After living in New York for nearly six years, I find it very difficult to get out of town even if it’s only for the weekend. Maturing to the point of not caring about missing something has mentally beneficial aspects, but at this stage in the game, it kills me to leave. As my packed NJ Transit train pulled out of Penn Station on Friday, I received a couple phone calls that promptly cut out as we dove below the Hudson River. Upon surfacing I called the first back. It was a call for a shift down at the club. No big harm. No intentional foul. The next call was from a friend of mine who called to invite me to the Beck show. There you go folks. This if proof that if I leave for 10 minutes, I’m definitely going to miss something.Regardless of my personal misgivings, it was nice to be out of the city for a mere 24 hours. My older sister picked me up at the Point Pleasant Beach train station and took me to the hotel where the rest of the family was waiting. My mom and Aunt Suzanne both read this so I’m going to keep this light, but wow, if you put our crew together things get a little out of hand. It began with the crew of 16 heading across the street for dinner at an Italian Steakhouse called Spano’s. The jackasses at the restaurant obviously don’t understand the concept of reservations because they gave ours away which forced the 16 hungry, angry people to drink for an hour before being seated. During this hour we managed to set off the fire alarm and have the entire Point Pleasant Fire Department arrive at the scene. This was hilarious because the downstairs ballroom housed a junior prom of some sorts. As the firemen stormed to the second floor restaurant, I tucked myself into the corner of the bar with my mom and aunt who ruined my chances with the cute bartender.
We were finally seated when it dawned on us; their wait staff was completely fucking hopeless. Now I usually try to give these employees the benefit of the doubt, but I’ve never seen what must have been a mildly retarded busboy. I had four empty drink glasses in front of me by the end of the night along with my appetizer dishes and our entrée dishes. I’m praying for his sake that Friday was his first shift. The waitress was downright awful. She would bring something to the table and shout, “Who ordered this?” It was kind of humorous. We also waited an hour and a half to get our food. We ended up being the last people in the restaurant. The entire party was drunk and angry. To put the cherry on this shit sundae, I had my uncle’s crass-as-all-hell friend in my ear asking me for drugs in between insults directed at his girlfriend who sat on his other side.
When we finally got the bill, everyone looked in the bag so I took it upon myself to collect from everyone. People just started throwing money at me. By the time the dust settled we were $80 short and no one stepped up to cover it. Eventually crass friend snatched it from me and paid on his credit card. His girlfriend got extremely pissy because it wasn’t fair for him to spend their “cleaning ladies” money. Fuck me. I threw him a $20 in hopes of slowing the embarrassment. Eventually my uncle came back in and grew as furious as me. I stormed out, returned to the hotel room and promptly passed out.
The next morning we hung out in Annette and Jay’s hotel room drinking coffee while mapping out the various tasks necessary for Lisa and Jared’s wedding. Around 9am Bruce, Jay and I cruised down to the place on the boardwalk where the event took place. We gave some things to the wedding planner and stopped at a café to pick up some breakfast sandwiches. The sandwiches cost $6 for one egg, bacon and cheese on a roll. When my uncle laughed at the bill, the counter girl merely replied, “What do you expect? It’s the Jersey Shore.” Remind me never to return.
We returned to the hotel, and the wait was on. I crawled back into bed, but couldn’t manage to sneak in any sleep. Around 1pm I got dressed up and went back down to the ballroom with my uncle and Bruce to meet and greet. Eventually the place filled up and the party went down to the beach for my first Jewish wedding. I was in the cheap seats so it was difficult to hear, but from what I could tell, they definitely got married. Cousin Lisa looked so unbelievable and I repeated informed her of this fact. The reception ended up being a great time. My aunt and uncle were pleased with the entire spread. The open bar provided me with tons of whiskey that facilitated the latter necessity of red bull vodkas.
Around 7pm the need for New York kicked in. I wanted to wake up at 186 so Rachel drove me to the hotel so I could pack my bag. We returned to the reception where I said my goodbyes before mom dropped me at the train station. The train was pulling away as I walked up the platform. The wait was nearly an hour and by 11:30 I made it back to Manhattan. It was really nice to see the family, but next time I hope to do it in a more relaxed setting.
On my cab ride back down to 186, I stopped at 14th and A to pick up Sean and Sarah. We cruised down to my house where Deborah met up with us before we headed to Brooklyn for DTL and Stefan’s joint birthday venture. On our short walk to the apartment we ran into George who said, “Sorry I’m in a hurry. I’m going to check out a Japanese speedcore band.” That kid cracks me up. Anyway, the party was awfully rad. There was a table full of alcohol and it didn’t take me long to rekindle my afternoon buzz. There were tons of cool kids hanging out including: Jin, Juliet, Dana, Ben, Rachel, Laura, Cara, Josh, Christina and Maggie. At some point Builder called to let me know he was celebrating his birthday at the Hanger Bar so Christina, Maggie and I hopped a cab and headed to the city. Things definitely got a bit fuzzy, but there was a nice sized crew at the bar. Builder managed to rustle up Mike, Miriam, Alister, Elise, Sky, Rob and a few others. Natalka was kind enough to sling me some strong drinks. Apparently I got pretty rowdy and was swinging kids around, (if I wasn’t dry humping them). Summer is going to bring out the worst (read: best) in me. I managed to get home at a reasonable hour or at least it felt like one.
On Sunday I took Miriam and Josh to brunch at AKA Café for Josh’s 24th birthday. We cruised around the neighborhood in search of desert. The Australian ice cream shop on St. Marks provided us with some killer sorbet. Then Builder and I drove out to Mike’s in Brooklyn to pick up our new Ipods. Mike is a black market Ipod dealer. Well, maybe not, but he managed to score us some gear at a great price. Since we were on her block, we also popped into Erin’s back yard for a quick hang before returning to the city.
Last night I had to work The Bravery show at Bowery. Note to male haters: Hot girls love The Bravery. There were hordes of pretty girls at this show, but it you really have to want it if you’re going to sit through their set. Ash did manage to cover Thin Lizzy which sounded great from out front. Merida wasn’t happy with their choice of cover, but why not play the hits? We have a different take on the art of the good cover. Well, I don’t think many would agree with me, but if you are going to play a cover, be so fucking obvious that it’s almost funny. I mean, you are already ripping something off, why try to be obscure about it? Granted, the most important aspect is to pick a great song, but most of the time that ends up being a hit. Anyway, I popped upstairs to catch a couple songs from one of the most contrived things I’d ever seen. It felt dirty, but they are moving records and they are playing a sold out tour so more power to them. It’s just not my game. This may sound overly diplomatic, but to be honest, I just don’t care. Play it. Play it with passion, (even if it entails the usage of lame 80’s clichés that may push you to Smashmouth status in a year or two). Make your money, but please curb this whole shtick before I drown in the mass of puke in my mouth. I also killed some time chatting up Denise and Merida before taking off, (thanks for the advice M). By midnight I was at home starring at the ceiling wishing my exhaustion would translate into sleep.
*** Have you heard Cloud Room’s single, Hey Now Now? A while ago Noah and I saw them perform at Rothko and it was an absolute nightmare. Now I’m hearing the record and realizing they make great pop songs. They’ll have to dig themselves out of the live show hole, but for now I’m hooked. It’s like listening to Elefant if they weren’t lead by a narcissistic shit stick. You can hear the tunes here. I believe they are playing the FREE Calla show at Knitting Factory on April 25th. Please go and report back to me.*** The special guest who is slated to perform at NY2LON gig at The Bowery Ballroom is none other than the Ligers. You’ll love it. Just go. Tickets are available here.
*** Ted Nugent is a fucking moron. Do you think he voted Republican?
*** Early reports of the lineup at the Rock Hall Music Festival in Cleveland (June 8-11) include names like Malkmus, Spoon, Misfits and The Futureheads.
Have a killer day. Check your inbox for weekend B-day bash information.
14 Comments:
Got to agree about the Bravery - totally manufactured. The singer spent more time posturing than working out how to get all the lyrics out. They remind me so much of a rocked up Duran Duran that it's hard not to spend the whole show laughing. Compare Saturday & Sunday. Sonic Youth - cool. The Bravery - trying to be cool.
Ash's old stuff is so much better than the newer songs, both lyrically and melodically. They finished with Jack Names the Planets, which I hadn't heard in ages, and along with Kung Fu reminds us what they are capable of.
WT
Jay---we don't use the term "Mildly retarded" any more. We're in the new millenium and now we call them "trainables." Either that or "bulb-headed shit-wit."
holy moly, that rock hall music festival line-up looks great. all i've been listening to lately is "hybrid moments" and "astro zombies".
sounds about right WT, but you can't really compare the two because on one hand you have indie luminaries, on the other hand, you have a bunch of kids cashing in on something that is rooted in sonic youth's cool mystic. but yeah,it was bogus, and though it doesn't matter at this point, i hope people realize it was like throwing interpol in a blender with the hot hot heat and then using carlos d as garnish.
kung fu sounded great from out front. that song kicks so much ass. it reminds me of being a teenager.
trainables... ok, thats PC enough for me.
bidi, that song is so kick ass. the misfits rock and from the good reports that came out of their spirit show, they alone would be worth the trek across the keystone state. stop at clearfield to say whats up to my mama.
which of cloud room's rothko shows did you see, cuz I caught them there a couple weeks ago and it was the shit. and i got to stand next to one of the arcade fire dudes, the one who looks like napolean dynamite!
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