Thanks for giving me...a martini?!?
Worried was I that Thanksgiving would be a solo event this year. Not so much because I didn't have anywhere to go, but more that I didn't feel that I'd be much fun wherever I went. Something's amiss in Miss Anne's world. More later on that...
So Heather texted me at 6 am this morning, in a sticky situation, that she'd be bailing on the family festivities. Could she be my partner in crime in wreaking holiday madness?
Quite last minute we found a spot with turkey, Brussel sprouts and pumpkin pie. Oh, and did I mention liquor?
Happy Thanksgiginv!!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tag, you're it?
New York is an animal, a creature built by those able, often required to live atop one another. A metropolis of the cramped, an island of sardines. Yet somehow each of us remains anonymous. At most, you see those you wish to see in your own neighborhood. But as you trek through the city, eyes and ears open, the strangers, buildings, parks of your every day life start to seep into your world. Some become your friends. Others your enemies.
Graffiti artists, commissioned painters, hacks, classically trained violinists, panhandlers, Mexican mariachis...some days you encounter each of them trying to make it. Working the subway. The streets. The C-Towns.
For a while now, "Chef Pants" has been inching into my realm. I'm sure my friend Tony objects to even the mention of the name.
Whether sprayed on a restaurant awning, a UPS truck, a mailbox, even your own apartment building (as pictured), Chef Pants has struck the city. All things considered, chef pants themselves aren't the most attractive or flattering attire one could don. They remind of MC Hammer and his ridiculous dances from back in the day. In all honesty, I can't figure out why one would choose that as a tag. And as it turns out, Chef Pants is a girl. A friend of a friend knows her. Maybe she's a chef. From the way she tags things, I surmise she's left-handed.
And then there's AnaPeru, PeruAna. She writes her name and country and then the reverse on top of each other with a Sharpie. I've seen her tag on restaurant furniture, sidewalks, flowerpots. A girl from Peru named Ana. And of course, a female Peruvian is called a Peruana. It's clever. Isn't it also technically vandalism?
I understand the desire to make one's mark on this Earth but am curious whether this method is effective or counter-productive. If you're found out, you're anonymity gone, does anything change? Do people respect that you've become a household name from writing your chosen name all over the city? Does it make you an artist? Or just a nuisance? I applaud expression. And all things considered, am writing right now because of it. Who am I to knock it?
And here's one of the latest posters to have gone up in the neighborhood. Is it art? Political commentary? Original? Abraham Lincoln and Barack Obama. Now, there's a project.
Graffiti artists, commissioned painters, hacks, classically trained violinists, panhandlers, Mexican mariachis...some days you encounter each of them trying to make it. Working the subway. The streets. The C-Towns.
For a while now, "Chef Pants" has been inching into my realm. I'm sure my friend Tony objects to even the mention of the name.
Whether sprayed on a restaurant awning, a UPS truck, a mailbox, even your own apartment building (as pictured), Chef Pants has struck the city. All things considered, chef pants themselves aren't the most attractive or flattering attire one could don. They remind of MC Hammer and his ridiculous dances from back in the day. In all honesty, I can't figure out why one would choose that as a tag. And as it turns out, Chef Pants is a girl. A friend of a friend knows her. Maybe she's a chef. From the way she tags things, I surmise she's left-handed.And then there's AnaPeru, PeruAna. She writes her name and country and then the reverse on top of each other with a Sharpie. I've seen her tag on restaurant furniture, sidewalks, flowerpots. A girl from Peru named Ana. And of course, a female Peruvian is called a Peruana. It's clever. Isn't it also technically vandalism?
I understand the desire to make one's mark on this Earth but am curious whether this method is effective or counter-productive. If you're found out, you're anonymity gone, does anything change? Do people respect that you've become a household name from writing your chosen name all over the city? Does it make you an artist? Or just a nuisance? I applaud expression. And all things considered, am writing right now because of it. Who am I to knock it?
And here's one of the latest posters to have gone up in the neighborhood. Is it art? Political commentary? Original? Abraham Lincoln and Barack Obama. Now, there's a project.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
GO-BAMA!
I spent last evening with friends and countrymen and women at a local bar called Drop Off Service (it used to be a laudromat). They have a huge screen that extends along one wall for your viewing pleasure, and last night showed the election results in all their glory. A packed house, I brought cookies for Pete and Amanda, favorite bartender folk. What goes better with beer than cookies?!? They were neutral, may I add, white, milk and dark chocolate chips, with nuts (in honor of Palin, of course). HA! Just kidding...all the way around.
The evening resembled a rock concert more than any election night I've seen. Given that this is New York and the East Village, nary a soul in the place was a McCain supporter, or would admit to it. During his concession speech, there were even a few unnecessary boos. At the sight of Obama, the crowd enthusiastic almost to the point of madness filmed the speech from their cameras and cell phones, spanning the crowd in between shots of whiskey. It seemed a little cockamamie, filming Obama on a t.v. screen. Filming the filming? At the close of his speech, the crowd broke into a rally of "Yes, we cans" and "yes, we dids" along with the hordes of supporters on screen.
What a moment in history, the people in the city are decidedly more optimistic. On the streets, people have been greeting each other with smiles, even an occasional exchange of words. In a city where you mind your business, this election seems to have brought a feeling of hope, of acceptance. Rekindled in many is the belief that this country is governed by the people, for the people.
While we have yet to see what will become of the Obamas and this presidency, that one person, one family can inspire so many and in such a short period of time indicates how serious the need for such inspiration had become.
The evening resembled a rock concert more than any election night I've seen. Given that this is New York and the East Village, nary a soul in the place was a McCain supporter, or would admit to it. During his concession speech, there were even a few unnecessary boos. At the sight of Obama, the crowd enthusiastic almost to the point of madness filmed the speech from their cameras and cell phones, spanning the crowd in between shots of whiskey. It seemed a little cockamamie, filming Obama on a t.v. screen. Filming the filming? At the close of his speech, the crowd broke into a rally of "Yes, we cans" and "yes, we dids" along with the hordes of supporters on screen.
What a moment in history, the people in the city are decidedly more optimistic. On the streets, people have been greeting each other with smiles, even an occasional exchange of words. In a city where you mind your business, this election seems to have brought a feeling of hope, of acceptance. Rekindled in many is the belief that this country is governed by the people, for the people.
While we have yet to see what will become of the Obamas and this presidency, that one person, one family can inspire so many and in such a short period of time indicates how serious the need for such inspiration had become.
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