Perspective/Focus

Vantage from one of the days I was shooting The Accidental Wolf.

Channeling Coppola via Columbus Circle.

The night before, I got to drive around Hell's Kitchen with this rig strapped to the passenger door.

Should be a very good series - I'll let you know as things are released...

Rock and Roll Week

Not my normal speed, but we caught 4 nights of live music shows last week. Which adds up to awesome.

Night 1

Yo La Tengo 30th Anniversary show at Town Hall.  Antietam opened.  Here they are joined by many of the people they've worked and played with over the years.  Superfab.

Night 2

Second night of Yo La Tengo's anniversary residency.  Here are the Feelies in their opening set.  They all joined YLT as well at various times throughout the evening.  Megafab.

Oh, and these nights gave Cory a good chance to expand her collection of Yo La Tengo and Feelies setlists.  They're filling up the better part of the hearth at this point...

Night 3

Lucius, doing their New York homecoming at Terminal 5.  Not my favorite venue, but one of my current favorite acts.  They came out into the crowd for the encore, as is their wont.

Night 4

Beep opened the show at Music Hall of Williamsburg - they were great, but I didn't get any photos

Cibo Matto - Amazing.

Tune-Yards - Incredible.

So - now we're kind of in recovery mode.  Kind of.  I had a shoot on Sunday (tucked in between Lucius and Tune-Yards, if you're keeping score) and of course we've both been working regular hours this whole while.  Plans every night this week (but mainly mellower plans - that's what makes it recovery mode, I guess) and both days this weekend too.  

Like the man said, you'll sleep when you're dead.

Banksy in Chelsea

We're a few days into Banksy's New York residency.  I haven't been too engaged in the Painter Chase, but this piece is so close to Chome that I hunted it down.

Worth a look.  As all the press mentions, his pieces tend not to last too long before other taggers get to it.  If you review those press and online items, you'll notice that many of the images are different from each other in content as well as perspective: more or less in the way of images and verbiage, depending on when the taggers and photographers got to the spot.  You can see in the shot above that someone (who? a sympatico fellow tagger? one of the nearby gallerists?  Banksy himself?) has recently gone over "THIS IS MY NEW YORK ACCENT" to reinforce it, so that it is complete on the surface, above the other tags, at least for a little while on Friday morning.

And then there's the (slightly) greater context.  Again, this surface - like most un- or semi-sanctioned street art canvases - is continually evolving.  Some 'vandalizing' Banksy's attention-getting 'vandalism'; a Bronx record label making use of the attention; someone calling on (challenging?) Banksy to make use of his newly declared accent to use the megaphone of the attention to, you know, come out and say something; another stencil down left wondering out loud if the emperor's wardrobe is really all that impressive.  This could go on for a while.

What do you think?  Important urban art?  Commentary on the Gallery District/the Great New York Art Scene (now polished and sanitized for your protection and convenience!)?  A damn squit?

Look closer.  And keep looking - we should be getting more of these all month all over the city.

Gray Day in Chelsea

The precursor to the holiday weekend is a gray and rainy one.  

To add to the celebration-worthiness, it's also Bob Dylan's birthday.  The good people at Slate added to the festivities with this nifty map with a pin on (they claim) every location Dylan mentions in any of his songs.  There is definitely some fun to be had playing with that.

If you zoom way in on the NYC area of the map, you'll eventually land on this location, where he claims in this great song, that he wrote this other, even greater, song.

[There is some vintage video and some interesting lyric changes in that live version of Sara linked above.  In case you are interested in that kind of thing.]

Took that shot in front of one of our favorite coffee shops.  Then turned west and took this shot of an even bigger, if less historic, proclamation of Chelsea.

Have a good Memorial Day weekend, everybody.  And happy birthday Bob.

Are you there world? It's me, Friday.

Home in Hoboken after a long week, and a good long night of moviegoing at the Tribeca Film Festival, listening to some Caroline Shaw and sinking into not-unpleasant exhaustion.

Saw a program of documentary shorts - fantastic, love this fest if for no other reason (and there are other reasons) than that I get a chance to see things like this instead of just making a stray comment while watching some awards show that "we ought to go see things like that."

Then hustled over to another theater and watched Adult World, which was fun and funny as hell (and I'm not one to give an automatic nod to the latest member of the Roberts Dynasty).

Tomorrow is an appointment in the morning, followed by I hope another film or two, followed by a performance of East Side Stories.  Sunday is a breakfast/rehearsal date, then more movies, then another show.  And then a week of work, auditions, rehearsal, and performances.  Nobody ever said a weekend had to be restful.

The Ghost of Times Square Past

I am not a 'good old days' advocate (and I don't know that this would qualify for that at any rate) but I do sometimes miss this version of 42nd Street.

Courage, Cowardice and the Great Western Butter Slide

I'm guessing most of you have seen some video version of Anthony Weiner's (D-NY) speech in the House of Representatives on the Health and Compensation Act intended for First Responders to the World Trade Center attacks and people who lived in the vicinity. But in case you haven't, here it is:



Just for kicks, the YouTube page I embedded this time is not sponsored by Huffington Post or some such; it purports to be more of a 'neutral' post, (which includes the usual range of subtle and thoughtful discussion in the comment section for your amusement should you wish to dive down that hole.)

Shockingly, the Right has been accusing Mr. Weiner of using the platform to get some limelight, and possibly jump-start his run for Mayor of New York. And they have been holding this up as evidence that we need to return to reasonable discourse, to restore dignity to the hallowed halls of Congress. Naturally. Because that's what they're all about.

[We'll take a brief pause while you digest that.]

More to the point for today's installment is this Op Ed by Representative Weiner himself, which describes the reasons why he felt compelled to go into Red-Faced Rant mode.

...what upset me most last week were comments voiced by Republicans who claimed to be supporters of the bill, yet who used their time on the House floor not to persuade skeptical Republican colleagues to vote yes but to excoriate Democrats for using the suspension calendar.

Emphasis mine.

And for what it's worth, if a little ranting from the Honorable Congressman shines some light on both parties' tendency to politicize suffering and exploit fear (some Republicans actually claimed they were holding this bill up because they want to make sure that it didn't benefit any illegal immigrants. Because they are the cause of all our problems. This week. Them and the gays.) then I'm, you know, pretty ok with it.

Patti and Sue and Steve

Went to see Patti Smith's exhibit at the Robert Miller Gallery with Sue and Steve this weekend. Brooklyn Beth joined us, and we met up with Jon and Kirsten later on. It was a great big weekend, and I'll try to give it its due here at some point, but I don't have time now.

SO - in lieu of that, here's a shot for Steve and Sue from a few years ago, of Patti and her friend William Burroughs.

Visiting Hoosiers

My friend Tim was in the city from Indiana for a theater conference, and he brought two of his daughters along with him.


Here's Keri Lynn


And here's Lauren.

I got out of work early one afternoon to show these two around a bit. It was HOT that day, but we covered ground like troopers. Met them in Herald Square, took them through Macy's (hey, it's kind of a big deal for some people. And there are those fun wooden escalators.) Then we got on a subway and went down to Canal Street to shop for souveniers for their family and stroll through Chinatown. Gave them an unintended "real New York moment" by needing to fight with a vendor over a refund (turned out fine.) Then more walking, through Little Italy and the Bowery over to the Lower East Side, where we went to Economy Candy for some vintage fun and goodies for their littlest siblings, and then a quick stop at the Tenament Museum and super yumminess Laboratorio Del Gelato. Then even yet still more walking, back to Little Italy to meet with Tim and one of his friends for some really good pizza.

And that was just one of their afternoons. They'd also hit the 'boken, and done the TKTS booth, and seen In The Heights, and walked around Hell's Kitchen with Cory and me, and gone out for other great meals. We like to take care of our visitors, especially when they're as great as these guys.

Exciting News

My sister is visiting New York next weekend! This is the most exciting news I've had since I booked my trip to Rome.

She's going to be in Philadelphia for a business meeting, so I invited her to come up and stay with me for a couple days. And that's what's happening! Woo Hoo!

The thing you have to realize is: I haven't had time with Lori one on one (no kids, no husband, no parents) for... a really really long time. Like, longer than I want to admit. Like, since the first Bush administration.

So if you want to claim time with us next weekend, you better get on it!

New York, New Music, New Hall

The other night we went to the "New York, New Music, New Hall" program at Alice Tully Hall. The revamped hall has been getting a lot of press lately, having recently re-opened after a major mondo monster renovation that took almost two years. Most of this press has been very positive, though I did read a naysayer regarding the acoustics for large orchestras (I have read only good things about the acoustics for smaller ensembles, and pretty much unanimously favorable reaction to the visual design elements).

Now, I'm no acoustician, but I flatter myself that I have a pretty good ear. My perspective on the 'room sound' thing is that it's largely a matter of opinion, though there are certain things that most everyone agrees on (too echoey is bad; if you can't hear the soft parts it's bad; if the street noise is too audible it's bad). After that it gets a little yitzy - most everyone agrees that some resonance is good, but there can be a lot of debate about how much is the 'right' amount. And, if I may be so bold, I think that when these discussions begin, I think we start to see posturing pretty quickly. My personal priorities in terms of acoustics tend toward the realms of audibility and clarity - I do like some warmth, but I want to be able to hear the distinct instruments and voices without too thick a bassy boom or a whole bunch of mush.

But the bottom line is: the acoustics are there in service of the music. That's what we're going to the hall to hear.

Cory scored us our tickets pretty last minute, so we didn't make it to the free opening performance by the string quartet Ethel in the rather vast lobby, but it looks like it was pretty cool. We had seats in different parts of the auditorium, but thanks to the kindness of a solo traveler, we did end up sitting together. John Schaeffer was the host, providing a bit of chat at the beginning of each act. The first ensemble he presented was Alarm Will Sound.

They were the youngest group of the evening, and while I know we like to avoid cliches I will admit that catchwords like 'hip' and 'energetic' do spring to mind. More importantly, they're really fucking good. Ah, New York: a place where you can put out the word that you want to start a contemporary music ensemble and you end up with a stage full of world class players. Or you can if you're Alan Pierson, anyway. Their first piece was Derek Bermel’s “Three Rivers” which pretty much leapt off the stage and grabbed my attention. If you look for images of Alarm Will Sound on the internets, you'll run across a photo of them playing in front of a projection screen featuring a Frank Zappa aphorism. That seems appropriate, as this piece of Bermel's reminded me of nothing so much as some of Zappa's compositions - ones done by his groups, yes, but more so pieces that groups like Ensemble Modern have performed.

Their second piece, Oscar Bianchi’s “Mezzogiorno,” didn't blow me away as much, but that probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was working hard through much of the piece to stifle a tickle in my throat that was fighting to turn into a cough. That cold still hasn't gone away. It is making me lose my patience. However, I was better off by the time their third piece, Caleb Burhans’s “oh ye of little faith ... (do you know where your children are?),” began - which is a good thing, because it was lush and beautiful.

The Bang on a Can All Stars were up next. Love them - pretty sure I've written about them here before. Oh, that's a sad, small picture of them, but I didn't want to use the old out-of-date promo shot you see everywhere. They opened with Julia Wolfe's "Lick," which was amazing; moved on to David Lang's “Sunray,” which was zippy; gave us the world premier of Michael Gordon's “For Madeleine,” which he wrote for his mother and which was appropriately moving; and wrapped up with Glenn Kotche's “Mobile.” Glenn is the drummer for Wilco, and he joined the Can Bangers to perform his piece on a second drum set (amidst jokes about Little Feat, the Allman Brothers and other 2-drummer combos) - it's not terribly surprising that his piece was the rockinest of the night, and I'm happy to say that it was also a complex and wholly effective composition. Probably wouldn't give much hope to the "Give me A.M. or give me death" crowd of Wilco fans, who are in for more of the "sonic exploration" incarnation of the band if Kotche's work is any indication. After the set, Glenn came out and sat right behind us, which gave Cory some palpitations. Blah, blah, blah. Girls and drummers. Did I mention that the Bang on a Can pianist, Ning Yu, is really cute?

For the last section of the night, John Schaeffer rhapsodized, at some length, about the legendary status of Steve Reich's “Music for 18 Musicians.” It's true - not many contemporary 'art' compositions have such lofty status or are so well known. I've heard "...18 Musicians" bunches of times, but never live.

Gotta tell you, folks, if you ever wanted proof that live music just exists on a whole other, better, plane than the recorded kind, you could have done worse than showing up at Alice Tully Hall on Tuesday night. This piece worked so well on so many levels, and gave us things to appreciate that just don't exist in recorded form. Simple things, like being able to see with your own eyes the attention and endurance of the marimba players, and being able to see things that you have to guess at when you're listening to recorded versions (where do the voices end and the instruments begin?) But also some of the more esoteric, harder-to-define things that work 'room sound' fanatics into a lather: the clarity, the subtlety of the dynamics, that (fuck it, I'll just say it) magic that happens when you've got those air molecules wiggling straight from the musicians to your ears.

And that brings me back around to the Hall renovations. The warm appearance of the room (and the improved comfort of the seating) helps in ways that seem at first to be extra-musical, but actually add quite a bit to the experience. And that experience began pretty much as soon as I stepped out of the subway stairs and saw the facade of the building, the interior visible through huge glass wall/windows. I overheard a couple different groups of passersby murmur impressed comments, along the lines of "Wow. That looks really... great." And it looks great from the inside too, and - most importantly of all - it sounds great.

'Twas a good night out.

Don't Fuck with Opera Fans

Last night, Cory and I went to see the HD screening of the Metropolitan Opera's Orfeo ed Euridice at a theater in Chelsea. It was a great idea - catch this Mark Morris-directed and choreographed interpretation of Gluck's piece, and be done in time to go home, have dinner and watch the Duke/Clemson game. Don't know if you're familiar with this Met Opera HD series, but it's actually pretty fantastic (and it's not New York-specific: there are screenings across the country). For a selection of Operas, there are live screenings, and then they'll repeat the screenings once or twice to give people another chance to see them. Excellent camera work, pretty good sound (weird echo sometimes), interesting features beforehand and during intermissions - it's a really good way to get to know the pieces, and you feel more a part of the production than you do in even the best seats at the Met. I mean, ok: no - you're not there live and in person. That can't be replicated. But I guarantee there is not a seat in the house with a better view of the performers' faces, or costume and set details. And the tickets cost less than all but the very worst seats in the Met. It's a very safe bet if you're in the mood for an opera.


But [you knew there was going to be a "but"] not last night.

Last night there were some "technical difficulties" which prevented the screening from happening. Man, you have never seen so many senior citizens (this was one of those occasions when I was one of the youngest people in the room) get so pissed off in your life. The theater sent up four people (count 'em - four) to make the announcement and organize the fallout. Before the first sentence was out of the manager's mouth, people were groaning and whining and shouting things. The scene at the Simpsons Premier Fail was nothing compared to this. People started complaining and would not rest.

And the people at the theater did a pretty good job of helping the situation (or trying to). They offered a full refund, a screening there and then of a different opera they had in stock, and/or a voucher for a different movie if you didn't want to stay for the second-choice opera. You'd think that would mollify people who, essentially, had no alternative at their disposal anyway.

Ummm... no.

They wanted to see this opera. Now. They wanted other choices. They wanted their choice of alternate operas to win (even when there had been a vote and it clearly hadn't won). They wanted a more accountable vote. And I suspect that if there had been another vote, there would have been a hanging chad issue to whine about too.

In their defense (I guess), this was the final encore screening of a tight, compact opera that has received all-but-unanimous raves, and which is finished for the season. Which means: this may have been the very last time in the history of ever that we had a chance to see this company perform this production. (Though I'm holding out the hope that it will be shown on PBS or released on DVD or something.) The winner of the alternate opera vote, Richard Strauss' Salome, while one that I like a lot, is not for all tastes. [Oh, and that led to more fun with disgruntled patrons: as the poor cinema employees were reading off the options and pronounced it 'Suh-LOAM' there were appalled shrieks of correction 'SA-lo-may!!!!!!' You can't really imagine it.]

It was pretty hilarious. Though not, of course, for the poor people working there, who had to wrangle the Strauss fans back into their seats and corral everybody else (Cory and I chose to take a voucher and head home - we'll go back and catch Milk or something) out into the lobby for the interminable process of crediting people's accounts (God help you if you bought your ticket with cash).

So we were sad to miss Orfeo, but hopefully we can catch it next year. And the entertainment value of the Debacle of Supreme Whininess? It was messy and not artful at all, but it was a pretty good consolation prize. The Greatest Generation making themselves heard in the most ridiculous way. Pure New York.

Props to the good people working at the Clearview Chelsea. I feel for you.

Now that Duke/Clemson disaster is another story...

Happy New Year Again

The theme of this entry is "Great Ways to Spend New Year's Eve."

For the last bunch of years, I have spent New Year's in one part of New England or another. It's a great tradition, and I love it, as I love the people I visit in Boston, Williamstown, and wherever else I end up visiting. However, this year I stayed in New York to say goodbye to '008 and hello to the New Year. And while I missed those friends that I don't get to see often enough, I had a FANTASTIC time here. Enough so that I'll share with you the headlines as a recipe, in case you're looking for a New Year that is true New York, but that could be approximated just about anywhere.

• We went to see a matinee of Speed the Plow on Broadway (including Norbert Leo Butz in his last-minute fill-in for the thermometric Jeremy Piven) You can't do this everywhere, but I bet there's some kind of live entertainment available wherever you live.
• Went to Gazala Place for a quick snack afterwards - yum!
• Cory had to go back to work, including a stint in Times Square shepherding dance fans through the throng to City Center. This is definitely a New York Only kind of thing, but consider: while there is certainly something very fun and maybe even glamorous about it, it was effin cold out, and it's more work dealing with the cops and the crowds than you want to be doing on NYE.
• While she was doing that, I went shopping for food, booze and movies, then proceeded to prepare dinner.
• When Cory came in from the cold, I greeted her with a cup of Kentucky Chocolate with peppermint marshmallows. Mmmmmmm...
• Then we had dinner - a simplified version of Steak Diane, roast potatoes and sweet potatoes, fresh green salad, pomegranate sorbet with chocolate chips. Rather tasty, if I may say so myself.
• Along with dinner, we had a drink that I thought I didn't like very much, but it turns out I like it very much. Prosecco, in this instance with pureed blackberries. MMMMmmmmmm...
• After dinner we watched Harold and Maude, which if you haven't seen, you should. There's a reason I give it a shoutout in the "description" part of this blog.
• Then we watched the Ball Drop Show on New Year's Rockin' Eve and on CNN, including the getting-on-but-still-kicking Dick Clark, and Anderson Cooper with the spirited (dare I say randy?) Kathy Griffin.
• Midnight Toast with more Prosecco. Eventually we polished the bottle and finished the night not too late, not too drunk - but fizzy and mellow and very happy indeed.

So it was short on insanity, but long on festivity. Couldn't have been happier!

Hope your New Year's Eve was happy as could be too, and that 2009 turns out to be your best year so far!

HellGate Love Letter

This was the performance piece we saw a couple weeks back on the East River. Put together by the Alice Farley Dance Theater and produced in conjunction with the environmental activist group Solar One, it was a fantastic tribute to an earlier era in New York, and a great example of the kind of thing that continues to make the city singular. Loaded with poetry both verbal and visual, it started with a dance by these gals:


They were Spiney Star Fish, and they were accompanied by a couple guys who wandered around the crowd playing music through these crafty speakers hanging around their necks.



While this was going on, programs were distributed which included poetry by Lorca and Whitman, odes to New York - both the man-made and the natural sides. Characters named Gallus Mag and Sadie the Goat came out and delivered the bulk of the evening's text: a mytho-poetic incantation, reminders that these canyons of concrete and steel are surrounded by rivers, and right on the edge of the power of the ocean.

Here's Gallus mag in all his glory:


As you can see, the costume design, makeup and other visual elements (not least of all the park, the river, and the view of Brooklyn and Queens on the other side) were a big part of this show.

The crowd was herded up and down the path as different etudes emerged involving dance, text, and ever more expressive costumes. I was impressed by this River Cactus.


Dancers sprang from every rock, tree and rail.



There were many characters I didn't get good shots of, including this Sea Horse, but his unicycle costume is so rad I can't resist putting this picture, however blurry.



It even involved some tricked out kayaks.
And in keeping with the idea that nature is cyclical, it ended at the place where it began...
See those kayaks in the background?
Very cool event. By the way, the name "HellGate" comes from the Dutch word "Hellegat," which means both "Hell Gate" and "bright passage" and was the name Dutch settlers gave to the East River Strait.

Ok, I don't know why I'm not able to format this particular entry any better than I have. My html skillz evidently leave a lot to be desired. Hope you can make heads and tails of it. My main point is: All hail public art in New York outside in the summer!

It's the Little Things

Sometimes the details just line up and mean more than the sum of their parts. Today I had a friendlier-than-usual exchange with a fellow bus passenger, and I was having one of those Good Commute Tunes days (mostly indie rock, with more Sinatra than chance would seem to demand). But it was a cloudy damp day, and my head was aching dully, so it wasn't exactly an ideal morning.

Then I had one of those moments that's hard to describe. After a note-perfect Guided by Voices song, and a Sinatra tune I actually bumped forward about halfway through, I got the beautiful, plaintive 'Raincloud' by Leah Siegel. Had me in a nice place, and then just as she sang '...the way you feel the sun crashing down on the horizon' the sun broke through the clouds and cast a light that was, let's not be overly dramatic and call it 'miraculous,' but it was stunning. And it drew my attention to one of those buildings that I've surely passed dozens (hundreds?) of times but never really noticed - one of countless structures in New York which have a singular beauty but which all too often blend into undeserved obscurity because of the simple volume of Big Buildings on this island.

But not today. Today, as Leah's guitars made the case for love, I took in the levels of this building, noticed how the details catch the light, saw where arched windows had been bricked over, caught a sign that has probably been hanging in a window for 30 years or more.

Don't have a photo to share with you guys about it, but I wanted to recognize the moment.

And in other news, it's Free Iced Coffee Day at Dunkin Donuts.

thoughts from a walk in the east village on a sunday afternoon

I will not be a "good old days" person, if for no other reason than that the good old days always had something bad about them.

The spot where CBGB was is now some kind of gallery called 'Morrison Hotel'



[a moment, for you to let the irony of that simmer]

The building that once housed the Bouwerie Lane Theatre now offers Retail Space for Rent. And I think I saw in an article that a talented new developer has his eye on the residential space in the upper floors.

I will not sit inside a hot and badly ventilated coffee shop in the East Village on a gorgeous spring day, no matter how hip it is, or how beautiful its patrons.

I will, however, get one of their very delicious iced coffees and walk around the neighborhood for a while.

Much as it bugs me to admit it, the new facade of 40 Bond Street is pretty fucking rad.



I may sit in a cool and comfortable theater lobby while waiting for my partner for the matinee, no matter how un-hip.

Especially when there are nifty little tables & chairs.

No matter how geriatric I may seem in other circumstances, I am still likely to be one of the youngest people at certain live performances.

Especially matinees.

No matter how long I've known her, and how likely I know it to be, it still annoys me when she shows up late.

**addition**

I don't want to be one of those "I could have done that better" actors, but I auditioned for this show, nailed it, and goddam it, I could have done it better.

Super Duper Pooper Scooper Tuesday

Happy Mardi Gras, everybody! And big ol' primary election day, Giants victory parade day and everything else!!

In honor of the event, let's bring back the Magic 8Pod.

SO, 8Pod, what do you have to say about Mardi Gras '008?

• Bongwater - The Living End

Well, hmm... The band connotes party time, sure enough. And there's an odd twist on the times and the area in it's faux end-time sensibility. "We're living in the last days..." Interesting choice.

Ok, next, what can you provide in the way of predictions for this 'Super Duper Tuesday' Presidential Primary?

- for the Republican Party

• Greg Brown - Moondance

How 'bout that? At first it doesn't seem to fit: a great Van Morrison song being sung by Mr. Superlow Mellow Voice Strong Sensitive Folky Guy? For the Republicans?? But I guess it does bring to mind all those College Republican drunken singalongs to 'Brown-Eyed Girl'. And then a deeper listen takes us to a lonesome longing in the guitar-and-bongo arrangement, and maybe even some desperation in "Can I just have one more moondance with you...?" Last moondream? Plus... there's that whole thing of taking cover 'neath October skies...

Let's not forget that there's a half decent chance that we'll know who the Republican nominee is going to be at this time tomorrow.

- for the Democratic Party (which, by the way, is not "The Democrat Party" in spite of what many conservative pundits and officials - including the President - have been calling it, oh, for a few years now. Is no one else bothered by this? Is it another one of those thing that the Dems don't complain/stand up about for fear of seeming whiney?)

• Fleetwood Mac - Butter Cookie (Keep Me There)

This one yields all kinds of fun interpretation for a good 8Pod diviner! First of all, it's an outtake from Rumours, the album which yielded "Don't Stop," which was Bill Clinton's theme song - and it's even sung by the female vocal half of that song, Christine McVie. That's right folks, an outtake, a demo version, just piano and drums and voice. And then, there are the lyrics: in spite of the subtitle (Keep Me There) the sparce lyrics say "Don't leave me in the dark, I need you here with me... Don't leave me in this mess."

Don't know if this helps us draw a conclusion, though: does it mean Hillary will pick up the mantle? Or will she be left alone in the dark? Perhaps this is a good place to point out that the Dems divvy up their delegates by percentage in a lot of today's states - meaning that it is pretty UNlikely that we'll know who the Democratic candidate is going to be in time for Ash Wednesday Mass.

Lastly - what do you have to say about the Giant Superbowl victory and ticker tape extravaganza?

• Los Lobos - Somewhere in Time

Huh. This actually moves me a little.

I'm not a Giants fan. Not really a football fan in general, but definitely not a Giants fan or a fan of New York sports in general (Mets excepted). In fact, I refer you to a hilarious video on YouTube showing a clip from Downfall with Bruno Ganz as Hitler, but with made-up captions making it look as though they're talking about football rather than military action. I'm not putting up the link or the viddy, because it is utterly inappropriate and offensive in the way that only parodies of Hitler can be, but you can easily find it by searching "Hitler Cowboys Football" on YouTube. And it's pee-your-pants funny.

However, this song sheds light on the parade for me much more than on the victory. Reminds me how good it feels to know that throngs of people can use the Wall Street area way downtown as a place of celebration again. Certainly couldn't have been a parade there if the Yanks had won in 2001. And it does seem like last year had a big move forward in terms of being able to speak reasonably about that chunk of land, so this championship might even have been one of the first chances New York had to celebrate a victory down there.

So ok, maybe it's maudlin, sentimental and bittersweet to hear it that way. But here are the lyrics to the song, by David Hidalgo, Louie Perez and Dave Alvin.

I hear a voice singing somewhere in time
A song I knew so long ago
It takes me back to places somewhere in time
To everyone I used to know

I see a face I remember somewhere in time
Someone I love who's gone away
Gone away somewhere in time
one away somewhere in time

Another night, on a highway somewhere in time
Darkness plays those tricks on me
Far down the road in the shadows somewhere in time
Am I the man I'm supposed to be?

I see a light, shining somewhere in time
A lonely light to lead me on
To lead me on somewhere in time
To lead me on somewhere in time

Wake from a dream, a dream from somewhere in time
I rub my eyes so I can see
You're standing there before me somewhere in time
Standing there waiting for me

And I'll take your hand someday somewhere in time
Forever I'll be here with youI'll be with you somewhere in time
I'll be with you somewhere in time
I'm here with you somewhere in time

Friday

Friday I saw a play on the East Side. It was very good; in many ways one of the best new plays I've seen in a while. Interesting ideas, well acted for the most part, well staged and lit, costumes were good, if a bit obvious. But I don't want to write much about it, because there were a couple bad holes that really weakened the whole thing in the last quarter, and I don't like talking shit about my peeps in the theater in a public forum if I can help it.

Afterwards, Beth and I walked down Fifth Avenue through Tourist Christmasland. We didn't do the windowgaze routine full out, but we did check out Bergdorf and Cartier and the star at the intersection of 57th. Gaudily spectacular, natch. And, of course, since we were there, we looked at the tree at Rockefeller (so purple this year!) and passed by the skating rink.

Finally we ended up at what may be my new regular bar on the West Side. I'm definitely not going to write about that, because I don't want it getting around. So many of the great down-to-earth bars are gone now (McHale's, Dave's, Collins) or changed irremediably (McCoy's, Film Center) - when you discover one, or a new one pops up, you have to preserve it.

So then, this entry would be me almost writing about what I did the other night. Oy.

So after that last post - here's a little comic relief from Overheard in New York:

Everything but War and Straight Marriage Is Now Forbidden

Babysitter: Ok guys, hold my hand.
Six-year-old boy: Holding hands is unnatural.
Babysitter: What? Where did you hear that?
Six-year-old boy: George Bush!
Man walking ahead: Wow, he really does get blamed for everything now.


And then one for Sherin, to whom i tried to give legit directions to a place in Brooklyn:


Ennui and Apathy, Living in Perfect Harmony...

Tourist mom: Excuse me, miss, do you know how to get back to Manhattan?
Hipster girl: I'm sorry, I don't really have the energy to give you fake directions right now.

--Brooklyn-bound F train

Headline by: null

Runners-Up:
· "...Between the emphysema from the clove cigarettes and the anemia from cutting myself." - invisible girl
· "And if I give real ones, I lose my hipster certification" - AmyS
· "But for $5, I'll Pretend to Mock Your Fat Children" - Debra, the Barmaid Blog
· "I'm saving it all for defending my bitchy ass in Brooklyn" - knumb
· "When in doubt, Swim" - 6th Floor Blogger