Tuesday, July 28, 2009


Naturally, my computer's burner drive isn't compatible with the current CD/DVD media on the market. Naturally, I just found that out as I ran out of my pack of old, slow-burning DVDs. Naturally, I have work to do that involves burning and distributing copies of thousands of images.

Naturally, John brought his souped-up, brand-spankin' new MacBook Pro over from Brooklyn to save my butt, because, well, he is a frickin' great dude.

Little did I know, but should have suspected, that my Monday night was going to turn into a blog. So, Great Dude then says to me, "Hey, Atmosphere is playing in about an hour at Webster Hall... and it's sold out. I don't have tickets - wanna go?"

Go time.

The show was great, but what followed would prove to be yet another stellar, movie-script night.

We set off down my favorite avenue in Manhattan, where the creatures walk tall and the humans crawl. Along the Bowery, you find a variety of life that was, life that is, life that almost was and life that's trying to be all in front of your face on one block. Staggeringly honest, really.

Adventures on the Bowery often lead to an assortment of underground activities, including a tumble into the rabbit hole of a bar that is King's Cross. Who doesn't want an underground labyrinth of an Irish pub on a Monday night?

Post Ireland, the Middle East was our next stop. A falafel shop for a late 1 a.m. dinner on Houston? Delish and delightfully heavy on the hot sauce.

What's next? What's next? Ahhh yess. Dessert. Cha Cha's In Bocca Al Lupo Cafe in Little Italy on our route home.

Let me tell you, there are many ways to end a night wonderfully at 2:30, but a smooth Chianti, a crisp cannoli and a waiter that's kept his smile he had at 6 p.m., is hard to beat.

During our final leg of our walk, my smile was larger than my appetite had been. The key to understanding this city is in listening to it, in moving with it the way it was meant to be moved with. If you are able to do this, it will show you things so gorgeous, you never even had the first clue that beauty like that could exist and I promise you that you will never ever speak of it poorly, ever, ever, ever again. And if you do, you just don't fucking listen.

But that's not its problem, I believe it's yours.

I like to dance all night
And some of the day
That's how I play
That's how I play

I said well who are you

No matter who you are
So we dance all night
And dance all day

"Manhattan" - Kings of Leon

P.S. - point and shoot again .... boo/hiss.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Okay. You sound like yourself again. You you you you you and you all over this. Bless my friend. Bless.

Alli Harvey said...

A story is a story - from my perspective or yours, whoever you may be.