brave turtle

southlands

2009-04-12T08:27:00.000-07:00

Writing from a breezy porch in Charleston, SC.

The tour so far has been successful. We played for small, but attentive audiences in Wilmington, NC, Charleston, SC and last night in Savannah, GA, which is basically the garden of eden. Seriously, the city is some kind of strange lush paradise full of funky art students and intensely bright flowers and moss hanging from trees. The gig was a good one. Great sound, nice, quiet audience. There were probably 15 people there but it was totally fine by me. I'd rather play for five quiet people than a bar full of loud drunks.

Speaking of... Our first gig in Wilmington, NC looked the most promising, but proved the least. There were two articles about me in town, one in the weekly arts paper and the other daily newspaper's music section, but amazingly no one came to see us because of it. When we started playing, there were 5 people there. Eventually the bar filled up but mostly with inattentive drinkers. The town was a serious college town, and I bet those kids just read the paper at the dining hall and then go out to pub crawls or something. These three really stoned dudes came in and stood in front of Rich howling and wooing at his guitar skills. I mean, Rich is awesome, no doubt. But the reaction was hilariously inappropriate for the music. He'd solo and they'd go "woooooo!!" and "hell yeah!!" and I was like, guys, we're playing folk music! One of them busted out his flute (not sure you can actually "bust out" a flute) and started soloing. Eventually I just chalked the whole night up to southern friendliness and tried to enjoy the scene. Afterward we went out for a late night snack at this mexican place that was recommended by a friend in NY. They don't serve burritos. Instead, they have a menu of faddis. This is pronounced "fatty." Makes you feel awkward when ordering. They were awful, but that's mexican in NC for you! On our way out of the faddi joint, we noticed the town had turned to a late-night club hang. There were girls in almost nothing almost everywhere. It was warm, but not that warm. I updated my facebook status to say "So many sluts!"

We played in Charleston on Thursday at the hostel we're currently staying at. We set up on the porch and a bunch of foreign guests and the hostel staff's friends gathered round. There was a big campfire burning and a lot of PBR drinking. A big group of kids from UNC were there -- they were actually from all over the world and doing a study abroad semester. Later on in the night, I saw the girl from Japan making out with the guy from Chile. We got photographed at that gig probably more than at any other ever. We're gonna go down in these kids' history as some kind of vague memory of strange American occurrence -- "On the big U.S. trip, we stayed at this hostel and this girl was playing. We all drank beers." After the show, I sold some CDs and met a nice gal named Rachel -- I got along with her instantly. Turned out she's a southern jew -- gotta love 'em -- and is moving to NYC.

So we were in Charleston for that gig, then slept, then got up and saw Savannah, played there, then drove back to our hostel in Charleston very late last night and are getting a late start again. All I've really seen so far of Charleston is this porch and the backyard. But today we are getting some grits and going out see Charleston. It's Easter Sunday, which tells me everything will be closed but hey, there's gotta be a Chinese restaurant for Rachel and the other southern Jews.

Free condoms!

2009-03-25T20:41:00.000-07:00

Today I volunteered for NARAL, handing out free condoms and information about emergency contraception to passersby in Union Square. Marge and I set up near the 16th St subway exit. She caught most of the farmers market and park pedestrians and I harassed the people exiting the subway.

Other than 3 crazy people, everyone was pretty much thrilled to get free condoms. I became a state fair/auctioneer type alternating between one of the following invitations:

"Free condoms and information about Plan B!"
"Free condoms! That's right, ladies and gentlemen, they're free!"
"Free condoms today! Don't be shy; you know you want 'em!"
"Free condoms! And, if they don't work, there's still help!"

A couple observations from today:

1.) White people are way way weird about sex. I'd say one in 25 white people I offered a condom to actually took it. And at least half of them pretended they didn't even see or hear me. Many looked uncomfortable, even embarrassed to be offered contraception.

2.) Black people are far more open about sexuality and contraception. I'd say 1 in 5 black people I offered a condom to took it, and on top of that, most of the people that actually came up to me and asked for condoms (instead of having them directly placed in their hurried way) were black or hispanic.

3.) There is no way black people are having more sex than white people. And even though socioeconomics would dictate that whites have more money in general, and thus we could infer, more funds to purchase contraception with, there is just no way that this accounts for the huge difference in attitude. My conclusion is that culturally there is a lot of shame and repression about sex in the white community.

Onto the crazy people...
There were three. One told Marge condoms are "for cheaters and promiscuous people." Another was a homeless man who told us people with HIV should be put in jail. Oy! The third was a scrawny older man who came up to me and told me if I didn't stop what I was doing I would going to hell. I told him "thanks for the advice" and then he kept it up so I told him to "GO AWAY." So he did, but he just glommed onto Marge instead and told her she was a sinner. I went over to keep her company and ward off the psycho and suddenly we saw he had our condoms in his hand, was taking out his keys and was jabbing the keys through the condom packs violently while yelling at us.

I flipped him off.

Some of my favorite responses from the "free condoms" haranguing are:

"Oooh sex, yesss."
"I'll have to get a date first" (Heard this one several times)
"You don't got no magnums in there?"
"I'm celibate right now."
"I hope this is an omen."
"Now I know what I'm doing later!"

Overall a fun and worthwhile experience. In two hours volunteers in Union Square handed out 6,000 condoms and 3,000 info cards about Plan B. And there were volunteers in several other major subway areas as well.

I have a problem

2009-03-25T20:40:00.000-07:00

I once again signed my own name when emailing from my fake booking agent's account. Where, oh where, is the new Gmail unsend feature!?!?

17lbs 48oz

2009-03-17T19:46:00.000-07:00

Fat Deli Cat weighs 17 pounds, 48 ounces, according to the produce scale.

Ew

2009-03-13T09:22:00.000-07:00

I am SO not into St. Patty's day themed baked good. Totally not cool.

Snow Day

2009-03-02T12:17:00.000-08:00

[Passengers wait at bus stop during the biggest snow storm of the year.]
Stranger: This sucks! Just last week I heard a robin outside my window.
Me: That robin is probably dead.
Stranger: Serves him right for leading me on.

a job interview to remember.

2009-02-18T09:37:00.001-08:00

I answered an ad on craigslist entitled "Personal Assistant needed with music industry experience. (Park Slope)"

I received an email back with some times to come in and interview. The email let me know that these times were meant to be an "open invitation," as in show up anytime in the timeframe, get interviewed.

I arrived at 11am today for my open invitation. Immediately I recognized the girl sitting next to me waiting as someone I went to high school with and also shared the stage with once in the musical Godspell. She was an odd girl then, but I figured since we were both interviewing for the same job, that was weird enough and I might as well be friendly.

"Hey, [Name Left Out To Ensure Safety]!" I said.
She did not recognize me.
"[N.L.O.T.E.S.], I'm [me]. We went to high school together."
Still no response. She looked at me like I was an alien.
"We were in Godspell together!"
Finally, as if she had woken up from a dream she blurted out loudly: "[My name]! You've changed! You've changed so much!" The tone of her voice reminded me of the Log Lady.

Let me pause to say that this statement is ridiculous because I look EXACTLY the same as I did in high school. I gained some weight and have new glasses, but no one has ever not recognized me, even people I haven't seen in 15 years.

Suddenly Log Lady and I were called in to the "interview." I give it quotes because it was unlike any other interview I've ever had.

We were in a big yoga studio. The job was to be the personal assistant to a man who owned the studio, several others, and some liquor companies, his current personal assistant explained to me. "This man is an investor, you see." The investor was currently making a film, which he (the PA) had been hired for because of his film experience. The man liked to do projects and was now producing a record and needed someone with music experience to help. The record was for a young girl, a relation of none other than the wonderful homemaker pictured above. The PA pointed to a room next door. "She's in there and you will hear her play in a bit." Oh joy I thought. A musical performance at 11am.

Let me pause again to explain that this situation was extremely bizarre, far more than I am able to explain in writing. The walls were covered in tie dye. The yoga/investor man was leaping around from interviewee to interviewee and me and Log Lady were both a little confused. Investor man shuffled us to be seated and wait for our turn to hear the starlet play.

Finally were were seated in a large loft space. We were greeted by the queen songtress herself sitting on stool with her guitar ready. Around 10 more people had shown up to be interviewed in the 5 minutes we had been there. Yoga man put out two chairs and had Log Lady and I sit facing songtress, then shut the door.

"This is so weird," I whispered to Log Lady.
"Uh huh," she said, but it was clear that she really didn't think it was all that weird and that, in itself, was the weirdest thing.

Over the next 8 minutes we were subjected to a horrible torture. The song was strange, long, formless, and overly put-on. She was an amateur, being primped for stardom by Ms. Homemaker and a yogi. I felt sorry for her. I stared straight ahead, trying not to bust out laughing, or better yet, bust out of the room. It wasn't that the song was so terrible, but that the situation was unbearably ridiculous and self-indulgent. I couldn't really figure out what this performance had to do in any way with working for the yoga man.

When she finally finished playing she said "Yeah, so that was one of the softer songs we're working on. It's based in the blues, but also has some elements of pop, jazz and rock." If anyone knows anything about music, you know this statement makes no sense, and you would know this most of all if you had heard the song. The whole situation was really wearing on me and I just wanted to leave.

Suddenly Log Lady blurted out "Do you want criticism?"
"Sure," said Queen Songtress.
"OH LORD HELP US," I thought to myself.
Log Lady continued "Your posture is very poor; you need to sit up. Your voice is nice but you use too much chest voice and need to go into your head voice more. I had a lot of trouble making the words out you were saying. Is that blunt?"
GEEEEZUS. I may have hated it, but I'm not about to say it out loud to her face!!
Queen Songtress looked a little shocked but said "Yeah, that's good to hear. I need some advice."
"Well it was good to meet you!" I interrupted.

We walked out of the studio as the next shift of interviewees was being shuffled in to hear her songs.
I asked the woman at the front desk "What do we do now?" She didn't look up from her computer, but she looked at me blankly, in a way that was similar to the look I got from the Log Lady when I first said hello to her.
"Oh, I don't knowww," she said.
"Can we leave?" I asked.
She looked up from her computer. "Ohhh, I don't know." I took it upon myself to run out the door.
Log Lady said "I think I'll stay and chat a bit more."
"Good luck," I said and bolted out the door back into the REAL world.

sorry, thieves

2009-01-30T21:54:00.000-08:00

me: um someone just stole my recycling
from outside my house
Lucy: weird!
me: every time we put it out
it gets taken
someone is trying to steal my identity
but all they're getting is fliers for singing lessons, boxes for frozen lasagna and bottles of kombucha

My only thought...

2009-01-27T09:40:00.000-08:00

is that this woman is actually a cat.

Everything's closing

2009-01-15T12:48:00.000-08:00

7th Ave in Park Slope has never been cool. It's always been kid friendly, with bland restaurants, and the occasional funky toy store. I miss the days, though, when there was a Chinese restaurant on every block and there was only one bank on the whole strip, instead of three Bank of Americas in 10 blocks.

In the last few weeks -- likely due to the economic downturn -- it seems like everything is closing. I read the Gowanus Lounge and Brownstoner daily, cause I aim to be an informed Brooklynite and I cannot believe how much news there is about 7th Ave establishments closing.

Super Savers, the discount pharmacy, which has been here since I was a kid is currently liquidating the entire store, and closing in a few days. Hunan Wok, where I once found a cockroach in my beef and broccoli take out (don't tell me how that one's outlasted all the other 80s Chinese restaurants) is gone and is being replaced by a grocery store. Both sides of the La Taqueria restaurant store are for rent. And, now I just read that the Olive Vine is being sold. All these places are within 4 blocks of each other.

I'm not gonna miss these establishments all that much. Like I said, nothing here is "cool" but what's next? A Chase bank? I just hope the economy brings back the mom and pop businesses or at least a 99 cents store. We could REALLY use one of those.

Holy crap our president is black!

2009-01-15T12:21:00.000-08:00

Sorry, the awesomeness of all of it just hit me again.

Bodega Cats rule

2009-01-04T21:37:00.001-08:00

Of course my first post of the new year is cat-related. I'm one year closer to becoming a full-fledged cat lady.

Observe, if you will:

2008-12-29T16:19:00.000-08:00

Two photos sent to me of a show I did in Philadelphia. Apparently my body and face were stolen by a retarded drug fiend:

Lively baked goods

2008-12-24T20:30:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, some friends and I visited the Lefkos Pyrgos bakery in Astoria. We were reminded of the bakery because of a joke earlier in the evening concerning going to White Castle, and Lefkos Pyrgos means "White Castle" in Greek.

The bakery was standard Mediterranean desserts: artificial flavors and other shiny things. A few of them were unappetizingly "alive." See mouse cake and smiling creepy creatures below:

Hump Day

2008-12-24T20:17:00.001-08:00

Today I went to the card shop to buy wrapping paper. I passed a shelf of party favors and hanging from a hook was a 4 tiered package of dinosaur toys, each sealed in plastic. In the spirit of xmas, someone had, by mysterious means, arranged all four packages as such:

Things that scare me

2008-12-19T13:25:00.000-08:00

THIS. Read from bottom up:

From: rebecca
Date: December 19, 2008 4:25:42 PM EST
To: Ana
Subject: Re: dream

No, I think you're dreaming about yourself -- but your brain is using your childhood blond friend as a stand-in. At least I hope so. Being pregnant terrifies me.

On Dec 19, 2008, at 4:24 PM, Ana wrote:

haaaaaaaa! OMG, i can't believe that!
well you are obviously meant to have a baby.

No i have nothing to tell you, atleast i dont think so.

what are your holiday plans?

On Fri, Dec 19, 2008 at 4:22 PM, rebecca wrote:

Dude. Remember this email you sent me over the summer?

>Begin forwarded message:
>From: Ana
>Date: July 1, 2008 9:17:39 AM EDT
>To: Rebecca
>Subject: ok i had the strangest dream about you
>
>that you were pregnant, and had a baby girl... it was sooooooo weird.
>but you were an amazing mother i remember, and it felt like thats what you had
>been waiting to do your entire life.

Do you have something to tell ME?

On Dec 19, 2008, at 4:21 PM, Ana wrote:

i had a dream last night that you were pregnant.
it was so real. you were so happy, and it just seemed so right.

do you have something to tell me?

:-)

miss you x.

gchat birthday thoughts

2008-12-02T21:45:00.000-08:00

me: do you feel old today? 28 and all?
Jackie: yes i def thought i would have kids and husband by now
me: really??!?!?!
Jackie: but then i also thought i would be a ballerina

Black Friday at the Museum

2008-11-28T14:37:00.000-08:00

Today R and I ventured to the Museum of Natural History which I blogged about last winter. Supposedly people go shopping on Black Friday, but unfortunately every single non-shopper was at the museum with us.

It was madness: drooling children, full elevators, gawking tourists at every turn.

At a quick stop for a snack on the 4th floor cafe, I ordered a carton of Yoohoo, and decided ignore the price, a whopping $3.65! After ordering and receiving the Yoohoo, I was instructed to pay at the register. The woman in front of me was still ordering food. I asked very politely if I could please squeeze by her to the register and she responded "Well I have to pay for my children anyway" (who were in front of her waiting and by the way, were not "children" but full fledged teenagers) "so it'll just be a second!"

Whoa, lady! Apparently, you've never been to NY, where there are two lines (one to order, another to pay and they are not tethered to one another. The two line system was created to speed up the cafe process. We all understand this and thus do not act like a douches by forcing people with completed orders behind us to wait for us to complete our orders in front of them.

I rolled my eyes and waited for Ms. New Jersey to order. Then we preceded to the register where she ordered a cup of coffee (hadn't we just been through this!?) I caught R's eye, waiting for me by the entrance and mouthed to him "I hate her."

Couldn't agree more

2008-11-21T22:11:00.000-08:00

Oh, so Basil isn't the only one?

2008-11-20T19:32:00.001-08:00

http://www.catsforobama.com

This can't be serious

2008-11-19T09:28:00.000-08:00

Canary in a cage

2008-11-19T09:20:00.001-08:00

This mornings phone call with my dad/landlord (a stellar combination) went something like this:

Dad: Hi
Me: Hi -- Can you turn up the heat?
Dad: Did you just wake up?
Me: Yes.
Dad: Where have you been lady??? There's been no heat since 6:30 this morning. Are you familiar with the phrase canary in a cage?
Me: Um, not really.
Dad: You don't know what a canary in a cage means?
Me: Um, no, not really.
Dad: A canary in a cage?
Me: What is it!?!
Dad: In the old days, when miners went down to mine, they'd put a canary in a cage down there, and if the canary died, they'd know it wasn't safe to mine. If it lived, then they'd know it was safe. You're my canary in a cage on 1st St. I need you to tell me if there's no heat. People have been calling me all morning from your building.
Me: ((inside thought: Is he saying I'm supposed to die and then we know there's no heat?)) Wait, are you seriously upset with me cause I was asleep?
Dad: What if you're the only person in the building? And you're asleep. How will I know there's no heat?
Me: Well, it won't matter, cause I'm asleep and no one else is affected.
Dad: I've got another call
Me: bye.

Finally, something great.

2008-11-16T16:10:00.000-08:00

This made me happy because I love this song by Innocence Mission and these kids are so great:

Change is-a-comin'

2008-11-10T11:30:00.000-08:00

The Morning After

2008-11-05T08:07:00.000-08:00

There's so much to say after last night. I don't wanna go on and on cause others will be writing about this for a long time to come.

Here's a few things that really pull at my heart strings about the Obama victory, other than the obvious Awesome Person elected to president (APEP):

* Michelle Obama as first lady! (It's so so nice to think about seeing a real gal in that spot -- not a robotic, skeletor, botox smiling alien.)

* A black family in the white house (This is just an incredible thing -- It was an amazing thing to think about and now it's actually going to happen!)

* Sarah Palin going home to Alaska (Sink back into obscurity or similarly game show hosting!)

* The new white house puppy (Finally a pet in the white house again! I hope they name it Yeswecan)

The streets were crazy last night. It felt like the time I was in Greece and they won the European Soccer Cup. People were honking, setting off fireworks, screaming and hugging strangers. On our drive home we shouted "woooooh" back and forth to people we passed. It was beautiful!

Um, okaaaay.

2008-10-30T09:59:00.001-07:00

From now on this blog will just be pictures of funny stuff I see. (Let's hope that's not true.)

He has my vote

2008-10-27T17:41:00.000-07:00

Anniversary

2008-10-17T21:58:00.001-07:00

I went jogging in the park today. It was a crisp fall day, really beautiful sunlight streaking through the colorful leaves. I felt genuinely happy and remembered that similar-feeling day last year when I explored the park looking for a home for the brave turtle. I thought to myself, I bet it's about a year since I started that blog.

So I looked up the date of the first post and today is, in fact, my one year anniversary of Brave Turtle. How's that for an internal clock.

I've been very lax in posting lately. I guess everything has seemed really stupid in comparison to the election and I've been a big ball of anxiety about it. I've got all my fingers crossed so until November 4 it's gonna be hard to play guitar, eat or type.

However, I resolve to post more often! Here's my first election-related item:

I was just thinking...

2008-09-12T08:10:00.001-07:00

that I really miss this guy:

Shoe Repair Men HEART Me

2008-09-11T10:38:00.000-07:00

Every time I go to a shoe repair place the guy behind the counter wants to comment on my looks and engage me in a lengthy conversation about Jews and Eastern Europe.

Last fall I went to the shoe repair place on Flatbush and the Israeli guy flirted with me and asked if I was Jewish. I just wanted new heels on my boots. To avoid him the next time, I went to the other place across the street. The old Jewish man gave me the eye and chatted with me about my heritage.

Today I need new soles on my boots and thought I'd give the place on 5th a try. As soon as walk in the door the guy is staring at me and says "You look just like my girlfriend in the Ukraine." I say "oh yeah, really?" and then he tells me I must be Ukrainian. I explain that my great grandparents came from that area and he is justified. Then he tells me my shoes will be ready sometime next week and could I leave my phone number -- this is not usually the procedure, but I do it anyway. Then he gives me the $5 Ukrainian Face Discount.

I'm extremely intolerant of skeevy shoe repair men. I don't know why I can't just enjoy the attention, but I feel creeped out thinking about how this guy might think of me while resoleing my stinky boots.

I'm running out of shoe repair places! Anyone know of a female run store, or even one run by a WASPy guy?

As embarrassing as this is,

2008-08-09T16:45:00.000-07:00

I have to tell you that I really like this song.

The lyrics are hideous.
The video is crap.
The message is pathetic and useless.

To top it off, the fact that it offends anti-gay assholes is hilarious, considering that:
1.) Jill Sobule already did this in the 90s.
2.) The video is the LEAST GAY thing I have ever seen.

All the said, it makes me wanna eat cotton candy and dance.

Rich said he's gonna write a follow-up song from the male point of view: "You Kissed A Girl (And I Liked It)."

This is where I'm at right now.

2008-08-07T19:10:00.000-07:00

a midsummer night's alien abduction

2008-07-28T16:45:00.000-07:00

I was planning to write a post about my trip to California and all about hiking around Yosemite, but this is far more intruiging.

July 4th?

2008-07-05T11:52:00.000-07:00

I spent all of July 4th (and some of the 3rd) vomiting and lying in bed! Oh boy was it good times. Must've been one of the kids I've been teaching who gave me the disease.

Anyways, I missed some interesting local Independence Day marvels like the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest which I attended two years ago.

This year, In a major overtime upset, Joey Chestnut (the white boy from California)beat six-time champion Takeru Kobayashi. Both ate 59 hot dogs till the timer ran out and since they were tied, they ate on in overtime:

Joey ate six more and was declared the winner.

From an interview later in the day:
"It was crazy," said the 24-year-old Chestnut, who was mentally prepared to eat 70 hot dogs and acknowledged that his body at times almost failed him. "It pushed back against me. I had to push harder. It just didn't want to swallow."

Funny, I ate nothing but a cracker the whole day and felt exactly the same way.

ummmmm...kay

2008-07-01T15:35:00.001-07:00

This just came up when I signed into myspace.

If that's what a hottie is, then I don't want one.

Animals.

2008-06-26T08:56:00.001-07:00

There are so many great critters in my neighborhood. Whenever I go to the park I see turtles, chipmunks, these crazy black squirrels, etc. The copy center on 7th Avenue has two hilarious cats that are always sleeping on the copy machines. Upstairs, at the shipping center, lives Henry:

Henry likes to climb in boxes and walk on the postage scale. I have half a mind to mail his cuteness to Abu Dhabi (Garfield fans anyone?)

Oh, and anyone looking for a job?

I'm late on this, but...

2008-06-21T21:03:00.000-07:00

this is one of the funniest things I've ever seen:

A glorious day

2008-06-16T16:08:00.001-07:00

Today I found out that I got rejected from an important music festival that I had been waiting months to hear back from. After applying for four years in a row, I've really become bitter when I see who is chosen instead of me as "emerging talent". It's so often the safe choice. I'm beginning to think my music is not obvious enough.

Feeling somewhat squashed, I sat down on a stoop to call my label guy and vent.

Just then, a bird shit on me.

It could have been much worse. In one fell swoop (no pun intended) the bird crapped five piles of green glop and only one managed to hit me. They were audible as they landed and I was surrounded. The dress I was wearing is itself green so, in effect, I was wearing shit-warfare camouflage. Really I was rather lucky.

All things considered, it was just another day of ups and downs in the music business.

Henna, curry, and white people

2008-05-28T07:07:00.000-07:00

Being white is really lame. I came to this conclusion after attending an indian wedding this past weekend. There were traditional dances, henna tattoos, gorgeous clothes, and lots of spicy food. It was a grand and joyful affair, and way cooler than anything I've seen us whiteys do. And, without going into detail, let me just say that my wimpy jewish guts paid heavily for the spice.

Henna tattoos are just fabulous. Everyone's was different. Mine looked vaguely like a whale. The henna artists worked with impressive quickness. I told mine she should consider a career in cake-decorating.

Old Brooklyn / New Brooklyn

2008-05-06T18:42:00.001-07:00

Greetings from Brooklyn, a place where times change... and fast.

The childhood home I grew up in and left 17 years ago just sold for 3.3 Million Dollars. A woodworking store my grandfather once owned is now a high-end make-up shop. 3 Bank of Americas have opened in 3 years in Park Slope.

... and now, the worst has come:

In case you can't read the sign on the neighborhood's newly opened Dashing Diva Salon, it reads:

Girls' Night Out: Every Thursday and Friday from 6 - 9pm.
FREE cosmopolitans with any manicure or pedicure service.

Let the yuppies descend! I'm living in a barfilicious Sex & the City episode.

I miss a lot of things, like the old Little Things Shop (now a Starbucks). There used to be so many regular ol' cheap Chinese restaurants. Most of all things used to be a bit more casual around here. My new neighbors (yuppie transplants) have a "No Trespassing" sign on their stoop, along with a chain lock on the gate keeping people from sitting and living it up Brooklyn-style. Isn't that what stoops are for??

Sometimes I get all Archaeologist-like and look for artifacts. Particularly special and well-preserved are these painted signs:

Hot Bird went out of business at least 10 years ago, but it's painted billboards persist. Their phone number was (718) HOT-BIRD and they sold really good chicken. The horrible Atlantic Yards project will soon build over any empty yards still clinging to the Hot Bird ads.

Don't get me wrong; some amazing things have happened in Brooklyn over the past decade. Quality has gone up in many ways. The park is better than ever. Food options have diversified. We're getting an Ikea!

Still, I feel mournful when I pass the few surviving old storefronts on Smith Street and when I see women with pearl earrings shuttling around babies in thousand-dollar strollers.

Say what?

2008-05-02T15:47:00.001-07:00

Um, apparently NJ Transit has a different understanding of "inside voice" than I do.

Most useful website ever.

2008-04-15T20:32:00.000-07:00

If you ever need to say something but just don't know the right way to, use a delightful greeting card from www.someecards.com. Here are a few of my faves:

Thanks to the ever clever Lanyard for alerting me to this and all things witty on the internet.

Do you see a resemblance?

2008-04-13T16:23:00.001-07:00

I'm glad winter's over.

UPDATE 4/20/08! TS has used his exceptional skills learned from years of computer animating for a big California company to create this new version of the aforementioned photo. The Michelin Man is tres chic now with his new handbag:

A delightful afternoon

2008-04-12T18:35:00.000-07:00

Someone swiped R's sideview mirror off his car, so we had to take the train to Philly for our gig on Friday. I never have any money and getting to Philly is a real bitch if you can't spring for the $100+ per person roundtrip on the Amtrak. We left at 9am, took the 10am NJ Transit to Trenton and the local burb SEPTA train. Two and a half hours later we were in Philly and a 20 minute walk later we reach our destination: a certain unnamed college during their spring fling celebration.

Sweaty and tired we walked around the entire quad looking for someone to give us a band pass. Security was no help. They gave us blank and confused looks. After a half-hour of searching for someone to help us, we called the emergency cell phone number I was given in an email and in no time a ditzy girl in a yellow college t-shirt arrived to greet us. We were skirted past the college kids being IDed and searched and arrived at the underworld.

Inside the quad, a debaucherous day of fratty goodness was in full swing: moonwalks with sorority girls bouncing, funnel cakes and fried chicken, boys in visors rocking out to bad DJs. (I found out later that the headlining band for the evening would be Limp Bizkit.) Nothing like the college spring weekends I attended with pot smokers sitting on the lawn relaxing to Ben Harper tunes.

Our guide left us by the stage saying we'd go on in a half-hour and to "chill until then." We stood by the stage, eardrums throbbing from the DJs beat. I looked around for the type of person who'd like my music. I couldn't imagine any of these sigma sigma sigmas being interested. The idea of playing for the flailing crowd of capri pants, greek lettered shirts and the line of kids waiting to ride the bungie bull made me feel vaguely nauseous.

I just googled the name of the college and "spring fling" and found this frat guy's account of attending spring fling in '96, and this photo:

I looked at R and said "I don't think I can do this." R said "But we're already here. We should just play." But it was too late. I wanted to save whatever humility I had left and we were off, back out of the quad, across the street and off the campus. Near to show time my phone rang. It was our yellow t-shirted friend. I ignored the call and turned the phone off. We dragged ourselves in the hot day all the way to Chinatown and ate some dumplings. Near the restaurant we passed a place that sells take-out containers. Every kind of vessel for your chinese food. Pretty interesting:

Then we found the Chinatown bus and squeezed in. By 5:30pm, and $90 lighter, I was back in NY. R and I were tired, dazed, and a little depressed. I felt stupid for taking a gig that I should have known could end up like that. I say yes to way too many gigs like that, but I think it took me going all the way to another city and staring the gig in the eye to finally realize my own worth. Saying no was a powerful feeling. I only hope I can say it sooner next time.

Are we fucking nuts?!

2008-03-22T14:11:00.000-07:00

America: The only place on Earth where someone would spend $1,350 on a cornflake that resembles Illinois.
Read the CNN story.

The thing is the cornflake doesn't look like Illinois; it just looks like an oblong cornflake:

My cats are attention whores.

2008-03-18T17:22:00.001-07:00

Bad Idea

2008-03-18T17:13:00.000-07:00

Dear H&H,
You already make the best bagels in the world; there is no need to dye them green for St. Patrick's Day.
Thank you.

Adventures in Tennessee

2008-02-21T14:13:00.001-08:00

This week's tour takes us to North Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia. Tennessee is a strange state, liberal and familiar feeling towards the east, biblical and southern feeling towards the west. I was so disenchanted from this past summer's visit to Nashville that we chose just to stay east. We hit Johnson City and Knoxville. Johnson city is an empty town with a spread out, warehouse, old west vibe. The population is hicks and lesbians, a strange mix for sure. The buildings all had this amazing old-time quality with washed out painted signs and storefronts from the 50s. Here's one of my faves:

Knoxville is probably my favorite town in the south. They even have jews there -- just a few, but it's a big relief for me. R and I chowhounded the best spots to eat and discovered a real fringy spot which kicked ass. It's an Egyptian place called King Tut and, for all your NYC Kabab Cafe fans, King Tut's owner Moe is Ali's doppelganger. He's got weird signs and all kinds of crazy shit all over the walls and he serenaded us with a toy violin. The food was great but Moe was the main attraction. He placed a king tut hat on my head to create this lovely image:

Only in Tennessee would an Egyptian man say goodbye to his customers with a "Goodnight! God bless you all."

Last night a knitter saved my life.

2008-01-30T15:52:00.000-08:00

Is January not the most dreadrul month of the year?! I couldn't even bring myself to blog! It is a cold, bland and depressing time... every year. And I know this going in. But this year, I decided, I would have a project, something to while the dark hours away and see me through to the other side. I learned to knit. It got me through January.

Knitting is an age-old tradition and a useful skill. It's especially useful in the winter when yarn can really show off its warming magic. Knitting one stitch is not all that hard, but making a scarf, hat, sock, etc is is much more complicated than I ever imagined. While sewing is a process of putting pieces together, knitting is really more like building. You have to plan everything out ahead of time. And each stitch is like a little block, piled on top of the others, but it has to be done just so. And if you make a mistake, you have to correct it right away, or it will completely fuck everything up.

My dear friend RM taught me to knit and purl and the Stitch and Bitch book provided necessary help whenever RM wasn't around.

Knitting is the PERFECT "I feel awkward" activity. Like smoking, it really fills in those uncomfortable moments when you wanna do something, but not something too involved. Sitting alone at a restaurant? Waiting for a friend? Riding the subway? Long bus ride? Stuck in the doctors office waiting room? Knit, damn it!

I finished my first knitting project today and I wore it to work. Here it is on January 9:

And today:

Snowshoeing a wholesome wintery treat

2007-12-29T06:50:00.000-08:00

I got a gig at a ski lodge and thus a wintery weekend ensued. R and I went snoeshowing which, as A pointed out, sounded very wholesome. And indeed it was.

"Barnie" is the word surfers use to describe total amateurs. I don't know what the snowshoeing or skiing word for this is, but I am certainly a "barnie" as far as any sport goes, especially those involving snow.

We rented snowshoes from the local sport shop. As I was putting them on I looked for the letters L and R to tell me which foot went where but only found two L's. The bastards gave me two left feet. How fitting.

Snow shoes make you feel a little bit like Jesus. He walked on water; now you can walk on snow! You won't sink. Weight gets distributed around the huge clown shoes so that you don't hit gravity in one spot and break the snow. You just glide right over it.

Snowshoes are a lot more high tech than I expected. As I told R later, I had thought that we'd be walking on tennis rackets. Just like the Eskimos.

Oldest cat in known universe a total mensch

2007-12-10T08:27:00.000-08:00

This weekend I played two gigs upstate and stayed the night with my boyfriend at his aunt's house in Prattsville, NY. It's pretty far out there and they keep themselves company with 5 cats and a dog, a few chickens, and some geese. The last time we visited I met Peewee the cat, who, at that time, was 22 years old. He was a really sweetie and kept climbing into bed with us, pawing the pillows, and drooling like an old man.

The average male cat lives about 15 years, so I assumed Peewee's feline soul had passed on long ago. To my surprise, Peewee is still alive and kicking and is 26 now! The cat is almost as old as me. He looks like death, but is still as sweet as ever and fairly lively, for what in cat years is 130 years old.

Spending time with an animal as old as oneself is a strange experience. I'm 27 and, like most any human that age, fairly youthful in my physical and mental capacities. Peewee is one year my junior, and a bony, snotty, ragged animal. However, he climbs right in your lap and sits down, purrs, drools and expects a full petting regardless of his less than smooth fur, sunken eyes and ragged tail. He's a hopeless romantic and really charms you.

It's unlikely that Peewee will still be around on our next visit to the house, but just the fact that he was here this time was an inspiration. It really made me appreciate how much time on this earth we humans get and I can only hope to live it as fearlessly and lovingly as this scrawny orange mensch has.

I couldn't agree more

2007-11-21T18:07:00.000-08:00

Museum of Natural History still awesomest place ever.

2007-11-20T08:55:00.000-08:00

The American Museum of Natural History has undergone some changes lately. They've updated their look, elevated the the giant boat at 79th St, moved around some exhibits and opened the Spitzer Hall of Human Origins. Though they still haven't brought back my old favorite, the Eskimo hall, the museum has managed to stay current without losing its old timey, secretive appeal.

The new evolution hall trumps the old hall by a bunch. It looks gorgeous and does an excellent job of presenting evolution in an understandable timeline. It's hard to leave and imagine how anyone could be a creationist. Besides all this, there are just more bones, skulls, which everyone loves. The exhibit has really expanded on the recent past, and thus has an excellent area devoted to the "Creative Explosion," that time around 30 - 20,000 years ago when language, art and music emerged. It totally satisfied my need for awe and mystery.

I visited on a Saturday afternoon and the place was crawling with people. Gawking tourists were everywhere on the first and second floors, but I managed to escape up to the third floor where the load of visitors lightened, bathroom lines were nil and some of the most interesting anthropolgical artifacts are kept.
Up in the Margaret Mead hall of Pacific Cultures, I stared at some strange masks and figures. The stared right back.

It's Kelly, betch!

2007-11-03T14:08:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw the new Margaret Cho show "The Sensuous Woman" at the Zipper Theatre. Not your average Friday night activity (at least not for me). It's a variety show of sorts, complete with stand-up comedy, rapping about all things gay, and lots and lots of stripping burlesque-style. Margaret herself takes almost everything off several times and is generally out and proud about her body. It was definitely a night of self-affirmation. I hooted and hollered like I was in the audience at Rickie Lake.

But the most exciting event of the evening was getting to meet the fabulous Liam Sullivan as Kelly, from "Shoes". He/she is part of the cast of the show and does a deadpan version of "Shoes" and another hilarious tune called "Let me Borrow that Top." I wasn't so wild about the live performance itself, but the show lets the cast out into the bar afterward so you can meet and talk to everyone.

The list of famous people I've seen or met in New York City is long. I grew up here and they've never impressed me really. That is, until I met Kelly. I've never been so excited to meet a celebrity in my life.

Every so often today I mutter to myself sheepishly "I met Kelly!!" I don't know what it is about her! I just fall to pieces over this youtube phenomenon with 18 million views and counting. At least 20 of those views are mine.

I bought this "Betch" underwear to remember her by. Am I a starfucker?!

Hoboken

2007-10-26T22:13:00.001-07:00

Somehow I seem to end up playing shows in places lately where people are really dull and vapid. This week's journey to Hoboken was no different.

The path train was full of tight jeans; the streets were overrun by tucked-in button-down shirts on cell phones. And the gig was one of the weirdest yet. I think this obligatory photo for the sponsor says it all:

Help! I'm surrounded!!

Growing up

2007-10-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

You know you're playing the wrong guitar when the people that come up to you and want to play it are all balding men over 50. My guitar wasn't a good fit, at least not anymore. We were an odd couple and I treated it like a ball and chain.

So today I bought a new guitar... and I sold an old one.

Here's me trying out the guitar I decided to buy:

It's a classy jumbo Guild, the same one Emmylou Harris plays.

Everyone suggested I sell my guitar on craigslist, as I'd get more money than a store could offer on trade, but I don't want strange older men coming over my house to noodle on my guitar and chat. I can just see myself getting defensive and blurting out "It's not for sale!!" Afterall, I'd been playing it for almost a decade. Sometimes it's best to part with something and let fate decide where it goes next.

I got my guitar when I graduated high school and it's been with me all these years, all these songs, all these gigs. I'm not in a place where I can afford to keep instruments for sentimental value and so I must admit, it no longer suits me, that I am different, that I am growing up.

Sauce Day

2007-10-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

Jewish girl who gets take-out meets Italian keen on keeping old-country family recipes alive.

My boyfriend is awesome. He makes his own sauce. Yesterday in Philly we bought 25 pounds of plum tomatoes and today was sauce day. He canned the tomato puree by boiling it in mason jars. Now we can keep them all winter for those warm meatballs and spaghetti moments on cold days. Seriously, I am so lucky. WHO IS THIS GUY?!

Gigs and more gigs

2007-10-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

This weekend I played two gigs that couldn't have been more different.

Let's start with the good one:

Several people actually came up and said "Thank you" after our set. I'd never heard that before. I mean, when someone does a good job playing music, I say "Great set!" or "You sounded awesome," etc. But the thank-you's? That is just above and beyond the call of duty. It's so sweet, I felt uncomfortable. This was Philadelphia: land of the forgotten, or apparently, the very grateful.

Now the bad one:

An Ameriana music festival in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. Shocklingly it was my first time going to Delaware, and due to the awful nature of the evening to come, it will probably be my last.

Labeling something a "festival" lends an air of credibility. However this was no festival, at least not in any way that I've ever understood that word. No, it was more a shameless ploy to make money for a seaside frat hang.

There were 3 "stages." I was one of the lucky ones who played outside, near the ocean. It smelled like dead fish for most of our set and of the ten people watching, most turned out to be from other bands playing that evening. However, as I learned later, this was nothing compared to another "stage" across the way which turned out to be a dive bar complete with screaming skinny girls, guys in visors, and 14 television sets circling the entire room. My friend who played over there was completely drowned out and ignored.

My favorite quote of the evening overheard from a drunk frat brother:

"Dude, I'm all about America, but this Americana thing is killing me."

We stayed in a motel that had this ridiculous sign in the room. I was loopy from the "festival" and it made me laugh so hard:

When our idols disappoint.

2007-10-18T19:48:00.000-07:00

Today I made a big mistake. Maybe I was high from all the good feelings of self-congratulation from the turtle rescue, but I bought the new Joni Mitchell record.

Joni Mitchell was once so good, so subtle, so expressive, so brilliant.. I discovered her in high school and bought every record. When I'd burned through of all the classic and experimental albums, I squeezed whatever profundity I could out of even the notoriously bad records of the 80s. I had to have everything, the whole catalog.

Joni had a brief period of pretty good work in the early 90s. My freshman year of college I bought "Taming of the Tiger" and found one track I really enjoyed - only one, but I clung to it. After that, everything she released was covers of her own tunes, done with this or that famous musician, some philharmonic orchestra, or some such ego-stroking antic. I gave up. How many times can you listen to "Big Yellow Taxi" reworked?

"Shine" was released a few weeks ago. It's Joni's first new material in 10 years. I thought maybe, just maybe, she didn't suck anymore. It's not just regular awful; it's really, really, extra I'm-embarrased-I-own-this-record awful. Aside from the fact that she hasn't been good in a very long time, there were two obvious reasons I never should have bought this:

1.) The label - "Shine" was released on Hear Music, the Starbucks label.
2.) The title itself - "Shine"?! How bland, commercial and vapid can you get?

But, like everyone we love, who disappoints, we hope again and again, faithfully, that they will change.

Not only is the record poorly composed, awkward, and uninteresting, it's angry and pathetic. She complains throughout the entire album about how we've raped the world and ruined everything and lashes out against the Catholic church, genocide, holy wars, Las Vegas, Wall St, mean drivers, corporations, even cell phone users. The whole album reads like a laundry list of ills, imbued with no creativity whatsoever. Rolling Stone said it best in their review: "Joni Mitchell is the kind of aging egoist who gives ecology a bad name."

One should never, in my opinion, use the world "cell phone" in a song -- the list of illegal words in songs also includes "email," "remote control," and anything strange or inflated like "semiotics."

Check out this absurd verse, where she resorts to laughable profanity:

"Shine on world-wide traffic jams
Honking day and night
Shine on another asshole
Passing on the right!"

ASSHOLE?! Joni? Is that you??

And the worst offense of all:

Track 6: Big Yellow Taxi

Brave Turtle Crossing.

2007-10-18T10:34:00.000-07:00

Today took an unexpected turn. I was following my dad as I usually do (begrudgingly upon his orders) to learn about the real estate business. A storefront was receiving new gates and doors and one of the contractors told us he had a turtle in his truck. He had been driving over from Bensonhurst and saw the turtle crossing the street in front of him. He stopped his truck and picked up the little guy. Someone must have had him as a pet and let him go. (So sad). The contracter said he planned to give the turtle away to another worker at the end of the day.

My dad and I went out to look at the turtle. As soon as we did, many other people crowded around. They all wanted to take him home. The contractor had set a bowl of water out for him to swim in. Brave Turtle didn't like the water and was out crawling around the back of the truck. He looked like a Box Turtle, which lives on land and shouldn't be put in water anyway.

I started to worry that someone would come by and grab him, take him home, and not know how to properly take care of him, or worse, they'd put him in a tank thinking he was a water turtle and drown him. I called a cab and asked them to take me to the nearby Prospect Park Zoo. I figured someone there would know what to do with Brave Turtle. I waited on the corner holding him from the top by his shell while he did a nice panicked air-swimming dance.

Riding in a cab with a turtle is a strange experience. They really like walking around and all the twists and turns of the road make it especially dangerous. I ended up holding him on my lap and while he sort of treadmilled around with his little claws and got dirt all over my dress.

We pulled up at the zoo entrance which was crowded with kids on school trips. Kids see an animal and go nuts. They were all reaching for him and ooohing and ahhing. I explained the situation to the ticket saleswoman. She said I was not allowed to bring in outside animals to the zoo but that she had no way to contact the zookeeper so that I should go in and pretend I didn't know about the no-animals-in-the-zoo rule.

I found the first person who looked official and asked if she was a zookeeper. I think she was just a volunteer but she looked really startled and told me about the no-animals-in-the-zoo rule. She called a zookeeper over who bitched me out for bringing in an outside animal because it could "endanger the zoo's collection." Hey, I'm just a really nice gal who paid nearly $10 to bring a turtle over in a cab just to get advice from the only people I thought could help. Sooo-rrry!

After I was sufficiently admonished I was told that the turtle was suitable for park life. It was, in fact, an Eastern Box Turtle, which lives on land. They told me land turtles like to live near water but not in it, so if I placed him near a lake in the park, under some vegetation, he'd probably do fine. Also, it seemed early enough in the season that he'd have time to build a home and hibernate.

I left the zoo in a hurry. Brave Turtle and I had a long walk through the park ahead of us. People waiting by the carousel had confused faces. A pair of grandparents with their grandchild laughed and called out something in Russian to each other. One crazed nature-lover stopped and interrogated me: "What are you doing with that turtle? You know it's a land animal?! Don't drop him in the water!" she warned me.

I found a nice spot near the boathouse under some vines by the lake. I put Brave Turtle down and he stood frozen. It occurred to me that the whole time he may have thought I was a hawk. I had been holding him by his shell with one hand, like a bird claw. It was the only way I could keep him from gaining traction and squirming, or worse, falling.

Eventually Brave Turtle began crawling and exploring his new home, Prospect Park. I only hope he finds a nice lady friend to spend the winter with.