Posts Tagged ‘new-york-city’
A while ago I worked in the Locations department of VH1’s Hip Hop Honors. Our job was basically to coordinate the coming and going of various trucks and tour buses so that traffic continued to flow on the street and all our vehicles had places to park and/or unload. This meant that I was outside, sitting on 35th street in New York City for 10 days straight.
As I sat stagnantly and waited for trucks to come or go, the world around me was constantly buzzing. I began to really feel like a part of the city. I began to see the same people coming and going every day, walking to and from work in their own little world. Occasionally, someone would stop and ask what was going on and why we had half the street coned off. Local vendors would stop to chat, some in a vain attempt to befriend us in hopes that we would allow them to park in our section of the street.
Over time, I began to love the constant hum of the passing traffic and almost started longing for that unique brand of New York street stench.
… almost
I felt like a part of the neighorhood, like I was sitting on the stoop with my friends, chatting with my neighbors. For me, New York became a living, breathing being. It had soul, it had character, it was alive. I could see it, I could feel it, I became a part of it.
I was 35th street.
Few cities actually achieve this. I have lived all over the US and have only experienced this in small instances in certain cities before this show. It happens most often while I’m listening to music. I felt it once while listening to Dropkick Murphys in Boston. I felt it again while listening to Tupac in Los Angeles. As cliché as it is, I feel it every time I drive down the Las Vegas strip listening to Frank Sinatra.
Certain cities have it, while others don’t, but I’m not sure what “it” is. I want to call it character, but there’s more to it than just that. What is it about these cities that spawns so many great artists and artistic movements. What about Seattle spawned the grunge movement? Why did gangster rap explode in Los Angeles? Why is East Bay punk different from East Coast punk?
I see it often in local restaurants and shops. They have a certain flare. You can taste it in the food; you can see it in the people. I can’t explain it, but the second I enter these cities I can tell whether they’ve got it or not. Some cities just don’t have it. I’ve decided I will never settle down in one of those cities. I’ve lived in a few of those places before. They seemed to suck the life out of me like some soulless monster trying to fill a deep void.
I’m not sure what the point of this little post is; I have no theories, just thoughts. Maybe it comes with age. Maybe some cities are just too young. I’ve never lived there, only visited, but Austin seems like a city that will have it in force some day. They’ve definitely got at least a part of it. Maybe it comes with art. Maybe a city needs a solid community of artists to truly attain it.
I think that might be it. I think it has to come through the art in the community. If the art is substantial or of any merit, the community it came from will most likely gain the same merit. The only common thing I see in those cities I lived in that just didn’t have it, was a lack of a good art scene. They had very little good music, few galleries, and no cinema worth anything. They did not support their local artists and I’m sure the artists just left, before the city sapped them of any character they may have had. I know artists in some of these cities, and they complain about that very thing almost daily.
This may be some sort of microcosm for any society. This may be the very thing that every society must have in order to survive. Maybe society needs art. Maybe art is what gives a society its life; its soul. I’m sorry to go religious on you, but I’ve heard it said that art is man’s attempt at recreating the divine. Maybe without this connection with the divine, society as a whole will fail.
Maybe I stayed up too late.
Tags: art, Articles, artists, big-cities, film, food, hip-hop-honors, music, new-york-city, people, society, stoop, trucks
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What? I’ve been busy. Get off me!
This weeks theme is Music Videos featuring comedians.
Kanye West - Can’t Tell Me Nothin’ (Feat. Zach Galifianakis)
Kanye West - Can’t Tell Me Nothin’ w/ Zach Galifianakis
Kanye pretty much just ripped off an old Fiona Apple video, but hey, that’s what Kanye does, and I like this video better, which is also what Kanye does.
Travis - Selfish Jean (Feat. Demetri Martin)
Selfish Jean by Travis Interpreted by Demetri Martin
I saw these guys with Megan here in New York and Demetri stopped by and did this live on the stage with them. It was amazing. Best concert I’ve been to all year, and that’s saying a lot. I saw the best Dave Matthews Band concert I’ve ever been to just last March. Sorry, Dave.
Dave Matthews Band - Everyday (Feat. Judah Friedlander)
Dave Matthews Band - Everyday
Hey, call me a DMBhead, but I had to make it up to them somehow after the last blurb. Besides, this is just a good video and a happy song. Fans of 30 Rock should appreciate it.
Tags: comedians, dave-matthews-band, demetri-martin, Favorite Video Friday, fiona-apple, judah-friedlander, kanye-west, Music-Videos, new-york-city, travis, zach-galifianakis
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People need to relax. I don’t know if it’s something in the air lately or what, but everyone around me has been freaking out about the stupidest things. Relax, people, it’s not worth it, life is way too short!
It all started the other night. I was chilling in the subway with Megan, waiting for the train when some guy dressed in hospital scrubs started asking us questions. He’s all, “Have you been waiting long,” and we said not that long and he asked how often they come and we said about every 15 minutes, it runs local at that time of night. Then he got all worked up and started cursing under his breath about how he was going to have to do this every night going all the way to Brooklyn locally.
So then I start thinking to myself, that sucks dude (that’s right, I still think in dude, I’m old, leave me alone), but you need to relax. There’s obviously nothing he can do about it unless he gets a new job. But he just sat there until the train came shaking his head and cursing very audibly under his breath, making everyone around him uncomfortable.
Then, the next day, I needed to go to the post office to pick up a package. I waited in line in standard post office fashion for about 15 minutes (during which time the guy in front of me asked to borrow my pen, took it to the nearby table, used it, then set it on the table forgetting all about me. I looked at the pen on the table, looked at him, back at the pen, back at him, chuckled to myself and thought, really? Really? You’re just going to leave it there, really? Then I went over and grabbed it without him seeing. It made me laugh). Then, out of the blue, some lady in the mailing line started freaking out. She starts yelling at the lady behind her window about who knows what, saying she wants to speak to a manager and she can’t believe how she’s been treated, and she will never let this go, and that it is her duty to report it to the proper authorities. Again, I thought it was all very humorous and chuckled to myself.
Then she throws her hands in the air and storms over to my line to talk to our lady behind the window (sounds like a catholic church, “Our Lady of Behind the Window” … I apologize to any Catholics out there that may have just been offended by that lame attempt at a joke. It will never happen again. Please do not set your Mel Gibson on me), interrupts the person already at the window and starts demanding to see the supervisor. She’s told something or other and steps to the side where she continues to whine about how badly she’s being treated, and how she’s late to work, but will stand here until she talks to a supervisor because “this will not stand.”
Now, I’m generally concerned for the plight of humanity, it bothers me to watch people suffer, but I just wanted to laugh in this lady’s face. It turns out she was all worked up because when she asked what she needed to put on some mailing form, the window lady told her, “I don’t care, put whatever you want on there. You can draw a picture for all I care.” Come on, that’s funny. You have to hand it to window lady, that’s rich. But this lady took it personally and decided not only to waste her time, but the time of two separate post office lines, to make a stand.
Lady, you asked a stupid question. You deserve to be mocked. If anything, window lady should be commended for her actions. Mailing forms are clearly labeled with boxes denoting the required information, but rather than use your head and look at the form, you decided to waste window lady’s time with a stupid question then spiral out of control into a ranting rage not unlike the Tasmanian Devil, thus wasting the time of an entire post office full of people. If anything, the most her little rant probably did was get window lady a verbal warning, and maybe, just maybe, a written warning with a note on her record. Well done, Post Office Rager, you sure made the world a better place with your stand. Now go breathe into a paper bag somewhere and leave us all alone.
My day was far from over after this little episode. I then went to Bed Bath and Beyond in search of an a/c unit to squelch this sweltering heat in which I live and took the subway back as I usually do these days. On the subway, there was a cute little 4 or 5-year-old boy squirming around in his seat because it had just rained and his pants were all wet. His poor mother was doing all she could to keep him happy and under control. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see this old man shaking his head and looking up at the heavens as if to say, “Please God, make it stop.”
It’s a little kid for crying out loud! Are you really freaking out because a little kid won’t sit still? Really? Really?! You’re getting your Depends all up in a bunch because some little kid can’t sit still on a subway that’s not moving. Really? Then the mother brought out some toys for the kid and he started having a grand old time with a toy whale, but the old man was still freaking out! The kid was having the time of his life playing with his whale and talking to the other passengers and this cranky old man (who was actually only in his 40s or 50s or something) was completely distraught because his little bubble was being disturbed. You know what, go back to your bubble, bubble man. Let the kids play with their whales!
I don’t understand what it is inside these people that make them so concerned with the factors around them over which they have no control. I got caught in the rain yesterday and the entire bottom half of me was soaked to the bone. Did I sit and whine about it as the rain kept pouring down on me? No, I simply walked faster so I could get to the museum and be out of the rain (I know, I know, I’m great, I deserve a medal for my bravery). My point is, people need to relax! Quit taking things personally! Learn to enjoy things a little bit! Learn to laugh at yourself! Quit using exclamation points! Life is hilarious if you let it be. Just enjoy it.
Man, I need to relax!
Tags: Articles, dating, new-york-city, post-office, relax, subway
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So, after a year and a half or so of living in Las Vegas, I’m moving once again. It’s weird. I’ve moved a lot in my life, but for some reason, this time feels different. I feel like Hugh Grant’s character in About a Boy, like every day, every activity in which I involve myself is broken up into smaller units of time, which units I’m slowly running out of. It’s not that any unit of time is any more precious to me than it usually was before I decided to move, more that I’m a lot more aware of these units these days.
Taking a shower: 1 unit.
Going to work: 16 units.
Hanging out with friends: 5 units.
Microwaving Chimichangas: 1 unit.
Reading: Not enough units.
Watching movies: way too many units to count.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe I have become Hugh Grant’s character in About a Boy, only not so British, or man-whorish. Maybe I’ve successfully become an island here in Las Vegas and this move is disturbing the peace on my tranquil little island. Most of my friends are now married, so at most I see them once a week, and my family lives a few thousand miles away, and I guess I’ve become a little too well adjusted to this island life. I do what I want when I want to do it, only associating with the people I’ve chosen to associate with. This move threatens to put an end to all that. I may actually have to leave this hip little island getaway. That is not something I’m looking forward to. Seriously, you should check it out sometime, it puts that island in Pinocchio to shame, mostly because my guests don’t turn into donkeys at the end of the day. A few of them might feel like a jackass, but that’s their own doing. Luke’s Magical Island assumes no responsibility for any feelings of jackassity that may occur as a result of your stay.
What’s most interesting to me is the way people react when they find out I’m moving. First, they ask where I’m moving to. I tell them New York and their eyes light up as they ask, “The city?!” I just smile and nod and they say something like “That’s so cool,” or “Wow!” or “I’ve never been to New York, I’ve always wanted to go,” each of which is followed closely by “So does that mean I can stay at your place when I visit?” To most people, it’s like New York City is some magical place from the movies and TV shows that instantly catapults any resident of that city into some strange category in the upper echelon of society. I’ve been to the city. Sure, it’s cool, but it’s not echelon cool. It’s just an island full of people living as islands. I guess that’s kind of cool.
I don’t think the island thing is really the answer. I mean really, if I can live as an island here, it’ll be a lot easier over there. So why does this move feel so weird? Maybe it’s because it’s the first time in my life that I’m moving somewhere completely foreign, not really knowing anyone in the area, and having no idea where I’m going to live or specifically what I’m going to be doing. That should make me scared, but it’s not fear I’m feeling. I know it’s the right move, it’s the right time, and I’m sure it’ll work out. I’m not scared. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I can’t even convince myself that I am. It all just feels weird.
Maybe it just means I’m finally entering the “adult” world. Maybe that’s it. Las Vegas is kind of a transitional place. Most of the people I know out here are in that transitional phase of their life between college and career. Maybe this weirdness is just the feeling that comes with leaving that phase behind. Maybe this is the feeling of “growing up.” Maybe this is the feeling of actually becoming an island. Whatever the case, I’m not getting on any stages with strange little boys to sing “Killing Me Softly.”
Tags: about-a-boy, Articles, growing-up, las-vegas, moving, music, new-york-city, simon-and-garfunkel
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