Thursday, September 07, 2006

Yoshi, Rice Cooker














I suppose it's been a few days since I've had some time to write anything. I've been up to my neck in self-inflicted nonsense for the past week. I had been complaining of mild boredom since my return to NY (mostly because I am accustomed to being on a bus that never stops moving or on an airplane that drops me on a different continent every few days). I even resorted to seeing Pirates of the Caribbean (for the second time) and the remake of The Wicker Man (which, for real, is the worst movie that I have ever seen, it's almost worth the eleven dollars to see Nicholas Cage haul off and punch a woman in the face and then throw another across a bar...I am totally serious). So, in the midst of my off tour ennui I made a few phone calls to try to get some work around the city that didn't involve me actually touching, picking up or moving anything heavier than a bagel and wouldn't occupy my time for more than a day or two. I've gone and done it, and now I am in the middle of planning two tours, one post-fashion show party and I am also preparing myself for a trip to Alaska in nine days, as well as losing it...just a bit.















My hood has again become over run with construction. They have literally dug a giant hole, paved it, dug it up again, paved it again and have now decided that it may be a good idea to dig it up. This has been ongoing for about six months or so, frequently before seven in the morning and occasionally on Saturdays. I was doing my laundry the other day wondering why these guys feel the need to make such a mess and why it takes them so long to do anything. I decided to document the progress. I watched this one guy bang a piece of steel with a hammer for twenty minutes as his friend looked on. I am starting to understand why this is a never-ending project.



























I leave for Alaska on the 14th and will be gone for just about two weeks. I will be north of Fairbanks a ways and will be away from phone, computer, construction work and generally people and their nasty little faces for some time. I can't wait. I also have realized how ill-prepared I may be for this trip. My new hiking boots just arrived in the mail and I'm expecting to get some really comfortable thermal underwear today, but other than that I feel that I may have underestimated this little outing. I will be traveling a few hundred miles north of the Arctic Circle along a major oil pipeline, doing a bit of hiking, maybe a bit of camping, hopefully a lot of surviving potential bear attacks. I don't know, maybe I am second guessing my own ability. I've been reading up on Alaska for weeks, and I have a fiery passion for the outdoors since I've moved back to NY. I have also been in far more dangerous situations. Now I am just rambling and confusing my eager anticipation with common self-doubt. It will just be an adjustment from Brooklyn, I think, but goddamn am I looking forward to it. I even went shopping for pants the other day. The key to staying warm is layers, so you want to buy your pants big...




















As I was lamenting, I decided to take on some extra work because most of my friends are out of town and I don't know what to do with myself. So, I am in the middle of piecing together a Raconteurs (Raccoontours?) show at the Prada store this Friday. It is quickly becoming a nightmarish prospect to stage a rock show in an upscale retail store. The band is meant to play right here:















I am pulling an almost all-nighter tonight to get ready for tomorrow. It is going to be an ugly one, for sure. Hopefully someone will bring me Two Boots pizza again. Two Boots, I am convinced, is the absolute best pizza in the world. Yesterday I had something with white cheese and sweet sausage that made me want to weep into my iced tea. When I worked at the Bowery Ballroom years ago I was forbidden from going to Two Boots because our softball team was in the same intramural league as their team and we always lost to a bunch of skinny, South American pizza chefs. I felt truly deprived.















Last weekend the sky looked amazing. These big, fluffy clouds hovered right over your head and seemed to change shape every few minutes. It was pretty spectacular, although I am sure that it was signaling impending doom of some sort. Either way, here are a few pictures:





























1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

SO as I read you ramblings I got to thinking. GG allen should really be indited into the rock and roll hall of fame. I'd start a petition if i wasn't so lazy.

1:46 AM  

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