Friday, August 18, 2006

Photobooth of Death

My friend Tyler is convinced that this photobooth, at a place called Enid's in Brooklyn, is cursed somehow. He has first hand knowledge of it causing the deaths of at least two people, on separate occasions, who had, just the night before taken photos in said booth. He told me the story in earnest even as these two girls were stumbling in to take pictures. I said that maybe he could impart some of his vast photobooth spiritual knowledge on these two before one or both of them wound up dead. He shrugged and walked off to the bar. Good show. Way to be a lifesaver.

Fuck Bruce Willis

When I was thirteen or so I remember going to see Redman. I have no other explaination other than I maybe had a friend who liked Redman and I got dragged along, but that is of little or no consequence to the matter at hand. So, Redman had a song wherein he would say 'fuck Bruce Willis,' and the crowd would say 'cause I die hard.' It goes on like that for five minutes or so. Being thirteen, I thought it was pretty fantastic. What a novel pop culture reference and, quite frankly, fuck Bruce Willis. I had this song in mind when my friend Nick told me this story (which, incidentially he tells much better, due to his genuine outrage). He was twelve years old or so and his family was on a skiing trip in Idaho. After a long day on the slopes (I'm not even sure that's how it works, I've never been skiing) they returned to the lodge to get loaded on hot cocco or whatever it is that you do. It was then that Nick spotted Bruce Willis across the room, his scruffy face dipping into a half-empty martini glass. Nick decides to wander over and say hello or maybe even have him sign an autograph. As he approaces he says softly, 'excuse me Mr. Willis.' Mr. Willis turns to see the bright eyed young boy, totally starstruck, nearly speechless in the presence of a movie star, and says in a most gracious manner, 'hey, fuck you kid.' Now I overheard Wayne Coyne talking about the bizarre nature of celebrity a few weeks ago. He was explaining how it is such a fragile thing to idolize or be idolized by a person, especially when the two meet in person. It's so easy to ruin someone's image of you, just by being rude. He explained how he was always fascinated by John Waters and how, on meeting him, he was nicer then he had imagined and took the time to talk to him. Wayne embraced his inner John Waters (there has got to be a better way to say that) and tried to make every interaction with his fans a positive one, wheather he was having a shit day or not. So, maybe Bruce Willis doesn't subscribe to the same positive school of thought as Wayne Coyne or John Waters, but it gets better. Nearly twenty years later, Nick is off somewhere in Europe with his band. He returns to his hotel rather late at night. As he approaches the front door he realizes that there is someone behind him. He politely opens the door for them and looks up to see Bruce goddamn Willis breeze past him into the hotel lobby. A thousand things rush through Nick's head, childhood trauma, ruined expectations, Moonlighting. Before he can even collect himself, Bruce Willis looks over his shoulder, glares right at Nick and says 'hey, fuck you buddy.' Amazing. He's like the Haley's Comet of ill-tempered celebrities. Twice in a lifetime, scorned by the same guy. And that guy from Die Hard, no less. Next time you see Bruce Willis, tell him Nick says 'fuck you.'

As an aside, in searching for pictures of Bruce Willis to accompany this bizarre story, I found the following:

Holy shit.

Pool Party

Some days it's alright being back in NY.

I went to McCarren pool last night to see Califone, Low and Iron & Wine.

My friend Dan called it 'magical,' but he's from LA. Even so, it's still a pretty cool place to see a show. This was my first time there, as I've been away from home a bit these days.

There was ice cream, and a lot of Brooklyn beer.

And a rock show ( 'rock' used quite loosely). What more do you need? I prefer the Iron without the Wine, or vice-versa. The man without the band. Low was spectacular, however, and should have headlined and played until everyone fell asleep, and then played those Pink Floyd covers that they used to do, around sunrise.