Not much to report this week, I'm afraid. I did attend a lovely art opening at my friend BJ's studio. He's doing some amazing sculpture work for some historical fixtures that will eventually find their way into museums. I went into DUMBO Brooklyn for it, checked out some great sculptures, had some Brie sandwiches, drank some cold Buds, avoided a massive rainstorm and then went to dinner with a bunch of buddies. I had stuffed chicken, filled with olives, spinach and sun-dried tomatoes. Tasty treats.
This evening I went to see Jeremy Enigk. It was refreshing for so many reasons. I've been feeling relatively passionless lately. Kind of numb. But when he played, I was bobbing to the rhythm like a mall punk at a secret acoustic death cab for cutie concert.
But honestly, that guy plays with an voice you don't hear everywhere. And, I mean, he's got a fantastic *voice*, but I'm talking about his "voice" - the distinct and original feeling you get when you hear him. He hasn't made a solo album in over 10 years, but he still sold out the Bowery Ballroom, and with good reason. His songwriting is priceless. It has a naturally imbedded theatricality that just captures you every time. Doesn't matter if I'm 18 or 28, it roots you where you stand. That doesn't happen often for me. And I'm not sure I'd enjoy it if it happened with any other songwriter, but it works for Jeremy.
At any rate, it's late and I have to go to sleep now. I'm supposed to go to the beach tomorrow. We'll see, I have my doubts it will ever happen.
Sorry this wasn't very funny. You'll see over time that I'm not always funny, and in fact, most of the time I'm not. Yeah, it's a world of disappointment you're about to jump into.
Well, in the spirit of being even mildly amusing, here is a picture of one of the Olsen Twins (does it matter which one? does it really fucking matter?) wearing a Metallica "Damage, Inc." t-shirt. But wait - that's not evening the funniest part! Any mallrat with a debit card can get a Metallica shirt at Sam Goody. But what's amazing to me is not the picture, the shirt, or even the Olsen involvement. No, it's the title of the picture, which is how I found it in the first place. The picture is called, "You're Not Alowed." I think all art should have a disclaimer like that.
Anyway, here' s the offending picture. Do you think even knows who or what a Pushead is? I just love the idea that an Olsen has angst or inner conflict over anything except what Prada garbage bag to use or what kind of sushi to throw up. They are fascinating little beasts.
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