The New York Metro guide assured this:
“7/10 7pm Curmudgeonly comedian Lewis Black reads from his memoir, Nothing’s Sacred.”
At 7:40 pm A curmudgeon I can only assume to be L.Black but can’t verify because the bookstore is so jammed gives an exercise to approximate the feeling you get working as a writer: Take ahold of a pencil in your right hand, if that’s your strong hand…and then raise up your left hand…then ram the left hand with the pencil as hard as you can…that’s what writing feels like. Seriously, it’s like a f***ing annoying homework assignment every single day…..and then you hand it in and the editor’s all: wahhhh wahhhh wahhhh…
He finished up. I left. I was feeling less curmudgeonly, choosing to marvel at what beautiful backlit edges you get on sunset clouds in New York/East Coast….trimmings of yellow brilliance that look like sky-writing in metallic cursive until your brain deciphers it all…
Spooky technology: Yesterday while enjoying the largely attended McCarren Pool concert event in Greenpoint my pocket began vibrating. It was a text message that said: ” I can see you.”
I only just got my first cell phone so I am good prey for such spooktech and I got a shiver of vulnerability that I haven’t felt since I got the phone call from my extortionist the morning after my mugging in Moscow. “You are Dave?”
Nicest compliment paid to me by a stranger, in awhile (and given it was issued within Brooklyn, I award it more points): “Man…you look too cool to buy an air conditioner.” He’s given me a powerful gift, a mantra I repeat in my head when I’m not feeling so cool. a reminder and a status to strive for (oops, ended in a preposition…not cool). Thanks, red-vested guy at Target on Flatbush near Atlantic.
Apparently when Target opened there, a grand opening celebration was had by all, reviving the careers of Chloe Sevigniineennnny and beer canine Spuds Mackenzie. Ms. Sevigny’s as cool as I thought she might be. Bet she doesn’t need air condition…….either.
