I spent the weekend in New York City to perform at Le Poisson Rouge in the Village. I think I performed well, even though I got lost in Manhattan and arrived at the venue about ten minutes before I had to go on. It's nice to feel like you're at the point in performance where you can walk in off the street and nail it without sitting around psyching yourself up for an hour. After popping into the Cafe Wha? just to see it (I've been reading Dylan's autobiography) we wound up at a little wine cafe off the tourist strip and listened to a local jazz band who played and passed the hat.
Saturday Derek and I went to Coney Island, a place I never expected I would go. It's all the fifties electric optimism you would imagine, and the pier is legitimately beautiful. We strolled down the boardwalk and watched the human parade separating the ocean from the rollercoasters and hotdogs.
Saturday night our friend Greg was playing a private party at this cool little beer garden in Brooklyn. It was an old school barbecue -- ribs and burgers and probably more salad and veggie options than potato chips (thank you, food revolution). I ate a cheeseburger as the sun was setting in a small sea of fabulous, fading hipsters, listening to a blue mohawked geek in an Image Comics tshirt sing about how he wanted to fuck us all in the ass New Orleans style.
And Sunday, back home, I searched Craigslist on a whim and found the exact guitar I had been looking for. I called the seller and it turned out he was coming into Davis Square that night for a movie, so he brought it for me to try out.
It was a perfect fit.