I elbowed Toby Keith

He's the country singer who wrote "These Colors Don't Run," and it was an accident. Actually I thought he was part of the stagecrew, until I saw him turn a corner and head for Stephen Colbert's guest chair.

See, April and I got the very last standby tickets for the Colbert Report (drop the T -- it's French, bitch). So we were standing next to an old guy from Wisconsin who was far less interested in talking bowling with me as he was in staring at boobs with April. Anyway, Toby walked past and I knocked him a good one. Oops.

Turns out Toby is some kind of redneck Democrat or something, with a new movie called, get this, Beer For My Horses. He sang, which was not so hotso. Would've preferred the originally scheduled guest, the biker who stopped "journalist" Robert Novak from leaving the scene of his hit and run. After Novak caught the cancer, they didn't feel like making fun of him. Go figure.

Here I am outside the studio.

Earlier, we met Paul at PS1 for some disco and James Turrell light exhibit action. He's the guy who bought that crater 38 years ago and has been working on it ever since.

Not everyone liked the exhibit, which was a hole cut in the ceiling.

There were lots of other hipsters, many sporting these Roman sandals. Go Trojans!

April wants me to mention that girls without bras and mannequins with nipples are running rampant here. I have no pictures of that, but I have one of this guy, who forgot his pants.

We also went to the best burger place in town, Burger Joint. Bizarrely enough, this tiny grill is housed in the belly of a super-fancy hotel, denoted by a little glowing burger sign. If you don't order correctly, you get sent to the end of the line.

Look, the white trash aesthetic is out of control.

This place was in Chelsea, so I figured it was an art gallery, but no it was one of those clothing stores where they have three things on a table, each costing more than a small car. Great door though.

There are lots of multiple-use spaces here. Went to see Cause Co-motion at the Cakeshop, which has a bakery and a record store upstairs and a venue downstairs. And then I picked up a CD by a fantastic local band, My Teenage Stride (see their cute videos here and here), at Sound Fix, a Brooklyn record store attached to a bar. I wonder how many people do a lot of drunk purchasing instead of dialing. Smart business move.

I will leave you with a pic of April and I at PS1. I can't figure out how to turn it rightside up on this computer. Trust me, it's cute.

Hot and Crusty

You know what's big in New York right now? Terrycloth shorts attached to a skimpy top, making for some kind of shorts-dress thing. They're everywhere! I tried to get you a picture of them but all I scored was this one.


These are all from the Santogold/Diplo free show on Sunday. Believe you me, it was people-watching heaven. I tried to take a bunch of pics all surreptitiously, so that's why they're a little off-framed. Especially these of the couple who butted ahead in the 45-minute line right behind us. I was so pissed. They just walked up and asked some woman an innocent question, then just stayed there. Stupid hipster bitches.



Anyway, here we are inside the Central Park Summerstage, watching Santogold and her Solid Gold Dancers perform their robotic moves in striped jeans (it was 92 degrees out).


I'm not sure if these folks were a couple, but I loved her mask. She was also pushing a stroller, which made me want to run up and see how she'd dressed the baby.


If you know me, you know I love funny signs. The only thing in this store window was a fancy old chair and a fancy weird floor lamp.


Here's our pal Sammich's shop. Who knew he was a professional tailor?


My dad's friend Jim swears by this deli, but I wasn't in the mood for sturgeon (ever).


Now doesn't this restaurant sound good?


Posters for the Pineapple Express are everywhere. Also, the Brooklyn Art Museum is feting the director, David Gordon Green, by showing his past films and the movies that inspired him. Like Turner & Hooch. I kid you not.


We will finish with a shot of April. You will notice that she's not facing forward. I told her I wanted to take a picture of her during the first time she ever got mad at me.

"The first time?" she said.

Summer Vacation

Tomorrow, April and I leave for New York City. (Insert Pace Picante Sauce inflection here.) If you want to know what I'll be doing, I'll hopefully be hanging out here, showing off my awesome physique like this guy:


Good times, for sure. Maybe even some blogging, since I'll be gone almost a month. But no Grumpy Guy, since I won't have a scanner. Goodbye Grumpy Guy, it was nice to know you. Have a nice vacation, and maybe bring us back some Grumpy Tales.

Rock of Ages

In memorial of the recent Feelies reunion, I give you my Top 10 favorite live shows:

*Feelies at the Warfield w/ fIREHOSE and American Music Club, 1991. I had no idea who AMC was and I kept wondering who had let Bob Seger into the building.

*Crash Worship at the Trocadero, 1995? Came home with a strange rash on my elbows from all the red wine, sweat, and condensed milk.

*Broadcast at the Bottom, 1999? All the lights off, keyboard intensity.

*Young Fresh Fellows at the Bottom, 1998. I was high, so I'm still not sure if they were the greatest band ever that night. Drummer had a giant gong.

*Terrastock SF at Custer Studios, 1998. Um, standing next to the singer for Bardo Pond while tripping balls and watching the Spaceheads has to be one of the most profound moments I've had.

*Belle & Sebastian at the Warfield, 2001. Like an orgasm after 4 years of foreplay.

*Neutral Milk Hotel at the Kilowatt, 1996? There were 50 people, maybe, and 10 were on stage.

*Extra Action Marching Band at a warehouse when they zapped a turkey
w/ a Vandergraaf Generator, Thanksgiving 2002?

*The Aislers Set at Purple Onion, 1999? Like being in the Cavern Club in Hamburg in 1961, or so it seemed at the time.

*Thunderbleed (aka Blind Vengeance) at the Vulcan Warehouse, 1999? Back when they had some guy who could sing.

Yes, I have a hard time remembering dates.

Bad Isn't the New Good

I have been watching a lot of bad movies lately, and since I'd hate for you to make the same mistakes I have, I thought I'd tell you about them. Warnings are good. Critics who lead you astray are bad.

Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay. I passed up Iron Man for this. Seriously. I really didn't want to see Iron Man. And this wasn't so bad, although maybe it was the Vicodin that made it work. But really, I liked it better than…

Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. Which I saw second. I guess I laughed a couple times, but overall pretty damn dumb. Not as dumb as Dude Where's My Car?, but dumb enough to make me give up my attempt to appreciate Unapologetically Dumb Films. Also, it plays like one big product placement, which fostered a bad taste in my mouth that the characters couldn't overcome.

The Foot Fist Way. Not even good as a Parkway movie. So slapdash and unfunny that it seems like it was written on a napkin and then they lost half the napkin right before shooting.

Cassandra's Dream. I liked the last couple of Woody Allen movies okay, but this was a stinker. Just repetitive and dull, with Ewan McGregor and Tom Wilkinson wasted. Plus, not a wiff of Scarlett Johansson.

Gone Baby Gone. Based on a Dennis Lehane novel and featuring two members of the Wire cast (including Omar!) and about Massachusetts corruption. How can you go wrong? Easy! Maybe there's just been too many films like this already or maybe Ben Affleck butchered the novel or maybe the Wire is just so much better than anything else that this seemed simplistic and obvious. Also, an Oscar for Amy Ryan? Was it a bad year for costume dramas?

I know I'm Not Alone. Michael Franti wanders around the Middle East with a guitar, talking to normal folks who tell us that war sucks. Well, duh.

All that said, I recommend Teeth, the vagina dentata coming of age film, and Wall-E, the sweet love story wrapped up in the apocalyptic cartoon story. Talk about opposite sides of the spectrum.

Also, here's a video of Jacques Dutronc and Jane Birkin to get you ready for Bardot a Go Go this Friday.