I feel safe in New York City: Guard Your Grillz, Summer's coming...

In all my years flying in and out of NYC, I can't remember ever getting this kind of view from the plane. Yes, the city at night is a fine view especially for the tourists and transient locals, but seeing nYc in the golden spring sun was a fine reminder of just how fucking epic New York is, especially after a 24 hour layover in the industrial wasteland section of San Antone.






Citi Field is looking pretty fly from above, psyched for the start of the Mets season - though the tkts are getting pret-ty 'spency. Made-off with the Wilpon's money too, it would appear...

Touching Back Down in Old New York...

Back from a spell in the Sierra Madres and some time in the Mountains of Colorado, I am rejuvenated. Touching down into Manhattan i am strangely invigorated by the signs of New York fast becoming the city i once loved - the city of recession and angst i once knew and always missed. Just like the rest, NY got High on free-money and eager to build bigger, better and more than the rest, now I see New York City's signs of duress in the form of closed stores, astronomical sales and despondent faces. A new President is a sign of hope (to many), but there is little than be done for the inevitable decline of abundant (illusions) of prosperity in New York - much moreso in some of the lands I have seen in my absence.



New York is about to get a little uglier than some have known it to be in the recent past, a habitat known-well by my merry band of miscreant friends and native associates. Guard your grill, stay sharp and don't bat an eye. Or, you could just hightail it back to the suburbs, which I would recommend to the out-a-town crowd...


I am back in NEW YORK, about to get into the muck and grind it out with the rest of 'em. Let's weed-out the weaklings, so that those who fly-high shall prosper and shine...

Re-Run the Dinkins Era, for serious...

New York is Dead? Nope. We're Still Breathing (Bated) City Smog...

I literally saw a medium-sized Christmas tree rolling through the somewhat empty streets of the sunny Upper East Side, I was reminded of depression-era "dust-bowl" photographs (and the last recession which hit my family hard in the early nineties). Then I thought about what could be drawn from those downtrodden ordeals - more from hindsight than any sort of experiential knowledge - I was around 11 at that time. The Early Nineties; the US was at some war in Iraq, the nation was preaching the gospel of recession, and just remember watching most of the people around me struggling. Luckily, the radio was kicking out the jams (all that angst had to go somewhere).

But I digress, as the point is not some saddo-whiny blogerhia, more a brief thought on financial crisises. The last one hurt me directly, and many close to me much harder. We are now all stronger, and far more interesting for it. As some asshole poet once said, "some shit about there's beauty in suffering or somthing." This world we revolve in is highly cyclical. Did you really think something can grow so fast, without some kind of reactionary fall - or collapse?

Guard your grills, stop spending that "free-money," and grind it out like the rest of 'em. I will try to do the same - but I'm not stressing. Lessons were gravely learned from '92...

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Tor Hamer: Gentleman, Scholar & NY's King of the Ring...

Recently I was at a Holiday party and found myself indulging in a little name-gaming, which can be very hard to avoid (especially this time of year). Next thing i know, this kid asks me, "so, do you know Tor?" Granted, many people in the city know Tor, if not personally for the sheer fact that he's a beast of a man, and his name is impossible to forget. I mean, his government IS really, TOR HAMER (i went to school with him, and have known him long enough to know that his name is NOT a stunt, more an omen). Anyhow, if Tor was not born to be a boxing titan, i just don't know who would be. Not only can he throw down in the streets (and definitely in the ring), but as far as I've seen he's completely fearless.

That said, this guy Chris sent me some photos of Tor's last fight, and i just felt compelled to show at least one of them. New York might be on the brink of having it's own boxing heavyweight! Look how Tor lays the HAMER down on this clown...

I'm not sure who took these photos, but they are pretty dope. Next fight, I'm going to take my own photos, because i really want to see Tor pummel the next guy in person (sorry but I do!). Also find Tor in the recent Village Voice, i guess people are finally starting to realize that this kid is the truth!

NO Photos at the Photography Show? Please...

So i went to the William Eggleston retrospective at The Whitney last week and was shocked when some asshole security guard told me that i was not allowed to take pictures at an exhibit by a man who became known for taking pictures of everything - everywhere. I had also chatted-up some pr chick beforehand (who said nothing of this), gotten a comped entry and have been taking photographs (sans flash, obvi) in New York museums since the Giuliani regime. I mean, if Eggs was deceased, he'd be rolling in his grave - okay, maybe not for my petty infraction on museum justice, but you get the idea. The show is called Democratic Camera, but it felt a little more Stalin-esque in it's environs.

In all seriousness, whether or not you're a self-proclaimed art fag, a dilettante, a charlatan, or a connoisoir (ugh, the worst), this is one of the best photography shows i have seen at a major museum in years - and i basically see them all (guess im all of the above). But, enough about my of my own character deficiencies, and back to art-snobbery...William Eggleston was one of the first photographers i could ever sink my teeth into as a kid, he takes pictures of anything that interests him (literally anything) from a light bulb on a gritty red ceiling, to a disoriented old woman in the warm summer sun. He is considered to be one of the godfathers of color photography, and helped propel it from the doldrums of magazine print and hobby photographers, to the cutting-edge of contemporary art.

This show is a great testament to the half-decade Eggleston has been taking pictures (as an artist), and basically be seen pro-bono on PAY-WHAT-YOU-WANT FRIDAYS....if you're credit's crunched.

Now that i have sufficiently flexed my pretension, aired my grievances, and displayed an ability to memorize art history, i will tell you simply - go to the whitney and see the eggleston show, before it closes in January.

Why not check it out if you're craving some (high) art (aren't we all? Not-so-much), bored - or spending inordinate amounts of time receding into your couch, waiting for take-out.

get cultured - stay fly