Naked Go-Go Dancers, Confetti and Peace

After weeks of sweltering temperatures, BP oil spill coverage and MTA whining about budget shortfalls, we New Yorkers deserved some kind of break. It came in the form of a cool breeze and some Flaming Lips.

The band played Central Park's Summer Stage bandshell on Monday night. The titillating good time kicked off with projections of naked psychadelic go-go dancers. Now, The Boy will tell you that you can never go wrong with go-go dancers. Naked go-go dancers? Even better.

Did the show include Wayne Coyne in the giant plastic hamster ball? Yes. Confetti? Yes. Furries and Wormies on stage? Yes. Randoms dancing onstage? Yes. (How do they get that gig?)

Was there anything "new" about their show? Not really. They played the traditional crowd pleasers and some new stuff. But how can you be anything but psyched when there is confetti raining down on you? I left with a smile on my face and a commitment to catch their second show at Terminal 5 the next night. My hatred of Terminal 5 as a venue and my inability to root out free tickets led me to welch on that commitment. However, I will always recommend a Flaming Lips show as an antidote to clinical depression. Cheaper than therapy and you might get a contact high.

Check out brooklynvegan.com for pics and video.

Head Over Heels

Well, it finally happened. After more than three years of living in New York, I took a tumble on a busy public street. I was crossing Broadway in Soho and came across the 'black ice.' It wasn't near the curb or helpfully marked by police tape and cones. Oh no. It was just there, lying in wait for the toe of my sleek over the knee boot to strike. Then ass over teakettle I flew, bags flying, arms flailing. Flat. On. My. Back. I was a piece of performance art, my shopping bags artfully arranged around my flaccid form like flower petals.

And oh was there a large audience for my performance! Tourists in leather pants, their tiny guidebooks their talisman. Tightly coifed ladies in mink coats. Gum smackers from New Jersey. Covens of stroller moms. But it was a man with a crutch who helped me up. Yes, it took a handicapped person to alight me from the ground. The irony burned.

I walked away with a sore wrist, a bruised butt, and a major case of embarrassment. But it wasn't as bad as the travails suffered by the West Side Beauty. It's supposed to snow again this week. Let's hope we can both keep our feet on the ground!

Summer Nights

Central Park features prominently in my tales of the city this summer. Indeed, one of the reasons we chose our apartment was its proximity to the park. Hardly a day goes by that I don't visit the park to run or cycle. It is an extension of my home. It is my backyard. 

We celebrated summer in our back yard the other evening with several thousand of our close new york friends, each vying for a square of grass to listen to the New York Philharmonic play.

It was a perfect night, a week or so before the searing heat and humidity arrived. The Boy and I, the Diva D, The Little Nolita Lady and Professor Yang all assembled for our night under the stars. I had planned my menu for weeks - fresh roast beef sandwiches with homemade blue cheese sauce and red peppers on rosemary-olive rolls, and raspberry and blueberry cheesecake bars.  Yum. Of course we also had the requisite bottles of wine. 

The music hummed, providing a moving soundtrack to the comfortable night. It was one of those nights when you felt very alive, and giddy, and glad to be amongst friends. 

The perfect evening was punctuated by fireworks which lit up the night sky above the skyscrapers in the distance. 

As The Boy and I walked home with our blankets and empty bottles, I was happy to be here. Last year at this time, we were still living in New Jersey, and had a long commute ahead after the performance. This night, it was only a few short blocks to home, the best ending to a lovely night.

Texas-Style Weekend

Temperatures soared into the 90s in NYC this weekend, and along with high humidity, brought a profoundly Texas feel to the weekend.

I paid a visit to the Union Square Greenmarket on Saturday morning, while the oven was just pre-heating. Picked up some beautiful beets and lettuces and cheese from nearby farmers which made a delightful salad later that evening. There were vendors with all kinds of herbs and plants for sale, making me wistful for my mom. She loves that stuff and would have enjoyed the morning.

Later in the day, The Boy and I met up with The Little Nolita Lady at the Big Apple Barbecue Festival in Madison Square Park. I wanted a taste of Texas 'Cue, and there were two vendors on hand from the Lone Star State. I wanted to hit The Salt Lick Barbecue from Driftwood, Texas for the beef brisket and beef sausage and slaw.  It had passed the 90 degree mark by then, and to my dismay, the line for The Salt Lick was at least an hour long and snaked around the sweltering pavement of Madison Avenue and 26th street.  2 people fainted while I was in line. With sweat rolling down my back in rivers, fainting seemed like a reasonable plan for fast-tracking the line, and getting a frozen washcloth and some free food. 

Finally, after the long wait, we settled on the grass in the park with wisps of live music drifting our way, and communed with several thousand of our fellow New Yorkers. The Lady Lawhorn will be happy to know that we spotted several proud displays of horns amongst the crowd. It was a day well-lived, and a nice reminder of home. 

It's Official

It's official. I am tired of winter. Of wearing heavy coats and dark colored tights. My hands are desparate to be free of claustorphobic gloves. Spring! Release me!

Snow Day

Snowing out my window.

Fummer

The Little Nolita Lady has coined a new term - Fummer. That's Fall Summer, which is what we've been experiencing the last few weeks due to the warm temperatures and humidity. All the warm dampness in the air is making my face break out. I call it the Fummer Bummer.

Fall into Fall

While everyone at home is fighting hurricanes and 90 degree heat, New York is experiencing the first twinges of Fall. That means light sweaters and a brand new search for winter boots appropriate for walking the city.

For us, it also means visitors. We are expecting Daryl's Mom and stepdad and my Mom next week. It will be great weather for them to experience the city.

As an added bonus, I somehow scored tickets to David Letterman for all of us. Stay tuned on our star turn.

Umbrella Wasteland

The nasty weather pummeling the country resulted in the deaths today of dozens of innocent umbrellas. The umbrellas, already weakened by cheap plastic, were no match for the swirling sustained winds in a vortex between buildings in downtown Manhattan. The umbrellas were huddled together in their last desperate attempts to stay alive, resulting in a macabre scene of death and destruction. The umbrellas are survived by dozens of wet humans.

You talking to me?

It tickles me that "up North" they get just as skittish about a bit of snow as we might have back home. Last week, with word of a big winter storm coming our way, tons of people took Friday off or left early so they wouldn't get stuck in the city. I thought these folks were supposed to be tough. Turns out they're just a bunch of pussies. : )

I'm a lumberjack . . .

The Boy spent the morning shoveling snow. He thinks he's a lumberjack or something. An hour and a half of hard labor, and he's passed out on the couch. But the sidewalk does look nice. And he even cleared a path for the bus riders to stand. He's too cute.

Heat Wave

The temperature was approximately 35 degrees F this morning on the way to work. Someone in the elevator at my office called it "positively balmy." She obviously has not been to Houston in July.

Cold Weather Hazard

When I left Texas, one of the things I was most concerned about was the cold weather. I had no real experience with it or context for how to prepare for it. I worried endlessly about having the right clothing, shoes, accessories, etc. My first purchases after moving to the city were footwear, a new coat, turtlenecks, sweaters, etc. Then I cooked more than a few times in the subway and on the crowded elevator at work after having layered on too much clothing. Sometimes I'd swear I lose one or two pounds of water weight each time I cram my bundled body into the elevator for the 10 minute ride up. Indeed, I probably resemble the haggard little brother on "A Christmas Story" waddling around in his snow suit.

Ironically, the winter in Texas has been much more frightful than the one we've experienced here. In fact, I think Austin got a coating of snow before we did (finally) yesterday and today.

The difference, of course, is that in Texas you bundle up and move quickly from your heated home to your heated car to your heated office. Your time spent outside in the elements is minimal.

Here in New York, with the temperature averaging in the 40s and 50s so far and now beginning to dip into the 20s and 30s, we're wandering around every day in the cold, the damp, the windy, the rainy or the snowy.

So far, though, it hasn't been that bad. Except for one thing: Coldfinger.

Coldfinger occurs when you take one finger out from your mitten (or Thumb - resulting in a similar form of this problem called Numb Thumb) to text message.

So there you are, walking up and down the chilly aves, one finger or thumb akimbo, texting like mad. Eventually, you begin to notice a problem. Your finger is freakin' cold! Numb even!

That's when it's time to put your electronic toys away and stick your mits back in your mittens. No message is worth losing a finger (or thumb). You heard it here first, folks. Beware.

First Snow

The first snow is supposed to appear this week. Yippee! Do you think I'll be as excited about it when the second snow arrives?