Saturday May 8, 2010: The High Line

The wind was gusting in New York all day Saturday, enough to nearly pick me up off my feet at times or push me out in front of an oncoming car- despite my typical inclination to avoid that sort of thing.

High winds signal a change in the weather, and those of a literal bent were not frustrated in their devotion to  cause and effect.  We got that weather change- 30- and 40-degree weather ensued to general consternation, to great elbow hugging and shoulder-hunched complaint in the fast lanes of New York leisure.  But I, being of a more metaphysical persuasion, took it as portent of greater changes afoot.  On the last big New York day and night my fiancée and I will take together before our move across country, as we embarked on one of those weekend days only found in a city that is bigger than itself, a day exploring new territory and never-before-discovered neighborhoods, sites, and restaurants, as we inadvertently took the rare cab ride through the sights we will not see together until we again visit this city as a couple, strong winds were blowing.  Many miles were walked, many blue-skied and alien views of the suddenly unfamiliar skyline were revealed to us.  Overlooked and out of the way street corners yielded the rest and repast and unexpected charm that is New York’s reward for the risk taken when you walk through a door on a side street with nothing more than a pasted up  menu to recommend it.  We had one of those Saturdays that made us both appreciate this city way back when we first met it.

From the high-end shopping mall that sprung from the site of industry and absolute human degradation that was the Meat Packing District, we walked the High Line to its current terminus. It can be argued the human degradation stands out today in yet sharper relief on this end of 14th ST where you can't buy a belt for less than $200.

The day ended at the Bowery Ballroom, where, alas, I took no shitty cell phone photos of Caribou astounding me with their ability to play an album live that I had thought had to have been entirely pasted together from loops and sequences in a DAW.  Their rendition of the first single off this year’s Swim was a bit too fast, causing the band to drop notes or lyrics here and there (the only time during the whole show), but overall the band played extremely well.

On the move.

St. George just killin' it.

Big changes afoot here in Igor’s camp.  All the forethought or lack thereof is now in the pudding, as they say, and the next six months are set to run by, changes in tow, at an almost frightening speed.

In the past 12 months these things have happened:

  1. My band wrote a handful of great arrangements.
  2. I applied to 6 PhD programs.
  3. My apartment building had a fire that meant me moving on short notice.
  4. I worked all the time.
  5. I published an article in the inimitable, indispensible culture guide HESO magazine.
  6. I bought a big sapphire.
  7. I got engaged.

In the next six months these things will happen:

  1. I will finish Crazy Talk’s record.
  2. I will quit my job.
  3. I will spend the summer in the task of recovering my Russian from the fog of disuse.
  4. I will get married.
  5. I will move to the West Coast.
  6. I will start my PhD.

Happy Easter.  Spring brings in changes carried light on the wings of a sweet wind, and I leave the arid chrome canyons of the myth of Manhattan behind me.  Out of Mordor, out of Mordor asmile.