By now, many of you have heard about my latest and far too brief adventure in New York City… but in case you hadn’t, here’s how the trip came about.
With my birthday looming, my mother, whose love for me knows no bounds, decided to do something special.
I had mentioned to her in passing that one of my favorite bands, People Under The Stairs, was playing in the city on one of my nights off and that it would be cool to fly up there and check out their show. PUTS is not a very well-known hip-hop act despite their lengthy and fantastic fucking discography that’s clearly worth traveling 1200 miles for. They combine energetic emceeing with old school beats to create what is in my mind the best hip-hop out there. If you’re into funk music, it doesn’t get much better.
Knowing it generally takes an act of Congress to get me off my sofa on my days off, Mom decided to buy me two early birthday presents: a plane ticket to the city and a concert ticket to see the band play there. This is what she does. Who was I to say no?
I decided to document the trip not in long run-on sentences as I usually do but in selfies because, well, I’m hip and that’s what all the kids are doing these days.
The rules were as follows: 1) I had to be the one taking the photo. 2) I, or at least some part of me, had to be somewhere in the photo. 3) There would be no selfie sticks. Not only am I not sixteen but I didn’t want some random pickpocket mistaking this native New Yorker for a tourist while running off to sell my cell phone to the highest bidder. No, I was better than that.
So come with me, won’t you on my selfie-righteous tour of the Big Apple.
Meet my flight coordinator, Pepe. Pepe was very friendly (for six in the morning) and was happy to see me off. He wished me a safe flight.
Who remembers the days when you didn’t have to strip naked before boarding an airplane? Good thing I wore matching socks #cavitysearchoptional
Playing Scrabble with my nemeses, the Akerleys, while waiting to board the plane. How do you spell excited… and sleep-deprived?
It’s seven in the damn morning and I haven’t slept yet. Where the hell is the beverage cart? Side note: Wouldn’t flying be so much more enjoyable if passengers could check crying babies with the rest of the luggage below?
The eagle has landed
106th and Broadway aka the old neighborhood
Iron Man hops the subway at 103rd
Shopping to find Lionel Messi shirts already on the sales racks. He had just lost to Chile and announced his retirement from international play one day prior #Quitter. On a side note, in two days of searching the city, I found not a single Derrick Rose Knicks jersey. Someone should probably call their marketing department.
First beer of the trip. Knicks fans should be used to drowning their sorrows.
Who, other than perhaps Jim Bakker, names their band Holy Fuck? And no, this was not the band I flew here to see.
This was. People Under The Stairs at the Highline Ballroom.
At the Brass Monkey, the funky monkey
A trip to the Whitney
Admiring Stuart Davis
Mama said knock you out. So Jack Dempsey did just that.
Empire State Of Mind
If you can read this, you’re probably offended.
Raise your hands up
A cab ride
to Little Italy
to see Todd
Deli counter the following morning for Reuben, latka and tradition
Next stop: Washington Square
to see George Washington
More art, this time outside a museum
… and more art…
…and more art…
… and even more art.
The New World Trade Center
and paying my respect
at the memorial
with a pint
No sleep til…
subway ride past Christopher Street
Picked up a used copy of Chuck Palahniuk’s “Snuff” for seven bucks from a street vendor near NYU. It’s a book about a gangbang. I’m not sure there’s too much dirtier than the feeling you get reading it on a NYC subway while young children are staring at you wondering what you’re reading.
On my way to the PUTS show
Kicking it Olde School
Postgaming with Thes One from People Under The Stairs
So many options
Should I go with Portrait of the Artist or Ulysses on this one?
Still in a New York State of mind, one final stroll
I love you, my hometown. Until we meet again.
And lastly, some selfie-less photos from the trip that I just felt needed to be included. Thanks for coming along for the ride and thanks, mom, for funding the project. XOXO