Enjoy Them Old Man. They Will Be Your Last

Ron Wax (Last NYC Show), Don Pedro's, 8/3/09

Two weeks after The Handful left us, Ron Wax bolted for Nebraska. Ain't got no money to pay the bills, you see. As a performer, Ron was one of the strangest, most charismatic acts I have ever seen and he wasn't seen often enough or by enough people. Before he left, we agreed to trade an envelope full of my prints for a silkscreen he had done and a poster he made for his show with The Hydes at Don Pedro's.

Ron had no phone at home and no cellular so he called me from a pay phone* and told me he had nothing to do and asked if we could make the handoff. He came to my house to deliver the things and he commented on a few of my vanity prints I have hanging on my wall -- He had been to Santa Barbara with Mercy Rule and cut a rattle off a dead rattlesnake he found in Mission Canyon. He told me about the time Mercy Rule supported Sleater-Kinney when they passed through Nebraska in the 90's. We shook hands and he rode off on his bike into the night.

He told me he would be back. I have no reason to doubt this. Ron is a gentleman hobo. He might also be a spirit, or something more complex -- the fifth-state of matter. Say his name three times and he appears.

*Make sure you read that last sentence closely. How many times in the last 20 years have you had a call from a pay phone? Seriously. Ron Wax is advanced.

In Local News...

Just walked down Smith St. and watched the paps stalking our friendly local celebrity. They were trying to be so sly about it too -- standing on the corner with their phones to their ears (pretending to call, surely -- why would they want to give anyone else info on where they were or who they were shooting?). Playacting as if their job was important or high-intensity. When she walked past they would hurry along behind her on the opposite side of the street; it just seemed so unnecessary. Granted, I've seen celebrity hunting in Manhattan many, many times and it seems unnecessary there too but now it was too close to home. There's definitely a bad taste in my mouth.

Overheard in Brooklyn (Two Parts)

An earnest conversation overheard at Bar Tabac,

Girl 1: ...and so like, Sasha was like, going to McCarren Pool last week for a free concert and I was like, why...?

Girl 2: A concert at McCarren Pool?

Girl 1: They do free shows there. It's in Williamsburg.

Girl 3: (earnestly) Have I met her? Is she a hipster or a fashionista?

An earnest conversation overheard at Bar Tabac (II),

Boy: Johnny was always kind of a hipster. He just never had any hipster friends.

The Hat Goes On The Head! It's So Obvious Now!

If I look particularly greasy today it's because there's no hot water and there's no way in shit I'm taking a shower in the cold -- 64-degree weather be damned.

In better, more exciting news, after trolling through Photocare and Calumet for hours looking for a 90-degree bracket to mount my only Chimera onto an umbrella bracket, I finally realized I'm basically looking for a 90-degree pipe fitting with two different gauges of pipe coming out of the ends. Tony's Hardware on Smith St. provided the seven dollar solution to a problem that's been bugging me since Srael gave me the Chimera unit four months ago. Sheesh.

Tie Me To The Mast Of This Ship And Of This Band

Some personal amusements regarding Gridskipper's Worst Bartenders in Brooklyn!

Firstly, this entry regarding the service at Trout/Pacifico/Gravy is on the money, and I still fail to comprehend how those places stay alive, especially considering the food quality, which I've described in the past as "food for people who think they know what good food should be like."

This observation about the general cluelessness of my generation can be lumped in with my Rushmore Corollary, which states that "...the reason Rushmore was/is so popular with the generation of 20-somethings at its time of release is that the generation as a whole feels it was, like, totally Max Fischer in High School."

This is obviously not true. This character trait, perceived or otherwise, also links to the 60 Minutes story about 20-something workers.

Anyway back to Gridskipper. This comment,

BY HIPSTERADE AT 11:39 AM

while boat on smith street also has two of the best bartenders in brooklyn, it also employs the WORST ACTUAL SINGLE BARTENDER in the borough: curly hair, works tuesday, thursday nights--she consistently ignores you, abuses you verbally, sneers as only the grinch can sneer.

By Hipsterade, if that is his/her real name, amuses me terribly. For a number of reasons, only one of which I will share with you now:



Suzie has a smile that can melt steel (not pictured) and is ever-so-charming and pleasant.

I will conclude my Captain Save-A-Bartender rant with the observation that since the insulating bar presence of Vegas closed down the douchebag quotient at Boat has risen at a fantastic rate. More clearly said, anyone who doesn't know the bartenders at Boat by name doesn't live around Smith St., nor do they deserve to be served with a smile.