A gelatinous cube of fury

I just got off of the phone with my friend becca, calling from California. She’s a huge part of my life, and it was lovely to catch up; I spent at least one New Year’s (and one of my very best Thanksgivings, as well) at the old place on East Houston, with the water-trickling statue in the lobby, and the much-used sofa futon for guests. At one point, we discussed how we pretty much seem to have come in at the tail end of the nightlife scene in NYC, with Mother, the Bank, and such; she mentioned how her older friends would always tell her how the real nightlife scene ended around the early 90s, when Limelight more or less imploded. I thought of someone I knew back at the Center, who used to say much the same thing about the days of the Paradise Garage, the Saint, or the Mineshaft; I thought of how the Mineshaft (which had been painted pink, and which stood vacant and rubble-filled for ages) is now a restaurant, as with seemingly every other place I used to haunt in that part of town. (What happened to the tubs, I wonder? Did they try and sell them on eBay, or something?)

We talked about this for a moment, and how there’s probably some old rue nodding his head genially as he tells his great-grandchildren, “Now, what you kids get up to today, that’s all well and good- but for a real party, you should have gone to the old Jitterbug hall at... where was that again? Or am I thinking of the old parties at Gatsby’s place on the island...?” At any rate, so far as my nightlife these days goes, I managed to stop by Piano Bars Uno and Dos on my way home from Sarah’s; got to say hello to roadnotes, and baldanders, which is always lovely; at one point, I received the memorable introduction “This next song is for the ladies... and Fred”; coming home, I found myself singing “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” as I walked up the sidewalk, and rather liking the sound, for a first attempt. A more sedate nightlife than in days gone by, perhaps, but dear to me, all the same.

No clever segue comes to mind, so I simply give you Nate & Matt meet David Lynch (and a cow). Man, I wish I'd been there for this- maybe not quite as much as I wish I'd been there for Terry Gilliam barnstorming the Daily Show audience, but still, quite a lot. David Lynch sounds almost exactly like a photography teacher I had once, too. (Hey, did you know that we have Mel Brooks to thank for Lynch's entire post-Eraserhead career? When Eraserhead was first released, it was not a financial success; Lynch was painting houses for a living, when Brooks stumbled on Eraserhead and more or less said, "That guy's brilliant- get him for The Elephant Man (which Brooksfilm produced)!" (I also love how Brooks referred to Lynch- "Jimmy Stewart from Mars.") Just think- no Mel Brooks, no goblins on Arrakis.)