That's right, I'm all about Analog. When it comes to class, there's not much digital can do to compete with the tradition, history and foundation that analog devices carved out for us in almost every area of life such as watches, film, vinyl, and I'll just go ahead and throw this one in there because I invented it. That's right, I have invented the first Analog GPS system that gives me all pertinent information to operate in any given area of the world. Specifically, I just took a trip to New York City and surrounding areas (more about that later). While walking the city streets and taking trains to and fro, I relied upon my Analog to get me where I needed to go and to tell me where I was without seeming too much like your average tourist. I suppose the best way to describe it might be like taking the average or the split difference between an I-Phone and a giant map of the city, although, everyone who used my analog in NYC (and there were many) would stop short of calling it anything, but average. Smaller than a giant obnoxious map that says, "hey, I'm not from here," and blinds you to the fast pace that's vitally required to be on the move at all times. Quicker and more accurate loading time than an IPhone, the analog combines the best of both worlds. It took me exactly one hour to build and was worth it's weight in gold, oil, or milk, while walking the streets of New York, not to mention, the black, vinyl exterior proved to be very fashionable as well. Couture for sure.
New York was amazing!!
It occurred to me en route to JFK airport that I hadn't actually been to the city since before 9/11 and not only that, but not since I turned 21. I had been with family around that area tons of times when I was a kid, but obviously it takes on a whole new meaning when you go circa 30 years old as a full fledged adult. My flight arrived just before 4pm four Thursdays ago and right before my train from the airport went underground to head towards the city, I saw a dark, ominous rain cloud. When I emerged from the station, it was pouring rain. I had dropped my umbrella and jacket on the floor of my house here in Austin right before the cab took me to the airport, thinking it would all be too much to carry. So there I was kicking myself, under an awning of some drug store on Houston & 2nd Avenue, holding my bag (which had broken), trying not to get wet with the other poor bastards who hadn't planned on rain. There was literally no more room and as I stood there, for the most part dry, watching people running without umbrellas to get home, a young girl grabbed my arm in shock right as a giant bolt of lightning struck about 200 yards away. "Did you see that," she said. My right bicep tightening, I calmly replied, "yeah, that was pretty cool." Really, I had just shit myself. I couldn't believe that I was in the middle of this crazy electric storm at one of the busiest intersections in NYC during rush hour no less (massive honking). I did the only thing I felt comfortable doing, I started talking. Before I knew it, 45 minutes had past, the rain was just about to let up and this girl, Katy, who I had just had the most lovely Manhattan moment with, was asking me what direction I was going in. After consulting my Analog during the hell storm, I knew what direction I was going in, and as it turned out, Katy was going that way too. She was on her way to her "ghetto" gym as she called it. I asked her why and she said it's because how cheap it is. I thought it looked lovely from the outside once we arrived and noted the people running on treadmills inside. We parted ways and exchanged phone numbers as it turned out she lived right down the street from where I would be staying. Already my Vay-K was an adventure with romance. Amazing.
The air was cool later that night as my Uncle Joe Velez (Que pasa Puerto Rico!), who works in the city for Con Edison took me, his wife Cathy, and his very grown-up daughter, my cousin, Kayla, to dinner at some nice Italian joint. I say nice, because the food was good and it was very small and quaint to exist in such a big city. I thought how cool it was to be out on the sidewalk one moment and then isolated from the outside in what would seem like any normal restaurant. No windows and the only doors are at the front and back. My Uncle Joe took us down the FDR South to see the waterfalls.
I was developing a headache from all the motion (planes, trains, and automobiles) all day and Kayla and my Uncle rolled the windows down to smoke. Being "off cigarettes" was also changing me after all this time as well. I had an adverse reaction to smelling their cigs that potentially worsened my headache, but I just rolled my window down, admired the view as the Brooklyn Bridge came up on the left side of the car and the cool air blew over my face. Absolutely beautiful. I got dropped off back at the place I was staying on East 7th Street, said goodbye and headed up to my buddies who were waiting with beers and party faces. I on the other hand, could only think about a nice, long, bath. Something my 6'2" frame has denied me for years now. 
And so I took 45 minutes, turned the lights off, lit some candles and got in a giant, bathtub, filled with hot water and placed a cold compress upon my face. All I could hear were the sounds from the city. It was calming, soothing even, and by the time I had dried off, I was 100% again and happy. There was always an undercurrent of excitement and happiness that never went away, the whole time I was there, ...it was always there, like a drug, and when I got back, I missed it, wanted more of it. I'm not sure a city has ever had that affect on me. Of course it may have had something to do with the beautiful apartment I was staying in and the view from the roof.
Anywho, I won't bore you with the intimate details of my trip, instead I invite you to live vicariously through my memories. I lost twelve pounds walking around the city in my Chuck Taylors, which, on the final day were no longer conducive with the well being of my dawgs. I could also feel the bones on my left ankle starting to rub together with every step. Painful, but more on par with nails on a chalkboard instead of actual, physical pain. I set out to buy new shoes, but believe it or not, no one could send me to a place where I saw anything I liked. Day two was spent in Battery Park, going to a installation by David Byrne called "Playing the Building,"
and taking the Staten Island Ferry which was magical. Right before they let the large group of us onto the ferry, we were held in this foyer where a musician with a cello started playing the bass line to "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," from the beginning. The lyrics are, "Picture yourself in a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and marmalade skies..." Then the doors opened, we were hit by the breeze off the water, and everyone started walking. It was by very definition, a perfect moment. It was magical and I thought, in that moment, that memory would forever be imbedded in my mind, better than any picture could represent. The ferry ride was no let down either. Every second was picturesque as the city faded away with all it's bustling and noise which cross-faded nicely with the sound of the water and the 5pm view of the Statue of Liberty.
I thought it unfair that I was stuck with some shit eating permagrin, but when I noticed the same on the face of Jason, Jeff, Adam and David, I knew I was not alone and my happiness was re-enforced with the notion that I was sharing those moments with my friends.
Later on that night Adam and I went on to Brooklyn to meet up with our good friends and Brooklyn residents Lee Eddy and Liz Wakehouse-Werzner. Jeff and David were coming late for some reason. Oh yeah. Adam seriously doubted my ability to lead and navigate us to the Radegast Hall and Biergarten in Williamsburg. He doubted the Analog's supreme capabilities, like most upon first glance, but then he realized that not only was the Analog one of the most amazing inventions he had seen in some time, but more importantly, I had my shit together. Bottom line peeps, navigating is about to become one of the lost arts of the human race with the advent of GPS and Google Earth. There is something romantic, nostalgic about sailors who stared into the stars for direction, and for me, navigating has always come second nature. Trying to convince others of my ability is the hard part. Adam didn't have a choice, so I won out by default and he certainly wasn't down for the challenge. We arrived at the hall and it was big, dark, smelled of freshly cooked brautwurst, and they played nothing but hardcore gypsy music, (Gogol Bordello included). I drank my liter beer (Blanche De Bruxelles) and chatted with Lee and Liz who seemed to have only become more beautiful and cosmopolitan. I made sure to let them know. Jeff showed up and then we started barhopping around Brooklyn.
Five bars in total, all fun, most of the recommended to me and downloaded to my Analog. It was a late night, but the craziness was yet to come. We took a late trip by cab to Bed-Stuy and then back to the East Village. We chatted and then fell asleep in the living room.Saturday was the night of the play Jeff, Jason, Omid, Natalie, and my new friend Jeremy Sexton were working on, entitled, "Sad, sad, sad." I got out of the apartment as early as I could to do some shopping. David Higgns was down, so we met in Chinatown near the Walkerspace, which is the name of the theatre. Things kind of got out of hand. David and I walked up and down Broadway in SOHO shopping. I mean, power-shopping. We went to some crazy soap shop where they make your hands feel like they did when you were a baby (bought some of that shit for sure!), and then we went to various clothing stores and spent way too much money. No shoes though. David and I walking with our bags in hand, looking slightly schleppy, although, to be fair, David looked very chic and I was primarily schlep-a-fied. We watched the play, which was sad, went to a Tavern in Tribeca, which was rad, and watched Michael Phelps win his 8th and final gold medal, which was mad. Before his swim, there were maybe twenty people in my general proximity, but when Phelps was swimming, that number jumped to fifty. People were on their chairs, everyone was chanting "USA," and Jeffery was yelling "swim," which I thought was appropriate.
Here's Jeffery now expounding on fluid dynamics and the Phelpsian nature of swimming
That would not have happened in Austin. Omid doesn't drink beer, so him and I were going back and forth, buying shots of tequila, getting everyone drunk, including ourselves. We went back up town afterwards and wound up at some lounge on East 11th between 1st ave. and Avenue A. That's when I realized how pricey everything was. I had just opened a tab at the other place and let it ride, but when I called for five shots and a beer and she shouts back, "That'll be 65," I was like, "What!?" Yeah, that was the last round I bought, but they DID give us tickets to go get some free pizza in the back. We went back to the pad around 3am and went up to the roof which has an exceptional view to say the very least. We hung out up there in a circle and made each other laugh until the sun came up. But to be fair we had help from Chicken Elmo.
Sunday was the first day I realized I would be leaving it all soon and something about that bothered me. I was having way too much fun. Our next stop would be just as huge though. We all headed to Coney Island. Adam, Jeff, and myself got off on the last stop on the Q train and met Lee and her man Macon on the beach.
It was nice being near a huge body of water like that. The boardwalk was bustling with life and music and really intricate smells.
I made sure to indulge in a Nathan's chili dog. I even got one without chili to make sure I wasn't missing out on anything. Word on the street is that they're closing it down soon. Shame. It was all so surreal, even the fact I was desperately searching to purchase a large, Puerto Rican Flag beach towel, but no luck.In the days that followed, I got to go to the MOMA,
I ate lunch in Bryant Park with Brent, LIz, Jeff and Adam and I bought a new bag somewhere near Radio City Music Hall. Central Park was a doozy too, but very pretty, ANd central.I got to see my very good friend Nina and her husband Jason and her unborn child (but not really because it's still inside her) on the upper-west side.
My time with them was short, but I brought them tortillas and Obama paraphernalia, and Jason shared some of the German rum she had just brought back from her trip to Germany. Nina immediately instructed Jason to make breakfast tacos with the tortillas I had brought for dinner and like the amazing person he is, he obliged. It was nice seeing Nina one more time before the baby will be born, but in retrospect, I don't think i appreciated the moment fully and felt like I'd forgotten to say something before I left due to the rush I was in to get all the way to Prospect Park, Brooklyn in time for some Mexican food with the gang. That's the funny thing; I really took for granted how much time it takes to get places on the subway. Even when the trains were running fast, I continually underestimated the time it took to get from one area to the next. It was a good lesson for sure.Anyway, on my last day, I made sure to thank Jeff for making my visit so awesome and had a brief brunch with Natalie and Adam before leaving for the airport. The flight back was quick and Adriene picked me up at the airport, and that was nice.
I can't quite pinpoint what I miss the most about my trip. I did feel a certain giddiness when I came across Jason and Natalie after I had returned to Austin and run into them at a party. They were giddy as well. It was like we all were sharing a secret that was totally bad ass and no one else knew about and it made us feel like those old people in the movie Cocoon after they had been swimming with the pods in the water. We talked about our adventures and the things I missed when I left and Jason left, respectively.
So I'm still not sure what I miss most, I just know I'll need to keep going back and, so, real soon, that is what I'll do. Plus, I've always wanted to see the Christmas tree at Rockafeller Center.
Geez.
