Last weekend was a big weekend. Lives changed, old friends returned, milestones celebrated.
Our tale begins Thursday night. Bourbon Samurai and I were seeing a play in the East Village. That meant a pre show drink at good old Grassroots Tavern. The pitcher of Bud light was accompanied by food from a new chicken place next door, a place that fry chickens in olive oil. All the joy of fried chicken, less of the fat! The end result, delicious and less gross than expected.
After checking out the show (which was not quite great, and not really worth discussing much) we wandered north. We had been told that Uber260 was in town for the weekend, and he was seeing a stand up comedy show near by. We called Brownsox, but he was at a political fundraiser at Rudy’s. Now, the idea of a politician who sees Rudy’s as a place to spread his message and raise funds scares the shit out of me, but I am told Rudy’s does this very often, so I guess I know little about our government (or I know too much). We eventually found where the show was, and waited for the show to let out.
Next door to the venue was a bar. It looked like a standard Irish bar, so we went inside for a beer. It was not a standard Irish Bar. It was a NYU hangout, but not where the legal kids go. I would guess the average age was 19 and a half. So young that checking the ladies out made you feel a little dirty, and all the other guys in the bar made you want to kick the shit out of them. The worst was the bouncer, who tried to stop some 18 year old kids from coming in, but eventually gave up after their whining about ‘being in earlier’. It’s gotta suck being a bouncer in the east village.
Shortly, the show got out, and we found Uber260, Groucho, and Kodez inside. We joined them at the reception afterwards for some free red wine. Now I have come to learn that ‘free red wine’ is code for ‘horrible headache’ so I did not partake. After a while, Brownsox joined us. He was talking to Uber260 and Bourbon, and Bourbon gestured in such a way that he knocked over Brownsox glass, spilling the entire contents of the glass over the entirety of Brownsox’s white button-down shirt. The area coverage was amazing and somewhat unprecedented in bar room spills (an area where I hold a doctorate).
After the free booze was done, we went looking for a place that would sell booze. We traveled back down to Revival, but found it so full that people were literally spilling out the front door. We then hit up the next door bar, Shades of Green, which I had also heard good things about. The bar lived up, thanks mostly to its cool Irish bartender, who happened to be the coolest Tottenham fan I had ever met (which is an uncomfortable thing to write). After several rounds, I broke down and started a conversation about politics, mostly because Uber260 is one of the few religious conservatives I know and I wanted to hear what the other half of America has to say for themselves. Sadly, the number of drinks it took to make me harass Uber260 about politics made me unable to speak intelligently on the subject. Not surprisingly, Bourbon and Brownsox took the opportunity to rant about the Right, which they can do with much more passion and information than I can. Around 2am, Bourbon and I realized we had jobs, and bid the rest of the drunkards a fond good night.
After less sleep than normal, I completed the work day and spent the evening at my parents’ place. I opted to say in this night, and went with my father up to Westchester. I did take the opportunity to have my favorite Chinese food (First Wok on the UES, a staple), finally catch Juno (which was good, but overhyped) and caught up on “Mad Men” (see this show. The true Heir of “The Sopranos”. I want to be Don Draper when I grow up). The one night off in a super-weekend.
Saturday was the big day, Jersey and Zoroastrian’s wedding. I woke up around 10 and hung out waiting for the crew to arrive in Westchester. For reasons still lost to me, Uber260 and Brownsox decided to rent a car. A key difference between Uber260 and myself (which makes sense considering our geography) is that Uber260 is uncomfortable being without a car and I am uncomfortable with having to deal with one. The boys did arrive, with Kodez, LaMama, and LadyGunner, around noon. I grabbed Kodez and Uber260, and headed to the beverage barn, a local Beer Depot whose selection is second to none. Stocked up for the end of the night, we met up with Bourbon, and headed to the wedding.
The wedding was in Warren CT, a middle of nowhere town about an hour fifteen away from my place. Basically, Zoroastrian’s dad bought a ton of forest land, cleared it, and built a house, some grounds, and a greenhouse. He has a pimp view of the river as well. Good eye for the land, this one.
The ceremony was really cool, using pieces of Indian ceremony with vows written by the couple and a brief sermon by Friar Teach (seriously, Teach got ordained online and married them. We want him to do this professionally). Teach’s speech was really great, but Jersey’s statement was the real tear jerker of the show. I getting a little misty eyed just thinking about it.
The business concluded we got down to partying. I had agreed to drive home, so I only had a beer or two, and kept things cool. Everyone else drank with sane gusto. Sadly, the couple did not have a wedding party, so no emotional bridesmaids to hit on. In general, not a ton of young people present more of a family affair. We did meet Zoroastrian’s oldest friend, who joined our team of miscreants for most of the wedding. The reception featured a burrito bar, amazing short ribs, and dancing via Jersey’s Ipod connected to the sound system (Jersey has real good taste in music, the occasional ‘elf rock’ non-withstanding). Eventually we rocked the dance floor, and I remembered that dancing sober is a rough thing for a white man. Brownsox made up for my sober white man dance with his crunched Indian jam, so it all evened out. The night wore on, the temperature dropped, and we eventually packed it in.
The wedding was in the afternoon, so by the time we got back it was only 10:30, so we decided to keep drinking. We went through the Coors Lite we had bough earlier, and drained a bottle of Jameson and another bottle of Whiskey. Teach and I especially attacked the Jameson with shot after shot once we got back. The evening started sedate, with all of us drinking and discussing important topics in the kitchen. The conversation did end up with the idea that if society should have capital punishment, executions should be public instead of hidden away. I countered that my commute was hard enough without having to deal with the crowds in Times Square for the five o’clock beheading. We went on like this until the ladies went to bed, then it got messy.
We went down to the game room to get more beer. Uber260 and I played some pool, and Teach got the rest of the guys into a game of Spades. I played pool until I realized I was too drunk to use math. At this point, the emotional weight of the evening began to hit us. I laid a quarter-life crisis rant on Uber260, which he countered with an intense round of the ‘you are so money and you don’t even know it’s. The Spades game fell into the boy’s club sex conversation, which often dipped into hilarity. Around 3am, I hit the wall and called it a night. The rest of the guys did not follow suit until 5:30, and they were all up before me. Rough.
Sunday was a day of rest and relaxation right? Nope. Sunday was Kodez’s birthday. Fate even gave Kodez the gift of the Dolphins kicking the crap out of the Patriots (really a gift for all mandkind). That evening, after we drove back into town and all took naps, we all met up for dinner at Mezzo Mezzo. It may have been the first time that the gang made it to Mezzo, and we only needed one bottle of wine. After dinner, instead of the usual bar partying enjoyed on a birthday, we all retired to my place to watch the Academy Award Winning film* Talladega Nights, The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. A great low-key way to top a high key weekend.
*Best Film Ever Made, beating out Highlander
Friday, September 26, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Thoughts on the Summer '08 Movie Season
I saw a lot of movies this summer. Much more than I ever see, ever. It was sort of a symptom of my new job, where I would have random hours to kill and should not be sitting in a bar. So now that the summer movie season has closed, I thought I would share some thoughts on what I saw. Feel free to disregard as intellectual indulgence, or to agree/insult my intelligence on the comments section.
Film of The Summer: Tie, The Dark Knight and Iron Man
Ya, D.K. was brilliant, took the genre to new places, Heath Ledger is the greatest villain, blah blah blah. Its true, it was amazing and changed was can be accomplished both for comic book movies and summer blockbusters. I still contest that there is no way to separate the worth of the film from the tragedy around it, and so one must accept a level of over-hype, even if the movie was spectacular. I would rather focus on the other great movie of the summer that was not marred in ghoulish promotion.
Iron Man, in its own way, also marked an evolution in the genre. It created a more adult protagonist in its hero, focused more on character than action, and created a new producing power in Marvel Films. Yes it lacked the scope of Dark Knight, but it also had the burden of being the origin story, and played that role in the most interesting and engaging way since, well since another emotionally troubled millionaire donned a wacky suit to make the world a better place. Also, it sets the stage for an interacting universe of these movies, which would have any fanboy stoked.
Granted, I am giving Iron Man some bonus points, because it was not a sequel and did not have the creepy ‘honor the dead’ vibe. In all honestly, it’s an interesting time to be a comic book fan, as the rest of the world just saw the potential you always knew was there.
Comedy of the Summer: Tropic Thunder
It seemed that there was way more comedies than action films this summer. While some sucked, and some underperformed, one rose well above the ranks. Featuring a cool premise and over packed with acting talent, this is both the funniest and most enjoyable comedy of the summer by far. It is true that it could have been sharper on its lampoons, and Stiller tried to give himself the best material to little avail, but that ‘never go full retard’ scene is just damn funny anyway you slice it. Also important is…
Actor of the Summer: Robert Downey Jr.
Sorry Heath, but with a one-two punch, its all Rob’s summer. He found the right amount of glee and pathos to make Tony Stark a great character (It was pitch perfect casting), and he knocked it out of the park with his role in Tropic Thunder stealing every scene he was in with a role that could have been both offensive and annoying in a lesser actor’s hands. He has been doing great work for years, never phoning in a role no matter the situation, and he has hit his stride in ’08.
Letdown of the Summer: Step Brothers
Either you love Anchorman and hate Talladega Nights or vise versa (which is the correct way), most people enjoy Ferrell and McKay. Sadly, their latest outing was less a movie and more a series of skits with Ferrell and Reilly acting like morons. The secret to these films seems to be to surround Ferrell with people far more talented than him (Sacha Baron Cohen, Steve Carrell, etc.) so when Ferrell falls flat, there is always someone to pick it up. This film lacked those players, so a lot of Ferrell’s and Reilly’s stuff just fizzled in this weak plotted work.
Best Movie I didn’t see: Wall E
I am getting to a point where there is no need to see Pixar movies anymore. I just assume they are wonderful and save myself the emotional journey. It is far more efficient.
Best ‘trying to save a mediocre movie’ performance: Tim Roth in The Incredible Hulk
While a vast improvement from the original in many ways, this film was not that great. Incredible Hulk’s secret weapon was Roth’s performance as a special ops agent juicing on low grade super soldier serum. There is one scene where he literally (as Hubris and I hoped Sam Eliot would some day do) tries to hunt the Hulk with a bowie knife. Oddly enough, the original film’s biggest problem was a lack of a good villain, and in this film, that was the one thing they got spot on.
Best Showtime at 2am find: You Don’t Mess with the Zohan
Very dumb movie. No shock there. Yet is Adam Sandler movie is funnier than you would think. It has some inspired casting (John Turturro got paid!) and a couple of hilarious moments. Granted, I would not recommend paying money to see it, but if come across it during some late night channel surfing, a good find.
That’s my take on this summer’s film fare. I may do more of these movie posts if I have something to say, and keep seeing so many movies. Don’t worry, we will soon return you to your regularly scheduled programming (Coming up next week, Q and Teach split a bottle of Jameson and get banned from Jersey City).
Peace.
Film of The Summer: Tie, The Dark Knight and Iron Man
Ya, D.K. was brilliant, took the genre to new places, Heath Ledger is the greatest villain, blah blah blah. Its true, it was amazing and changed was can be accomplished both for comic book movies and summer blockbusters. I still contest that there is no way to separate the worth of the film from the tragedy around it, and so one must accept a level of over-hype, even if the movie was spectacular. I would rather focus on the other great movie of the summer that was not marred in ghoulish promotion.
Iron Man, in its own way, also marked an evolution in the genre. It created a more adult protagonist in its hero, focused more on character than action, and created a new producing power in Marvel Films. Yes it lacked the scope of Dark Knight, but it also had the burden of being the origin story, and played that role in the most interesting and engaging way since, well since another emotionally troubled millionaire donned a wacky suit to make the world a better place. Also, it sets the stage for an interacting universe of these movies, which would have any fanboy stoked.
Granted, I am giving Iron Man some bonus points, because it was not a sequel and did not have the creepy ‘honor the dead’ vibe. In all honestly, it’s an interesting time to be a comic book fan, as the rest of the world just saw the potential you always knew was there.
Comedy of the Summer: Tropic Thunder
It seemed that there was way more comedies than action films this summer. While some sucked, and some underperformed, one rose well above the ranks. Featuring a cool premise and over packed with acting talent, this is both the funniest and most enjoyable comedy of the summer by far. It is true that it could have been sharper on its lampoons, and Stiller tried to give himself the best material to little avail, but that ‘never go full retard’ scene is just damn funny anyway you slice it. Also important is…
Actor of the Summer: Robert Downey Jr.
Sorry Heath, but with a one-two punch, its all Rob’s summer. He found the right amount of glee and pathos to make Tony Stark a great character (It was pitch perfect casting), and he knocked it out of the park with his role in Tropic Thunder stealing every scene he was in with a role that could have been both offensive and annoying in a lesser actor’s hands. He has been doing great work for years, never phoning in a role no matter the situation, and he has hit his stride in ’08.
Letdown of the Summer: Step Brothers
Either you love Anchorman and hate Talladega Nights or vise versa (which is the correct way), most people enjoy Ferrell and McKay. Sadly, their latest outing was less a movie and more a series of skits with Ferrell and Reilly acting like morons. The secret to these films seems to be to surround Ferrell with people far more talented than him (Sacha Baron Cohen, Steve Carrell, etc.) so when Ferrell falls flat, there is always someone to pick it up. This film lacked those players, so a lot of Ferrell’s and Reilly’s stuff just fizzled in this weak plotted work.
Best Movie I didn’t see: Wall E
I am getting to a point where there is no need to see Pixar movies anymore. I just assume they are wonderful and save myself the emotional journey. It is far more efficient.
Best ‘trying to save a mediocre movie’ performance: Tim Roth in The Incredible Hulk
While a vast improvement from the original in many ways, this film was not that great. Incredible Hulk’s secret weapon was Roth’s performance as a special ops agent juicing on low grade super soldier serum. There is one scene where he literally (as Hubris and I hoped Sam Eliot would some day do) tries to hunt the Hulk with a bowie knife. Oddly enough, the original film’s biggest problem was a lack of a good villain, and in this film, that was the one thing they got spot on.
Best Showtime at 2am find: You Don’t Mess with the Zohan
Very dumb movie. No shock there. Yet is Adam Sandler movie is funnier than you would think. It has some inspired casting (John Turturro got paid!) and a couple of hilarious moments. Granted, I would not recommend paying money to see it, but if come across it during some late night channel surfing, a good find.
That’s my take on this summer’s film fare. I may do more of these movie posts if I have something to say, and keep seeing so many movies. Don’t worry, we will soon return you to your regularly scheduled programming (Coming up next week, Q and Teach split a bottle of Jameson and get banned from Jersey City).
Peace.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Cultural exchanges comes to a drunken end.
I have been holding out on you reader(s?)
I hit a drunken minefield from you all summer, one that just recently was cleared.
I did not mention the Sicilian.
This summer, Bourbon Samurai went to New Hampshire to do some plays (more on that later). So he needed a sub letter for his room. The last time he did this, he found a very cool ex-professional golfer from Florida. This time, Bourbon went in a different direction.
The Sicilian hails from where you think he hails. He is a grad student of sorts, a sociologist studying the internet. This means his job is to screw around online. He is actually a very nice guy, and while his English is spotty it is very serviceable. It was his lifestyle and his entourage that was the concern.
The entourage was his brother, Shirtless Fredo, or S.F. who came to New York for a month, and ended up spending the whole month on our couch (The Sicilian springs the news of this visit on me a week into his sublet, the first night I hang out with him). Being his first time in the big city, S.F. wanted to take in the town. Take in the town is still code for get shit-housed every night of the week.
The best way I have found explaining the two was that for two months, I lived with two monkeys addicted to crystal meth. At first, they are cute and friendly. Then they become comical and weird. Then you look around and see that they have laid waste to your home with their antics. But you can never get angry at the monkeys, cause what are they gonna do, they are monkeys who need meth. So Hubris and I just laughed, ceded the living room, and waited for September.
The Saga of the Sicilian came to a close last Thursday. It was the last night he was staying with us, and for all his craziness, he was still a good guy, so Hubris and I wanted to send him off in style. So we pre-party with some Whiskey, a bottle of white wine, and some Coronas. After that ran out, we wandered over to the beer garden. As we walked over we realized that The Sicilian had been drinking before we got home, and that he was ripshit. When we get to the garden, he tells Hubris that he wants a woman tonight. Hubris, who is alittle lit but not drunk at all, decides to wingman him. Three attempts were made.
Attempt 1: A couple of girls sit down next to us. Hubris tries to introduce The Sicilian to the girls. At this point in his drunkenness, The Sicilian is having a hard time with English. Hubris keeps trying to set him up, but The Sicilian can only mutter, raking his ravaged brain for The Queen’s English. The girls flee as soon as they can.
Attempt 2: We get mobile. 4 attractive girls are sitting by themselves nearby. Hubris walks over to them and introduces The Sicilian. The girls’ expressions range from intrigued to annoyed. By now, the Sicilian has hit the hilarious stage of drunkenness, and is basically giggling to himself, speaking in half English. It looks like Hubris and I have brought a crazy man we kidnapped from a homeless shelter out for a beer. After making some attempts to talk to the girls, we admit defeat, and look for someone else.
Attempt 3: We start walking around, trying to find someone else, when The Sicilian stopped and asked a girl for a light. She was attractive, and was sitting with her huskier friend by themselves. Bullseye. We come over and explain our friend, and how it’s his last night in America and so on. The attractive one is into it; the huskier one is going along, as is her curse. All seems well, until a switch gets hit in the Sicilian’s brain. He goes crazy drunk in ways I have never seen. His muttering is louder and stranger. He starts shouting obscenities declaring Hubris “This guy, is the fucking shit guy” over and over. He gets alittle too grabby with the one girl, and then starts making pac-man motions with his hands, loudly yarping as he does it. I was so entranced; I couldn’t even wingman and hit on the fat girl. I also had to occasionally restrain him from groping the other girl, which kept me busy too. Oddly enough, all this pushed the other girl to Hubris, who looked quiet charming next to the lunatic on the other side of her. I eventually declare The Sicilian to drunk to function, so we take him back to our place, where he boots and falls asleep in a chair while Hubris and I drank Hieneken and watched Ghost Rider.
I will miss him, in his own special way.
I hit a drunken minefield from you all summer, one that just recently was cleared.
I did not mention the Sicilian.
This summer, Bourbon Samurai went to New Hampshire to do some plays (more on that later). So he needed a sub letter for his room. The last time he did this, he found a very cool ex-professional golfer from Florida. This time, Bourbon went in a different direction.
The Sicilian hails from where you think he hails. He is a grad student of sorts, a sociologist studying the internet. This means his job is to screw around online. He is actually a very nice guy, and while his English is spotty it is very serviceable. It was his lifestyle and his entourage that was the concern.
The entourage was his brother, Shirtless Fredo, or S.F. who came to New York for a month, and ended up spending the whole month on our couch (The Sicilian springs the news of this visit on me a week into his sublet, the first night I hang out with him). Being his first time in the big city, S.F. wanted to take in the town. Take in the town is still code for get shit-housed every night of the week.
The best way I have found explaining the two was that for two months, I lived with two monkeys addicted to crystal meth. At first, they are cute and friendly. Then they become comical and weird. Then you look around and see that they have laid waste to your home with their antics. But you can never get angry at the monkeys, cause what are they gonna do, they are monkeys who need meth. So Hubris and I just laughed, ceded the living room, and waited for September.
The Saga of the Sicilian came to a close last Thursday. It was the last night he was staying with us, and for all his craziness, he was still a good guy, so Hubris and I wanted to send him off in style. So we pre-party with some Whiskey, a bottle of white wine, and some Coronas. After that ran out, we wandered over to the beer garden. As we walked over we realized that The Sicilian had been drinking before we got home, and that he was ripshit. When we get to the garden, he tells Hubris that he wants a woman tonight. Hubris, who is alittle lit but not drunk at all, decides to wingman him. Three attempts were made.
Attempt 1: A couple of girls sit down next to us. Hubris tries to introduce The Sicilian to the girls. At this point in his drunkenness, The Sicilian is having a hard time with English. Hubris keeps trying to set him up, but The Sicilian can only mutter, raking his ravaged brain for The Queen’s English. The girls flee as soon as they can.
Attempt 2: We get mobile. 4 attractive girls are sitting by themselves nearby. Hubris walks over to them and introduces The Sicilian. The girls’ expressions range from intrigued to annoyed. By now, the Sicilian has hit the hilarious stage of drunkenness, and is basically giggling to himself, speaking in half English. It looks like Hubris and I have brought a crazy man we kidnapped from a homeless shelter out for a beer. After making some attempts to talk to the girls, we admit defeat, and look for someone else.
Attempt 3: We start walking around, trying to find someone else, when The Sicilian stopped and asked a girl for a light. She was attractive, and was sitting with her huskier friend by themselves. Bullseye. We come over and explain our friend, and how it’s his last night in America and so on. The attractive one is into it; the huskier one is going along, as is her curse. All seems well, until a switch gets hit in the Sicilian’s brain. He goes crazy drunk in ways I have never seen. His muttering is louder and stranger. He starts shouting obscenities declaring Hubris “This guy, is the fucking shit guy” over and over. He gets alittle too grabby with the one girl, and then starts making pac-man motions with his hands, loudly yarping as he does it. I was so entranced; I couldn’t even wingman and hit on the fat girl. I also had to occasionally restrain him from groping the other girl, which kept me busy too. Oddly enough, all this pushed the other girl to Hubris, who looked quiet charming next to the lunatic on the other side of her. I eventually declare The Sicilian to drunk to function, so we take him back to our place, where he boots and falls asleep in a chair while Hubris and I drank Hieneken and watched Ghost Rider.
I will miss him, in his own special way.
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