Right Coast, Part 6

     Turnips, Pac-man theater!  MTV near misses!  IRISH PIRATE BAR!  All this and a little bit more in Right Coast, Part 6!  I wish I'd taken better notes- a drunken scribble would have helped.  More after the jump!




     Tuesday- the show has ended and I am beat.  Any day it wasn't raining in New York it was hot and humid, and by now I've sweat through every article of clothing I have.  To be perfectly blunt with you, I spent much of the next two days simply walking around the East Village and taking in the city.  I know, I should have gone to the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State building or somesuch, but I've made the decision to save that sort of tourist stuff for another time.  The few things that did happen to me worth noting I will place below.

Der Rundegelbenimmersatt- my favorite.

1. Ash and Ian and I were going to see Whalesong, but there was some miscommunications with Space 55's Shawna Franks and we ended up at the theater on Tuesday, when that show was on Thursday.  Instead, we hit up the Theater of the Arcade show.  5 short pieces, about classic arcade games, done as various parodies of famous playwright styles.  How the hell was I not going to see this show?  Being that I had time for about one show the entire time I was in New York, this was the one I was destined to see.  Frogger as a minimalist movement piece contemplating death.  Donkey Kong by way of Tennesee Williams, complete with barrel throwing and suspected infidelity.  Asteroid pilots suffering from deep-space insanity in a high-pressure environment in a profanity laden Mammet style.  Mario and Luigi, high on shrooms, fighting over a shared love.   My favorite piece, entitled Der Rundegelbenimmersatt, depicts a gluttonous capitalist in a German expressionist style oppressing the working class unto near-death as a send up of Pac-Man.  "I'll just follow these delicious fruits into the dark, maze like slums."  When it TotA was good, it was sly and clever.  At worst, it was sometimes pandering, especially the Mario Bros piece, but for non-gamers in the audience it must have felt like a breath of fresh air.  If you get the chance to see this show, do.  It was fantastic.

2.  While en route to Mamouns Falafel with Ian and Ashley, I was accosted by a girl asking if I wanted to "Make some money and be on MTV."  The whole sentence didn't really register, so I agreed wholeheartedly.  She instructed me to head down St. Marks (the direction we were going)  and look for a girl near some camera crews named "China."  As we walked down St. Marks, it the "and be on MTV" part sort of settled in.  If there was any mental fence sitting happening for me, I was instantly tipped onto the "No fucking way" side when we saw grown men shaving their naked torsos in front of cameras.  We ate Falafel and I realized how close I'd come to prostitution.  I indulged in mango juice and the best falafel I've had in a long time.  Why is it so hard to get it right?  I hate your squishy falafel, Phoenix.

I actually licked the plate when nobody was looking.

3. Moroccan dinner at  Cafe Mogador.  That evening, Ash and I met up with the incomparable Shawna Franks at this incredible Moroccan cafe where we ate pickled pepper, marinated beets and generally amazing food.  A side note: beets and turnips get a really bad rap from most eaters.  Personally, I love both these, uhm...tubers?  Roots? As big fancy Americans, we tend to leave these "peasent foods" out of our regular diets, which is really a shame- the Potato Turnip and Saffron Tagines at Mogador would make you understand why Sappho referred to one of her lovers as turnip (Gongýla).  After beers and dinner, I had some Turkish coffee (like sweet awesome mud) and Moroccan tea (green tea with mint and sugar) and generally experience complete bliss in the company of two of my closest friends.  There is something truly wonderful about intimate meals with good companions, isn't there?  A sort of instant holiday.  After dinner we sat for sometime in the dim loud cafe, laughing and talking about things forgotten, drifting close to that mythical place called Ataraxia.  One of my goals in life is to find that uncharted lucid country in myself, and the Mogador let me cross the border for a few hours with my best friends.

It looks exactly like this after an hour.

4.  We wandered the street post Mogador, passing indian places (curry row) and bar after bar until we settled at  Iggy's Keltic Lounge.  After such a peaceful and bright moment at the cafe, it only made perfect sense to me that I go and drink Pabst and Jameson in a pirate themed Irish neighborhood bar.  I'm sure you can see it too.  Iggy's felt familiar, right down to the amazing punk/psychobilly/goth jukebox.  You know somebody loves their jukebox when they burn their own compilation CDs to put in there.  I drank and played Galaga on a tabletop arcade and we laughed into the dark for a couple hours.  It was relaxing, sort a nice capstone to the day, and we all crashed shortly thereafter.  I wouldn't see any of the rest of the ensemble.

You know, at some point during the week, I drank with the talented Bob Fisher and had dinner with Michael Shannon and I just can't figure out where those night fit into the huge picture here.  I know we tried to get into Crif Dog's secret speakeasy and I know I also saw drag queens with beards, but my memories have taken on that subway-train pace.  I look out the window, I see the signs, but the bricks in the tunnel are all a grey blur.  I get the feeling our last New York chapter is going to be less of a Finale and more of a footnote collection.  Thanks for your patience.

I'm a little worried about what to write about once I get chronologically back to Phoenix!

SOON! FINALE!  TURBULENCE AND SMALLER ROOMS!