Saturday, June 21, 2003 at 20:43:30 (EDT)

You can't take away my bein' free
I went to Kinko's to make copies to make flyers for our next party (housewarming for M who moved in this morning), and this guy next to me at the worktable appeared to be assembling a comic book. I caught the name and looked it up. The author appears to be a professional, but I couldn't believe that you can buy comics that literally were printed and assembled in Kinko's. It's even surprising to see that in zines these days. I guess if he can afford to do it that way, it's pretty cool. I dunno, maybe he was just there to use the paper cutter. But he was still doing it himself (I assume he was the author cuz the main character looks like him). That somehow gives me hope. I might even buy a copy.

Now the rain has subsided and with any luck, will stay that way for a few hours. I'm annoyed to check the forecast and see that as soon as this rain is done, we'll be hitting 90 degree weather for the rest of the week. Also thunderstorms are expected on Saturday, which is when I wanna have this party. But knowing the weather we'll probably have flaming hail falling on us by then.

Trying to decide how to dress for a party full of strangers. I think 'low key' should be the operative phrase here. I'll save the leisure suit for when I know these people better, when they can truly appreciate the deep and meaningful gestures of ironic commentary that have defined my award-winning personality for the past three decades. Yeah. I think I'll wear a dark shirt, and forgo the loud purple pants that my friends always give me shit about. Someday I'll live in a world enlightened enough to see that a $6 pair of pants always looks good, as long as you keep in mind how cheap they were.

P.S. Word on the street is that Oakley Hall will not be able to play at Pianos next Friday, due to the lead singer's horrifying injury ... but Oneida is taking their place. So I'll finally get to see them. And yes, I'll brave the throngs of annoying elbow-in-your-face scenesters at the bar to do it.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Friday, June 20, 2003 at 10:26:22 (EDT)

More news at 11
Okay, so they set the rent-stabilization guidelines, 4.5 percent increase on one-year leases and 7.5 on two-year leases. So it's up from the 4%/6% from previous years. Apparently some landlords' representative was at the hearings, trying to get them to increase it to like 20%. What an asshole.

It occurs to me that I am not sure if I know anybody in RS apartments. Anybody out there stabilized? Most people I know are un-stabilized, in more ways than one (ha I crack my shit up). People keep talking about doing away with regulation of rents altogether, which I am not totally against, but would be like dropping a bomb on the city. At least at first. Then again, if they wait it out, eventually every single RS apartment's rent will increase to $2000, which deactivates the regulation and turns the apartment into "market rate." My question is when those apartments hit $2000 and are liberated from the rent laws, does a landlord ever rent them for less than 2K? Sure they do? Landlords love grabbing less money!

Looks like they're making ephedra illegal here, too, just like they did in Ohio and some other states. I can live without it, obviously, but the banning of this herb is so rooted in weakest-link thinking it makes me puke. Some stupid people took too much of the stuff in some asinine logic that it would help them lose weight and dropped dead. It's a shame, but you don't mess around with stuff like that without doing a little research.

Oh, and add to the list of notable Ohioans this Columbus guy who conspired to destroy the Brooklyn Bridge. He ranks up there with that Lancaster guy who ordered anthrax through the mail.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Friday, June 20, 2003 at 00:33:58 (EDT)

I couldn't take another day
My ex-roommate is dragging her move out way past the point of decorum. She paid through the 15th, but still left a bunch of crap here. She came by tonight to 'clean up', which involved throwing some stuff away (a new thing for her, I assure you), and promising to drop off a check for the utilities she owes. She picked up a broom, but there is no evidence she actually did anything with it. Looking in her old room, I am stunned (or not so stunned) to find the space has not been cleaned in at least a year, if that. You know what happens when dust is left untended for a year? It becomes Superdust, and it's clinging to every semi-horizontal surface in the room. It's dust so thick you think something is a different color than it actually is. Kinda like that old lady's room in Great Expectations, but without the metaphorical content. It's fine, I'll put up with almost anything to be rid of her finally.

As I look around the house now, I see there is much more stuff here than there should be. I threw out most of my worldly belongings when I moved here. What the hell is all this other crap? Not just the stuff my ex-girlfriend left, or even the stuff the ex-roommate left. I'm talking about stuff left by the Other Former Roommate. He moved out well over a year ago, and since three other people lived here I guess it was hard to discern. But now I realize all this stuff belongs to him. It's very strange to realize this, since he's been gone so long. But from the looks of it, he grabbed a couple of things in a pillowcase and headed for the hills. But it's not so bad, at least I have a full set of pots and pans, and I shall never want for colanders again.

I just read up on the Department of Sanitation's web site that they will take up to six pieces of 'bulk trash' every time they come by for regular garbage. So I'm gonna start with the extra dishes in the basement, and work my way up to the discarded computer, humidifier and Christmas tree. This house is gonna be all half-Jews in a matter of hours, so we don't need any reminders of the Christians who once lived here. I'll still keep my crucifix, if only for sentimental reasons (plus I hear tell the guy who was on it was one of the Chosen People). But the piñata has to go. And the copy of Phantom of the Mall. I simply cannot impress chicks with these things in my house.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Thursday, June 19, 2003 at 13:06:02 (EDT)

I am a tree
This picture isn't great but it's part of the view out my bedroom window (that's right folks, I have a veritable jungle in my backyard, but no monkeys). Can you see those little white blobs collecting on the roof? Those are mulberries. The horror begins.

Since there's a mulberry tree at the Alibi, I can make a study of them this year. They both started shedding on the same day (all over town people are looking at their shoes and saying "What the hell is this gunk?") The tree at the bar produces dark purple berries. These are theoretically edible, though I don't who would bother at this point. The ones in my yard are not edible by humans, only by big buzzing disease-ridden flies. They will soon come by the dozens to swarm around my head and make me feel like "Pig Pen" from the Charlie Brown comics. I'm going to Pathmark to buy a canopy to put up in the back to deflect the onslaught of berries for the next month. Or I might just set the tree on fire. No jury would dare convict me.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Thursday, June 19, 2003 at 11:38:10 (EDT)

I know a girl who reminds me of Cher
The real world and the blog world are both getting smaller. One night after hanging out with fellow bloggers on Tuesday evening, who should I run into last night (again at the Alibi, surprise!) but the proprietor of Not Too Shabby, the articulate and clever and lovely and hilarious Abby (did I get it all?). I guess it's one of those things that was going to happen sooner or later (like running into my ex without first preparing by writing a song), but it seems especially odd in its proximity to the previous meeting. Maybe it's a sign.

I need to go with the flow in these situations, but I find myself having to resist just talking about all things bloggy when I'm around other people who know a thing or two about it. We were having a mostly satisfying conversation about bar mitzvah bands and speaker art, and that should have been enough. But in the back of my head I was reviewing the list of questions Jami asked me the other day. Why do you blog? What do you get out of it? Are you a glutton for punishment? It's like a virus! But I didn't indulge in that particular corner of my geekdom (sound recording equipment, however, was much wallowed in last night). But still the biggest revelation of the night lay looming:

Kids today under 25 don't remember the Flaming Lips and that hit song of theirs, "She Don't Use Jelly." This was brought up because of the advanced age of me and future roommate M. Zack was able to reach back, way into history (1993!) to pull out this ancient piece of pop history. And the young people of America have forgotten this?! This is why the US is falling behind the rest of the world. "No Child Left Behind," my ass!

Seriously, it was fun. Both Abby and Zack are most charming, especially the way they constantly correct each other. I remember when I used to be able to do that *sniff*. Now I just correct people when I ride the bus ("It's 'I'll kick your honky ass', not 'ya'"). Let's all do more blog get-togethers. I know everybody's schedules are out of sync, so to make it easy for everybody, I'll just have to go to the Alibi every night. Sure, it'll be hard, but I'm williang to sacrifice for a bunch of people i sort of know!

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Thursday, June 19, 2003 at 10:38:24 (EDT)

Name this thing
NPR is doing their pledge drive again, and they seem to have thought of every possible person who might be listening to guilt them into donating money. Today they have decided to go after the telecommuters. I may be paranoid, but they keep casually mentioning people who "work at home" ("if you're in your car ... or working from home, make that call!"). I know it's just a crap shoot on their part, but it was one of the first things I heard when the radio woke me up this morning. It makes me feel like they can see me somehow. I'm still waiting for Soterios Johnson to say, "We need your money, Jimmy Legs. Send it in. Now."

Actually, that's not a bad idea. They should look up the most common names in the city and start working them into their programming day. People would think they were being referred to directly, and out come the checkbooks! Or out come the lawyers. Could that be considered harassment?

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Wednesday, June 18, 2003 at 11:01:11 (EDT)

My Plastic Algonquin Round Table
In an effort to give the Alibi the acclaim it deserves, I keep touting it to people as though it was the greatest bar of all time. But let's face it, it's dirty, drafty in the winter, the draft beer is sketchy, they are often out of Bushmills and Powers, and that damn mulberry tree is starting to drop its sticky berries everywhere. But like many things in my life, I can never stay mad at it for long.

Last night I met up with some other bloggers from the neighborhood (South Williamsburg is pretty much the same as Clinton Hill, right?) there, to converse like humans instead of usual modes of discourse: the monologic blog, and the intermittent email. We discussed ... the breakup. When I gave my side of the story, it was determined that I am a "glutton for punishment," not the least of which was constituted by the amount of abuse I took last night. Ah, but it's all attention, innit? And we talked about other stuff too, but the break up is mine, all mine! We talked a bit about the desire to blog, which may come from a selfish need to preach to the universe. Or maybe it's just a need to give people an opportunity to ignore you on a whole new plane.

If nothing else, this experience proves that not everybody you meet on the Internet is a sociopathic pervert. Unless ... I'm the sociopathic pervert! But I'm probably not. I get used to conversing with people on a blog level, and then it seems a little strange take it up a notch to actual human interaction. Even when I see José or Josh now, it seems a little surreal at first, even though I knew these people before they were bloggers. Ooh, I smell a syndicated TV special: Before They Were Bloggers.

Maybe I should make this a regular thing, Tuesdays with Jimmy @ The Alibi. But next week I should get back to the Naked Angels readings. Which reminds me, Jami gave me her copy of Cintra Wilson's A Massive Swelling, so I'll finally be able to determine if her reading last week was quality work, or if it was just her delivery. But if anybody wants to go to the Alibi any other time, I may be persuaded.


Posted By Jimmy Legs

New lame song about a cat: Freddie
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Tuesday, June 17, 2003 at 10:19:12 (EDT)

Why can't we be Friendsters?
Friendster is probably a good idea, but there's something tense about its language when adding a friend to your list.

Joe Shmoe <> has tried to add you as a friend.
You should approve this request only if you really are friends with Joe.
Is Joe your friend?
[Yes] [No]

I look at this thing and it seems so serious, I have to ask "Is Joe really my friend? Would he pick me up at the airport? Would Joe help me move?" But apparently doing Friendster means never having to ask those questions again. If you hit "Yes" on the approval page, then you must be friends, right? So next time I fly into LaGuardia, I'm gonna just shoot off an email to one of my Friendsters and say "hey, I'm getting in at 2:30. see you at the United terminal."

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Monday, June 16, 2003 at 11:56:52 (EDT)

Lead, gold, tin, iron, platinum, zinc, when I rap you think
My house is empty and I can't find my cat.

My ex-roommate joked about taking her when she moved, but now I have to wonder. This cat is not that big, she could be in the basement, or she might have gotten outside. But if she was kidnapped by that twit, I may have to go on a rampage down Greene Ave.

So I didn't make that Central Park West party. I feel bad, but another party was available that did not require an hour each way on the train, so I went to that. It was cool until I realized at 3 AM I was in the middle of a heated discussion about the merits of "Star Trek: The Next Generation." Exit: Stage Right.

Blackalicious put on a lovely show. It occurs to me now the reason they aren't more popular is probably just because they don't curse much. They're described as "west coast" rap, but it sure ain't gangsta. At some point, Gift of Gab announced they were about to perform "the most ferocious song in the history or music," which caused a lot of muted discussion about what the song could be, whether it would be a cover, whether it was wise for a group to claim its own song as The Most Ferocious Song of All Time, despite the braggadocio often associated with hip hop. Then Gift of Gab leaned forward on the mic, paused ... and sang the "ABC Song." He chose to end it with the communal option, "Next time won't you sing with me." Brilliant. Then they started in on their vocabulary songs: "A to G," "Alphabetic Aerobics," and my fave, "Chemical Calisthenics." We were stuck way on the side cuz everybody digs a cheap show in the neighborhood and had showed up early. We did somehow have the distinction of being some of the last people to leave, I'm not sure why. This, plus an uncooperative 2 train, helped me make the decision not to bother with Manhattan.

Hung out with the Ex (gotta lotta ex's in my life these days) last night at Great Jones Cafe. Nice little joint, but its centerpiece (besides the cool jukebox) is the fact that the bassist from Pavement bartends. I wanted to tell him about the Stephen Malkmus show, but I figured he probably already knew.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

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Week of June 15-21, 2003

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