The month of August came and went in a flash. Hot time, summer in the city – weaving in and out of fun with the French connections. One part of the city came into major play: it’s that mighty body of water just a dozen miles due south of where I live.
It was sunny, dry and hot almost every day of the month. I’m not a beach guy but a stiff breeze has been blowing out of the south near-constantly and I really enjoyed putting my face in it where it feels the best. I’d cover up in sunscreen and breathe in that relatively cool, salty air. It’s lots of free natural air conditioning coming off the ocean – well complimented by four dollar Narragansett tall boys at Rippers. A rotating cast of DJ’s spun great tunes. The fish tacos at the Surf Club would be our first stop and then off to Rippers.
The Q53 bus is the way to go. A straight shot in less than an hour.
I saw a bunch of live music in August with all or part of the Jacques, Seb, Jean and Florence contingent. Kevin Morby and Porches at Union Hall. Caveman and Rivergazer at Brooklyn Flea. Pocket Hercules, Soda Bomb and Rozwell Kid at Shea. Shellshag, Big Eyes and Aye Nako at St. Vitus. LVL UP and Palehound at Gramercy Theatre. It seemed like there was a good show to choose from each night.
I had to work my regular 40 week plus an extra shift mid-month but went all out on the off days to have fun.
There were several moments during the month that are etched in the memory:
-That first night of the French invasion, we were pumped up from the late afternoon Morby gig and wanted to keep it rolling. We stopped by Dave and Shannon’s neighborhood beer garden in Brooklyn to wish each of them a happy 40th birthday. After that, we ended up at Mr. Hotpot in Sunset Park and had an excellent shared meal. Seated around two bubbling bowls of savory broth, we dunked seafood, veggies and meat into the hotpots and fished out the morsels with net-like utensils. The shrimp were so fresh and so alive, some of the frisky ones jumped out of the bowl when we lifted the cover to relegate them to their hot bath. Our server really helped with the introductory hot pot orientation. He allowed us to enjoy the experience at a dawdling pace.
-As I stood outside St. Vitus waiting for Seb to arrive for the Shellshag show, Big Eyes offloaded their gear from a taxicab in front of the venue. The driver’s parting words to the band after collecting the fare were encouraging. “Knock ‘em dead,” he said. Shellshag played early. They were in tremendous form. Jen twirled between snare hits. The bells attached to her boots supplemented the sound. The four-band bill aimed to raise money for a local couple both stricken with cancer.
-The LVL UP show a night later at Gramercy Theatre was my first visit to that venue. The two bands headlining the bill failed to match the proficiency and spirit of LVL UP and Palehound who were the first two acts to play. Nick Corbo, the bass player for LVL UP, wore a RJ Dickey t-shirt. LVL UP has risen to the top of my list of favorite bands going right now. They handled the big stage at Gramercy in confident fashion. Their closing extended jam featured singer/guitar player Dave Benton blowing into an empty plastic water bottle which added a whistling tone to the lush and dramatic finale. Gramercy rarely cards bands I like but it was a cool place to see a show if you could hold your nose at the stiff drink prices. The sound was good. Palehound’s super-talented singer/songwriter/guitarist Ellen Kempner offered an empowering response to a boyfriend/girlfriend conflict she witnessed days earlier while on tour at a show in the southern US. Among several new songs she and Palehound performed, I most enjoyed “Cushioned Caging.”
-The night David Wright made his return to the Mets, me and Jacques were wrapping up a day at the beach. We didn’t have time to make it back to the city in time to find a place to see the Met captain’s first at-bat so we stayed in Rockaway and settled in at Healy’s. We both decided that if Wright hit a home run his first time up off the 133 day layoff, we’d celebrate with a shot. You know what happened. Wright hit a big blast into the second deck at CB Park in Philly. We laughed, high-fived and ordered up a serving of tequila.
-More than a year after if opened, I finally made it down for a visit to the 9-11 Museum. Seb and I went in during the free admission window of opportunity on a Tuesday evening. The undue length of time it took to open this museum is better understood when you witness the incredible breadth and depth to which this still incomprehensible moment in American history is presented. It’s very intense and highly informative. It is also surprisingly even-handed in its depiction of that day – and the ones that followed. Knowing the level of conflict and debate over what this museum should ultimately become, I expected it to tilt a bit philosophically and politically the way of those who were most vocal about what that 9-11 meant to America. It doesn’t do that. It doesn’t tilt. It’s straight up. It’s extremely well done. Volunteers positioned throughout the massive space are there to interact – and they do. I was there for nearly three hours before the 8 PM closing time brought an end to the visit. I want to go back for sure.
All of August’s fun for me played out against the backdrop of feeling a bit squeezed by what’s happening in my neighborhood and many city enclaves as rising rents are forcing people and businesses to leave. More than ever, I’ve become acutely aware of the changes in the form of plain-to-see incursions by people willing to pay way, way more to live in a place that had until recently been a reasonable shake for the hourly worker. I was somewhat relieved to learn that the latest annual rent increase here at my studio apartment wasn’t what I feared it might be but it keeps going up.
I signed up for another year and try not to think too much right now about where it’s all headed. I can say with certainty that it’ll take some fight – and some adaptability – to remain in this wonderful, action-packed city. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. With that notion driving all considerations, I’d expect some tumult on the living front before too much more time goes by – but life is good. Life in New York City is the best. All the running around in the last month with visitors who appreciate its uniqueness further cemented my love for this place.
Go Mets.
