Gallavants in New York City.

Gallavants in New York City.

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Hello Reno! I miss everything about you! Even though there don’t seem to be many narrative blog posts here, I figure I’ll just give it a shot since Van and Britt gave all of us permission to write about pretty much whatever.

What I learned about New York City in the two months I’ve lived here:
1. Everyone hates New Jersey. People from New Jersey hate New Jersey.
2. Connecticut actually has an impressive punk scene.
3. Animal tails associated to raver/burner fashion on the west coast is a gang symbol for kids that like to watch anime and fist fight. I’m guessing it’s because of all that repressed sexual energy.
4. The internship ads for Vice Magazine Brooklyn typically include the phrases, “Must be willing to work very hard for little glory,” or “I will not tolerate stupid/annoying/unfunny people,” and other statements to that effect.
5. The air in Manhattan ages people faster.
6. Break dancer groups in Central Park make a lot of “White people in the crowd! You got no rhythm!” jokes.
7. Rats are no longer cute.
8. Students at NYU are always better than you.

I went to a wonderful venue in Brooklyn called “The Market Hotel.” I thought I was going to a show in a HOTEL, but it’s actually a two-story warehouse hidden behind a dingy door on the side of a dark street, with its walls covered in graffiti and doodles. It’s small, but can accommodate a good number of people, so the shows seem personal. In the back, there are wooden stair-step bleachers that lead to a couch on a big shelf. At the top of the bleachers, there’s a fist-size hole in the wall that allows you to spy on people entering. A wonderful band from Massachusetts called Prince Rama of Ayodha handed out numerous hand-made percussion instruments to people in the audience and we shaked and grooved along to the tribal sounds. The instruments consisted of cans with beans inside duct taped to sticks, Christmas decorative leaves, bells, and much more. A poor boy next to me was handed a simple branch and he had no idea what to do with it.
A happy band from Brooklyn called Air Waves also played that night. They were delightful, and if for any reason you ever get the bizarre opportunity to see them, you should seize it. More to come…