In the thirty day span that has made up my June, I have ventured from my comfy, Cosby-esque neighborhood in Brooklyn to head into Manhattan exactly four times. Thus, the live entertainment I have enjoyed this summer has so far fallen under the general umbrella category of “Bands I Wouldn’t Ordinarily See In 2004, But They’re Playing In Brooklyn, So Why The Hell Not?” It’s how I ended up attending a Phish concert for the first time in four years at Keyspan Park. And it’s how I saw Aimee Mann at St. Ann’s Warehouse, even though I’ve seen her twelve times (no, really) in the past couple of years and promised I wouldn’t do it again because, I thought, one could listen to her tell that story about meeting Liam Gallagher only so many times. I was wrong. Turns out, I could listen to it again.
And I’ll be listening to it tonight. Because the only word more appealing than “Brooklyn” is “free.” So upon discovering that she would be playing a free show on the Hudson River as part of the clunkily named “Downtown NYC River to River Festival 2004,” I started packing my worldly goods into a handkerchief I’ll tie off with a stick as I begin the trek northward. It’s free! Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Come on down. Just don’t be that really tall guy who gets there four minutes before the show starts, pushes his way to the front, and stands directly in my sight lines. Be some other guy than that.

The “Monster Walks Free” headline is a little hysterical, probably, but the case is one that I remember dominating headlines for months as a kid — Joel Steinberg, Tawana Brawley, Richard Chambers (already out, I believe, as of last year), and Bernie Goetz — as filtered through the beige voice of Channel 7’s Bill Beutel.
I’m not a betting woman, but I’ll wager that this will not be an uneventful return to civilian life — provided he survives it, which I’m not confident he will. I don’t love that he got out at all, but it’s sort of a satisfying Russian-novel twist that he’s required to live and work in this area.

Just as I resign myself to the fact that there is no more good industrial music, two Godfathers arise from the ashes and play here in NYC pretty much back to back. Skinny Puppy played at Irving Plaza last week and this weekend Psychic TV is at the Bowery Ballroom.

I almost went to SP, but I couldn’t find any of my old PVC buried in the closet and it seemed way too depressing to see them without Dwayne–did anyone check it out? I fear not only that the old magic would have been gone, but that I would realize I don’t even like that kind of music anymore. Plus my penchant for wacky Canadians who can’t seem to spell Kevin correct seems to have waned.
Odd little fact about Genisis P-Orridge and crew is that their keyboards are being played by my favorite media theorist, Douglas Rushkoff! Now that might warrant a trip downtown…

Your man-perm is disgustingly awesome. Never change. Love Sarah

I love the subway. Usually.
Today… a rastafarian, bunch af asian hipkids (Gen TXT?!), beauitiful Indian woman, black church ladies, spanish family, arabic couple, hip hoppers, a goth girl, some suburban tourists… all in one subway car.
I can’t imagine living someplace homogenuous. Did I spell that right?

I don’t like the sound of hovering helicopters; it’s one thing if they just fly over, but when they’re just circling overhead, it puts me in mind of disasters in the not-so-distant past. Last night, during Six Feet Under, a gaggle of them were just sitting over a spot a few blocks over with searchlights and everything.
This happens from time to time in this neighborhood — the last time, it was a drug raid — but it still makes me nervous, and now I’m scanning the local news to see what was going on in Bay Ridge last night at around 9:20.
I’m also saddened to report that I was leaning on my windowsill on my elbows, chatting about it on the phone. I’m turning into that lady from 227.

So Magnolia bakery in the West Village is always packed (especially with attitude), but some peeps who used to work there have opened a friendly sweet shop in the LES. Sugar Sweet Sunshine on 126 Rivington St. has the same style cupcakes (seen here entering NYC metroblogger Mina’s mouth), the same delish banana bread pudding, and it’s own quirky interior. Check out the amazing wall paper.. Can’t take a bad photo with that wallpaper as your background.

i love riding my bike.
i ride to and from work every day. i use it to go just about everywhere. it helps me save a little money since i don’t buy lots of metrocards every month.
but, sometimes it’s quite dangerous to ride in the city. bad drivers, occasional rude cyclists, and all those potholes can really get to you after a while.
but this morning made it all kinda funny… just as i was coming down to the manhattan side of the williamsburg bridge, a car pulled up along side of me with two women in it. as i looked over, they both pulled up their shirts… and sped off.
and i didn’t even get a chance to wave. or run.
BTW- the critical mass bikeride is tonight. it starts at union square.

The London chapter of metroblogging is up. check it out.

…and when I posted yesterday, I had no idea at the time that that poor woman had died under a 4 train. But can I ask a question?
You know how all the reports are like, “The engineer saw her on the tracks but couldn’t stop”? (And I always feel sorry for that guy, too.) I’m not quite clear on what civilians are supposed to do if we see someone on the tracks like that. Is there a call box? A procedure? Can’t someone go to the token booth and tell them to stop the incoming trains? Because it seems like this always happens — like the person’s been on the tracks for a while, but the train just comes in anyway, and the engineer can’t brake in time.
I think the MTA needs to work on a procedure for this, because from what I can tell, she’d fainted, come to, and was trying to get up onto the platform when she got hit, and it seems to me as though someone should have alerted the conductors well before that.