Singing And Dancing

Okay, so forget what I said about not wanting to talk politics -- well, blog politics; I'm always willing to talk politics -- Everyone's got Obamania! I didn't even know about this until last night when I went over to 680 to watch the primary results trickle in (and eat Colleen's frighteningly on-target root beer cake), but apparently everyone I know has been volunteering for the dude: Tom's been phone-banking like crazy (fourth highest number of calls in the state, he claims); Emma, who brought the irresistibly laconic Pearl over to watch was sandwich-boarding it up at 13th & 8th, my old polling place; and one of the 680 roommate, Jude, was handing out stuff in the subways, I think. My own contribution was merely a vote, but since I was sure I'd unaffiliated myself (did so out of despair and irritation during the time it was the Party of Terry McAuliffe), the fact that I showed up on the rolls at 40th & 4th counts as a Super Tuesday miracle, I think.

Man is Barack Obama a good talker. Platform-wise, he's not too far off from Clinton, although he seems to be a lot more up-front and precise about what he's promising; maybe that's why he's a better talker than her, too. Nina and I have an ongoing argument about the value of Washinton experience -- I won't get into here, since, you know, this is my forum and it wouldn't be fair -- but suffice it to say I feel like this is emblematic of why he'd be a more responsive administrator. That, and, you know, he's not morally / politically compromised.

Eve is back from India. We went to Studio B on Thursday to catch The Thermals doing this karaoke thing with New York Magazine and The Whitest Kids U Know, and she filled me in on her trip -- it turns out that whilst journeying through the subcontinent, she was poisoned, beset by religious extremists, and run down by a truck. All of these attempts on her life were unsuccessful -- Eve's kind of like Rasputin, that way. I don't know if I'm jealous, per se -- I may not have a tough enough constitution for a trip like that -- but it sounded like a very exciting trip.

And it was nice to have something to talk about at the show, because the comedy was fucking horrible. I mean, really, really bad. Even Gothamist hated it, and they're usually, you know, "event positive," even for crappy stuff. They're not kidding about the floor, though -- it was fucking sticky as hell. I don't know if I'm on board with Stereogum's commenter analysis, which claimed it was an "adhesive" to keep people from dancing, but it sure made dancing difficult. If you kept moving your feet, it was a little like walking across the floor of, like, five filthy movie theaters at once, but if you stopped moving for like a minute or two, it glued you in place. As usual, I was glad I was wearing the ol' boots -- Eve's sneakers kept getting sucked off by the muck.

The band was terrific, though. After a slightly off-key start (bad levels in the monitor, maybe), they whipped through a really tight set that included a bunch of really promising-sounding new songs. And Kathy was doing that charming thing she does. We were tired, though, and didn't feel like sticking around for the second round of horrible, awkward comedy (K. Foster, to the crowd, while the band was tuning up: "You guys like that stuff? Titties and butt-holes?") even if it meant more Thermals playing for the karaoke stuff later on, so we headed out. And we got as far as Nassau before I realized I'd left my credit card at the bar. When I ran back to get it, karaoke was in full swing, but the band seemed fairly disinterested, playing mostly into their amps and not bopping around much. Don't blame 'em -- it was a fairly dubious prospect. I got my picture taken, though!

My (former) roommate Randy is doing a thing a day, all month. Jesus.

It occurs to me that I haven't been going out to many things recently. Part of that is because of the weather, part of it is on account of my new gig as a rebellious monkey, but you know, yeah, I've been lazy, too. So I've started adding stuff to my wonderful events calendar again. May I draw your attention to the Gallows shows this weekend? No? How about some Jonathan Richman?

Been eating a lot of great Trader Joe's mexican lately, which is weird, since I live in, you know, Mexico City. I also baked some really good zucchini-apple muffins using a recipe from Moosewood, a copy of which Nina brought with her when she moved in. The secret? The recipe called for oat bran, which is fucking impossible to find at normal people stores. So I took. It. Out.

Good night!