Third of October

What? It's national holiday over here in Germany and no fireworks, no barbeques, no parties, no parades, no fleets, no air shows, no sappy songs of national pride, no good natured flag waving, no silly hats, no moments of collectively loving the place you're at, even if it's a collective frustration of where things are going? Just somber speeches, awkward ceremonies and the usual George A. Romero style Oktoberfest debauchery in Munich, because that Bavarian barbarian thing's kinda politically correct? Ja, ja, ja, we lost the war. I know.We really don't like the place we live in, do we?

Listen to Funkmaster Flex's 4th of July broadcast, if you wanna know how to party for your country in style.

Or check out Ray Charles pull off righteous patriotism without flinching.

Or watch Johnny Cash having a not quite as benign patriot moment.

Summer Hit (1978)

Driving by former CBGB's the day Hilly Kristal died is not even in hindsight a particularly interesting story. But it wasn't called the "Blank Generation" for nothing.

Brooklyn Nostalgia

Sitting on the deck at 136 Coffey not getting a boat, driving down Cadman Plaza in a Dodge Charger with white leather seats, David's got a new poetry volume out, three rounds with Charlie, John's still sad, but very funny I still got credit at Sunny's, Zohey's and Ben's daughters name is Jasper, El Cantante's playing at the Cobble Hill, the soccer field vendors have not been driven out, but badly beaten by Rich's Caha China pork, Saturday afternoon beers at the Red Hook Pier Park watching the Seastreak pass by Liberty Island, hearing that Sniffy's in the pokey, dumplings at Do Wha with the heartbreak posse, collectively missing - Fred!, driving back from Connecticut with Freeman Dyson. And, oh yeah, Darwinian evolution was just a phase.

Smells Of New York

Great new service - the Gawker's New York City Subway Smell Map. Click on any station and read vivid descriptions of the fumes and odors to be found there. Hardly any outter borough entries though. Brooklyn, Queens and Bronx gentrified to the point of odorlessness already? As if. Most poetic - Union Square. Reads like the Tourette version of Warhol's musings on the topic in "The Philosophy Of Andy Warhol:

When I’m walking around New York I’m always aware of the smells around me: the rubber mats in office buildings; upholstered seats in movie theaters; pizza; Orange Julius; espresso-garlic-oregano; burgers; dry cotton tee-shirts; neighborhood grocery stores; chic grocery stores; the hot dogs and sauerkraut carts; hardware store smell; stationery store smell; souvlaki; the leather and rugs at Dunhill, Mark Cross, Gucci; the Moroccan-tanned leather on the street-racks; new magazines, back-issue magazines; typewriter stores; Chinese import stores (the mildew from the freighter); India import stores; Japanese import stores; record stores; health food stores; soda-fountain drugstores; cut-rate drugstores; barber shops; beauty parlors; delicatessens; lumber yards; the wood chairs and tables in the N.Y. Public Library; the donuts, pretzels, gum, and grape soda in the subways; kitchen appliance departments; photo labs; shoe stores; bicicle stores; the paper and printing inks in Scribner’s, Brentano’s, Doubleday’s, Rizzoli, Marboro, Bookmasters, Barnes & Nobel; shoe-shine stands; grease-batter; hair pomade; the good cheap candy smell in the front of Woolworth’s and the dry goods smell in the back; the horses by the Plaza Hotel; bus and truck exhaust; architects’ blueprints; cumin, fenugreek, soy sauce, cinnamon; fried plantanos; the train tracks in Grand Central Station; the banana smell of dry cleaners; exhausts from apartment house laundry rooms; East Side bars (creams); West Side bars (sweat); newspaper stands; record stores; fruit stands in all the different seasons—strawberry, watermelon, plum, peach, kiwi, cherry, Concord grape, tangerine, murcot, pineapple, apple—and I love the way the smell of each fruit gets into the rough wood of the crates and into the tissue-paper wrappings.

No Reverse

Here's a link that gives a good boost to New York nostalgia (lifted from MF's comment): Funkmaster Flex' 4th of July broadcast on Hot 97. Five hours of pure old school Independence Day. Makes you go back to The Roxy, Milky Way, Hotel Amazone and of course Big House. In that '78 T-Bird with no reverse of course.

Simpsonize Me

Fred simpsonized me. With a rather brillant useless web application on the Simpsons Movie website, which is fueling the current Simpsons fever. And yes, I'll go see that movie. Even though we managed to drop out of the movies and enter the DVD cycle, having missed two whole seasons due to moving and other things.
Talking about moving - the second batch of New York City returnees is about to arrive. Sookie and Johan are boarding their Goeteborg flight any miunte now. Reading Sookie's farewell blog about all those farewell parties is inducing serious pangs of New York nostalgia though. Amplified by news that essential personnel from that blog is going to Sandy Hook tomorrow. But hey, we got seventysomething lakes and a mountain range that can take on the Rockies anytime. C'mon New York. Try us.

New York Nostalgia (4th of July Edition)

I always liked 4th of July with all it's pathos and sentimentality, the barbeques and fireworks and the radio playing cheesy Irving Berlin songs. After having lived in a city thriving on a passionate and infectious local patriotism, it's kind of strange to live in a place where people don't really feel at home in their own country. So to celebrate 4th of July in this land of denial and self hatred here's one of the greatest songs about aforementioned local patriotism. Full of pathos and sentimentality. Only topped by the man who still manages to bring tears to the eyes of grown firemen.