Sunday February 25. 2001
3rd rail love songs
Met him as usual at the Port Authority. We went up to the Sushi place we had been a few weeks before. I had had my hair wrapped tightly in a dark blue scarf, but as we were walking up 9th avenue, it came undone and I gave up trying to retie it. The cold wind penetrated my scalp and nipped my ears.
The sushi was good. The sushi was too good. I am a glutton for punishment when it comes to wasabi, as in I like to put too much in my soy sauce, so every bite I take is excruciatingly, exquisitely hot. But I do love that raw fish. Yum yum.
We took the R train, and walked once again to Sidewalk, met by its smoky dimness and the sound of rough guitars coming from the back room. We seated ourselves at the same small circular table that we had last time. I spotted Major Matt Mason, who was performing tonight, and Nan, who was sitting next to him, wedged into a corner table. Tony and Peggy soon joined us at the table.
The band before Major Matt was a husband and wife duo called Prewar Yardsale. Their instruments consist of a guitar, and two buckets, one metal and one plastic. Their songs are very deadpan, ironic and...weird. For instance, there's a song called Weird (which you can download here). The lyrics go something like this:
"I keep dreaming of chicago"
"I got a lapdance on the train"
"I got a mirror above my bed"
And the chorus simply goes, "Weird weird weird weird weird weird weird weird weird weird weird weird weird." It's funny in a very absurdist way.
So I finally got to see Major Matt Mason USA. I'm just starting to realize how brilliant and funny some of his songs are, especially when performed live. He's a bit odd and awkward whenever he performs live, he sits in a chair, his feet constantly shifting and his face making various odd expressions when he sings. I think he's tapped into the part of me that lusts after nerdy, pudgy boys.
After we got out of Sidewalk, I spent some time taking photographs in the East Village as we made our way up to Union Square to get the subway. Most of them were just blurs due to the dark, but a couple turned out nicely, with a kind of blurry, ethereal look to them.
We watched Natural Born Killers and ate large chocolate bars and drank Pepsi and toasted with the champagne left over from New Year's Eve. It was bitter and bubbly and made me tingly all over. I slept restlessly, dozing on and off, entertaining small snippets of bizarre dreams until I finally fell asleep around 7 am. John woke me up once, and then again, and finally dragged me out of bed. The champagne had been left open and was flat.
It was a rainy, gray day. We ate lunch at the Court Square. The 7 train rumbling above was comforting. Waiters and waitresses dashed past us in the bustle of the after-church crowd. We ate quickly and went to look at computer chairs at Staples. We were all ready to buy until we realized that the box the chair came in would not fit in John's car, not by a long shot. So we didn't get the chair. I wanted to lust over the computers for a little while, so we walked over to that section. The selection was horrible. And the laptops were mutilated, literally. There were four of them, and two of them had most, if not all the keys just torn off. It made me want to cry.
Speaking of laptops, I am getting one. I mentioned that indirectly in the last entry, but yes, my little bundle of joy is currently being custom built by Compaq to fit my needs. My impetus to get one was that Pennsylvania had a tax holiday on all PCs last week, so I ended up saving about $150. And oh, she is going to be beautiful. Her name is Blue Train. Compaq Presario 1800, 15" screen, 15 gig hard drive, 128 megs of RAM, 700 mhz processor, and a DVD player. Yes, I am so hip and cool I now will have a DVD player.
Speaking of Blue Train, when my Dad came to visit, he brought this beauty:
I can't wait to hang it.
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One Year Ago:
"It's always odd meeting people you already know online, either through their journal (in Scott's case) or through a mailing list, which is the case of the RDTRNers I've met. You know all this stuff about their life, how they're feeling, yet you don't know them. Scott, fortunately, ended up being a very nice lad. I wish I could have spent more time with him and got to know him better. Of course, I would have found a way to gush about how great I think his site is and what an excellent writer I think he is, so maybe it was for the best. I didn't want to come across as some kind of psycho stalker from hell."