Summer in the City

I guess you could say that music has always played an integral part in my life. I can remember the theme songs to so many television shows that have long passed (which in truth may be a testament more to the mind-altering power of television than music), and I can remember hours of dramatically acting out scenes set to the more tear-jerking songs of my youth. I remember the love theme to Karate Kid III, making up scenes around the wordless melodies and playing them out in my head over and over. A more obscure treat from the Karate Kid soundtrack was the reworking of The Loving Spoonful's song "Summer in the City." The lyrics are semi-unimportant now, but it's mainly stuff about how hot it is in the City (can there be any doubt as to what City gets it's own capitalization?) in the summer, and how things are in general in New York. They complain. People walk around, it's gritty and horrible. Then the chorus kicks in, there's a bit of a chuckle in their voices, and they say, "but at night it's a different world" and, just like that, you know that that's how they like it.

And that's what life is like here, pretty much. Every movie you've ever seen, every song that's ever been written about it, New York is all of those things. It's trashy and dirty, the subway and people smell bad, it's hot and sticky, but it's beautiful at night, the way the city lights up across the bay. You find your oasis, you create your own niche in this place. There's a heartbeat to this place, and you understand how somebody can write a song about how hot and muggy and just awful it all is but never want to leave it.

Internet

And, like a beacon of light shining down from the heavens, I have an internet signal at home.

Blecccccch

Bad Brett Ratner! Get your slimy hands off my movie franchise!

Gasp!

So I didn't die. But I did move to a more spacious apartment, get sent on a business trip to Miami, spend $1,000+ on my brand new life in Astoria. Plus I still don't have internet in the new place.

Remind me to fill you all in.

A Brief Treatise on American Idol

Ryan Seacrest, who at this point is totally phoning in his appearances on American Idol, takes a deep breath and booms out "America voted last night, and Simon, a lot of people were complaining about your harsh criticism."

Okay, here's the thing, gang. I get that it's fun to talk about the results with friends and coworkers, and/or root for your favorite singer. I understand that the producers of this show have totally rigged things up so that heartstrings are tugged and that the maximum tension is felt to the bone. But guys. People actually called up and complained. I'm going to reiterate: People were actually moved enough to feel some sort of emotion, most likely outrage, and physically picked up a phone to call the show and complain. Um... Yeah. IT'S JUST TV.

Why I Haven't Been to the Gym, Although I Truly Should Go

It's pouring outside. Travis and I grimace and hesitate for a moment, but our combined resolve cannot be broken so easily or so soon. We open our umbrellas and begin the ten minute walk to the gym. Normally this is a nice thing, a bit of a brisk beginning to time on the treadmill or the weight bench. The rain is really coming down hard, though, and within minutes our pantlegs are soaked. "My feet are getting wet," Travis complains. "I don't even want to work out anymore. Let's go home." I tell him that no, that we can do it, we're halfway there! We continue.

By the time we get to the gym, my feet are soaked and cold. I hold my umbrella tighter to my head, to keep the water from splashing any further. I look up at the gym, placing my foot on the curb, and slip suddenly. I fall to the ground on my hands and knees, and my poor Guggenheim Bilbao umbrella folds in on itself and snaps in two. My knees are bleeding and my hands are sore and red.

This is a sign from God. "I'm going home." I spend the next ten minutes not on the treadmill, not on the weight bench, but walking home in the pouring rain. Really, isn't that exercise enough?

Dear Mr. President...

One of the most powerful songs I've heard in a long, long time.