Tuesday, August 19, 2014
The Mystery of the Max Racks Postcards
Back in the 1990s around New York City there were these racks of postcards in stores and restaurants—often by the restrooms—that were promotional in nature, full color,and somehwat intereting.
as you waited for the restroom, you could browse the rack of GoCards or MaxRacks cards and take a few. There were postcards for broadway shows, perfumes, clothing, TV shows, events, etc. Essentially they were slick ads in the form of postcard.
I took to collecting them for a time. I would take two of each that I thought were interesting.
I did it as a sort of time capsule, and to this day I still have a box full. There's Pamela Anderson in a PETA ad; a postcard for a Rocky Horror Broadway revival; various perfume ads; a card with the schedule for Bryant Park Summer Movies, to name just a few.
Increasingly though, in the late 90s, I would come upon the racks and find them pretty much empty. I found it sort of hard to blieve that people were taking THAT much interest in these cards. To the point where every single perfume ad was gone? Seemed unlikely.
Then one day, while I was waiting for the bathroom at Veselka, a shlumpy older person in an overcoat lumbered in. I could not tell if this person, wearing a baseball cap and stringy long white hair was a man or woman. But no matter. The person came lumbering in with two large paper shopping bags, stuffed full of unknown matter. When said person reached where i was standng, they reached into every single slot, pulled out the respective stack of cards, and put it into their shopping bag.
When the person had cleaned out every single card, he/she turned, lumbered away, and exited Veselka.
Thus solved the mystery of where all those cards were going. Probably to fill said person's house until the day they died. Whereupon whoever was responsible to clear things out would likely throw away those and everything else this packrat had collected over the years.
as you waited for the restroom, you could browse the rack of GoCards or MaxRacks cards and take a few. There were postcards for broadway shows, perfumes, clothing, TV shows, events, etc. Essentially they were slick ads in the form of postcard.
I took to collecting them for a time. I would take two of each that I thought were interesting.
I did it as a sort of time capsule, and to this day I still have a box full. There's Pamela Anderson in a PETA ad; a postcard for a Rocky Horror Broadway revival; various perfume ads; a card with the schedule for Bryant Park Summer Movies, to name just a few.
Increasingly though, in the late 90s, I would come upon the racks and find them pretty much empty. I found it sort of hard to blieve that people were taking THAT much interest in these cards. To the point where every single perfume ad was gone? Seemed unlikely.
Then one day, while I was waiting for the bathroom at Veselka, a shlumpy older person in an overcoat lumbered in. I could not tell if this person, wearing a baseball cap and stringy long white hair was a man or woman. But no matter. The person came lumbering in with two large paper shopping bags, stuffed full of unknown matter. When said person reached where i was standng, they reached into every single slot, pulled out the respective stack of cards, and put it into their shopping bag.
When the person had cleaned out every single card, he/she turned, lumbered away, and exited Veselka.
Thus solved the mystery of where all those cards were going. Probably to fill said person's house until the day they died. Whereupon whoever was responsible to clear things out would likely throw away those and everything else this packrat had collected over the years.
Bring Home the Beacon
On Saturday August 16 2014, Brooklyn and Queens went to Beacon.
It was a longish train ride, but pleasant enough.
Nice town, nice weather.
Queens always obsessed with seeing what the property asking prices are, a recent outward fixation. Queens might have thought about this endlessly for years and years, but never made that obsession public.
Brooklyn got a window tile, see through, with a kind of lovely painting of dragonflies. 12 dollars and came equipped with (sp?) its own leather handle to hang over the window latch.
It would be interesting to do a house swap, for a month. Where Brooklyn would be in Beacon, and Beacon would be in Brooklyn. Just to live another lifestyle for a moment.
Vive la difference.
"n shit.
It was a longish train ride, but pleasant enough.
Nice town, nice weather.
Queens always obsessed with seeing what the property asking prices are, a recent outward fixation. Queens might have thought about this endlessly for years and years, but never made that obsession public.
Brooklyn got a window tile, see through, with a kind of lovely painting of dragonflies. 12 dollars and came equipped with (sp?) its own leather handle to hang over the window latch.
It would be interesting to do a house swap, for a month. Where Brooklyn would be in Beacon, and Beacon would be in Brooklyn. Just to live another lifestyle for a moment.
Vive la difference.
"n shit.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
More Signs of the Crankenstein Monster (me)
Biked around the hood a bit, weeburg. Jam crowded with people.
Jim Durkaccchkkk had told me about this street festival for motorcyclists, which included bands and BBQ, motorcycles and the related community interested in that stuff. So I biked over to there, to North 14th Street.
I will spare some of the details except to say it was the noisiest, most contrived gathering of hipster doofii I've encountered in years, I frankly found the scene beyond belief. It was like a casting agent had gone out and fetched the largest array of similar-vein personas for a crowd-shot that might appear as Background Talent in some production.
It was literally like walking straight into the vortex of a noisy headache!! A band bleating atonally, with rows of various kinds of motorbikes lined up—none of which anyone was looking at. People just seemed to be milling about, not talking, sort of watching the band, but more than anything just kinda moving up and down the street without rhyme or reason. Talk about a scene that holds zero interest for me.
What blew me away was, how ANYONE might be interested -- Impossible to talk to anyone due to the noise; the smell of burnt and meat smoke was overpowering; it was hot and crowded; everyone seems to be posing for Williamsburg Hipster Magazine™....
My one regret is that I did not take any photos to post here for you, dear reader!!!
I must remember to do that in the future.
Lesson? Take pictures to post later.
Jim Durkaccchkkk had told me about this street festival for motorcyclists, which included bands and BBQ, motorcycles and the related community interested in that stuff. So I biked over to there, to North 14th Street.
I will spare some of the details except to say it was the noisiest, most contrived gathering of hipster doofii I've encountered in years, I frankly found the scene beyond belief. It was like a casting agent had gone out and fetched the largest array of similar-vein personas for a crowd-shot that might appear as Background Talent in some production.
It was literally like walking straight into the vortex of a noisy headache!! A band bleating atonally, with rows of various kinds of motorbikes lined up—none of which anyone was looking at. People just seemed to be milling about, not talking, sort of watching the band, but more than anything just kinda moving up and down the street without rhyme or reason. Talk about a scene that holds zero interest for me.
What blew me away was, how ANYONE might be interested -- Impossible to talk to anyone due to the noise; the smell of burnt and meat smoke was overpowering; it was hot and crowded; everyone seems to be posing for Williamsburg Hipster Magazine™....
My one regret is that I did not take any photos to post here for you, dear reader!!!
I must remember to do that in the future.
Lesson? Take pictures to post later.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Drinkin 'n Stinkin
I personally loathe and loathe bars for the most part.
I mean, as a visitor at times, fine.
But the whole "regulars" thing? Depresses the hell outta me.
So-and-so has to visit her socials at this local bar every friday, and I am judgey. And boil it down to alcoholism.
You HAVE to visit and gather in a bar?
To me, I dunno.
I just have to be judgey about it, I don't care.
A drinkery is a tricky thing;
some people really are NOT boozers, but…
why not just go to a park or sit on a bench or something.
Its all very strange and foreign to me.
Plus, my dad was a boozer, so thats a sore spot.
For both me AND my sister - we're not bar-people.
Probably due to dad's showing poor behavior on wine and beer.
We were like, "dads a weirdo" when he drank.
Which he was.
Not a person on the planet that I know of, who actually becomes smarter on booze.
But thats again, me being judgey.
I don't think I'm wrong tho.
Friday, August 1, 2014
SNOWPIERCER : A Movie
I wouldn't rush to see Snow Piercer!!
I did - and was let down.
I'll tell you why - it was so full of exposition via titles in the beginning, and then explained itself up with a 5 to 7 minute overly ridiculous speech at the conclusion... not effective. For me.
And in fact, so incredibly violent.
They missed an opportunity there, in my view.
It reminded me of something cartoonish, minus the character development.
Hard to tell who was who and why. Other than some speeches along the way.
Hard to tell who was who and why. Other than some speeches along the way.
Weird movie.
But; movies can be affected by the emotions of said person in that moment, and different to another person at another moment.
etc.
LENA DUNHAM and her TV World
I'm about to watch the final ep of GIRLS season 3. my god Dunham really has to be topless and unclothed as much as possible.
I GET IT YOURE A REAL NORMAL BODIED EVERYDAY LADY!! jeezis.
How many nude doofus DUDES do we see nude on tv, tho?
But I get her point, she sure hammers it home repeatedly: “I won't be made to hide, look at my regular-lady body. I said LOOK AT IT!! You are GOING to look at it, dammit!”
She is a good actress, albeit whiny.
and her friend characters are really good
adn the boyfriend is pretty fantastic in his way.
God her friends are pretty damned annoying tho.
Still?
Hooked.
LOST leads up to THE LEFTOVERS
TV show stuff:
LOST was the greatest adventure show ever. I am serious!!! Super tantalizing and gripping, fascinating, interesting. It got better and better.
Tlll the end of season 3.
Then, it was clearly a cynical ploy.
To tantalize without coheerence.
Bad.
So again I say NO!!
To another damien lindelhoff whatever thing. NO to leftovers.
RADIO RADIO RADIO!!! I cannot believe it.
And maybe this is kinda immature (of course)...
I accidentally tuned my clock radio alarm to the wrong station, instead of NPR.
Ended up on NYE-FM, 91.5.
Never heard of it.
But it was cranking tons of nonstop music, some familiar, and some totally not.
Short story long?
Its new york's WNYC-government non-commercial station, that from 6am-12noon plays alternative music.
I went on thte web and found that they play all the music thats up and coming, or already cummed.
Bloc Party, Lykke Li, new order, St. Vincent, War on Drugs... all these bands that are plastered up as posters all over the city and wburg.
ANY
way
I started listening to the 24 hour stream on their web page, and now have the iphone app
Whats cool is, I am learning about these bands, I never knew who they were.
So, I'm an oldster with some knowledge of the youngster's world!
I swear, its like WLIR from the 1980s, its fun.
http://www.thealternateside.org/schedule/playlists
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