Killer ear ache the last few days. this is my second one in six months. I know what its from. its because I don't have a housekeeper now and I take baths. I have always taken baths. My new image consultant or image coach more like it, what did we call him again? JB? Yeah, JB I think. he's always trying to get me to discover more of my quirks because he says it makes great press. Of course you need great press if you are a somebody, but I've made a career of being a not-somebody so I have no idea why we are worrying about great press. But in any case, JB tells me, there's another quirk for you. I have always taken baths. There was a brief time in high school when I thought it was cool and grownup to take showers so I did it for a while because it was all about discovering the inner-man within and bagging the babes, but by college I was back in the tub every morning.
So did that freak any of my girlfriends out through the years? yeah I think it did. a grown man jumping out of bed to go sit in the bathtub for an hour every morning. but now everyone is used to it because well I'm an adult now and I think everyone has just pretty much assumed ‘yeah, well Fishy takes baths. He just does. He's always done that.’ when at home for the holidays mom always wakes me up early so I don't make everyone late because of the bath factor. Classic.
[I just heard a girl on the street say what the fuck. I hate when girls curse. I know. totally sexist. But I can’t help it. I'm old fashioned. if I hear a girl curse I just totally lose my interest in them. if a girl says fuck because she's really mad that's one thing, as long as its cute.. you know. like “honey you just said fuck.” And then she apologizes. But if you're at dinner with a girl and she says fuck matter of factly... Forget about it. I'm looking at her wondering how I ever managed to be at a dinner table with her. I'm not saying I wouldn’t sleep with them. but I just wouldn’t go out with them. you know, girls should offer you that girl thing. and saying fuck is not just not that girl thing. speaking of girls, today some girl comes into my office and slaps all these naked photos of her in all these erotic poses on my desk and walks away. I'll tell you, ever since I decided to stop being player and hold out for number one the girls are just coming out of the woodwork. Its nuts. I think girls can feel when you're not playing anymore. They try to get through that maybe because they see as a challenge. Or maybe just because you aren't putting out that I'm a player vibe anymore. Who knows. but this is crazy. now when I finally decide to get serious and look for Mrs. Number one... now they're just everywhere. and the naked pix didn't even turn me on. which could mean that I'm gay I guess. Holy shit that reminds me last night I walked to this local newsstand on second avenue to get a smoke and there was this GAY XXX magazine on the counter so I opened it up and looked inside. And holy shit. it was filled with naked men with huge erect rods doing each other. I mean they were like really doing each other in the poop shoots. I had never seen that before. I mean, we hear about it, but to see it like that in full color. Wow. that was some crazy stuff. so that's what they do for real then huh. Crazy. hey, whatever floats your boat.]
so where were we. O.k. so no housekeeper and the apartment is really gross. I mean we are back to the college days at this point. Seriously disgusting at this point. But that's because I'm working around the clock and frankly even if I weren't who wants to clean their own house? so I just let it go because well its fun and I'm lazy and probably too much of a snob at this point for my own good. but the bath tub is so gross! I'm talking gross and I still take these baths everyday in it like that character from the old MTV show the young ones. And I don't really mind because I'm really enjoying the old dirty college days vibe. I don't know why exactly but I'm actually enjoying it. I think I secretly look at it like my last blast. I mean, lets face it, once you settle down with a girl you can’t just let the house go and live like a pig so I'm just really getting a lot out of it and making the most of it. there is garbage everywhere and when I walk I just kick it around the room. Now bear in mind that I'm pretty high right now from all this pain medication from this effing ear ache so don't count on me to admit this tomorrow.
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
Friday, June 24, 2005
Saturday, June 18, 2005
I just landed back in New York. I cannot describe the feeling of pleasure I get when I get back to nyc. You feel so blessed to come back and realize that you live here. what a joy. anyway, You ever notice that there are people who are into golf? I mean, they're really into it. like, they like it. On the plane today I noticed an older couple watching golf on the TV in front of them. a hundred channels and they are watching golf. For me golf is boring enough to play, let alone watch other people play it on a TV. Couldn’t imagine. I would love to get in the mind of people like that and see what's going on. find out what makes them tick.
[o.k. check this out, as fate would have it, I am sitting in my favorite little smoke shop on fiftieth and lex in a big old leather chair just happy to be back in the city; in a few minutes we will begin shooting for the TV show trailer, and so I'm just chilling and typing here and this special comes on TV explaining how the US open is so cool because its this championship where anyone can qualify to play in it. even regular joes like you and me and that's what makes it so special. That in fact this one guy who's is this total blue collar worker qualified this year and couldn’t afford to go so he put himself up on eBay for a sponsorship and a north Carolina health care company got the high bid and gave him $7600 to pay for his travel and lodging and other expenses. The most he ever made playing golf. Now that's a cool story. I'm not sold on golf necessarily but I appreciate it a lot more now. goes to show, information is the key. The more we learn about something the more we can get into it. I'm telling you, I think sometimes that God is just really focusing attention on me right now, as if sometimes he just lowers his hands down and lifts me up and places me into situations as if to show me things... I can’t say I mind so much.]
Today Tree called me. which is rare. He never calls any of us anymore. Weird because I was just writing about him. right? the invisible hand. anyway, he didn't call to chat. He called because it turns out a good friend of ours from high school died over in Iraq. Dan Binster. Everyone called him Binky back then. when I first heard the news I was angry and sad. I felt for his family, but my initial reaction was ‘well it serves him right. he knew what he was getting himself into. what the hell was he doing over there killing people anyway? I mean, you go invade a foreign country, yeah there's a risk that you're going to get killed. And here we are mourning for the 1600 Americans who have died and here they’ve killed more than 100,000 iraqis so far....’ I warned Tree that I wasn't the one who was going to be sympathetic about this situation. I said bro I'm not the one to call about this. you know how I feel about America invading Iraq or any other country that isn't attacking us. now I thought Tree was going to be pissed at me for saying this. but he wasn't. he said he agreed with me but found it hard because these guys have their president coming on TV all the time telling them that invading Iraq is the right thing to do and that they're helping to free the Iraqi people and save the Americans. We both just sat there talking about how fucked the whole thing is and now one of our friends is dead because of this. and how many more American guys are injured or wounded in some horrible way? fucking bastard government. And now its home for us. a good guy right from our own little private high school. From this forward on in the concept we call life here on earth this guy will exist no more. he is dead. He is a memory. And he was killed because he was invading another country because the president of this country told him to go there and do it. and now he's dead. And his family and friends will forever suffer and miss him and wonder the hell happened to Binky. And in the meantime tomorrow bush and his war monger administration will wake up and eat their breakfast, tell a few jokes, maybe even play a few rounds of golf. They’ll give a few speeches to the press about how we must keep going and complete our mission, whatever the hell that is, I think the whole fucking country at this point is wondering about that one. and day by day thousands more Iraqi people will die and hundreds more Americans will die. There will be a Binky from every town in America dead before this thing is through and bush and his administration and their families will be just fine because they aren't over there fighting. Nope. They’ll be just fine.
[o.k. check this out, as fate would have it, I am sitting in my favorite little smoke shop on fiftieth and lex in a big old leather chair just happy to be back in the city; in a few minutes we will begin shooting for the TV show trailer, and so I'm just chilling and typing here and this special comes on TV explaining how the US open is so cool because its this championship where anyone can qualify to play in it. even regular joes like you and me and that's what makes it so special. That in fact this one guy who's is this total blue collar worker qualified this year and couldn’t afford to go so he put himself up on eBay for a sponsorship and a north Carolina health care company got the high bid and gave him $7600 to pay for his travel and lodging and other expenses. The most he ever made playing golf. Now that's a cool story. I'm not sold on golf necessarily but I appreciate it a lot more now. goes to show, information is the key. The more we learn about something the more we can get into it. I'm telling you, I think sometimes that God is just really focusing attention on me right now, as if sometimes he just lowers his hands down and lifts me up and places me into situations as if to show me things... I can’t say I mind so much.]
Today Tree called me. which is rare. He never calls any of us anymore. Weird because I was just writing about him. right? the invisible hand. anyway, he didn't call to chat. He called because it turns out a good friend of ours from high school died over in Iraq. Dan Binster. Everyone called him Binky back then. when I first heard the news I was angry and sad. I felt for his family, but my initial reaction was ‘well it serves him right. he knew what he was getting himself into. what the hell was he doing over there killing people anyway? I mean, you go invade a foreign country, yeah there's a risk that you're going to get killed. And here we are mourning for the 1600 Americans who have died and here they’ve killed more than 100,000 iraqis so far....’ I warned Tree that I wasn't the one who was going to be sympathetic about this situation. I said bro I'm not the one to call about this. you know how I feel about America invading Iraq or any other country that isn't attacking us. now I thought Tree was going to be pissed at me for saying this. but he wasn't. he said he agreed with me but found it hard because these guys have their president coming on TV all the time telling them that invading Iraq is the right thing to do and that they're helping to free the Iraqi people and save the Americans. We both just sat there talking about how fucked the whole thing is and now one of our friends is dead because of this. and how many more American guys are injured or wounded in some horrible way? fucking bastard government. And now its home for us. a good guy right from our own little private high school. From this forward on in the concept we call life here on earth this guy will exist no more. he is dead. He is a memory. And he was killed because he was invading another country because the president of this country told him to go there and do it. and now he's dead. And his family and friends will forever suffer and miss him and wonder the hell happened to Binky. And in the meantime tomorrow bush and his war monger administration will wake up and eat their breakfast, tell a few jokes, maybe even play a few rounds of golf. They’ll give a few speeches to the press about how we must keep going and complete our mission, whatever the hell that is, I think the whole fucking country at this point is wondering about that one. and day by day thousands more Iraqi people will die and hundreds more Americans will die. There will be a Binky from every town in America dead before this thing is through and bush and his administration and their families will be just fine because they aren't over there fighting. Nope. They’ll be just fine.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
New York is amazing today. 68 degrees and sunny. Just to sit in the park and write is difficult because there are so many beautiful people everywhere to look at and talk to. so many beautiful girls in New York. today as I was walking down Park Ave. I was looking at all the beautiful girls that pass you by, and sometimes you just have to watch them as they walk out of view because they are so beautiful and fresh and alive looking. And this is part of the joy and wonder of being a man and loving women in New York. With no intention, you just watch them and admire them. for me I love the girls with the dark hair and the Italian glasses. Forget about it. I almost drop dead from that look. I'm thinking, how could we ever choose just one? how would we ever know which one to choose? I swear to God you could fall in love ten times in a day and not even notice it. falling in love is easy. staying in love... now that's the challenge...
it has to be something magical involved in the process. Something that tells you ‘this is the one’ and that makes you forget about all the others. I am longing for that now. not that I haven't been for years now, but the other fantasies have either been lived and experienced or don't seem as important now compared to that. so we wait for that something magical that just blows you away and takes a hundred and ten percent of your attention... someone you can become slightly obsessed with I guess and that can occupy all of your attention so there isn't any left for all the other birds out there you haven't had opportunity to be with. As I was walking I had this realization... that... ‘she too waits to meet you.’ it was a whisper in my ear by the angels I believe. that simple. But profound. She too waits to meet the man of her dreams. and that is quite a comforting thought. So I just kept walking on, and lifted my head a bit higher and realized that one needn’t worry too much about it. relax and allow.
Made me think of Cleopatra. Always something so tragic there. all I wanted to do was protect her from that. and yet I knew I couldn’t. what could I really do? but still, I carried it with me from the moment we met. Always trying to protect her... eventually I came to realize that I couldn’t. it wasn't up to me. it was something carried inside of her. I could talk her down, but I couldn’t eradicate the fear and anxiousness. It just wasn't for me to do. but still, even today, I still feel called to it sometimes when I hear that in her voice. Maybe that's just the man in us. that wants to protect and comfort and heal and provide safety and security to our beautiful little loved ones.
Liner notes for new album:
When we were rehearsing for the new CD, we had a lot of songs to choose from. I knew I wanted to record an album called Girls and just record all the songs each of us had ever written about girls. Maybe have one disc of new, unreleased songs about girls, for we are always writing them, and then another disc as a freebie that would contain a compilation of all the songs about girls collected from other already released albums. just for fun really. humor me on this one. I know that's what the guys in the band have been doing about it. as they always do.
So while we rehearsed all these songs about girls, we also rehearsed others as well. songs that didn't seem to fit in anywhere. Perhaps another album. Solaris and we are columbine and Zion and the rest of them. Soon a set of songs appeared that all seemed to go together. they had the same vibe. Maybe not the same style, which has always been my Achilles heal as a song-writer. My eyes are bigger than my stomach so to speak. Always wanting to take on more than I can handle or more than you are meant to on one album maybe. That has always been according to critics at least a burden that I was all too willing to bare regardless of the criticism because frankly as an artist I just enjoy doing whatever the hell I want to; and as a music fan I just really enjoy lots of different musical styles. I've never enjoyed listening to a whole album all the way through. Not even by my favorite artists. Call it ADD, whatever, that's just me.
it has to be something magical involved in the process. Something that tells you ‘this is the one’ and that makes you forget about all the others. I am longing for that now. not that I haven't been for years now, but the other fantasies have either been lived and experienced or don't seem as important now compared to that. so we wait for that something magical that just blows you away and takes a hundred and ten percent of your attention... someone you can become slightly obsessed with I guess and that can occupy all of your attention so there isn't any left for all the other birds out there you haven't had opportunity to be with. As I was walking I had this realization... that... ‘she too waits to meet you.’ it was a whisper in my ear by the angels I believe. that simple. But profound. She too waits to meet the man of her dreams. and that is quite a comforting thought. So I just kept walking on, and lifted my head a bit higher and realized that one needn’t worry too much about it. relax and allow.
Made me think of Cleopatra. Always something so tragic there. all I wanted to do was protect her from that. and yet I knew I couldn’t. what could I really do? but still, I carried it with me from the moment we met. Always trying to protect her... eventually I came to realize that I couldn’t. it wasn't up to me. it was something carried inside of her. I could talk her down, but I couldn’t eradicate the fear and anxiousness. It just wasn't for me to do. but still, even today, I still feel called to it sometimes when I hear that in her voice. Maybe that's just the man in us. that wants to protect and comfort and heal and provide safety and security to our beautiful little loved ones.
Liner notes for new album:
When we were rehearsing for the new CD, we had a lot of songs to choose from. I knew I wanted to record an album called Girls and just record all the songs each of us had ever written about girls. Maybe have one disc of new, unreleased songs about girls, for we are always writing them, and then another disc as a freebie that would contain a compilation of all the songs about girls collected from other already released albums. just for fun really. humor me on this one. I know that's what the guys in the band have been doing about it. as they always do.
So while we rehearsed all these songs about girls, we also rehearsed others as well. songs that didn't seem to fit in anywhere. Perhaps another album. Solaris and we are columbine and Zion and the rest of them. Soon a set of songs appeared that all seemed to go together. they had the same vibe. Maybe not the same style, which has always been my Achilles heal as a song-writer. My eyes are bigger than my stomach so to speak. Always wanting to take on more than I can handle or more than you are meant to on one album maybe. That has always been according to critics at least a burden that I was all too willing to bare regardless of the criticism because frankly as an artist I just enjoy doing whatever the hell I want to; and as a music fan I just really enjoy lots of different musical styles. I've never enjoyed listening to a whole album all the way through. Not even by my favorite artists. Call it ADD, whatever, that's just me.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Went to an opening party of a new Brazilian art space and club. Free caipirinha all night so we we’re pretty wasted. Went with polar bear, a new friend, who is some kind of mad genius inventor/designer guy. incredible conversation. I love New York. walking around the city going from cool place to cool place. talking about fellini versus Bertolluci. Brian eno’s musical contribution versus his intellectual contribution.... And why pink Floyd shouldn’t be on my desert island list but the squarepushers should be. and does good art need a cohesive narrative-through-line... or can it exist on its own... of course I prefer the latter theory, seeing that I have never been able to master the art of good narrative through-lines. And when I have attempted it I have always failed miserably... at least if you are to believe the critics... I sat around Miami for three years hoping to have one fucking conversation like that and after a while thought there was something wrong with me because the town is so thoroughly devoid of intellect. But God did I try. Here in New York they are as commonplace as breathing in or out.... God I love New York.
Current spin: green day, American idiot. they're starting to grow up. dig it. this is the next generation of what post-punk can be. the fucking drumming is awesome. tres cool.
Current spin: green day, American idiot. they're starting to grow up. dig it. this is the next generation of what post-punk can be. the fucking drumming is awesome. tres cool.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Today at the cigar lounge they were playing the Beatles blue album... or maybe it was the number ones album. Whatever. reminded me. hadn't heard them in years. What's the deal with Paul? He has this whole worry about not being regarded as important as John in history... wants to reverse the Lennon-McCartney writing credits for all the songs he wrote so he is more distinguished for his contributions... I love Paul so much that I am rather biased and could never think anything bad about him. but I hate that about his thinking. I was thinking about this because this is the 25th anniversary of johns death believe it or not. crazy. and I was thinking about how important John seems still today and you know comparing it to Paul and the truth is that Paul does it to himself. I love his Beatles and wings songs... but I mean, number one, his lyrics, he never seems to take lyric writing very seriously does he. Always takes the easy way out. even his best songs never got to the heart of the matter like John did with plastic ono band album or imagine... or walls and bridges etc... or even double fantasy. Also, when he is in public he always manages not to say anything... he never speaks up about anything as John did. I mean if wants to be regarded as smart and pithy and concerned and all that as John was and is then why not start speaking up more... start saying something. John was just so out there. so vocal and so open. and Paul always just seems so non-committed to speaking out. I suppose that is part of his charm, his ability to not turn anyone off... but in the end, if you really want to turn people on, you're going to end up turning a few off.
The thing about New York is that it is the most friendly city in the world most of the time. but it is a very competitive city as well. no one is going to give you any handouts. Its all business. and today I really felt that. you have to climb your way to the top. Just living here, you're “there” already. you're at the top. But that's really when the challenge begins. can you do it? can you climb up and make something of yourself? Because in New York people aren't really interested in people who haven't made something of themselves. You’ve either got it and its something that people want, or you don't. and you're going to notice that. fast.
The thing about New York is that it is the most friendly city in the world most of the time. but it is a very competitive city as well. no one is going to give you any handouts. Its all business. and today I really felt that. you have to climb your way to the top. Just living here, you're “there” already. you're at the top. But that's really when the challenge begins. can you do it? can you climb up and make something of yourself? Because in New York people aren't really interested in people who haven't made something of themselves. You’ve either got it and its something that people want, or you don't. and you're going to notice that. fast.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
It is fucking freezing in New York right now. inside my apartment is freezing. Outside it is even colder. I cannot sleep because I am too cold...
CURRENT CONDITIONS
New York, NY
Updated 10:12 AM EST
Sunny
Temp: 12°F (-11 C)
I continue to work ten projects at a time... pounding... just fucking slamming... one project will pay off. Everything I touch turns to gold. And then bam!
A few weeks into French class here in the city. the teacher is very good. really cares about each person learning the language. I have noticed that I have started to hear this voice in my head singing the language like a song this week. For the first time since I started really studying the language, which began in earnest last march at that retched fucking school in Miami, I’ve noticed that I am now starting to subconsciously translate things I hear in English on the street throughout my day into French; just for fun. this is what we do when we are children, when we are learning our own native language (our own native language.... that's redundant isn't it?). And now my subconscious mind is doing it in French. this a good thing. I commented the other day in class that French is the Mt. Everest of languages. There is nothing logical or practical or that makes sense about this language phonetically. These people were just fucking crazy when they developed this language amongst themselves. Just off in left field all on their own... But I will master it. I can see that now. I am getting it.
It is so beautiful. if you could just hear what this number sounds like in French: “six-cent-soixante-seis.” 676. just fucking beautiful and its just a number. Its pure poetry.
CURRENT CONDITIONS
New York, NY
Updated 10:12 AM EST
Sunny
Temp: 12°F (-11 C)
I continue to work ten projects at a time... pounding... just fucking slamming... one project will pay off. Everything I touch turns to gold. And then bam!
A few weeks into French class here in the city. the teacher is very good. really cares about each person learning the language. I have noticed that I have started to hear this voice in my head singing the language like a song this week. For the first time since I started really studying the language, which began in earnest last march at that retched fucking school in Miami, I’ve noticed that I am now starting to subconsciously translate things I hear in English on the street throughout my day into French; just for fun. this is what we do when we are children, when we are learning our own native language (our own native language.... that's redundant isn't it?). And now my subconscious mind is doing it in French. this a good thing. I commented the other day in class that French is the Mt. Everest of languages. There is nothing logical or practical or that makes sense about this language phonetically. These people were just fucking crazy when they developed this language amongst themselves. Just off in left field all on their own... But I will master it. I can see that now. I am getting it.
It is so beautiful. if you could just hear what this number sounds like in French: “six-cent-soixante-seis.” 676. just fucking beautiful and its just a number. Its pure poetry.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
Last night in New York
Our last night in NYC, Dasher tells me that we have to attend a movie premier of a film he’s in that he shot over last summer. we hop a cab and head to the club. But first he wants to get out and grab some cigars. Then we hit a pizza stand at 55th and seventh I think. I look up and we’re standing right in front of Madison square fucking Garden. i take a bite of my pizza. “God its fucking cold here man.” “this isn't cold man. You should’ve been here in the winter. That was cold.” “Well that's probably true, but I'm still cold now. Dude I want to play Madison square Garden.” “You will my brother. You will. But now we’re so late. We gotta get a cab.” Dasher is trying to flag a cab down with his right hand with a slice of pizza dangling out of it. a cigarette dangling from his left.
We get to the premier and we get these vip wrist bands. The hostess assumes I am part of the cast of the movie. So she ushers me to this red carpet and puts me in front of this back drop along with Dasher and a few of the other actors. And all these people start taking our photos. I played along as if I were in the movie. The whole night all these people are asking me what part I played. I didn't even know what the film was about. So I just made stuff up. “Yes, uh, actually I play the guy in the hotel scene... you know the one...” That's the thing about us right now. Everyone knows they recognize you, but they just can’t place you yet. They’ve seen you, but aren't sure where. So you tell them you're a famous actor and they think you're a famous actor. I could get away with saying whatever I wanted. Which was fun. Not the whole time. There were a few people who knew who I was so I had to be me, shake hands and all, but for the most part I could be whoever I wanted to be. As we drank more and more free vodka, the stories became more and more insane. After about two hours, Dasher is introducing me as the writer of the film. It was hilarious. “But I recognize you... are you sure you're not an actor?” “O.k. you win. I'm an actor. you got me....” Every one was pitching ideas to me, the writer of the movie. And I was drunk, just trying to maintain my coordination at that point while attempting to look as though I was listening intently to them.
The acting world is so different than the musician’s world. They're all so damn friendly and open with one another. I would hate to be an actor. I talked with a lot of them and their whole world is based on getting auditions so they can get parts. It’s a tough biz. They can’t just pick up a guitar and go get a gig at some local venue or cut an album like we can. They wait and they wait for good parts, any part, and in the meantime they are waiters in restaurants or work in shops. Or the hated dinner theatre or soap opera bits. Its not easy. Dasher went with me to one of my meetings so we could hit dinner afterwards. I was meeting with this company from France about French radio promo for sleep with you. I introduce him and the guy asks him if he is in the band. He says, “No. I'm an actor, which loosely translates to ‘I'm a waiter.’”
The girls and hangers on were plentiful that night. girls love actors almost as much as they love rock stars. Especially if you were an out of work actor with a half full bottle of free vodka and a good story about your last stage play....
Its 3:49 AM now. We’re in the back of a limo driving around the city. I'm sitting in the back seat typing on my trusty beat up laptop. Dasher is in the seat across from me balling some chick we picked up at the premier. He is wasted. We are both wasted. He looks up at me. “You sure you don't want some of this dog?” he asks me, pointing to the girl beneath him. “Dude, no thanks. My wife would kill me.” He swigs from his bottle, looks at the girl beneath him who is just as wasted as we are, and then up at me. “You're not even married Fishy! You're a freak!” he says. “Dude please. Respect my wife man. Please.” “Dude you're such a freak. But I love it!” he says. Looks down at the girl. “Fishy here hasn’t had sex in twenty fucking years because he's saving it for this dream woman of his. Isn't that fucking funny?” he asks her. “I think its romantic,” she slurs and bobs her head over to look at me with this coy smile. ‘Chicks love a married man. The only thing they like more than a married man is a man who isn't married but acts like he is,’ I type. “Fishy seriously man, don't fucking write about this in your fucking diaries man. I know what you're doing right now.” he laughs, “Stop it man.” He looks down at the girl, “Fishy is a writer. He writes down everything he does. If he takes a shit he writes about it...” he laughs. “I thought you were an actor.” the girl slurs with this confused look on her face. “I am. I'm studying how to be a writer for the next part I'm playing. It’s a Matt Damon and Ben Affleck movie. Its going to be big. I have to play a writer.... its like good will hunting part two or something...” I look back to my laptop screen. Dasher starts laughing uncontrollably. “Oh my fucking God Fishy. You’re fucking classic man. How did you land that part man?!” he says, playing along. “Come here and kiss Rita dude. Isn't she pretty?” “Its Rena,” the girl laughs. “My name is Reeeeena.” “Rena you are so beautiful. You know how beautiful you are,” he says to her and they start kissing again. I take a swig from one of the bottles of Sky vodka we confiscated from the premier party. I keep writing. The city lights whiz by us.
Dasher sits up all of a sudden. Its about 4 am now. “God I'm fucking hungry. Fishy are you hungry?” he asks me. “I'm never hungry man. But I'm drunk. So I could eat.” “Lets get Greek food then. Dude I know the best fucking Greek restaurant in New York. C'mon lets go there...” he says. So off we go to this Greek restaurant that just happens to be open, like everything in New York, at 4 in the morning. Lamb chops, mint jelly. Grape leaves. Red wine. Too much red wine. From there it gets kind of hazy. Next thing I know we’re in the limo again. The girl is passed out on the seat across from us. I'm on one side puking out my window. Dasher is on the other side of the limo puking out his window. “Oh my God dude I'm so wasted.” “God man. Me too.” “Isn't New York awesome dude?!” he says between hurls out his window. “Yeah dude. New York is awesome... this is the life.” I'm looking at all the beautiful lights whizzing by with blurry eyes in between throwing up, my head dangling out of the window. “Dude this place is so beautiful.” I woke up the next day about one in the afternoon with a killer headache. Just in time to catch my flight back to Miami....
Our last night in NYC, Dasher tells me that we have to attend a movie premier of a film he’s in that he shot over last summer. we hop a cab and head to the club. But first he wants to get out and grab some cigars. Then we hit a pizza stand at 55th and seventh I think. I look up and we’re standing right in front of Madison square fucking Garden. i take a bite of my pizza. “God its fucking cold here man.” “this isn't cold man. You should’ve been here in the winter. That was cold.” “Well that's probably true, but I'm still cold now. Dude I want to play Madison square Garden.” “You will my brother. You will. But now we’re so late. We gotta get a cab.” Dasher is trying to flag a cab down with his right hand with a slice of pizza dangling out of it. a cigarette dangling from his left.
We get to the premier and we get these vip wrist bands. The hostess assumes I am part of the cast of the movie. So she ushers me to this red carpet and puts me in front of this back drop along with Dasher and a few of the other actors. And all these people start taking our photos. I played along as if I were in the movie. The whole night all these people are asking me what part I played. I didn't even know what the film was about. So I just made stuff up. “Yes, uh, actually I play the guy in the hotel scene... you know the one...” That's the thing about us right now. Everyone knows they recognize you, but they just can’t place you yet. They’ve seen you, but aren't sure where. So you tell them you're a famous actor and they think you're a famous actor. I could get away with saying whatever I wanted. Which was fun. Not the whole time. There were a few people who knew who I was so I had to be me, shake hands and all, but for the most part I could be whoever I wanted to be. As we drank more and more free vodka, the stories became more and more insane. After about two hours, Dasher is introducing me as the writer of the film. It was hilarious. “But I recognize you... are you sure you're not an actor?” “O.k. you win. I'm an actor. you got me....” Every one was pitching ideas to me, the writer of the movie. And I was drunk, just trying to maintain my coordination at that point while attempting to look as though I was listening intently to them.
The acting world is so different than the musician’s world. They're all so damn friendly and open with one another. I would hate to be an actor. I talked with a lot of them and their whole world is based on getting auditions so they can get parts. It’s a tough biz. They can’t just pick up a guitar and go get a gig at some local venue or cut an album like we can. They wait and they wait for good parts, any part, and in the meantime they are waiters in restaurants or work in shops. Or the hated dinner theatre or soap opera bits. Its not easy. Dasher went with me to one of my meetings so we could hit dinner afterwards. I was meeting with this company from France about French radio promo for sleep with you. I introduce him and the guy asks him if he is in the band. He says, “No. I'm an actor, which loosely translates to ‘I'm a waiter.’”
The girls and hangers on were plentiful that night. girls love actors almost as much as they love rock stars. Especially if you were an out of work actor with a half full bottle of free vodka and a good story about your last stage play....
Its 3:49 AM now. We’re in the back of a limo driving around the city. I'm sitting in the back seat typing on my trusty beat up laptop. Dasher is in the seat across from me balling some chick we picked up at the premier. He is wasted. We are both wasted. He looks up at me. “You sure you don't want some of this dog?” he asks me, pointing to the girl beneath him. “Dude, no thanks. My wife would kill me.” He swigs from his bottle, looks at the girl beneath him who is just as wasted as we are, and then up at me. “You're not even married Fishy! You're a freak!” he says. “Dude please. Respect my wife man. Please.” “Dude you're such a freak. But I love it!” he says. Looks down at the girl. “Fishy here hasn’t had sex in twenty fucking years because he's saving it for this dream woman of his. Isn't that fucking funny?” he asks her. “I think its romantic,” she slurs and bobs her head over to look at me with this coy smile. ‘Chicks love a married man. The only thing they like more than a married man is a man who isn't married but acts like he is,’ I type. “Fishy seriously man, don't fucking write about this in your fucking diaries man. I know what you're doing right now.” he laughs, “Stop it man.” He looks down at the girl, “Fishy is a writer. He writes down everything he does. If he takes a shit he writes about it...” he laughs. “I thought you were an actor.” the girl slurs with this confused look on her face. “I am. I'm studying how to be a writer for the next part I'm playing. It’s a Matt Damon and Ben Affleck movie. Its going to be big. I have to play a writer.... its like good will hunting part two or something...” I look back to my laptop screen. Dasher starts laughing uncontrollably. “Oh my fucking God Fishy. You’re fucking classic man. How did you land that part man?!” he says, playing along. “Come here and kiss Rita dude. Isn't she pretty?” “Its Rena,” the girl laughs. “My name is Reeeeena.” “Rena you are so beautiful. You know how beautiful you are,” he says to her and they start kissing again. I take a swig from one of the bottles of Sky vodka we confiscated from the premier party. I keep writing. The city lights whiz by us.
Dasher sits up all of a sudden. Its about 4 am now. “God I'm fucking hungry. Fishy are you hungry?” he asks me. “I'm never hungry man. But I'm drunk. So I could eat.” “Lets get Greek food then. Dude I know the best fucking Greek restaurant in New York. C'mon lets go there...” he says. So off we go to this Greek restaurant that just happens to be open, like everything in New York, at 4 in the morning. Lamb chops, mint jelly. Grape leaves. Red wine. Too much red wine. From there it gets kind of hazy. Next thing I know we’re in the limo again. The girl is passed out on the seat across from us. I'm on one side puking out my window. Dasher is on the other side of the limo puking out his window. “Oh my God dude I'm so wasted.” “God man. Me too.” “Isn't New York awesome dude?!” he says between hurls out his window. “Yeah dude. New York is awesome... this is the life.” I'm looking at all the beautiful lights whizzing by with blurry eyes in between throwing up, my head dangling out of the window. “Dude this place is so beautiful.” I woke up the next day about one in the afternoon with a killer headache. Just in time to catch my flight back to Miami....
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