Aliens and Rats and Girls

I have heard a lot of different speeches from various panhandlers, musicians, and other displaced, subway-riding bums, but what I heard yesterday as my friend Mike and I made our way to Union Square was the most bizarre yet. No one really talks on the subway, so whenever one begins a tirade asking for handouts, it's not hard to hear exactly what he, or she is saying. This particular gentleman began as most do, yelling some crazy jargon about God, the government, and the Apocalypse. I had my back toward his end of the train, and having heard similar things before, did not turn around. However, this man carried things a bit further, shouting that "he was an alien!" and that he brought a message from his home planet. He then proceeded to pull out a saxophone, and make a fast-paced series of squeaks and blips, what he called the "language of his planet." There was also a brief, yet terribly painful interlude of the Twilight Zone and Outer Limits theme songs.Thinking that this was a performance worthy of payment, he then made a plea to his fellow "travelers" that he needed earthly currency in order to return home safely. There was also some quip about taking Bush and Cheney with him when he left. A nice gesture, but it was still not winsome enough to overcome the annoyance of the pervious five minutes. As he left though the door near me, I saw that he was wearing antenna made out of wire. Yeah.

Later that evening, as Mike and I were enjoying some organic chocolate chip banana bread from the Union Square Green Market, a rat crawled right under our feet, as if neither one of us were sitting there. I said, rather nonchalantly, "Um, Mike, there's a rat under your foot," something I though I'd never say. But, in New York, one never knows. Eating organic banana bread in Union Square Park, after dark is not the best idea, that is if unless one wants to see the local "wildlife."

In other subway news, the ride home brought with it a very cinematic moment.
The scene: a crowded subway car.
A beautiful girl was stares pensively into empty space. Our eyes met briefly. We smile, if only slightly. I pretend not to steal glances out of the corner of my eye. The train arrives at my stop. It is hers too. She gets out first. I watch as she is swallowed by the undulating masses in the Times Square station.
If this were really a movie, we would randomly meet while browsing through books at the library, where we both make small talk about out mutual love for the short stories of Kleist- either that, or at a dog park.

Did You Know?

Did you know that in 1981, Honeytree released a holiday album entitled "Merry Christmas, Love Honeytree?"

I thought you might not.

It's Sunday Mornin', Y'all...

I'm not sure why I haven't written about this yet, but about four weeks ago, I found a new church. It's pretty nifty, and very small (not that I'm not used to small.) NYC Church (creative, I know) is a fledgling church, founded as an offshoot of another church in Portland, Oregon. Essentially, the pastor had had a heart for the the city, and recently felt that God was calling him to plant a church in the Battery Park area. (Yes, I go to church right next to Ground Zero.) So, he and his young family, and a bunch of others that felt called from that church uprooted from Portland, and moved to New York.
It's been pretty good so far, and it's been encouraging to get to know and fellowship with other believers. I've really felt welcome there, which is something I cannot say about some of the other churches I have visited here.
Ironically, we don't have our own building, and meet in a movie theatre. And yes, we have to set up and tear down the sound system each week. Oh, and there's coffee and donuts EVERY Sunday. Ha, ha.

All the World Might Be a Stage (but it more than likely isn't playing something I want to see)

That's the bad thing about plays; you usually can't walk out of them without getting noticed. In movie theatres, which are often designed for people to come and go, one cannot disturb the performance, save blocking another's view for a few moments. After all, it's actors are merely projections. Also, while live theatre generally limits bathroom and concession stand use to the intermission, coming and going during a film does not carry the same stigma that the same type of movement would in a theatrical performance. In other words, should things turn sour on the big screen, one can leave gracefully. It is usually not so in theatre.
I seem to have been having some bad luck with plays lately. All of the one's I've seen in New York this year have taken, at some point or another, that aforementioned sour turn. And no, none of the three had an intermission. These were a mixture of plays: two being Fordham productions, and the other, an off-Broadway show. From gratuitous and sexualized murder scenes, beyond-bawdy comic songs, and insanity coupled with incest, these plays left you with a bit of a sour taste in your mouth (the latter two plays were not nearly as bad as the first, which in addition to being the most unsavory, was poorly written and weakly directed).
I wish I could have walked out on them, or not have gone in the first place. (Thankfully all three plays together cost roughly $25.00, which in New York, is a steal!) However, one cannot always look into the exact details of the show before attending. I guess I will try to be much more cautious in the future, or at the very least sit near the aisle to make a speedy and unobtrusive exit.

Halloween: A Dialogue

I know it's a day late, but here's a little something. I'll be back with more real updates soon. There have just been a few more important things going on of late.


Halloween: A Dialogue*

Male: So what are you dressed as?

Female: Oh, I'm LeBron James.

Male: Oh really? I don't ever recall Mr. James wearing garter hose and pumps.

Female: Duh. That's because I'm a sexy LeBron James.


*All events described within are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, or events is purely coincidental.