J'aime New York Encore

It's Saturday night and I'm on my way to Brooklyn to visit my friend. I enter the station for the D-train on 125th St in Harlem. I descend the stairs and as I make my way through the station, I see a young man with a split-level high-top fade with multiple parts cut in. I was kind of surprised because you don't see that everyday, well at least not since 1994. I make my way through the turnstile and I watch the young man as he joins his friends: 3 guys and 2 women. To my delight, I see that not only is the first young man proudly reclaiming the early 90s, but so are all of his friends, and it seems that his "crew" is much further along the devolution than he. Not only are they rocking the fresh old-school haircuts, but they also have the phat rope chains, the large-frame glass with no lenses, door-knocker earrings and a boom box blasting old-school tunes.

Ain't no half-steppin'

As I follow them to the platform, all I can do is hope that they are getting on my train.

They do.

I slowly make my way to their side to assure that I get a space in the same train as them. Upon entering the car, I position myself in seat directly facing them: close enough that I can clearly see them, but far enough away that I'm not imposing on their personal space. Certainly I wanted to keep watching them, but I was more interested in observing the reactions of the other passengers as they got on the train.

Chiggity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self

They're in a world all their own: dancing and jamming to D-Nice in total disregard of the presence of others. At each stop, I watch the faces of the arriving passengers to gauge their reactions. But other than a few double-takes and smiles of admiration and recollection, no one seems to pay them much attention.

That's why I love New York: people are free to do and be whatever they want. There are so many odd and unique people in this city that the "normal" people can't be bothered to care, well as long as your weirdness isn't negatively impacting them.

The hip-hop troupe exited the train at West 4th. I was tempted to eschew my plans in Brooklyn and accompany my new-found friends on their journey. Not only was I dying to know where it was that they were going, but I was intrigued by the thought that at their destination, there would be probably many more people just like them.

I Guess Art Really Does Imitate Life

I got the chance to attend Russell Simmons's book release party last week. My roommate who's tied into that scene brought me along. It was at this lounge called Stereo in the West Village. It was a very cool place. I had never been there before. The party itself wasn't all that spectacular (it was a Tuesday night after all), but it was definitely interesting, especially for a poor grad student who generally doesn't find himself in such circles. Russell Simmons was there meeting and greeting people and chatting about his new book, "Do You". I met him and shook his hand. I didn't say much. I just congratulated him on his new book. He's different in person than I would have imagined. He's extremely low-key, almost demure. Some people (famous or not) have a such a large presence regardless of their actual physical stature. When they walk into a room, you know it. Russell Simmons was not one of these people. He was just making his way through the crowd pleasantly greeting his guests. He was probably the most casually dressed person in the room. He's at a point in his career where he doesn't need to impress people anymore. If he wants to throw a party and show up in whatever he happened to be wearing that day, he's Russel Simmons. He can do that.

What was most interesting, however, was the crowd that showed up. My roommate is a publicist, so she gets invited to such things, and there was no shortage of other industry folk present: publicists, entertainment writers, fashion designers, etc. There were also several minor celebrities, but since I haven't owned a television in about three years, I didn't recognize any of them. But I was able to glean that there were people from TV shows like the Apprentice, America's Next Top Model, and MTV, among others. The place was full of beautiful people draped in impossibly trendy attire. Although I thought I was looking pretty hip that night, it was clear that no one else was impressed: "Oh you can't introduce me to someone famous? Yeah, you're not worth my time". But that didn't at all concern me. I was able to drink for free and spend a little time on the dance floor, and that's all I really needed.

The best part of the evening was when you exited the lounge, you immediately found yourself on a red carpet, replete with waiting paparazzi. Of course, I was no one special, but my roommate's friend, however, was of interest. So after not saying more than two words to me the whole evening, when she caught sight of the cameras, she shoved her purse in my hand so that she could run over and attend to her adoring fans. After striking no fewer then four poses, she grabbed her purse and thanked me. Although I was beginning to feel uneasy due to her sudden acknowledgment of my existence, fortunately she immediately returned to ignoring me completely as we walked to fetch a cab.

New York is a great city. There are so many almost surreal experiences that happen here on a daily basis. The parties and circles and attitudes that you watch everyday on television actually happen in real life, and it's interesting to sometimes be a fly on the wall and observe these things unfold.

J'aime New York

I live in Harlem... and I love it. There are so many really cool things to do in this city. For example, I just got back from a weekly live jazz set a few blocks from my place. Every Sunday night on 132nd street (between 7th and 8th) there's live jazz music on the bottom floor of a very unassuming brownstone. In addition to the great music, there are also cheap drinks and soul food. While I didn't get a chance to sample the food, it did look and smell very good.

This is the first time I've been and I don't know if this was a typical Sunday night, but a few interesting events transpired during the 2 hours or so that I was there. After finishing his set leading the band on the organ, the "Preacher", as he was called, brought to the front an older woman who was there celebrating her birthday with her grandson and his girlfriend. After coercing the crowd to stand and give the 82-year old woman a round of applause, he pulled out a crisp new $100 bill and forced it upon her despite her reservations. I was standing just next to where the woman was seated and as the night progressed, many people came up to her to wish her well. Over time, I began to wonder whether in fact it actually was her birthday. I think that the Preacher had simply misunderstood her and it would have been too awkward for her to say anything to the contrary (let alone give the money back).

Taking over the reigns at the organ, the next band leader invited a young Japanese woman to perform who "scatted" along with the band. She was pretty good and really got into it. I assume she had planned to perform that night, but it look like she was just another member of the audience. Upon completion of the song, the band leader offered her a warm "Arigato Gozaimas" with slight bow of the head as she returned to her seat.

Only in New York.

So all in all, it was really good music, no cover, a cool crowd, cheap drinks (by NY standards), and -- what looked to be -- good soul food. They do this every Sunday. I definitely plan on stopping by again sometime soon.