VALERIE

OK, so I don't know that her name was really Valerie. I mean, I only have that name in my head because of the Zutons song "Valerie," which has taken hold of my heart and mind. So anyway. But I imagine her name was Valerie, so- Yeah.

Yesterday, I met the greatest lady in the world. I'd gone to my 11:30am dentist appointment (ALSO, I HAVE RECEDING GUMS!! WHAT THE FUCK!??!?!), and I walked into the office and removed my headphones. Suddenly, a mid-50s African-American lady with graying braids appears beside me. In her hand is a small, compact, shiny silver object.

"Did you drop this?" she asked.

I looked down- IT WAS MY CELL PHONE. "I been chasing after you for blocks," she said with a giggle, "But you had those damn earphones on!" A small boy- let's called him Roger- appeared at her side and smiled. I was so grateful and charming and in love with Valerie and Roger that I stammered. I didn't have any word to express to them how nice they were and how 99% of New Yorkers would have seen me drop my phone and would have walked on thinking 'Douchebag.'

"Thank you SOOOOOO MUUUUUUUUCH," I finally spit out. "Oh my god. Thank you SOOO MUCH." Perhaps predicting that my next line was going to be "Have a great day, you angelic people," Valerie said, "OK, time to take my grandson for a milkshake" and disappeared.

Valerie. Roger. Kindness. Milkshakes. When I left the office later, listening to "Lost in the Supermarket" by The Clash and watching almost-pretty-looking clouds of pollen waft through the air, I thought how truly bad-ass Valerie is. If I ever seen her again, I'm going to kiss her square on the lips. If anyone sees her, warn her.

Have a good weekend! KEVIN.

Invisible Touch

Guess who the entire clan is going to see in September?!?

Family outing to the Genesis Reunion Concert! I will be the youngest person there by AT LEAST ten years. It's alright though. The look of sheer joy on my father's face will get me through it. That and the fact that I had every song in the bands' anthology memorized at the age of eleven; due to overexposure. I seriously spent hours in the car during the early 90s with nothing but the "We Can't Dance" cassette as a soundtrack. There is a song entitled "Jesus He Knows Me" in which Phil Collins pretends to be a televangelist who cheats on his wife...with a guy! Bet you guys don't remember that one, huh? I can only hope it's part of the set list...

Summer Breeze...Makes Me Feel Fine....

Please Note: this post is a response to Kevin's. (see below)
Unlike my co-blogger, I like the rest of the population wait with bated breath for the mercury to rise. I love summer. Now that I am leaving the sweltering, humid, tourist-ridden inferno that is the the District of Columbia in July- I'm going to love it even more! I'm going to be near the ocean again! Hurrah!Though please let me firmly state, I will NOT be dressing like Mischa Barton. I have taste. And Facial Expressions.
5- Pirates of the Caribbean: Um, this is certainly NOT in my top five. I loved the first one- but honestly- the 2nd one was- how shall I put this? NOT GOOD. Scoff all you want, I'm replacing this with Harry Potter. Though I do enjoy Johnny Depp...
4- The True Colors Tour-
My phone phone really does ring to Erasure. Oh how I love them. I will suffer through hours on end of mesh tank tops to hear those boys sing. If they sing STOP! I might die. And I wonder why the majority of my male friends are gay... even the gays might not know that song. Le Sigh.
3-The Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest
This has to be The Black Widow's year, right? I mean, Kobayashi has to lose eventually. I really love Coney Island. For both the Steeple Chase and the Custard. And the cross-section of America which it attracts. This is also the first 4th of July in 4 years upon which I do not have to serve Stars and Stripes Margaritas and Burritos. Wheeeeeee.
2-Kevin's Birthday
First of all, I'm 26 and I've live to tell the the tale. Second, Kevin's birthday is not just fun for Kevin, it's fun for all! (though I think his post may be the first and last time anyone refers to him as "badass", no?) The first time I celebrated Kevin's birthday was 1997; and I had just gotten off a plane from Bavaria. I got him an asparagus cookbook in German. Cut to last year: I know this is not the cultural touchstone it once was (shame on you America)- but who wouldn't want to be friends with Kevin after they saw THIS:
Am I right, or am I right?
1-MONTAUK- oh god, I truly can't wait. The Beach. The pancakes. The Margarita in a Bucket. The funny thing is Kevin loves the beach, but remains truly terrified of the ocean. At least once a year he interrupts my singing-to-Justin-Timberlake-while-reading-trashy-magazines-and soaking-in-the-vitamin-D solace to grip my arm and yell "OH LEIGH- They are SO FAR. this makes me NERVOUS!" and the we watch our friends splash in the waves until they return, when Kevin starts breathing again. True Story about Montauk: I once promised everyone that if they would go to the pool with me then Cynthia Nixon would be there: And she WAS. (wearing birkenstocks and a cover-up from Chicos no less) It's a seaside wonderland.
-L

Cruel, Cruel Summer

This past weekend was New York's first real chance to stetch its legs, throw open its windows, and drink in the merciful warmth of summer. It was high-70s/low-80s for two or three days in a row, and the fashions shifted (apparently everyone this summer will dress like Mischa Barton- You heard it here first), the moods improved, and everyone set their minds on the coming few months to be fun and delightful.

Well, not me. I hate summer. I god damn motherfucking HATE summer. It's hot, I'm uncomfortable constantly, I don't tan well, and I basically never stop sweating until Thanksgiving. I know that heat and sun and pollen feel nice to, like, 90% of people, but I ain't one of them. I'm a fan of snow, rain, and biting wind. Needless to say, this first weekend of what, for me, amounts to crippling discomfort has left me a little peeved. In order to try and lift my spirits during this heinous time of year, I decided to make a list of the five most exciting things that will happen between Memorial Day and Labor Day 2007:

5) Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End May 25th
The conclusion to the greatest trilogy in movie history- suck it, you fucking Hobbits- has me so excited that I might get on line at the Union Square Stadium 14 right now. Look at this photo of Chow Yun Fat. I'm going to pass out. Seriously. I need to go in costume.

4) The True Colors Tour June 18th
My dear friend Matt the Great has thankfully spearheaded the attendance effort of what will be the gayest concert of all time, bar none. Radio City will be awash in gin, poppers, and sleeveless t-shirts. (Most thrilling part? My dashing co-blogger, she who loves Erasure so much that she made it her ringtone, will be there too!)

3) The Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest July 4th
OMFG!! The rematch between Takeru Kobayashi and Joey Chestnuts?!?!?! I'M GOING TO EXPLODE. (Backstory- Last year, there was this weird xenophobic tension about the reigning champ, who happens to be Japanese, barely eeking out a victory over the American challenger. It was really odd, and the Roommate got into a fight regarding her sun parasol, and then Katie got into a fight with some toothless woman at the ATM. It was a heady day.) Also, Sonya "The Black Widow" Thomas. I miss her so bad. I can't wait to be sweltering in the heaven of Stillwell Avenue.

2) My Birthday August 17th
Pro: I love to be the center of attention.
Con: I'm turning 26.
Pro: I am totally badass and any chance to raise a glass to me should be taken with relish.
Con: TWENTY GOD DAMN SIX. OH MY FUCKING JESUS.
Pro: Superbad comes out on my birthday, and it looks (pause for emphasis) Deeeeelightful.
Con: Oh my god. I'm turning 26. Oh my god. I have acheived nothing. I need a drink. Oh, holy fuck.

1) Montauk Every chance I get
While I am a cynical, hard-bitten cunt when it comes to the summer months, there are truly few pleasures in life as kick-ass as taking the crew out to Montauk for a long weekend. Somewhere between rum in the gazebo, lobsters on the pier, and panic in my heart as assholes go too far out in the ocean, I stop minding that the sun is inserting tiny vials of melanoma into my body, and I have a totally amazing, inspirational time.

All right. That's all I have to say. I'm perspiring. I'm going to ice myself down. I'll be myself again when it dips below 40.
xoxo KEVIN

A Miracle of Modern Science

When they figured out how to put calcium in my Tropicana, I rejoiced. When they started fortifying cookies with iron I thought, why not? but now the "I'm too lazy to eat things that are actually good for me" trend may have reached its' zenith. I was MYOB-ing in Target yesterday-when what to my wondering eyes should appear- but Diet Coke Plus. According to it's maker this is "Everything you love about Diet Coke, plus several essential nutrients you want and your body needs." I tried it. (Obviously) And it tastes just like the old Diet Coke Wow! They put vitamins in my super-artificial chemical filled calorie free sparkling cola product! We might not be able to cure cancer, but we can make Diet Coke good for you! Or you could just go crazy and you know; swallow a multi-vitamin.

Sweet n' Sour

SWEET- "Ace of Cakes"
It's a funny thing, how much I enjoy the Food Network. My culinary specialties include boiling water and placing things in the toaster oven. My taste buds skew to items you generally stop ordering when you are too old for the childrens' menu. And yet... I adore Iron chef, I like it when Marc Summers tells me about the history of taffy, and I've even watched Bobby Flay attempt to "out -BBQ" people. My new favorite piece of Food TV is Ace of Cakes. Duff and the staff of Charm city whip up some freaking incredible cakes: Taj Mahal ? done. A replica of your dog? easy. Panda sipping a Sapphire Martini??? (See Above)
Check it out.
SOUR- The US Supreme Court
Way to go. Today the justices (in a 5-4 decision) struck a blow for women's rights and health by upholding the ban on partial-birth abortion- even when a woman's life is in danger. Awesome. Also sour- Rachael Ray - No one needs to smile that much. (I can't love allll of the Food Network, after all)

This'll get worse before it gets better...

"Rehab" by Amy Winehouse is the most addictive song of 2007. (If you click on her name there and go to her official site, you can listen to it.) I'd been watching the Brit Awards with my friend Katie this past weekend when I heard it, and I was like, "Whuh? Come again?" See, I'd heard so much negative shit about Amy Winehouse that I kind of just assumed that I hated her (which is exactly what people do with Heather Mills, but I digress), but this song is infectious and smart and smutty and rockin'. Yesterday was my first big day of "Rehab"-session, but as we all know from sunburns and pulled muscles, it only starts to get really bad on Day 2. Watch out.

At World's End

With the shootings in Virginia and the madness and the violence in the world, it totally feels like an insane, unsafe place, right? It's that "End of the World" feeling. Ugh, I hate it. Anyway. This posting really has no point, but I just felt that all the awfulness in the world needed to be addressed, and, with the help of my good friend Charleston (see below), combatted:



AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!

xoxo KEVIN.

This was so good, I had to post on a Sat!

So. This cat grew up with a piano teacher. The teacher had many cats; but Nora was special. Nora took up the piano:


(NOTE: It is sheer coincidence that I have posted abut cats twice in one week. This should in no way be read as a reflection of my affection for cats, because, truly, I am and always will be a dog person. Thank you. )