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THE_BRIGHT_GRAY_LANDS


                                              January  3, 2007
                                              February 9, 2007
New York in winter is all
gray tree branches and dark
stone, but here and there                I've got this feeling
a fire escape sparkles with              that there's a lot to
strands of colored lights.               be said, a lot that's
                                         worth writing, and now
   Staying in a place by the             is when it should be
   Marcy Ave stop, the trains            done before it all
   on the el bother us not at            fades from memory.
   all... but the store across
   the street has put some               Don't know where to begin.
   kids to work advertising
   New Year's horns.                     Shall I parade the places we went,
                                         the events attended
      This trip we spend                 the people we saw?
      more time off of
      the Bedford strip,                        And so, I postponed
      looking around the                        the task a month, so
      odd backstreets.                          only the highlights
                                                remain.
         Site specific art: plastic
         bags collected and attached
         to a chainlink fence facing
         the river: a mosaic of
         windsocks.

 Out for breakfest at
 a small place down under the
 Williamsburg bridge: "Pies            We walk down an alley,
 and Thighs", tucked away in           between two small
 the back of the "Rock Star Bar":      factories, to look at   A view of
 A gray concrete hole-in-the-wall      the waterfront.         Manhattan
 with an absurdly good style of                                across the
 post-hippie-hipster food.                A chinese dragon     East River.
 I order the "hash", which is a           statutte stands
 facinating pile of miscellanious         on a small pylon.        The bridge,
 meats -- leftovers from other                                     looming on
 dishes.                                  A Hasid hides            the left.
                                          around the corner
     Moto: a narrow wedge                 flipping through
     shape cafe/bar with                  a stack of polaroids.
     mediterranean cusine.
     A small jazz band plays
     something like ragtime,
     set-up just inside the
     front door on the point
     of the wedge.  Dark,         Returning to the Bay Area,
     exposed brick walls,         I go to a "KZSU reuninon",
     barred windows under the     and discover that one of
     el tracks... the story       the old guard is now living
     goes that this was once      off in Williasmburg... when
     a speakeasy, and we don't    his wife hears where we
     doubt it.                    were staying, she
                                  immediately begins telling
                                  me about Moto... I gather
                                  that was the location of
                                  their first date.



  Walking across the Williamsburg
  bridge... a view of the empire
  state building lined up between the
  two towers of the sugar factory on                The Bedford Street
  the river, a steep diagonal chute                 strip is much the
  running between them.                             same, though sadly
                                                    The Fixx is gone,
                                                    or at least radically
                              EAST_OF_THE_EAST      scaled back into
                                                    a record store.
                            There's a new,
                            really good,            We spent some time at
                            vegan-asian place.      the respectable
                                                    "Reader's" cafe.

                                           The Form Fit Custom Girdle Factory
                                           (aka "hipster shopping mall")
                (January 14, 2007)         had only changed only slightly

  The place at Marcy Ave is a                        Without thinking about
  sublet (all praise craigslist):                    it, I ordered *another*
  an excellent little apartment,                     Soy Latte, which I see is
  complete with stereo, DSL line,                    what I was drinking there
  and a pair of cats:                                several years ago. It's
                                                     not my usual, but some
  The older white male                               quirk of environment
  Bowie and the young                                (menu layout?) steered
  black female Iman.      This sinuous little        me into the same groove.
                          beast won't leave
  The apartment           leave me alone:
  leaves me with
  the funny                    Dangerbaby repeatedly
  impression                   comments: "You little
  that it's                    hussy!"
  set-up like a
  movie set for
  an urban pad...

  Or maybe it's              A small place on Grand St,
  just me being              open late (Royale Records,
  hyped up about             I think):  I look for excuses
  "authenticity".            to buy things, and pick up
                             some George Antheil vinyl
                             and a few zines, including
                             Cometbus #50.

                                                  A cover story in
                                                  Cometbus: "New York
                                                  Bookstore Round-up".
                                                  I read through it
                                                  immediately.

                                                  I almost tossed it aside
                                                  after an inane Dave Eggers
                                                  dig (the new Gotham
                                EGGING_ON         bookstore "reeks of
                                                  privilege and McSweeny's"),
                                                  but luckily I persevered
                                                  and learned of "The Thing",
                                                  up in Greenpoint...

                    "The Thing" is seriously            We stalk up the
                    packed, definitely a                main drag of
While I was         place to go looking for             Greenpoint, in
there, a            vinyl, but I end up at              a hurry lest we
group of            the mystery/sf shelves,             miss the Thing's
six, six            jockeying for space with            closing hour...
foot tall           a gray haired lady who
black men           seems to be after Andre             The sheer scale of
entered the         Norton books.                       New York overwhelms:
store and                                               this is an authentic
very seriously         (I already had a stack           neighborhood, a
walked single-         of Andre Norton Ace              pre-car holdover;
file into              Doubles stashed in my            like San Francisco's
the tiny               luggage, checked out             Mission Street, but
vinyl room             of the old Brenner               it runs on for miles,
in the back,           collection.)                     and it's not the only
where they                                              such strip.
immediately             I settle on the two
began a                 volume hardcover set
careful                 of "The Rivals of
examination             Sherlock Holmes"
of records.             (facimiles from the
                        Strand and so on).
Without a
doubt:                     I wince at the thought
Turntablists.              of adding this much
                           weight to the luggage,
  Supposedly               but if it has to be...
  there's a stash
  of vinyl down
  in the basement
  as well: I had
  no time to
  look.  And I
  was warned
  to skip the
  idea of flying
  out of town in
  a few days if
  I got started
  down there.



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