Later that night...

After The Distinguished Wakamba, Jenny, Fast Rai and I hit the Collins Bar and then of course later, the original quintessential NYC dive bar, Rudy's.

The Distinguished Wakamba

In search of the dive-y-est NYC dive bar, I've seen the inside of many a beer soaked bar. This bar, The Distinguished Wakamba, is not beer soaked, not dark, not dingy, but it sure is a dive. It's just a little too close to the bus station, the bartenders barely speak english (spanish is preferred), and the decor is a scary Gilligan's Island meets addict-under-the-bridge. Of course I've been here quite a few times just to be sure it is as bad as I suspected the last time. It is.

Cousin Jill

My cousin Jill (not pictured) works as crew on yachts. Every now and then (about once per year) she comes to NYC. This year we got to hang out two nights in a row. The second night we were entertaining her crewmates (pictured) as we hit a few touristy spots in NYC.


Then we went back to her current boat--a small vessel that only requires a crew of four--and I got the full tour. This (above) is the control room inside and below are the top-deck controls. We had the run of the ship that night and just hung out up top sipping champagne and catching up.

Bicycle Thief

This is going on my Broken Bike Blog for sure but I can't resist also putting it on my blog as well.

So I have this mild obsession with broken bikes. How do they get that way? Who breaks them? Who takes them? ... THIS GUY!!

This was on the Helmsley pedestrian tunnel on Park Ave in the middle of the day. I couldn't believe my luck. Here was someone walking down the street with a broken bike under their arm. So lucky. I pulled out my palm and snapped a few shots, this was the best.

I wonder where he's going from here? Where is the bike shop that deals in broken bike parts? If I had the time I would have followed him and found out.

Self Portrait

In the bathroom of my least favorite bar in all of NYC: Sweet & Vicious. Why I was there I have no idea.

Mazi's Wedding

I went to Mazi's wedding this night and was at one of only two non-jewish tables. It was my first ever Jewish wedding, and a Persian-Jewish wedding at that. The invitation said 7pm, so we were there at 7pm. Of course they put down 7pm because no one is going to show up until 8pm. No one except the gentiles, of course. Anyway it was a beautiful wedding. It started late and ended late. This was the setting at the table, what you can't see is the four-foot cneterpiece on each table.

Dragonfly

This was the craziest thing to happen to me in some time. Walking down 7th Ave after kung fu minding my on biz when a dragonfly starts coming right for me and before I can get out of the way... he lands right on my shirt just below my navel.
I ran through my head "Do they attack? They don't sting, I think they do bite, though. But he's just chillin on my shirt, sittin there rubbing his hands together all insect-like." No freakout, just watching and enjoying. It was furry almost all over with beautiful shades of brown and white spots. Big wings, probably 3.5 or 4 inches across. I pulled out my palm, shot a few pics, and he was still just sitting there like a big hair bug. I contemplated walking down the street with a dragonfly just slightly above my crotch... but after a moment's reflection thought that may not be the best course of action. Quick flip of the shirt and he flew straight up two flights.
Nice to meet you, too.

Beef On A Stick

It was some sort of Brazilian day in the city today. On Little Brazil (45th St btw 6th & 7th) they had a street fair that started there, turned up 6th Ave and went up 6th for a few blocks. Big ordeal whatever it was. This guy caught my eye. I stood in awe of this magnificent contraption for quite some time before being jostled by the crowd and had to keep moving. God Bless thos Brazilians for creating this beef roaster thing.

Rock n Roll

OK, this is going to be a really bad story. I mean, any story that starts out with "Rock n Roll" is going to be a bad one, especially if I'm the one writing it. But here goes anyway:
Wandering through Hells Kitchen on Sunday wondering what I'm going to do today. Up ahead I hear a guitar playing and a guy singing. Across the street there are a couple of people staring. I look ahead and see this guy, the guy in the picture above, facing them, playing his guitar and singing. He finishes up with a big windmill stroke on the strings, then another, and then a third and screams, "YEAH, ROCK N ROLL!!" and starts walking down the street.

By the time I catch up with him, guitar, studded leather and all, I see he has a mini-amp clipped to his belt and plugged into his guitar.

Yeah, Rock n Roll!