Stephanie Street

Saturday night was one of those epic shitshows that really really belong in sophomore year of college. A joint birthday party, 40 20-somethings crammed into a room fit for twenty with probably 10+ liters of booze and a really sweet karaoke machine and projection screen. And 10 liters of booze, $60 worth of Domino’s, a few games of Slap the Bag, a bunch of hoarse voices, a big hole in the wall, a cinged chunk of hair (yours truly, actually…), one kicked out partygoer with a groping problem, and 4 hours later, the party was winding down and everyone searched for their next location.

Judging from the description above, you might guess that the next location for most would be straight home. And you would be right. You might also guess that some casualties would be found as well. Not just dignity, but tangible things lost. You would be right again. A dear friend of mine lost her wallet. Making it all the way home without cash, credit card, or ID, said friend was seemingly unaware (or had forgotten) about this missing wallet until the next morning when she found a peculiar (and awesome!) facebook message from a complete stranger, basically saying that she had found my friend’s wallet on the street, next to a garbage can, and in a “drunken stupor” decided to pick it up, noting just how horrible it is to lose things like that. She lived in the LES, she said, and would my friend like to come pick it up tomorrow?

WOW. as much as we might be disgusted by facebook, and our use of it, sometimes, look at what it can do!! The address on my friend’s ID was from her parents’ house, no phone number, no way of getting a hold of her at all. Except for facebook! Amazing! My mind is blown! (yours too? yup.)

So my friend made the trek from the UWS to the LES (oh yes, the abbrevs make me sound like a real New Yorker, you know) for her wallet. And despite the post-karaoke fiesta being nearly unbearable, (as it was for pretty much all of us, I believe) I would imagine that this simple little mantra got her through the journey, “thank you, Mark Zuckerberg. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

 Only disappointment of the night: they didn’t have “Heart of the City” by Jay-Z in the karaoke book. With the birthday boy on the verses and me on the hook, oh dear, it would have been the highlight of EVERYONE’S night, that’s for sure. Damn. Maybe we’ll ask them to get it for next time. If we’re ever allowed back.

If there’s something inside that you’re wanting to say
Say it out loud it’ll be ok
I will be alright
I will be alright
I will be alright
I will be alright

Sunday nights as a real person are pretty terrible. The Beta Band helps.

I have a big fat crush on Stephen Curry. Duh.

Davidson. Wow.

A black man just offered me a Newport cigarette. teehee.

In fact, when he showed me what they were, he said, “they’re menthol, you’re not gonna want one of these.” As if to say, “white people don’t like menthols.”

But I was fiending, and my other option was a filterless Chesterfield from the security guy in my building. Intense.

I took the Newport. Defying racial stereotypes! (As usual.)

For anyone who might be wondering (even though I doubt any of you are), the title of my post “Another Day, Another Dollar” is NOT a reference to a lyric in the new Sheryl Crow song. In fact, I probably would never have even heard this song if it weren’t for the fact that WPLJ is on the radio in the bathroom of my office. Ok, that’s all. Carry on.

sidenote: WPLJ really might want to consider a new slogan. I think this one could be a winner:

95.5 PJL [done in that sign-songy voice]: Music to piss to [done in that deep radio man voice].

Just throwing that out there.

As I noted before, I saw ARETHA FRANKLIN at Radio City Music Hall on Saturday night. The second of two sold-out shows at Radio City, Aretha took the stage just as she should have: as a Diva (with a BIG D, for sure.) So many rhinestones. So much tulle. A BIG orchestra. My mom and I were in the 16th row, so seeing Aretha up that close, even aside from the music, was a breathtaking experience.

Highlights:

-”My Funny Valentine”: just beautiful

-”Respect”: Duh.

-A few duets (including a gospel tune) with a former Temptation. The gospel song really knocked me on my ass. I now know what people are talking about when they say seeing Aretha is akin to a religious experience. Her conviction is staggering.

-”Chain of Fools”: I think I like this song better than Respect. Killer song.

-Cissy Houston (Whitney’s mother) was one of the back-up singers. Oh wow, they look alike. That was wild.

-The way she exited the stage: She did it a few times, and each time got more and more adorable. The way she danced, her facial expressions…it was in those moments that you could REALLY see how much she was enjoying herself. She was just so…exuberant. And at over 60, exuberance is pretty impressive.

Lowlights:

-About halfway through the set, one of Aretha’s sons came on stage. Doing “Christian Hip-Hop”, this kid, who was probably in his mid-20’s, rapped non-sensical lyrics (sometimes off the beat) to mundane beats, and even worse than mundane hooks. If that weren’t bad enough, I’m pretty sure the last song he performed was called “One Mic”, a total NaS rip-off. The song was a combination between that and that Eminem song from 8 Mile. You know, the one where he talks about how he vomitted up his mom’s spaghetti. Exactly. I guess it’s kind of unfortunate for him that his mother is Aretha. So much expectation. But one of those expectations is that, as the son of the Queen of Soul, he might have some…uhhh…connections with top musicians? Maybe?

-”Chain of Fools”: Yes, also in the highlights, but Aretha didn’t do it like she used to. It was, I’m very sad to say, a little weak. She has less control. Less belting power. She actually used her HEAD VOICE. (Not just in this song, through the whole show.) Which was nice, and different, but I guess either she wants to tone it down or her voice can’t do what it used to. Either way, despite how amazingly kick ass this song is, it just wasn’t the same.

I hate to knock Aretha. But I’m just being critical. Overall, this show was incredible, for the whole experience of it, and also the jealous amazement I see when I tell my friends about it. HA.

For a much more benign and, admittedly, probably better written review, see the NYTimes review: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/24/arts/music/24aret.html

On a slow Monday, the mid-afternoon coffee is kind of essential. And as the coffee from the coffee machine in my office actually tastes like cardboard, a trip to the deli across the street was in order. As I waited for the cashier to make my iced coffee juuuust the way I like it, I heard the other cashier lightly humming, then starting to sing under her breath. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t thought of or heard that song probably since my days at summer camp, when songs like that were ubiquitous, almost mandatory, and kum-ba-yah-like sing-a-longs were scheduled as often as arts & craft sessions to make little animals out of sparkly pipe cleaners.

Delightful, yes. Until I remembered the lyrics to the second part, all about how the person was dreaming of their “sunshine”, but when they woke up, that person was gone. Which is, while a bit childlike, heartbreaking. Heartbreakingly childlike, if you will. And that’s exactly how the cashier sounded.

Still, the song took me back and made me smile, which is one of the entirely too many (or just enough?) reasons I love music. At the tail end of a day wasted in corporate boredom, it’s moments like that that really keep me going. Delightful.

…When my three-pointer dependent team can’t sink their threes.

…When it becomes painfully apparent for the umpteenth time this season that Duke is smaller and less aggressive under the basket than pretty much every team worth anything in the NCAAs.

…When I see DeMarcus Nelson’s face on the bench at the end of the game, all too aware of his tournament shortcomings, and his career over.

…When I think about all the gloating Duke haters out there.

…When I remember how good UNC looks right now. (yes, i know. i’m a hypocrite.)

That said, I still love the tournament and am most definitely still watching. (why oh WHY did I have to miss that Stanford-Marquette game? Oh yea, cause I saw Aretha instead. more on that soon.) 

But my focus has shifted. (Please, Andy Pettitte, recover quickly, we need you!)

Damn it, I spoke too soon.

15 out of 16 (94%) ain’t bad. (Fucking Arizona.)

It’s that glorious time of year again, my friends: NCAA March Madness. And day 1 winds down in truly stunning fashion.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Most of it has been fairly predictable (as a matter of fact, I am currently sitting at 100% in my pool-less bracket. awesome.) But HOLY SHIT, that Duke game nearly gave me a heart attack. Yes, I am a Blue Devil fan. Some of you may be disgusted. Yes, it’s just like being a Yankee fan, it’s easy to be a fan of a team that wins all the time, etc, etc. But I am ashamed neither of my Duke nor Yankee affiliation, so any haters can go cry about all the years they’ve gone without a championship. (Sorry…the venom that gets spit at me just has to come back out sometimes…)

Anyway, the fact is that the Blue Devils really DON’T win all the time, as has been evidenced in our past 3 tournament appearances. And tonight was, for a good deal of the game, all too reminiscent of last year, when Duke bowed out in the FIRST ROUND to VCU. Now, the Belmont team is NOTHING like VCU. No full court press, much scrawnier athletic black men (what few of them there were). But still, the scoreboard towards the end really had the adrenaline going. (I think I scared one of my roommates with all the cursing and screaming I did. oh dear.)

I found myself pacing the living room during timeouts, talking to myself, my roommates, anything that would listen, “Again? AGAIN?!?! No. No. This is not going to happen. NO WAY are we going to lose,” all the time very very cognisant of the fact that, yes, there is a fair chance that Duke COULD actually lose. TO AN UNATHLETIC, UNCOORDINATED, PRINCETON DERIVATIVE?! Jeez.

But then dear, dear Gerald Henderson (sigh) went coast to coast for the game winning basket, with that beautiful pacing and hesitation at the top of the key. Magical. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the nail biting and cursing didn’t stop until the clock showed 0.0, but that shot reminded me that YES, Duke actually IS a good basketball team. Whew.

Other observations:

-Marquette really better get their shit together if they’re gonna beat Stanford as I have picked them to. Dominic James is a baller and needs to start playing more like it.

-Male co-workers really don’t know what to do with a girl who’s actually interested in random tournament games. Really. It’s awkward.

-Yes, 100%. That’s RIGHT I picked Kansas St. A guy named Beasley beats a guy named Mayo any day. Come on.

-Does Bob Knight think he’s better than the suit jacket and tie? Yes, apparently he does.