i love the building in new york, especially these buildings that seem to run for miles on end. stacked side by side with no space in between. the only thing that makes them all different building on the same block is the different colors from building to building, a different address, different building name, one might be 1o floors, the next 12, but they all have molded together to be one bigass building making up a city block. nowadays we’d just throw up one big block long chunk of beige boringness and call it a day. “how cheap can we get it made for?” that becomes the modivation for whether or not to do something. i hate that shit.

kelly, pam and patrick walking around the gallery district looking for an open gallery, but they were all closed.

at least that’s what all the articles in the windows of the place said. i had no idea it was such a famous place when i saw it, i just saw a great sign that needed to be recorded. we didn’t get to go in because the place was closed, but just like the sign, it looked pretty sweet inside too. maybe even sweet enough to make me start drinking martini’s again.

having just lost our french bulldog buster we were on the lookout for french bulldogs everywhere we went...and we saw a ton of them. (so many we decided we couldn’t live without another french bulldog for very much longer. someone reminded us that there was a french bulldog themed bar so we knew had to check it out. we got there and the place was closed but we saw the dog was in the bar so we knocked and the lady let us in. the dog was great, as most french bulldogs are, but the lady was crazy , as many of their owners are. the bar was an asian sake bar. call me crazy but i expected something french. i got to pet the dog and the lady told us to stop back in a n hour or so when they opened and we’d sit and drink sake with her and talk dogs. no thanks. i already got to pet the dog ...and i didn’t have to drink sake or talk to the crazy lady.

i could live in new york for the jazz alone. i opened the paper to check for shows and saw names of famous jazz dudes i thought were long since dead. it blew my mind. bobby hutcherson?!? how can he still be alive and why hasn’t he come to minneapolis??? we got tickets to bobby’s show and checked him out. he played at some new fancy, stuffy  joint which sort of set us back a bit. it wasn’t the old dingy historic new york jazz joint i haped for, but it didn’t matter once he came out and started playing. what a rock star. the way he wound up and swung those mallets was badass. he made that vibraphone look as cool as any electric guitar in the hands of some rock and roll dude. amazing stuff. seeing a living legend like that was pretty awesome...there aren’t many of them still alive so it was an honor to see this one live and in person.

this was the pizza joint right around the corner from our hotel and it came in handy one night for a killer slice of mushroom. there is nothing like a folded over slice of real new york pizza as you walk down the street, nothing better.

just about every gas station i saw looked just like this one: all yellow cabs and no cars. pretty funny, but i guess that really is the ration of cabs to real cars in that city. that’s the way it should be.