This time around was different. NYC didn’t look like a playground of memories and possibilities more than an incorporated state. It was impossible to over look. Franchises are everywhere. St. Mark’s looks like an out door mall. Kim’s is going out of business. Dojo’s went out of business. There’s a Dunken Doughnuts on Bedford Ave. Gentrification stretched all the way out to Jefferson, or “East Williamsburg” or “Jefferson Town.”
We’re trying to move back to NY, but Jeremy said, “New York is not for families. Everybody that was around in our time moved to LA. I know it’s mad fake, but after a while of people smiling in your face, you start to feel happy. You just can’t take it seriously, but you can’t live there without a car.”
Watch Jeremy’s film After, here, inspired by our late friend Sho. He’s one of the two friends that I didn’t know had died. The other was a brilliant animator. Did some work for Kanye. He was self-employed and getting a lot of work, spending up to 20 hours in front of a screen, but a heart attack got him. I didn’t know him that well, but definitely was at his crib numerous times. We kicked it in NYC and San Francisco. He was just a nice generous person.
I was jet lagged for minute. I slept for three hours in the middle of sunny days. Going to bed late and waking up at six AM to say goodnight to the fam. This time around I wanted to click people, but I was timid. The human activity exploding on 125th street could be a series of plays played out at the same time on the same stage. There’s a crackhead sleeping or dead on the sidewalk. He took his shoes off and put them neatly next to him while his bare feet enjoy the light. A black transvestite in a purple bra and blond wig stands next to a crew of white kids chomping pizza after a late night out. A Latino clan made up of a mother, father and five kids wait to cross the street. The mother is on the phone complaining about what somebody did on purpose, but won’t admit it, “That bitch knew what the fuck she was doin’. A white aspiring rapper in a Kango poses for press photos near the subway. Next time.
P.S. I’m an over-the-hill-complainer.
P.P.S. Almost forgot, updates here.Tags:culture, letter from the editor, nyc, part 1