Always Ballad

Okay, so Rosemary's Baby was not scary, not like The Exorcist, which is what I was expecting. It's one of those films that's constantly referenced in pop culture -- and a few times this past season on Mad Men -- so I thought it was about time to watch it. Over two hours later, my verdict is: meh. I'm sure it's a super classic and there's a lot to admire about it, but rewatching certain old movies is almost a chore. The archival stale wheat germ before you can move onto sugary summer fare like Despicable Me 2. Now that's a movie! I don't care if I'm trying not to overhype stuff, go see it. That and Sarah Polley's brilliant Stories We Tell were recent things that I'd highly recommend. Plus 20 Feet From Stardom if you're into that type of thing. Heck, here's my last three months of movie watching, in too many words.

Roman Polanski is a child sexual abuser, Orson Scott Card opposes same sex marriage, and George R.R. Martin probably has a few skeletons in his closet too. I was thinking today about the idea of boycotting art because of the creator. That would eliminate a wide swatch of consumables. A lot of great stuff comes from super fucked up people. I mean, I can't say I love David Choe's stuff always, but I do love following him, even if his interests and expressions are way off from my morals. Then again, what morals right? Excited to see Ender's Game!

But seriously, where do you draw the line?

I do this thing, where I'm always checking in on an old blog, Hipstomp, on the month that I'm currently at, weighed against his archives. It's one of my absolute all time top five blogs and I've probably re-read the whole thing like ten times over. Being in New York lends even more interestingness to Rain's posts. He blogs like I want to blog. I emailed him once, a few years ago, to see if he had an agent for his work in progress. I guess that project never got finished. Now he writes for a design magazine or something. I should try to see who we might know in common, so I can go gush/grovel at his feet.

Lately I've been trying to figure out a topic for a newsletter I can start. I saw a friend on Facebook follow The Skimm and hopped on a few months ago. Now I see articles about it everywhere and there's a weird uptick in newsletters. I'd been hoping to start a friend circle gossip one using Tiny Letter, but that idea requires people to tell me secrets they either a) don't have or b) won't divulge. So that project is out.

But I'm mulling over the idea of doing a Skimm-esque newsletter, perhaps for pop culture. It would take an intense amount of energy but I'm basically doing it already on some level. I just need to find some fellow heavy consumers and get on the ball. I think the key behind the newsletter resurgence is that you have a very tightly focused demographic to advertise to. Because that's where the money is right? Telling people what to buy. But under the cover of something else.

• A Daily Newsletter You'll Want To Actually Open (2012)
• Meet The Women Behind The Skimm, Your New Secret Weapon
• You Need To Know About: The Skimm
• Tour The West Village With The Skimm's Gorgeous Founders
• Roommates Quit Jobs At NBC To Help You Skim News Every Morning (2012)

Having this bike share thing is changing my life. I've walked to the subway exactly zero times. There's a rack of Citibikes half a block away and I just jump on one and zoom a mile down to the subway. It's super glorious. The entire last week I even got to places on time, or early! And it's even better in the city -- albeit more nerve wracking -- because when the subway lines aren't convenient, you just hop onto a bike and go. Traveling east to west has never been such a joy.

And on Saturday afternoon we rode bikes from JMZ's apartment in Bed-Stuy to Williamsburg. It was a short three mile ride and we arrived soon after Jenn and her friend, who drove. What I have noticed tooling around on a bike are the varying quality of the streets. I'm scanning everywhere for potholes, bumps, potential danger spots. All while trying to look around for traffic too. It's incredible how alert you have to be to survive, and I'm pretty sure I'm not even that good at being alert. I made a vow to myself to not ride a bike when tired or post-drinking. At least until I get on that helmet stuff. Then I'll drink, ride, and listen to Tupac on full blast. "Picture me rolling..." I'm going through a Tupac phase for some reason right now. I hope it ends soon so I can return to regularly scheduled programming.

Also this past weekend, we went out dancing two nights in a row, both until super late. The line for Le Poisson Rouge was down the block and they weren't letting guys in shorts in so I chose to scoot home, change, and then get back out. It's possible to do this because things don't close in New York, I love it. So back on the scene at twelve thirty and then dancing till four. It was an absolute hot box, like everyone was just drenched through.

But that heat was nothing compared to our sauna the next night, at a place called Tender Trap. We didn't get there until two thirty but it was still packed, smelled like what you'd expect it to smell like, and sweat was literally dripping off my elbow at certain points. The music was all booty rap with overtures of late Nineties jams, and if it wasn't so late we probably would have looked for other options. I loved it ten minutes in though, as it was grimy but super fun.

The summer is for dancing, it's true.