News of no interest whatsoever except to very close and patient friends and family members and maybe people with no life
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| WebJournal - The blog will set you free News of no interest whatsoever except to very close and patient friends and family members and maybe people with no life |
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Monday, July 21, 2003 Pam wanted to go see some obscure artist she likes that was playing in in Central Park today. It was an excruciatingly boring experience. We were there for hours, with a couple of godawful bands playing about three songs, punctuated by hours of waiting. So much waiting that I lost the little patience I have and before this Natasha Atlas girl reached the stage I just got up and came back home with Matteo in tow. I was not enjoying the music, I was not enjoying the people. We were in freakland, surrounded by weirdos, many of them stuck in the 60s. The worst was when a band started playing some techno-Arab music and a few people got up to dance. I use the term dance very loosely here. It was painful to watch. More than painful, it was irritating. This one guy with a great body but absolutely no idea what to do with it was one of the first ones to get up and subject the rest of us to his convulsions. There were plenty of girls too, and plenty of older women, doing what they probably learned at the three bellydancing classes they've taken. Now, I have nothing against people dancing. I don't care if they have zero rythm and zero grace if they are really into it and they are having fun. I actually like people who get lost in their own little dance. But really, if you are going to get up in the bright afternoon sun, with no alcohol as an excuse, and you are going to shake your hips and shoulders trying your damnest to be sexy, you'd better not look like you are running a high fever or counting the steps in your head. Also, I could not believe that in such a big crowd I could not find one mildly attractive male to latch my attention on. Not a single one! So it was the music, and the people, and soon it was the people with no sense of personal space invading my own space. I hate it when people I am not familiar with, or willing to get familiar with, get too near, when they touch me, when they are so close I can smell their breath. And I particularly hate it when they stick their feet in my face. I get very very annoyed and I can get violent too. So it was a good thing I left. On our way back I had a nice little chat with Matteo. Having him around does not feel as weird as I feared it might be. Although he does look a lot like his father, he is not a clone, and his personality is very different. I can be with him without being constantly reminded of Ghego. Not that I would mind that either. After all, I loved Ghego, and I still do. It's just that playing host to the 14 years-old of my high-school sweetheart, probably first love and certainly major adolescent obsession, is a rather bizarre experience, or so I thought. In reality the kid is endearing on his own terms. Right now it's almost 1:20 AM and he is exploding eggs in the microwave oven ... 12:36 AM
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