After working the grand closing of Captain Lawrence Brewing Company's Pleasantville location and gearing up for the new Elmsford location, I got a text from PremRock to come down to the city on a Sunday for a little Sunday Funday.
He was performing at a cancer benefit concert for his buddy's mom at 2PM in Manhattan. Usually, when the man asks me to come to a show, it's under somewhat ridiculous circumstances, like a show on a Thursday night starting at 11PM in Brooklyn, which really means 12:15AM when I got to get up at 5AM for my Friday morning meeting. So I couldn't pass up Sunday at 2PM.
I had the day all planned out until Jacqui decided to bail on me. So, my motivation to go down to the city quickly diminished, and then, almost just as quickly, was replenished when I got bored watching her study. Instead of rushing to the next train to Manhattan, I strolled through down town Mount Kisco, deposited a small check, bought a notebook, and had lunch at a little gourmet burger joint.
When I got in line (not "on line" as they say up here in New York) the young girl behind the counter asked me if I was a student. Without hesitation, I said yes. Whatever discount you're about to offer me, yes, I qualify. I ordered a burger and a soda, I almost ordered a beer, but I had a cold one in my pocket for the train ride, plus I didn't want to have her question my student status. I filled up my soda with a futuristic touch screen soda fountain from Coke. And before I left, I looked at my receipt, and noticed that I saved $3 for a high school discount. Ain't bad.
***
On the way down to the city, I pulled out my new notebook, and poetically wrote about the blurring grey trees outside my train's window while sipping a 12%ABV Palo Santo Marron from Dogfish Head. And on the train ride back, I wrote this down:
He was performing at a cancer benefit concert for his buddy's mom at 2PM in Manhattan. Usually, when the man asks me to come to a show, it's under somewhat ridiculous circumstances, like a show on a Thursday night starting at 11PM in Brooklyn, which really means 12:15AM when I got to get up at 5AM for my Friday morning meeting. So I couldn't pass up Sunday at 2PM.
I had the day all planned out until Jacqui decided to bail on me. So, my motivation to go down to the city quickly diminished, and then, almost just as quickly, was replenished when I got bored watching her study. Instead of rushing to the next train to Manhattan, I strolled through down town Mount Kisco, deposited a small check, bought a notebook, and had lunch at a little gourmet burger joint.
***
On the way down to the city, I pulled out my new notebook, and poetically wrote about the blurring grey trees outside my train's window while sipping a 12%ABV Palo Santo Marron from Dogfish Head. And on the train ride back, I wrote this down:
Now, here's a little secret: Many times I keep a notebook on me when I think a drunken night (or in this case, day) could turn into a blog worthy event. And I'm not asking you to try and translate this drunken scraw, most of this page was written on the train after I had a a couple of the $3 Bud Light special, and by a couple I mean eight-ish. And I must say, my handwriting is better than this when I'm sober and not rocking back and forth on a train. I digress.
What is in this notebook is supposed to serve as a reminder for what is important, and a reminder for what I drunkenly though was important, but most likely is not. Meeting the first ever Shippensburg University doctoral candidate at this bar might be important to mention, especially after he tells me that in fact it just took him seven years to graduate from undergrad, and is the farthest thing from a doctoral candidate. Seeing a guy who could be dead, whose posture is so bad that his chin is buried into his bellybutton while he sleeps, and who wears a winter coat, unzipped with no shirt on underneath, could seem very important, worth dwelling on, debating, and acknowledging how Kafkaesque it all is to me drunk, me sober rather not spend too much time over analyzing him.
***
Aside from all that, Prem did in fact rock the show, we all had a good time and some good laughs. We raised some money for a great cause, and had a few drinks doing it. I met a bunch of Mark's friends, including his roommate Kunal, and Kunal's iPound, or iPad, rather, as well as a local singer/artist Corina.
Once Mark got off stage, the following act, and Irishman with a guitar, didn't necessarily control the crowd, but when I asked him if he could try to get me in the mood for St. Patrick's day, the young man winked and said, "Ahy, lad! Ya want somethin' Irish, do ya?" He sang a verse of some old song that sober I'd never heard of before, but I had enough beers in me at the time I was able to take part in the chorus as he strummed away smiling and singing.
On my way back to Westchester, I was able to navigate the subways without a smart phone, just as I had done on the way down. I looked at a map when needed, and the sun when available, for direction. All in all it was a great day filled with music, food, beer, and good company.
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