And now for some gratuitious promotion

Last thursday I went to the opening of the Terrible Toy Fair II. Now to be sure, and I will probably get in trouble for saying this, some of the stuff is predictable-hacked up baby dolls or baby dolls painted with red "blood", but the majority of the work is amazing and at the very least entertaining. The mutilated furbys, the "cynthomatic" vending machine, and the tribute to a Clockwork Orange were among some of my favorites. But I'm not going to describe the whole thing to you because then you won't go. To see the terrible toys, go to the CBCG Art Gallery located on 313 Bowery ( click on the link for gallery hours). The show runs from now until the 28th. It might even make for a very unconventional Valentine's Day date.

My "New York Life"

Last week I was talking to my students before class and one of them asked about my weekend. I chatted about the people I had met and some of the things I had done. Finally another one of my students said "You really have the new york life." I asked her what she meant. "Well you meet all these cool people, and you go to all these places."
Now generally I think of my life as a sucking hostile wasteland of desolation, but I began to think about it. Among my friends I can count a former oxford scholar who was friends with, of all people, Henri Langois ( he worked with Langois at the Cinematheque) and worked for Coco Chanel, a professional dominatrix/fashion consultant, a writer for the show "Whoopi", an electrocrystalographer getting his PhD at Mt. Sinai, and the worst Buddhist in the tri-state area. I've managed to date ( or at the very least fool around with) in the span of three months: Joss Whedon's college roommate, a former professional athlete and current ESPN broadcaster, a crazy Russian novelist, the brother of a gay guy I fooled around with once, and a guy who dresses every day as if it was 1939.
So I guess my hostile sucking wasteland is at least very "New York" sucking hostile wasteland.

A Very New York Moment from My Very New York Life

So these two ideas culminated in one experience on Thursday night. I was at the Toy Fair with someone who shall remain nameless (mainly because to be named in here seems to be to court destruction so we shall attempt to protect the poor thing-he is,after all, dating me, which is enough destruction for one person), and I see this big rockabilly guy. I mean, he had the waist length hair, the shirt open to the navel with the big cross tattoos on his chest, the leather cowboy hat with the jolly roger on the front, the whole look. So I jokingly said to my date "I should get him to stand behind me in class and not say anything, just stand there the whole time and look menacing." Well my date thought this was such a good idea that he insisted I go up and ask. He pushed and pulled and threatened but I wouldn't ask. I was too shy, too embarassed that this rockabilly would hate me or maybe just kill me and eat me. So the rockabilly actually sits down next to us (fate, destiny, kismet if you will) and my date leans over and says "Can we pay you three cases of the beer of you choice to stand in a college english class and look menacing?" And the response?

"My father was an english professor at Seyton Hall for 37 years."

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