Johnny Comes to Koreatown...
Sunday was brilliant. Perfect weather, superb company, and a lengthy meander through a broad swath of the best city on the planet... Andrew, Cherie and I ate Thai, hit Fluff for scones and cupcakes, then escaped to the pavement. The West Side was bathed in golden light, and even the odd girl who held her yawn for half a block looked stunning. We peered into the empty Alvin Ailey rehearsal space (dancers must have been elsewhere), visited Cherie's old digs, took snaps of the Béla Bartók bust, and hoofed it to Columbus Circle. There we purchased books, a timepiece, soap, DVDs, more juices. Shoved C into a cab; Andy and I went back to work on the alb. (He develops the equations, and I grumble about handwriting.) Worked until 1:00 AM (today, the 4th), then met Cherie in Koreatown for a late/very, very early dinner. The graveyard staff weren't terribly efficient, but really, who cares? The sake was hot, and we were laughing too loudly to notice the extent of the chaos. (Trays clattering to hardwood floors, briquet ash floating into water glasses, a general ambience of convivial mayhem.) Retired to a karaoke club where we rented a private room and savored our vocal excrescence. (They had two Sex Pistols selections in their songbook... Those were seen and raised by a pair of Bonnie Tyler compositions... Word to the unhinged: Spandau Ballet's "True" is very difficult to sing.) Left well after 4:00; walked across the boulevard for ginger soy chips and juices. (Naked's Vanilla Chai fucking rules.) Now? We're all here, delirious, anxious for tomorrow. If it's a tenth as cool as yesterday...
Love,
Tom
Love,
Tom
Comments
We looked at the menu of an Italian bistro yesterday, but sloughed off the notion of eating there. Too much of everything fun, not enough torture. Although TLASILA are primarily omnivores, my requirements are less stringent. With a mild miso broth and a plate of endemame I'm content...
Best,
Tom
I really fucked up by not bringing my vidcam along... The decor of the joint was exceptional (a brazen cross between Kubrick's 2001 Pan Am lounge interiors and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, had it been constructed in Brasilia), and the staff was very tolerant of our excesses. Our cube was agreeably luxe, albeit in a distinct 90s vein: chrome and leather appointments, private phone, intercom to the adjoining bar, computer-tracked digital lighting, etc. Koreatown has an excellent selection of karaoke clubs, most of which operate 24/7. And, yes, we could hear every appalling screech from each of the nearby cubicles...
Best,
Tom
TS