The Morning After

I didn't really know where to start with this blog, so I thought that I guess I should begin with what's happening right now. And as I go, everything will work itself out - as it usually does.

I work for 4th Row Films in New York. Our most recent project screened at the Tribeca Film Festival last night and it was the first time I have been apart of the festival itself. Titled "Making the Boys" our documentary examines the groundbreaking play, and later feature film, "The Boys in the Band" written by Mart Crowly. There were cameras and a sold out theater, free drinks and some rather famous people (if you know who you're looking for). After the show, we held our after party at Elmo Restaurant and Lounge (7th Ave, between 19th and 20th). Perfect pink curtains and a disco ball fit the gay-theme of things, and of course my boss playing DJ. I think he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he didn't have control over the tunes and a double shot of chilled Cuervo in his hands at all times - hold the fruit. Makes for a hell of a time.

If there is one picture that describes what the morning after Tribeca is like, it might look like this:

Yikes.

"Bluebird" by Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

If you don't like this song, we can't be friends.

Wanna go ride bikes?