October 28, 2005

SCENE REPORT IN FOUR.. THREE... TWO --

Taking it from the top, freejazz recounting:
We rode bikes to the Puma store, where the party was. Miles has no reflectors on the bike I bought him, so I rode back as protection from cabs, shine on crazy diamond style. We got to the Puma store, I snarfed some treties from the table. Not full treats since it was all cute mini foods, halloween packs of M&Ms. I walked up to Miles and said "gimme me stuff" and he handed me a big tin foil lump from his bag. The dudes with the dreads he was speaking with said "whats that?!" and I put it in their hands. "Exactly what it looks like." I said. "A baked potato straight from the oven?!" he said. "Yep. It's a present. That's why I am here." To deliver a sweet potato to my friend who is having a hard week. What else can you do? What says "thinking of you, kid"? The potato became an item of fun and got stuffed down Ben AND Kathryn's pants, some sim-boner funny funtimes, while the Aluminum Group brothers did a halloween revue that I think maybe only me and 4 other people actually watched, they were french girls, barfing with black eyes, hopping fey in home made "puma" outfits-- c'est incredible, fils. Everyone else was lampin, lampin, stone cold lampin in the free bacardi mixed drinks line and everyone else just ogled the shoes. "These ones. These ones are awesome." said "everyone". (Browsing is totes the new partying.) Ryan Schrieber, Pitchfork's ombudsman came over and gossipped with Kathryn, he has a beard that crawls down his neck a bit and was wearing a fleece coat and a flannel, real Canadian camping/Narnakc Recording Artist style, and kathryn says "You look like Tom Cruise." and before I can say "whuuut?!" she clarifies to him. "As Ron Kovic. In Born on The Fourth of July." -- which might be the best way to insult anyone's moustache ever. Some rep handed Frank a Bacardi gift bag, which he passed off to me: keychains, tiny bottles of liquor and a Bacardi t shirt that looked like Fat Joe's 'round the house jammies. It came all the way to my kneecaps. I know this because I tried it on. As I did so, a woman, perhaps a Bacardi rep, or a stringer for Chicago Social, spun me around and a man with a camera-huge and flashing--took my picture. She opened her mouth wide and showed me her back molars "SMY-ULLLLLL" she says and froze her face, like she was in the picture too.
"you just did that thing. That thing you do to babies when you photograph them."
"Oh, totally! And animals too!" (she laughs)
I imagined her talking to animals, trying to get them to pose.
I turned the shirt into a headwrap, inspired, thinking of how i read today that Neneh Cherry has a new album coming, and suddenly the lady had her arms around me, "SMY-ULLLL" she winnied into my neck as she pulled me into the cameras range, her face frozen in "wild/tonsils" pose, me turned towards Miles and Damon going "WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?". She released me and turned me around-- "One more!" she said. I straightened my turban and threw a gang sign towards the lens.

Then RJD2 played, and it was real mediocre. Dude makes the staid Steve Aoki/Franki Chan gamut look like deep cuts. "Tainted Love" into "Big Pimpin"...kids bracketed by the shoe aisle throwing ass and the folks that new hollered with authority "DIPSET! DIPSET! DIPSET!". I kept thinking that this is the sort of stuff they must play at proms now. (I imagined RJD2 really making a magic night at the Crystal Room in the basement of a Hyatt somewhere in BFE, throwing Cure songs inbetween Snoop Dogg, boys in tuxes, hands in the air miming heat they have never held--lick shots for the JV cheerleader plied with Captain Morgans/ lick shots for the bonfire party in the woods/ lick shots for nightmoves in the back seat of the hand-me-down Camry.) This "show", it was absent teal cumberbunds, which, really, was a sad sad thing.

Posted by Jessica at October 28, 2005 01:03 AM | TrackBack