Thursday, June 23, 2005
revving, moving, the messy ponytail, vacation & help, emails, music
Please help me out here, because this is something I know nothing about. Is there any real mechanical need to rev the engine of a motorcycle for a solid ten minutes, shaking every windowpane within three miles and killing nearby small animals with the intense noise and reverberations?
Last night, there was some sort of motorcycle gang eating in the Little Italy restaurant I live above. Actually, it was more like some sort of motorcycle festival, because they weren't just in that restaurant, but all over the place. I'm not sure what type of motorcycle gang/club/group says, "Hey, why don't we all go out for a nice alfresco dinner in Little Italy tonight?", but I digress.
And so what I and the other residents of Little Italy were treated to were five solid hours of apartment-shaking/night-ruining engine revving, courtesy of these bikers. I can't articulate how infuriating this was. All night long I sat in the apartment, hearing (and feeling) the vroom-vroom-vrooooom of the engines, filling with an unimaginable rage. It was so loud that I was legitimately worried that my air conditioner was going to fall out of my window, shook from the window pane and dropped on the unsuspecting asshole diners below.
This is how fucking murder happens, my friends. Jim Norton has a great bit in his stand-up routine in which he says something to the effect of "There is no anger like the anger of a person kept awake by another person's snoring." I have often dreamed of stealing this bit and building a list of Excusable Reasons for Murder. For example, if you were trapped in a hotel room on vacation with a buddy who snored so loudly that he kept you up all night and was ruining your trip, a jury might not convict you for murder if you took his life on night three at about 4am.
And if snoring is on that list, motorcycle engine-revving is up there. I swear to you that if I had had a firearm in my apartment last night, at the very least I would have gone down there and shot it into the air. I was angrier than I've been in months and possibly ever.
And so I ask...is there any other point to revving your engine other than annoying the shit out of everyone in your half of Manhattan? Are you just trying to say, "Hey everyone, wake up! Stop watching tv! And come look and see how loud my motorcycle is! I fucking rule! I am in a motorcycle club! We are bad ass! And you are gay! Yes! My penis is huge! Check out at my bike! It's so loud! Again, you are homosexual!" or does it actually help the bike in some way?
Don't get me wrong, I love motorcycles and bikers (and yes, I'm just saying this so I don't get my ass kicked). My dad had a motorcycle when I was growing up and when I was 16 he actually bought me my very own. I think it was his last ditch effort to make me a man. I'm sure he thought to himself, "Well, I tried to teach him to fight and to play sports and that didn't work. On top of that, he was Julia Roberts from 'Pretty Woman' for Halloween last year and has a very girlie speaking voice. Guess I should get him a motorcycle." Sadly, it wasn't meant to be for me and the motorcycle. Having only learned to ride a normal bike the year before and never very good at the whole "coordination" thing, after two weeks my dad sold it to the brother of a guy I went to high school with. Oh well.
But please, if you have a bike, don't rev it up outside my house. I'm too scared to buy a gun but I did buy a can of mace and I swear to you that I will use it. If you don't believe me, test me mother fucker.
Payback is a bitch. This evening, I have to help a friend move. My friend Abby (who, by the way, is the happiest woman on earth since the People thing, since it mentions her name all over the place) has a car. When I was moving last month, she helped me out a lot by making runs to my new apartment with my stuff, cramming all of my junk into her Saab, driving through the streets of Chinatown while I screamed, "No! Make a left! Damn it! Where the hell are all these Asian people coming from anyway??? Are they falling from the fucking sky???"
Tonight, Abby is moving her "big stuff" to her new place in Brooklyn. And now she's calling in a favor. Crap.
What's even better about the situation is that Abby will have three people helping her move in addition to me: her dad, her brother-in-law, and one of her dad's co-workers. What's so good about this? Abby's dad is 6'6" and a farmer. Her brother-in-law is also a farmer. And the third guy is a farmer too, but when not farming he goes to Alaska to do deep sea crab fishing, like in the show "The Deadliest Catch".
These guys spend their days in the hot sun hauling 100 pound bags of seed. I spend my days in an air conditioned office eating peanut M&M's. If anyone has a video camera, I encourage you to come to Brooklyn to film this, because it's going to be comical. My only hope is that I can escape the embarrassment by somehow pulling a hamstring on the subway ride over to Brooklyn, rendering myself unable to move. Otherwise, I'm in trouble.
Ladies, can we have a moment?
There is a phenomenon sweeping the nation that drives men wild (or at least drives me wild). What is it, you ask? The messy ponytail.
I tried to find a picture as an example, but to no avail. But you know what I'm talking about...the hair is pulled back in a ponytail, but it's not in a long tail form but rather half-up and half-down, and some strands of hair loosely hang in the front and in the back. Like a messy ponytail.
This is a popular look for women in the summer and I think it's pretty darn hot. It says, "You know what? It's hot so I'm gonna pull my hair back. But I really don't care about what it looks like, so whatever." And we all know nothing is hotter than not caring.
So please ladies, for my sake and the sake of men everywhere, rock the messy ponytail. Thank you.
Two things to be aware of:
1) As I mentioned yesterday, I will be on vacation from the week of Monday, July 4 to Friday, July 8. There will be no posts this week (most likely).
2) My birthday is Sunday, July 17. I will be 26. Start saving your pennies now, because we will have our biannual jasonmulgrew.com pledge drive. Last time (December), less than .01% of you gave. Let's try to improve on that this time, especially since I had to shell out some extra cash to keep the site from crashing because too many of you were coming. I recommend putting your loose change in a coffee can, though donations will be via Paypal (all you need is a credit/debit card).
I've gotten quite a bit of emails from you recently. I am trying to answer as many as I can, but if I don't, please do not take it personally. Note: I will NOT answer your email if you put "boobies" in the title and you do not have boobies anywhere in the email. This is just downright mean. Getting me all giddy and excited like that, thinking I'm going to see some boobies, only to have a plug for your blog in the email, well, it's just not right.
But if you're new to the site and you dig it, I ask that you pass it along. This site is powered by word of mouth because my ass is too broke to do any advertising and I only have like eight friends, so that's all the readers I can contribute. Link it on your blogs or websites, email it to your friends, drop a link in a message board, use the "Spread the Word" page - whatever you're most comfortable with. Just fucking pimp it already because I'm freaking out over here.
Thank you in advance for your support.
"I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)" The White Stripes
Get this album. The whole thing. Trust me.
"Promises" Eric Clapton
If I'm ever in a relationship, and I get in a huge fight with my girl, and I leave her place, get in my car, and just drive, unsure of where I'm going, I'm going to play this song in the car. Also, it would be helpful if it's 1978. That would be perfect.
"Save It For A Rainy Day" The Jayhawks
A nice country-ish ditty that starts, "Pretty little hairdo/Don't do what it used to". Sad. So I like it.
"We All Had A Real Good Time" Edgar Winter Group
The official song of "Jason Mulgrew 2005: Summer of Party." Anytime you have a man as gorgeous as this leading your group, I'm listening. But when you back it up with extraordinary musical talent and a song about getting messed up, you deserve a Nobel Prize.
"Paper Doll" Louis XIV
This song is cool, but it is so sexual in nature that it makes me blush. A female reader suggested it to me and I played it for my roommate Brian. After listening to it, he said, jokingly, "Any girl who likes that song is a slut." I wouldn't go that far, but I certainly wouldn't want my 17 year-old daughter singing it. Of course, I haven't spoken to or seen my daughter in about twelve years, so I don't think I'll hear her singing this. Unless she like, shows up or something, because Lord knows I'm not looking for her.
"See Me Feel Me" The Who (Live from Woodstock)
This is possibly the best easily accessible live performance of all-time. I say "easily accessible" because I'm not one of those guys who has dozens and dozens of recorded live shows, so I can't say how well this stacks up against Zeppelin's "In The Light" from 10/14/78 or Phish's "Antelope" from 2/11/94. It's a lot like how I have sex: it starts softly and beautifully, builds slowly to a stunning climax, and then abruptly ends. Only after sex I also have to climb back out the window, and this song doesn't do that in any way. But otherwise it's exactly the same.