Podcasting since 2004; Conversations, conflicts, adventures and monologues from around the world.
Here I am in Philly.. or actually.. uploading this from DC.. either way.. its me this morning talking about how and perhaps why Philly is changing. I also get into the NYC transit strike and how the media covers it, as well as a little on the new Bolivian presidente.
AudioCommunique #90(mp3)
29min+, 80kbps, 17Mb+
Im in a startbucks in Adam’s Morgan and I’m due at a party, no show notes, listen to it and maybe I’ll fix it later.
Blamo – I’m in Philly. Blogging probably reads like teleportation. Amsterdam – beep beep beep – New york – beep beep beep – AC beep beep beep Philly.
What’s going on in Philly? I wouldn’t know.. I’m mostly indoors finishing work from Amsterdam that followed me here in my beloved powerbook. But I can tell you it’s loverly in this town. I think Jamie recently said to me: Philly is the new Brooklyn, meaning this place is becoming a destination for young hipsters yearning to leave swamps of Florida or the corn fields of Nebraska. For those who long to wear knitted scarves, corduroy blazers, and argyl socks. Oh wait, I just described all my friends and old professors.
The Leah, who’s café Im currently sitting in as the Death Cab plays on the stereo, said to me on the bike ride over here, that philly reminds her of Amsterdam in different ways. I never felt that in my brief visits, so I’m taking extra long looks at everything, trying to see it through her eyes and then visualizing the DAM. Slowly I can see some of what she’s talking about: Last night, after ice skating with some of the most beautiful ladies I’ve seen all vacation (no offense all ye other lady friends of mine), I marvelled at the fact that we rode away, all 6 of us, on bike! A peleton in Philadelphia, and we’re not even Team Discovery Channel. We then met up with other hilarious and wonderful guys and femeninas at an ice cream parlour. Thats right.. ice skating and ice cream, these people are either alternative to the bone, or secretly 10 years old inside.
Whatever the reasons they’re here, the people I’ve met here in Philly (Nocoin’s friends) are different in a great way. I wouldn’t call them MY PEOPLE as Im forever an outsider, especially living so far away. Still, they’re great, and I repeat: attractive, well-rounded individuals with a sense of community. Whether its brotherly love or sisterly love you seek, come to philly my friends, bm recommends.
Growing up in New Jersey, you always hear about Atlantic City. Your town has buses that old people pile into and drive down to that mythical city where you can gamble your troubles away. Then, as you reach that legal age, you’ll hear friends talking about driving down to “AC” for the night, to roll the dice or play some blackjack, and come back north when the sun is rising. Like everybody else in New Jersey, I was used to hearing about the city every now and then, but somehow, I never went there.
So last night, as my family was hiding out for the holidays down in South Jersey, after eating fake-xmas-dinner one week early, it seemed like there was nothing left to do. Then my father asks — have you ever seen Altantic City at night? I admited I hadn’t. Minutes later, my father, my brother, and I piled into the car and drove to that mecca of shiney casinos, aging hotels, and utter poverty in its shadow.
From the outside, it is a modest sized collection of tall buildings with fun light patterns. Vegas lovers will say its nothing compared to their holy land, but the truth is, both offer the same horrendous features, in my eyes: gambling, extreme poverty, desperation, and addiction.
As we walked through the different casinos my brother pointed out the different games, the minimum bets, the profiles of the players.. it was all overwhelming. The place was in a frenzy, like a Portuguese flea-market on a saturday morning. Among the things I noticed were the people, all seemingly strange looking or suffering from some ailment. Maybe it was just sadness. maybe it was the unemployed blues. maybe it was their shitty walmart jobs… whatever the cause there wasn’t much smiling or laughing, just concentration mixed with frustration.
In typical bicyclemark style, I kept looking at the rows and rows of machines thinking — what a waste of money. You know how many hospitals could have been built instead. You know how many trips to different parts of the world these people could go on. and why oh why is such a rich industry surrounded by poverty all around it, outside those golden doors?
This morning some people asked what I thought of Altantic city with this expectant smile. If it wouldnt have been impolite I would have told him the truth — Im afraid of AC and the culture that finds this passtime appealling.
Im somewhere in South Jersey hell. Where the only wi-fi I could find was in the parking lot of this helliday inn. On the drive down here, with my parents, my mother started talking about the details of the presidents’s beloved No Child Left Behind initiative, and whats happenning to schools because of it.
AudioCommunique #89(mp3)
32min+, 80kbps, 18Mb+
Discussed:
Im sitting in a car in the parking lot, I can’t be bothered to write the highlights.
Music:
Bright Eyes – something from Digital Ash Digital Burn
Phil Ochs – Outside…
Joanna Newsome – Bridges and Balloons Dedicated to my roomate Amy
Next show Ill talk about the Vlog Calender and wouldnt you know it, IM IN IT!
Tomorrow: Philly!
I love a good strike. Not so much when I need to take a train or a bus somewhere, but still- I love a good strike. And as of right now, supposedly, the NYC Transit workers are on strike. Now many of you might say –boo, i have to get to work/school! But please, won’t you join me in celebrating one of the last labor unions in the country that still has some goddam pull around here!
I’m telling you, it’s exciting, you just have to look at it from a different point of view. Nevermind that its raining, icing outside right now, and nevermind that its that silly pagan holiday coming up and you need that pay check to buy the kiddies their pine tree for the living room. Ignore all those seemingly earth shattering things, and marvel at the power of people’s collective power when they are organized. I love it! Hell, I wish I could be a transit worker for a day, cause you must feel truely alive when you stand up to the authorities, risking everything because you demand certain standards and respect. I even heard there’s a law that says transit workers can’t strike? Psshhhaw, if every transit worker stands arm-in-arm on the streets of NYC, they could never arrest you all. Hmm.. unless they call you terrorists, then they can just shoot you and ask questions later.
So after meeting with Michael and Jamie at what was allegedly my listener/reader meetup in the village, we had some dinner at Yaffa’s, discussed vital social issues (and stuff), and we each headed towards our designated underground transport. As the PATH train took me back to New Jersey and the wonderous Hoboken train station, I kept wondering how Jamie and other New Yorkers would react to the transit strike. Somehow I doubt they’ll be as big a cheerleader as I am, sleeping in and watching it all unfold on the internet.
JUST WOKE UP UPDATE: A limited strike? Whats this world coming to? Joe Hill is turning over in his grave…. limited strike… @^%#$^#.
I haven’t been talking about the meetings, the observations, and the thoughts, Ive been having since being back in New Jersey. Mostly because days melt into days and like some kind of battery-recharging, I don’t tend to do much with my time here, besides read blogs, play with the A-Ren, and take care of xmas shopping.
However last night was one of those great meetups, the kind that I look forward to long before making the trip out here. As you may have read elsewhere, I had dinner in the East Village with Ms. Thingk and Jamie of the Known Universe. I’ve been saying those two names alot lately, perhaps because they are great friends with whom I’ve always felt at ease around, or maybe because they both live in Brooklyn and can easily meet up with me at say, the Starbucks at Cooper Square.
And just as I had anticipated, it was pure joy to be around them again. Ms Thingk who I had met in the fishtank at the U of Amsterdam, with whom I had so often explored Amsterdam with and blogged about our adventures. After her wonderful adventures in DC, it is fun and almost fitting to watch her progress as a New Yorker. Jamie who I somehow met through bloggging and blog comments, who later came to Amsterdam and I remember sitting with him in my living room (one of my old living rooms) drinking Scotch and talking about his friend who was travelling to India. He handed me a copy of his book last night, and I haven’t been able to put it down since.
The three of us ate our Moroccan dinner and then proceeded to start taking photos of each other – obviously for our blogs. I recorded some audio but have decided some things are not meant to be shared. That and I messed up the volume level pretty bad. No matter – it was good to be back in the neighborhood that used to greet me every morning, and it was even greater to see good friends with whom I share so much in common.