Breathing in ideas with the Arch-man. The place is called bodegas on Fulton st. They serve one hell of a breakfast, and plenty of atmosphere later in the day. We were entreated to the sounds of a soukous band called Franco to go along with appetizers and fresh-cut french fries

See. That’s what happens. These nights will turn a knight into a plebe and the opposite. You had better watch out.

Booze night with the homies. Here’s a cab ride – um you’ve seen this before I’m sure.

Damian, who almost never smokes, found a fresh pack somewhere, and was distributing them freely to the folks standing outside that night. I hadn’t seen him since the days when he was my TA in electronic music classes in college. Now he’s the lead singer / guitarist for the band okgo.

I hadn’t seen Tim since a few years back either. Actually, the back of his head appears in the last photo in my Laborday ’01 story.

I love to think of this city as the one i heard about growing up. I mean the tattered decaying monstrosity that it is – even if the last mayor cleaned it up a bit. I mean, new york isn’t Tokyo. It isn’t Disneyland. And when i see grime – good grime, that is – well, something kind of clicks for me. This is the city that soars like so many skyscrapers.