I could very well be behind the curve on this one, but I discovered this Feist video about two weeks ago and haven’t stopped watching it. It’s cool to know that even with the current state of kids entertainment, there are still people in TV who believe that you don’t have to talk down to children. Parents clear out some shelf space – your toddler is going to start buying vinyl like crazy.
Since moving to New York, I’ve made an effort to always post a 9/11 blog on the anniversary, because – personally – it’s a day I will never forget. This year, I would prefer to share my blog from 2008, since it still relates all of my sentiments from that day.
9/11/01. Never forget. God Bless America.
Well, blog readers, you know by now that when I go MIA, it usually means I’m gearing up for another amazing show for The Matt Fried Hour! Last week, comedy photog extraordinaire Keith Huang was awesome enough to give us a little recognition on the NYC comedy blog, The Apiary. Check it out! Come out to the show tonight!
I was reading the Sunday New York Times, and stumbled across an article about matchmaking services between men in finance and women in fashion. I’m not so naïve that I don’t think there aren’t shallow people in New York, yet I was still surprised by the story.
It’s no secret that status is the big thing here. It’s the reason half the under-30 crowd moved here: to be someone five years after college. Yet it still weirds me out to consider that my generation is beginning to get married and have kids. Or, at the very least, seriously concern itself with getting married and having kids. But, to at least create a bit of empathy, I tried to imagine what the story is behind some of these people. What would happen in their lives that brought them to a pair of vodka and Red Bulls, talk of how wonderful Paris is in the springtime, and how they can’t wait until the next Dave Matthews tour. For the record, this what I imagine conversation to be like between all young, successful, boring couples.
Now, on that last bit, I don’t mean to sound like some culture snob. Sure, there was a time when I railed against yuppies in my blog. There is definitely evidence on the internet of me touting my love and knowledge of TV On The Radio as superiority. But, c’mon people: that was sooo 2008 Matt Fried. Now, I’m all about Frightened Rabbit. Anyway, what I should be saying is that: I always railed against yuppies because they embodied everything I thought was wrong about living in New York City. But then again: for me, New York never changed past 1955. I was majorly disappointed when I got here three years ago, and found out that La Coste had turned half of Manhattan into its playground. But now, I’m really beginning to wonder: seriously yuppies – why are you here? It always occurred to me that people came to this city to find something. The least of it was a husband, or a “future ex-wife”. For the upper crust, is it really all about a life of quiet desperation? Do they not believe in fate, excitement, or even the idea that there’s more to New York City – and love and life – than just simply someone to share a mortgage with?
It all just gets me wondering about what we really do think we know about monogamy and faith. Is it really about finding the one you want? Or only ever about loving the one you’re with?
1. Spending almost $100 on new music leaves one feeling completely guilt-free. This principle is true because the record shop is still a living, breathing mammal in Chicago. On Saturday, Reckless Records in Lakeview brought me back to a happier place: the pre-Napster era. Also, on a side note: when I am in a record shop, I always get this strange urge to buy half the inventory. I think this happens because I personally believe I have very sophisticated, indie-alternative tastes that impress people. These tastes need to be satiated by me spending at least $70 at any given music retailer.
2. Having a backyard is not a privilege, but a goddamn right. Sure, in New York, we try to substitute our losses with fire escapes and rooftops. But when was the last time you could play a safe game of wiffle ball on a fire escape? After 2007, my robot leg and I found out it was an urban myth.
3. A bicyclist never has to worry about dying in Chicago. I am convinced of this, because Chicago clearly wants everyone riding a bike versus driving a car. Since I never learned how to ride a bike, I now understand Charlton Heston’s position in Planet of The Apes. And I’ll only say this: I will shoot any biker that threatens my way of life.
4. Chicago is the land of the Chicago Hot Dog and taco stands. God bless America.
5. Even if it is part of the gay culture, The Market Days Street Festival is for all Chicagolanders. If you truly don’t get why gays are fighting for equal rights in this country, Market Days will show you that they are people, too. Also, if you’ve never been to a gay club, Market Days will do its best to fix that with throbbing, deep bass house music, a ton of shirtless men, and me being all out of business cards. Oh well… there’s always 2010.
6. Midwesterners are the most down-to-earth people you’ll ever meet. So down-to-earth, that they’ll ask you to babysit their teenagers at O’Hare International Airport. True story: the morning I flew back to New York, I’m standing on line at baggage check. I strike-up a brief conversation with a mom and her 15 year-old son, who was traveling alone to New York City. The mom then takes me (a total stranger) aside, and asks me to keep an eye on her kid as we fly back to New York together. I’m running on no sleep and no coffee, and now I’m stuck making awkward conversation for two hours about illegal file-sharing and Phish. I’m almost beginning to wonder if God tattooed “Professor John Keating” on my forehead, and I just can’t see it.
Okay, I know it’s been a while since another original piece, but bear with me: it has been a busy week. I’m off to Chicago for the weekend, and I’m sure something worth talking about will happen out there. Anyway, I did want to post this video, which has been making its way around the internet for the last few months. Some of you probably know it as the infamous “gay marriage” vlog from this kid YouTube user, Simondeansmilk.
Why am I posting it? One, because it’s unintentionally hilarious. Two, because where the hell are this kids parents? Especially since it’s spawned such a venomous response from other users and Simondeansmilk. You want to feel bad for this kid for obvious reasons, but then again: why does he have a webcam and an internet connection in his room?
Are you going? The ghost of Joe Strummer is!
TONIGHT, Wednesday night, July 29th at 9:00 p.m. at The Under St. Marks Theater. Be there! You can buy tickets online here! (Pop in the discount code “MFH50″ for $4 seats!)
Are you excited? I know this man on the street is!
Wednesday night, July 29th at 9:00 p.m. at The Under St. Marks Theater. Be there! You can buy tickets online here! (Pop in the discount code “MFH50″ for $4 seats!)
I realize I’m about a month late on this one, but I wanted to take some time to pay my respects to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. When I first heard the reports that MJ had passed away, my first thought was that it had to be a hoax. Even if we were being led to believe that he had died, he might have just faked it. If that sounds cold, do consider the scrutiny the guy had been under since the 1990s. I honestly thought that – given his money, his bad publicity, and his recent desire to keep a low profile – it really made sense.
But what did get me was how I found out. I was on the F train in Brooklyn, and a loud 11 year old boy, jockeying for his parents attention, belted out “MICHAEL JACKSON DIED! WHO CARES?!?!?”
Whoa.
It was one of those moments when you realize you have been around on this planet long enough to tell that kid, “You say that, because you’re too young to get it.” Granted, to this child, MJ was already a joke – he couldn’t have been born before 1997. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he was being obnoxious and disrespectful.
Of course, for the next two weeks, the media onslaught killed everybody’s buzz. At least, it did for me. I didn’t know how I felt. I didn’t want to have an opinion. But, that changed when I remembered that Dangerous was the first c.d. I ever owned, bought right here in New York, and taken back home to Philadelphia. I remember not knowing how a c.d. player worked (it was 1991, folks), so I listened to the whole album; waiting patiently for “Black Or White”, which was the song that ruled my world at nine years old, to finally play. That same year, my mom would give me Thriller and Bad as Christmas presents. In 1995, I bought HIStory in its first week of release. Very soon, I remembered: as a kid, I loved Michael Jackson. And, because of when I was born and which album was my first ever, I can argue that his music forever defined my preferences. So honestly, that is how I want to remember him. Plain and simple.
Rest in peace, Michael.
Since 2008, I've been a contributing writer for the social networking site, Guidespot.com. Presently, I serve as a community manager and a junior editor.
Please feel free to check out my guides. I write about New York City, dating, and geek stuff.
