July 6th, 2001

full life

Beck = 1, me = 0

mornin'.

Last night was, as I had hoped, productive. I had 5 or 6 tapes that were completely unlabeled, so I had no idea what was on 'em. There's quite a lot of good stuff that I had totally forgotten about. I put an asterisk next to 16 tracks, 4 or 5 of which will have to be put aside until I get a band together. But this is good news. I want this gig (and the gigs to follow) to be nothing but completely brand-new material; maybe, maybe one or two old songs.

I finally figured out what the song was that was driving me crazy a few days ago - it's the last song on Beck's "Mellow Gold". I had the very beginning of the first verse on auto-loop in my head for days and I couldn't figure out what it was, and I was determined to steal it if I couldn't prove that it already existed. This round goes to you, Beck.

Awwwww yeah, Friday.
  • Current Mood
    hopeful hopeful
full life

The possible existence of a new Reality Sandwich, and its implications on Western Civilization.

With all the high drama of this week, I'd nearly forgotten all about the biggest news of all. jdixon had mentioned a possible sighting of a Reality Sandwich in the East Village.

Now, lemme tell you something, NYC has a million great places to eat, but for my money, the best food I ever ate was at Reality Sandwich, which at the time was in a small shop on Thompson Street between West 3rd and Bleecker. At the time, I was living on East Houston Street but I had several friends who lived on Thompson, and I ate at R.S. at least 20 times a week. The best hot open sandwiches ever made, in my opinion. It apparently wasn't doing so well, though, and moved into Harry's Burritos, which was right up the street.

And of course, I moved onto Thompson Street, and my first night there I went to Harry's Burritos to celebrate with a Roman Chicken, only to be informed that they were no longer serving Reality.

I was heartbroken over this for a long time. People who know me know that I'm not necessarily a food-oriented person, which is why it's so easy for me to not eat when I'm broke. But Reality Sandwiches really did fuck up my reality with how insanely good they were, and it blew my mind that nobody else outside of my circle of friends ever went there.

So with this possible sighting, I am now a man on a mission. This weekend, I will find this place, and eat heartily, bank account be damned. And on Monday, or whenever I am next on a computer, I will post their address here, and if you live in the NYC area, you are hereby ordered to go there and check it out. Please. Don't let me be without Reality any longer.
  • Current Mood
    fucking stoked