DO SOMETHING ELSE

Today we completely fucked up in attempts to attend an organ concert at St. Thomas Cathedral. Hopeful, excited, prepared. we arrived at the venue to find the show had happened the day before. But this is NYC, and not to be discouraged we walked a mere block to MoMA, and with Cara’s membership were able to get some cheap access to a culture fix.

“Some guy is wearing a Rocket shirt near the Richard Serra sculpture” said Cara.

I wander over with her and sure enough there was Rob M., who’d I last seen years ago and who once worked for me at The Rocket right before it folded. We spent the next few minutes chitting and chatting; he seeming nervous and fidgety as people can sometimes be when their past catches up to them, though we really had no particular affiliation. He’s visiting for the weekend and happened to be at the museum with his girlfriend (who eventually wandered over).

Later Cara and I cruise around the museum. We’ve seen most of what's on display, I was really there to see the Serra stuff, but the show didn’t open until later in the week. There were some sweet silent film posters near the theaters, but it wasn’t until I see the Dan Perjovschi drawings in the atrium, where the Barnett Newman's Broken Obelisk resides (whose twin sits in Red Square on the University of Washington campus), that I’m completely satisfied I got what I needed that day.