G.G.

Cara and I were down in Chelsea tonight to see the one-man show Tom Crean: Antarctic Explorer (second act much better than the first), and fterwards we were headed towards the subway, a couple doors down from the venue we saw some guy struggling to get his luggage through his lobby doors.

“That looked like Gilbert Gottfried.” I said.

“Yeah, I know. . . it did, didn’t it?”

I headed back to take another look and it sure was, he was still fucking around with his luggage had that same horrible grimaced face he has in public, so you know that shit is for real.

VISITORS SHOW YOU THINGS YOU MIGHT HAVE OVERLOOKED II

Deciding that we could only really do two things today we first headed uptown to the Cooper Hewitt National Design Museum to catch the absolutely inspiring feature exhibit Design Life Now: National Design Triennial 2006. It was a well-needed dose of inspiration in what has largely been a few months of what I consider hack work. Bogged down by sales and marketing influences, I often forget the greater role designers must live up to in embellishing the world with quality, beauty and function. High and hungry afterwards we headed down to the East Village, had a great meal and then insanely delicious chocolates at the (gratuitously self indulgent) Max Brenner cafe nearby. I actually got high off their milk chocolate frappe and found myself staring in awe at the godhead evening light against a brick building across the street giving thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ. We split and caught a show at the Union Square Theater called Be by performance group Mayumana based out of Israel. We’ve all seen this before, that pummeling kind of high-energy entertainment using sweaty female/male bodies and percussion, forcing you into a kind of exhausting submission by attempting to incorporate every physical gimmick and trick in the vaudeville/acrobat repertoire. It was fascinating, but at the same time it had the effect of making someone like myself feel either incredibly horny or physically inadequate depending on the moment. It would have been perfect at an hour long.

Saw Jesse Eisenberg (picture from behind) out in front. . . also there for the show. We both kind of stared at each other a couple of times when around one another, which I wonder if is the usual response an actor gives to someone who recognizes them.

VISITORS SHOW YOU THINGS YOU MIGHT HAVE OVERLOOKED

Had my friend Katrina in town over the weekend, and as usual when people come to visit, I end up doing stuff I normally would never get around too. So on Friday I took the day off and met her down in SoHo (where I passed the actor Norman Reedus pushing a BMX bike down the sidewalk) at the headquarters for V magazine and gallery space for Visionaire, the extraordinary limited-edition topical art book/magazine thing that comes out thrice yearly. We gleefully perused the back issues with their ridiculously expensive printing formats of rubber and plastic complete with the very finest in gorgeous color/black and white photography. We then headed up to 103rd at Central Park to catch the wandering performance of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labor Lost that had the audience up and about a lakeside setting moving from scene to scene. As the night fell it got downright magical at the end with the actors illuminated by flashlight and fireflies punctuating the scenes with that kind of mystical juju thing that just makes you all lucky to be alive for perfect moments.

TONY ROBERTS

Recognized him immediately as he was leaving a restaurant on the West Side, older but unmistakable from the old Woody Allen films I know him from.

FRED SCHNEIDER

Spotted Fred in front of me on the way back to the office after lunch, on 19th and 7th. He was acting kinda funny, checking out a bunch of those plastic, zippered, plaid bags you get at the 99¢ store that were parked out in front of some apartment building. He kept walking back and forth, checking these bags out. I should add he looks much older but his face was unmistakable and he was wearing a Fred Schneider kind of outfit: yellow converse, slacks, striped shirt and a pork-pie hat.

I passed by him, and a dozen feet further on noticed he was now behind me, so I turned around and figured I’d say something because I like interacting with celebrities or otherwise insinuating myself into their space. Why not?

“You’re Fred Schneider aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I grew up on the B-52s and I think you guys are fantastic.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank You.”

And that was it. I went one way and he went the other. I guess the other reason I like to interact with these people when I get the chance is I really do like to thank musicians and artists for what they gave me. I’m not that cynical to think it doesn’t matter to them.