I can’t believe I am still alive…

So, as anyone looking at this stupid thing probably knows at this point, I went to the NIN concert last night.

I posted about half my pictures – the Sprint online services thing went down about halfway through. For a complete look, scope the sideshow here.

Over the weekend, there was a conversation about the Rolling Stones, and how they were still touring. I like the Stones as much as the next guy, but part of me wants to say “give it the fuck up guys”. Last night was something of an alteration to that perspective. I felt old, even before things started. There were kids there that were in diapers when NIN cut their first album. I felt like a dinosaur in an ice-age creature park.

Once the tunes started pumping though, I felt like I had 10 years stripped off my life. If a band as young as NIN can do something like that so someone that is still relatively young, I can only imagine what a band like the Stones can do to, say, someone my parents’ age. I don’t know that I will still be doing it then, or that any of the bands I think worthwhile will be, but fuck I hope so. My ears still hurt, and it feels great. I did some wonderful head banging (and didn’t give myself whiplash, like I did last time). I did do plenty of jumping around – the photojournalist in me refuses to let shit go buy unrecorded when I have something to record it with – hence all the pics. Apologies to everyone who didn’t like them =)

I had a fucking awesome time. Not the best NIN show I have ever been to, but pretty far from the worst. I’ve never seen them in a venue that small either, that was pretty goddamn rad. It was great sharing it with , , and . Thanks for the buyout .

When I got out of the concert and pushed through the mob, I checked my voice mail. My new roommate called me in a panic. He is currently planning to press charges against the subletters of his previous apartment, and needed to get whatever stuff he still had in his old apartment out before they got served.

AKA last night.

So, after walking to Zimbabwe and back on Sunday, then being on my feet/jumping around at the concert last night, I got a ride from uptown, and met him to help him move his stuff from the West Side on the 70’s to the guts of Washnington Heights. My blisters have blisters. The centerpiece of this move – a 100+lb big screen tv that HAS to have had some Flintstone tech involved (maybe they used slate for the tubes?). This fucker was so ginormous, I couldn’t get my arms around it and get a grip on each one of the handles. We waited for about 20 minutes to get a van-cab, which, ultimately, we jammed all his shit (and ourselves) into. He is sick, and sounds like he is on the verge of becoming seriously ill. I hope he did what I told him and took some goddamn NyQuil and went to bed.

I got done there and headed south, thinking to go home. Instead, I missed (by about 1 minute) a shooting at 125th street on the west side. The assailant jumped onto the tracks, and was running south. Nobody seemed to have been ‘shot’, but there were about 20 cops after this guy. Of course, no trains.

I decide to fuck the train, and go to 1020. I meet up with , have a few pints of LI iced tea to calm my nerves, watched the Yankees win again, then went to get a bite before I went home. I won 10$ on a ‘Win For Life’, and got home just before 2. It is at that point that I decided to fix the cable, which had been cut off at the source, again.

Got the internet working, then went to bed shortly thereafter. Nothing like clambering around exhausted on a harlem rooftop with 100 feet of coax to cap off a night.

I have been in back-to-back meetings all morning. I have so many things I have to do today, and my head is still rocking to the echoes of a great show. Despite the fact that it was less than 24 hours ago, it feels like it was about 20 years ago right now. I got a charley horse in my left calf this morning that I thought was going to make me grit my teeth so bad they would shatter (a la Kill Bill). I really want to take it easy tonight, but I gotta at least drop off laundry/dry cleaning. After I pick up my shoes – which I have three pairs of being re-soled.