Our Urban Odyssey » film

The Eternal Robin Byrd

Nova — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 18:37:23 +0000

Have a basic cable TV question for you (those who are up at ungodly hours of the night or early morning). How on earth is Robin Byrd still on the air? The question doesn’t question the Queen’s throne of hosting the Sesame Street equivalent of sexual health for many of us growing up in the 80’s who were able to sneak a peak. C is for… Clitoris, of course! Do you know where your clitoris is? Here let me show you… And so on, goes her show, offering the same type of diversity as the innocent PBS counterpart. There is something for all tastes there: gender preferences, body images and fetishes. But my Lord, breast implants have come along way since the jugs you see on the show- two stiff orbs with as much space between them as the north and south poles. Brazilians (as in the haircut down south) have become the staple of today’s porn, but at Robin’s you’re sure to see a bush. Yet her shows continue to be aired, with a phone number to call into to boot (the original 970 number?). And the commercials (advertising hotlines and escort services) are the same ones from back then too. So I guess my question is, is this a cult classic? Is it supposed to appeal to that generation who grew up with it and still find those hairstyles and lack of airbrush and make-up titillating? I guess I could google it, but afraid 0f what else I’ll dredge up and’ll hijack my computer. She really means to teach you something, not just get you off. Ever see the musical orgy endings? How isn’t it Sesame Street? I’ll take a cookie, you little monster. With a tall glass of milk. She shows love to each and every one of her guests.

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The Lincoln Center Posse

Nova — Sun, 23 May 2010 03:10:38 +0000

The Lincoln Center area of NYC has a strong geriatric pose. One must be cognizant of this posse when invading their turf. Some tips include:

Do not yell out how sore you are from last night’s whips and windmills. Didn’t get too many good looks on the foreign film line with that one. Actually, anyone who doesn’t on-2 wouldn’t get that I was referring to turn patterns.
Do not argue with the 65 year old lady who watched the entire sub-titled movie with bronze-tinted sunglasses on who insists to you that the film was in black and white, when you clearly saw the film in color. Do not wait for her after the movie to continue the argument. You may be jumped in the bathroom.
Do not expect to go too fast walking down the sidewalk. Embrace it and be patient. They made it this far, hats off.
Dress it up a little bit lest you be a Raggedy-Anne in a sea of black and white tuxes, minks, full suits, etc.
Only they can yell loud to hear one another if someone of their pack is hard of hearing. If you are loud, you are an unruly, rude youth without class.
Mourn, seeing the crowd who is slowly invading their turf… Oh, what horror is raining down upon the Upper West Side!

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Craig, darling…Don’t do it.

Nova — Tue, 11 May 2010 23:53:02 +0000

Craig Ferguson Fans and Fans of Nightime Odysseys:

I have not been up all that much but when I have been fortunate to hear the sultry voice of the Late, Late show I’m catching the warning signs of a changing relationship. Toying with the formula? Flirting with an earlier spot? Say it aint so!

the stage is better lit. Turn down the lights! You’re ruining the mood. Don’t you get that for a lot of women you’re doing more than simple jokes? You know that! Look at how every woman melts in the chair during an interview.
a skeleton side kick? Ok sorta of funny, but hopefully not because you think you need one like the other hosts use.
More jingles for recurring skits?
a shorter haircut (and not the longer, floppy, just-f*cked you teased hair?)

Just pointing out some of the obvious signs that are tampering with a formula.

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Another man shares my bed

Nova — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 05:49:37 +0000

Part of Urban Confessions Week

…These are not the words you’d expect from someone married, partnered or involved… but it’s true! C-mixto finds me in bed with him every night like clockwork. He has come to recognize his voice when the covers block out his face, and rolls his eyes when he realizes that I am in bed with Craig Ferguson. Craig Ferguson! How I’ve developed quite an appetite to stay up late and watch you! How can it be avoided? You are truly a gifted comedian from what I see from your show, and the philosophic words of your theme song have convinced me that “tomorrow is” truly my “future yesterday” so I might as well stay up and be entertained.

You are one of the few celebrities I’ve actually taken an interest in learning more about, even buying your memoir (which sort of provoked this series, because I feel a little shame in this). It is probably your ability to keep my attention and evoke a sincere laugh from me that has spawned this regular habit of watching you. Your performance is fluid, jokes are spared the staleness often inherited from rehearsals. You are truly a one-man-act.

I have to say (does this constitute a double confession, one now to you?)… lately I have been watching your shows online the day after it airs at a time more convenient for me. It’s fun, but, sigh… not the same as the intimacy of sneaking off with you at 12:35am while others are asleep.

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The Galactic Senate in NYC

Nova — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 21:04:39 +0000

Any of you been to the Rose Theater at the new Jazz in Lincoln Center at the 59th Street Columbus Circle complex? It is amazing. It is straight out of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, a replica of the Galactic Senate! Not only is this an architectural beauty, the acoustics are amazing and the lights of the entire auditorium change along with the music. Music becomes not just something you listen to, but experience.

Doesn’t matter if the concert isn’t your thing… Let your imagination soar while in those comfy seats. Pretend you’re a delegate from earth, trying to catch the eye of cougar Queen Amidala or a young, muscular Jedi just as he’s exploring his dark side.

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War of the Worlds

Nova — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 16:53:51 +0000

So here’s the apocalyptic side to “a festival of lights”. So it’s fine and dandy to witness the glories of the cosmos (like the recent Geminids meteor shower) and have near religious experiences in the process. Here’s what f*cks with your head either as a series of coincidences accompanying the shower, or the government trying to subtly tell you something:

The Syfy (Scifi) channel or some channel was showing back to back movies about alien invasions. I couldn’t help but watch “War of the Worlds” which turned out to be a very, very bad idea. The remake of War of the Worlds plays on pretty much every fear you could have: alien ship attacks, alien robot attacks, air planes going down, drowning in cars, Titanic-like boat going down, aliens that incinerate you indiscriminately, aliens that capture you and put you in a metal farmers’ market basket until they are ready to thrust their tentacle through you and suck out all of your blood, human kind’s extermination, mob hysteria, loosing your child, apocalypse. For those who didn’t see the new War of the Worlds: the aliens arrive in a stream of lightening bolts from the sky. So I couldn’t help but have a lump in my throat while watching the Geminids meteor shower.
Also, for some reason, the powers that be seem to be testing the “Emergency Alert System” out. A lot. You know, that horrible nuclear bomb alert sound followed by, “This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast system. If this had been an actual emergency…” Those who saw War of the Worlds will know that this same message was being broadcasted during the alien invasion, saying “this is a TEST of the emergency broadcast system”–a test– even though it was sure damn well past an emergency. This test was playing on my TV upon my return of watching the Geminids meteor shower. These series of events are a great way to become an insomniac, but I don’t know if I was scared or more annoyed by the fact that the announcement said “this is a test of New Jersey’s emergency broadcast system”. New Jersey? I’m not in New Jersey! Are you telling me that in the event of an emergency Inwoodites are screwed because Manhattan forgets we exist and New Jersey is calling us theirs even though there is a freakin river between us? Inwoodites better start building rafts and canoes because it looks like we will be screwed.
The Hadron seems to be up and running again.

The broadcast alerts are still going on… Just when War of the Worlds was receding from my mind a day later, as I dozed off with a smile on my face listening to Craig Furgeson, suddenly, in the middle of one of his jokes, the horrible nuclear bomb alert sound blasted like a siren with a “test” message. Success in finding a sound that will jerk anyone out of a soundful sleep.

So take it as fiction and believe what you will. The arts are a great way to send mass messages to people: either to have us buy something, to act a certain way, to serve as a mirror for our fears and desires, or to subtly prepare us for an alien invasion.

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Mission: Space

Nova — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 04:07:38 +0000

Wannabe Astronauts, Trekkies, and Nova-sympathizers, listen up: If you want the thrill of your life and don’t have millions of dollars or the balls for the real thing, Mission: Space should be your pilgrimage in life. It might very well be the closest thing you’ll have to a real space odyssey. A spiritually uplifting moment (to make up from the tears of joy shed on the Silver Golf Ball, to be blogged about soon) that I can only describe as a mind-f*ck if it wasn’t real and I didn’t really go to Mars.

The staff all have space uniforms. You’re given a choice of baby trip or full throttle experience from lift off to landing. Scared sh*tless, I choose the real thing. You go through a briefing (shut up who cares that I was screaming in glee and the 8 year old kid next to me was unphased). You are given an assignment in the ship (engineer, pilot, navigator, and something else). I won’t tell you my disappointment on being navigator since I can’t even drive a car and am told I fail even as co-pilot. Then you’re strapped in a space pod (claustrophobia be damned because you are trapped in that sh*t until the ride is over) with your three companions and BOOOOOOOOOOM. You watch a screen that f ing convinces you that you are lifting off, and you are stuck to your seat unable to move from the force. Apparently you are in a centrifuge but the screen tricks your body that you are where your eyes tell you.

Apologies for screaming Mother F*cker with that 8 year old engineer next to me (who might have been choking in his own vomit from the sound of it). The computer gives you prompts as to when you are supposed to push specific buttons for the ship to work. I made sure to yell to the 8 year old engineer to make sure he knew what to do.

I had two tasks- hitting thrusters to use the moon’s gravitational force to pivot to Mars, and then I think to redirect the ship to avoid an asteroid… I completed the first task…. but failed the second. I can’t tell you how traumatized I am from that. And here’s the other kicker. When we f ing finally crash landed the ride was over, leaving us… ON MARS! HOW CAN THEY DO THAT after convincing us it was real?

Mission:Space. If I’m ever lost, look for me on Mars. I’m somewhat convinced Disney left me there in their own Martian version of Disney World.

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You’ve got style, Miami

Nova — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:18:28 +0000

Major check off urban odyssey bucket list: sing this song into the Miami skyline in your bikini.

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Space Odyssey in Washington Heights

Nova — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 14:41:18 +0000

This installment sits in the secluded woods of Fort Tryon Park by the dog run. I think it is a cleverly disguised black monolith from the movie: 2001: A Space Odyssey. Instead of apes jumping up and down to its presence and hum, you have dogs barking around it, perhaps triggering some evolutionary spark in them so that dogs evolve into their anagram: gods. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, visit the black monolith link.

If it’s not a disguised black monolith, then it is an ode to the types of radiators we have in Washington Heights.

Your thoughts?

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thanks for depressing me, PBS

Nova — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:55:25 +0000

Saturday night… 9pm-1am on PBS is an exciting part of my week. After some jolly British comedy (Keeping up Appearances, As Time Goes By) I await the classic film (will change the channel if it’s not black and white), a short film, and if I’m still up, an Independent film. So PBS is celebrating Hispanic Heritage month so it lines up “Stand and Deliver”, (a hilarious short animation “The Lost Tribes of New York City“), and then the independent film, “Manito” shot in Washington Heights. Celebrate Hispanic Heritage! Let’s watch two films that show just how fun it is to be poor and brown. Your schools suck, your teachers mostly suck except for that one that believes in all human potential and sticks it out in the system as long as he/she can, and even if you do get good grades you will be accused of cheating because you’re not supposed to achieve anything. (Stand and Deliver). Learn the necessity of being a hustler to get bills paid, male promiscuity, how the hood swallows you no matter your SAT scores or scholarship offers, and poverty is a viscous cycle that brings you down. (Manito). I look forward to Masterpiece Theatre tonight.

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