Amon Is An Old Friend

Amon and I go back to 1998, which may not seem that long ago, but I don't keep in touch with many people prior to that, maybe 2 or 3, so he classifies as an old friend. He lives in Brooklyn now and has been harassing me about visiting since we came back up north, so on a whim, we went. Here's how it went down.

We arrived late in the evening, around 11pm, Amon was waiting up. We were greeted by a strange tooth-replica wearing roommate who seemed determined to assure us of his awkward tendencies and then excused himself to vomit {no. Seriously}. We hastily retreated to Amon's room, a 10x12 pale yellow hovel lit only by a string of icicle lights and and TV screen. There may have been a carpeted floor but we couldn't tell thru the piles of clothes, books & CDs. For shame.


The decision to head out was made and after a quick stop to pick up a friend, a young hipster named Jen, we arrived at the Levee, a prototypical young hipster bar in Brooklyn. Goings-on, things you would expect at such a place {a prototypical young hipster bar in Brooklyn that is}, like the Yeah Yeah Yeah's blasting, lotsa tight jeans, vintage pinball machines & Yuenglings galore. Conversation touched on turbo gentrification, freak encounters with Asheknazis, our favorite member of the Broken Social Scene, and how none of us would survive in a world without Woody Allen films. The one saving grace was that this place served some delicious frito pie. Mmmmmm frito pie.


We got back to the hovel around 3am and proceeded to fold clothes, drink Heinekens {it's all we could find at 3am}, eat chocolate chip cookies & watch Fraggle Rock. This was a vast improvement. We were also treated to a hip-hop rhyme Amon has been working on, although not very dilligently. I may put it up on Youtube. I'll let ya know about it.


We woke promptly at noon the following morning and headed out in the rain in search of some food. We were starved. The east village was our destination, Café Orlin on St. Marks in specific. They had an attractive menu, but at that point we would have chewed our way thru the metal fences around Washington Square and fried up a nice fat squirrel. Thank god it didn't come to that.

Our order:
-Amon got the pan roasted goat cheese salad {which he proceeded to eat like a sea monster}


-Fran ordered the Indonesian grilled chicken w/ rice & spinach


-I had the mahi-mahi on couscous w/ seared onion


-bruschetta & a delectable mushroom ravioli in basil cream sauce was ordered for the table
-water all around

We decided to head over to Chelsea to see a film. We really wanted to see Strange Wilderness {sometime idiots just wanna laugh at other idiots} but the rainy day interfered. Wanting to laugh & cry, we decided to see The Savages starring Laura Linney & our hero Philip Seymour Hoffman. Another flawless movie. So far in the 2008 we are 4 for 4. Seriously, this is a great film. The kind that you jusy sit thru, unaware you're in a room full of strangers, & you don't realize how great it is til it's over and you're half way home and you say "Wow, that was such a great movie!".

We tried to meet up with Greg afterwards, but he's a sleepyhead and had a busy tomorrow. Walking walking walking thru the streets, why take the subway on such a night. We stocked up on some dinner supplies and headed back across the East River. After drowning in a sea of roommates {while one wore a long t-shirt & spoke five languages, only using them to translate foreign DVDs, another assured us that he does not consider Atlanta as a part of Georgia due to it's inability to reconcile with its' dark past, and yet another was too smug to engage us in pleasantries because of some ongoing drama between him and the house, shucks}, we settled in for a cozy evening of music, hot dogs and beer. At the pinnacle of Grizzly Bear's Yellow House I happened to glance over to see how it was reading, but got nothing. Fran & Amon had passed out.


How long had they been that way? Who knows. I finished out the album, put on the remaining episodes of Fraggle Rock from the night before and passed out myself, without reservation.


We had to leave this morning, Fran had work at 1. So after some fresh cinnamon rolls we got to experience firsthand how transcending Jens Lekman can be driving the streets of Brooklyn. We weren't even upset when they messed up our order at McDonalds or when we had to pay the $9 toll crossing the Verrazano.

In conclusion, We love Amon. I mean, who else can you sing Smiths songs in the subway with, play suicide-charades, or have a heated discussion over what Radiohead album actually thrusted them into their genius status, and whether or not it was justified or too little too late? Amon Amon Amon. We will go back, when he gets the chance to clean his room and buy an aerobed.

Some extra photos from our visit...