Thursday, June 3, 2010

Start Spreading the News

The last few updates have been from my phone, that is a tedious and grueling process. I'm currently on my brother's computer. So now would be a good time for a real update.

The Drive: Music is our friend. The battle of the play lists took a good chunk out of the start. Unsurprisingly, both lists had a number of the same songs. It just goes to show that certain songs will always be known as driving songs; I.E. Forhat's "Slow Ride." This is also the only song any one has ever heard by Foghat. The majority of the trip was making fun of other drivers, commenting on the racist signs for "South of the Border," and wondering why dusk went on for about 5 hours. There was also a blood moon last night. Ominous.

Morning: It took us 17 hours to get from Boca Raton to Brooklyn. We arrived at 5 in the am. Dusk broke through the skyscrapers of NY like the heavens seeping through an ancient stain glass window. The colors blessed and enthralled the exhausted Pilgrims. We met up with my brother and his wife, they went to work, we slept until 1:00.

New York City: Me and the Wingman left to go to The Metropolitan Museum. This is Wingman's first time in enchanting NYC. Thus, he took his first subway ride. This is the part where I lost him for a solid 30 minutes. We get through and the train pulls up, I note that this is the one we want. I get in, boom, it closes. Later Wingman quotes that I got on via Indian Jones style. So, I get off at the next stop, thinking Wingman will get on the next train. He does, but he doesn't get off there. By some sort of shift in the cosmos, I reached him on the phone. He tells me he's at Broadway. I get back on the train, go to East Broadway. I don't see him. So I figure he's at the other Broadway three exists down. Again, I don't see him. Somehow I get him on the phone again. He says he's at East Broadway. So I tell him to come to me, I wait at the exit, and we meet up. Opps.

The Met was awesome as always. I think the Wingman found Zen. Pictures were taken, are was viewed, times were had. The Met never disappoints. There was a killer Picasso exhibit. My bro caught up with us, we took a walk through Central Park, got some NY pizza, and hit a bar for a bit. At this point we realized we were beyond tired. Thus we went back to the apartment, watched the end of "Tomb Raider," and had awesome sleep.

On a final note, the end of "Tomb Raider" makes 0 sense is you haven't seen the rest of the movie. A robot, guns on a platter, "Where's Your Head At" in the ears. Unknown. Also, how about that robbed perfect game... watched that too... painful.