People,

On Saturday we took the rock show to an abandoned New York City. The place was literally a ghost town, with everyone off doing family things and missing the best damned rock show of their lives. Ok, that part isn't true. We were pretty tired and the show was downright mediocre, but what can you do?

Anywho, the true magic of the evening came not on stage, but on the ride down. We were stuck in traffic on the FDR when suddenly Jordan shouted "they're playing porn in that car!" We all though he was full of crap, but sure enough, when the car (a Ford expedition) passed us it was indeed showing porn on one of those on-board DVD players. And not soft-core porn either. This was in-your-face hard core porn, the kind that you watch with a mix of fascination, revulsion and the unshakeable feeling that what you're watching must have hurt a lot.

Now folks, I'm actually not that big a fan of pornography, but when the choice is between watching porno or listening to one of Brendo Frendo's inane stories, that I've heard a million times before, I go for the porno. So Pete maneuvered us into a prime postion behind the porn car and stuck to it's bumper like glue for the remaining half hour that we were in traffic. This arrangement worked well until Pete mentioned that he'd be much happier if they were instead showing re-runs of Rhoda, which made us all realize that we too would rather be watching Rhoda.

It was one of the more surreal experiences that has come with being in this band.