Ich mag den dunklen Kaffee.

December 7, 2006

I have only a few spare days in New York in December. I’ve had three days between the end of the BNL tour and flying out to Minneapolis to overdub guitars on the new record for a week (I split tomorrow). Then I’m home for the two Jersey gigs, and a few days after that, and then it’s off to Germany.
I managed to get out of my place yesterday and run errands, which is generally hard for me, when I’m drained by a long tour.
I just broke up with my girlfriend, so I’m in that half-tripping extremely sad and grieving but weirdly liberated state. Like you have extremely long hair and you cut it all off and wake up the next morning and you are freaked out suddenly to not feel the weight of your hair, except by “hair” I mean something more like “arm.” I was trudging kind of zombie-like in the Herald Square station changing trains, and coming up the stairs I heard these phenomenal loud drums, and I wondered, is that Mecca Bodega?
Mecca Bodega are these brothers, Mackie and Juba, who I met years ago playing in a band called Wisdom Tooth. They’re very committed to playing in the subway, almost as a spiritual practice. They did the soundtrack, and were recurring faces in, that Rosie Perez HBO show, Subway Stories.
I see them in the trains every couple of years. There they were, and there was a big circle of people around them. I managed to catch Mackie’s eye, and mid-drumming his face lit up at me, like, It’s you! And we smiled at each other, and then I caught Juba’s eye and we were both like, It’s you!
I pointed to an invisible watch on my wrist, and then toward the Q train, like, I have to go, and everybody nodded, smiling. It was a perfect silent reunion in the middle of all the thunderous drumming.
Listened to them echoing up the stairs and through the station as I stood on the Q platform until some guy came and messed up my high by playing “Jingle Bells” on the French horn.