YET ANOTHER RANT

I find myself in New York City for the week for work. And yes, I am still torn about how much I miss this city. After a long day at work and yearning for some sort of entertainment, I decided to see what the great city has to offer.

Since I plan on going to the Tribeca Film Festival Drive-In tomorrow, I opted for the arts. I debated going to TKTS since I'm a block away. I entertained Yankees tickets (good thing I didn't go since they lost). I remembered that Lincoln Center isn't too far away, so I went to see what was up there.

Turns out they had the Akram Khan Dance Company performing in their New York premiere- a fusion of modern and kathak (one of the six major classical dances of India) dance. For those whom I haven't spoken to in a while, I happen to be embracing my South Asian neighbors - I've been a serious fan of Indian film, music, and culture for, well, my whole life, but really getting into it with fervor over the past six months. I'm even learning sitar, which is pretty damn cool and I'm sure I'll tell you all about it soon.

So, obviously, I was drawn to it.

After finding out that they still had a good deal of tickets left, I hopped over to the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle - which, P.S., is a fantastic place to spend some time because it's a cool damn place.

I was rather excited, given that I was finally going to a live Indian performance. Imagine my surprise when I bought my tickets to find out that they also had a late performance of Sapthaakshara in their U.S. debut after the dance performance. They perform Indian classical percussion. So I bought two of the best seats left for both performances, preparing for a night of sublime Desi culture.

In getting the best seats, I neglected to think about the particular sight lines of this theatre, having never seen it before. Sure, I was in the second row. But the lip of the stage was high, they had monitors and lights in the way, and a majority of the performance involved the dancers rolling around the floor.

The opening of the show paired two dancers in an elaborate yoga pose telling a rather funny story. They were soft-spoken, but mostly due to the very strange position they were in - both arms extended to the ground, one leg lifted to a diagonal across the body - basically as if they were about to get into a head stand and got distracted by something shiny halfway through and froze. It was cool to see.

I noticed the audience was an interesting mix of Lincoln Center regulars (you know, older folks with some serious money of the pale persuasion) and a good mix of South Asians.

The woman directly behind me happened to be an older woman with her husband and during the entire opening, she kept whispering, "I can't hear you!"

When I say whisper, I mean normal voice. She was disrupting the show, interrupting the story, and eventually the entire second row turned and loudly shushed her. At which point, she whispered something inaudible to her husband, though the whispering was still enough to distract us - at which point her husband loudly hushed back, "I'm sorry."

Neat.

I admit the performance was rather strange, but terribly interesting. There was some really amazing parts to it - and I think if I had been further back in the audience, I would have really really really enjoyed it.

All of us in the front had to crane our necks and move our heads at various points to see, so it was really very distracting and unideal. At which point, I notice a couple sitting in the middle of the front row.

I should mention that when this couple entered the space, the girl was like, "Oh, I don't want to sit there." And the usher calmly told her she couldn't change seats. Well, it was obvious why since the sight line was so bad, but it became apparent that she didn't really want to be there at all.

Because all the couple seemed to want to do was make out during the show. It was really obnoxious and annoying - I really don't give a damn about PDA, but if you're in the front and center of a show, have some damn restraint. They got it about 40 minutes into the show when they got up and left in the middle of a number. Yeah. Great.

Another pairing got up and left halfway through, but I suspect it was because they were getting frustrated they couldn't see properly. At least they waited until a blackout. Those are good theatregoers.

Between the shows, I hopped into a room they had where they had set up a really amazing jazz listening room (I was at Jazz at Lincoln Center, after all). That relaxed me again.

Sapthaakshara was next and I found out that I had again thought wrong when getting the tickets. This time, however, the theatre was amazing. It is settled in the front part of the Time Warner Center with high glass windows (all the way from the bottom floor - and we were on the 5th floor) overlooking Columbus Circle and Central Park. So I had an amazing view of the park. I just didn't have a great view of the show. They were sitting in a circle and one of them was directly in my line of view from watching the amazing percussion.

See, I'm a really really huge fan of Indian percussion instruments. Vikku Vinayakram (who is the head of the merry group) is considered the greatest living master of the ghatam, an ancient percussion instrument of South India which is basically a clay pot. He was breathtakingly amazing. The entire show was fun and fantastic - and I couldn't really see how they were playing it. And for all of you that know me, this was obnoxious to me, but at least I was in the front row, listening to amazing music and sounds, and overlooking Central Park.

So my night ended on a really great note. My soul feels great. But damn those audience members.

Right. Oh, and please tell me someone else thinks this picture is funny:

I know it's not a clear picture, but it's a NYC sewer cover (I think you can make it out).

But it reads: "NYC Sewer" in the middle and "Made in India" along the bottom. I find it highly amusing.

Just a great way to cap my Indian night, I suppose.

Holla.

WISDOM EXTRACTION

So I recently had my wisdom teeth removed. I thought this would be an experience that would be chalked up under my Traumatic Experiences files, given what they had told me before the surgery.

I was wrong. I don't remember a damn thing. Drugs get a bad reputation.

Yeah, I have holes in my gums. And my jaw, for that matter. The worst pain was when the novocaine wore off. That was awful. But they sent me home with a medicine cabinet that made everything good. And happy. Except that I had dull pain for two weeks, which I was content to do because I was intentionally under-dosing myself so I don't pull a Rush Limbaugh and get the shakes and sweats when it's all gone.

I'm doing well.

But my favorite part of the whole process is when the Oral Surgeon sits you down, explians what's up, then says something like, "Now, you may lose feeling in your jaw, lips, and mouth because of the proximity of the teeth to the nerve that runs alongside the under of your jaw. For the most part, it will go away after a few weeks. But given your age and the development of the teeth, there's a chance that this situation will be permanent. Okay?"

You sort of numbly nod your head, thinking, "Permanent? Seriously? I'll need a bib everytime I drink?"

Then they shove a clipboard with a disclaimer in front of your face and say, "This is just to acknowledge that we had this conversation, you understand the risks, and are going ahead." They start to leave and turn and say, "Oh, that we're not liable for loss of feeling in your mouth/gums/lips area."

Yeah, 'cause I went in and drilled the holes myself and thought it would be a good idea to personally re-enact the end scenes of The Princess Bride as Wesley - for the rest of my life.

What is that all about?