Still haven’t gotten to the grocery store, still too poor to go out to eat…so after (hopelessly) shopping at Loehmann’s on 73rd, I hopped the C train with Boy to meet DK at Rudy’s in Hell’s Kitchen. This is our go-to spot since Boy & I feel ripped off if a bar doesn’t give us food with our plumb-cheap beverages.

The Giants game was on the tube, but so was the RNC…there seemed to be a war over the remote. No worries for true-blooded Americans will always pick the redskin over any politics.

Rachel, Alex & I at Rudy's

Beers and a few hot dogs later, I called it dinner and….deliberated over going to see “Tropic Thunder” or “The House Bunny”…but decided to do neither, went home & watched Bones reruns before sleepering at midnight. Fabulous!

P.S. There are ONLY condiments in the fridge a la “Fight Club”…

Mojai: Funk Is Not Dead in D.C.

I never expect to find good things when I head back to my hometown. It is a perfunctory experience. At best, I spend most of the time in my bedroom or playing with my dog or the random friends I still keep in touch with since high school graduation. At worse, I run into particularly shady ex-friends.

But the pleasant surprise still comes my way. I met up with my friend Rachel in Adams Morgan to check out a funk band, Mojai , and I’m sure glad I did.

While the video is, I’ll admit, a bit poor, the music is transcendental, transparent and rhythmic in its sometimes lullaby-quality, sometimes jazz-jam quality, even with little notes of hard-rock. The keyboards, guitar, bass guitar and seemingly millions of saxophones mesh into brilliant notes. Great for dancing, great for the general vibe of the bar (The Space).

And, I love music sometimes that is just purely instrumental. Lyrics sometimes get in the way of, however cheesy this sounds, the “melody”. You can’t ignore dueling saxophones, but you can ignore (or try to) bad lyrics.

During a funky long keyboard sesh