So the first New York show was fun. It all started with a picnic in central park (for those of you who attended but are as bad with names as I am, you may recall me as the massive redheaded guy). It was attended only by the most fabulous and glamorous people (in keeping with David's and Julie's request on the invitation; special thanks to the unglamorous for staying away) including England's own Mark Casarotto, Sandra and Sarah and Nicola and Karolyne and Katrina from Team Canada, Chris and Susanna and that vaguely vanilla-scented David fellow from down under, and more Americans than you can shake a stick at (I tried. It had a paper plate stuck on it and still no luck), including most of the New York #sinister contingent, two very mean little girls, and loads of gorgeous people who'd traveled many miles to meet me and remind me to bring cheap red wine in prune juice jars next time. Or maybe I dreamt that last part. At any rate, as regards the people who *were* there, their countries and states were all the worse for their having been at our little picnic by the great lawn instead of their homes. In fact, Britain got a little drunk and called me late Sunday night, choking back tears and begging to have Mark back. It was really an embarrassing situation for everyone involved, but I don't think we can in good conscience hand him over until Britain seeks some help or just gets over it. Then we had an intermission and reconvened at the concert hall. The Aislers Set were great in spite of some technical difficulties, and golly that bassist is cute. Then we waited. And waited. Eventually, Belle and Sebastian took the stage. The first thing I noticed (which proved to be massively true by the end of the show): Stevie is a natural born rock star. Bona fide. I don't remember the setlist, but it was rad and it was full of good Belle and Sebastian songs. And then we went to the bar where Chris was spinning after the show. That Beans is some kind of DJ, I'll tell you what. My body still hurts from busting a move. Ask anyone who's ever tried to get me to dance, and they'll tell you that I do not dance. Ask anyone who was there last night and they'll tell you that I do not dance well, but dance I did (after sufficiently boozing my oh-so-sinister shyness into submission). Behold the awesome powers of the Geddes turntables! And Wild Turkey! So yeah, the short version: met lots of great people, saw a fantastic show, and managed not to hurt anyone (badly) whilst doing my impression of a dance and drinking like it was my job. Good times. After all that and another (only partially sinister) party in the middle, I should like to *ahem* sleep the clock around, but I'm afraid I've got some tigermilking to do tonight. Maybe I'll see you there. xo, Will Porter P.S. Katrina from Halifax: my co-worker from Halifax is friends with the librarian from Halifax that you mentioned. Small world, eh? __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Health - your guide to health and wellness http://health.yahoo.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+