Labor Day antics

Hmm, and indeed, hmm. It's been a good Labor Day vacation so far, other than my bike's chain snapping when I was about ten blocks away from home this morning. (Could have been worse; could have been Coney Island...) Been biking, and kayaking, and catching up on far too many movies I've either been intending to see, or keep seeing in pieces, out of order: Shallow Grave, Strictly Ballroom, The Guru, (and I have to say here that although she's clearly hopeless as any sort of serious actress, I do find the fact that Heather Graham is utterly incapable of keeping the appropriate expression on her face in any sort of emotionally intense scene before another expression randomly replaces it, rather endearing), El Mariachi, (which I saw at an early New York screening about ten years ago, actually), and Brian De Palma's Femme Fatale. (Oh, dear. Oh dearie dear. De Palma's every bit the master of the camera he once was, but his dialogue... oh me, oh my. Singular, to say the least. Although Rebecca Romijn Stamos' delivery probably adds to its... unique qualities.) Still trying to decide where I want to be on the 11th, and suspect that I am not alone in this.

Other than that... ran into baldanders and roadnotes in Washington Square Park today; wound up heading over to piano bar, where... Well, suffice to say that the chap- who was so tall that his head kept bumping the track lighting- who gave an energetic performance of "Let's Get Physical" was one thing, but being serenaded by Ben (an elderly man with a falsetto that wouldn't shame Aaron Neville) with "One Night Only" provided conclusive proof that I'm not in Kansas anymore.

So, how's your Labor Day weekend been?