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At the Pine Box Theatre, I think it's called, in Bushwick. The place was lousy with hipsters, as expected.

Usually, I ignore subway performers, and dismiss them as a noisy interruption of my already noisy sequence of interruptions on my commute. But when two white boys with violins roll up, I think it’s worthy of removing my headphones. Very nice.

After an exhausting week, I stepped out with Craig and Lisa to the grand re-opening of Tower Records for the Never Can Say Goodbye event, hosted by No Longer Empty, an arts advocacy group that revamps abandoned and closed spaces, often with an artsy twist.

Got to see old Drexel pals Naomi (who helped organise the event) and Sarah, with whom I used to dance.

While packed, the evening did show off some interesting music-themed artwork. Good stuff.

The rugby team, that is. Made the long, cold journey to the Upper East Side for a night of music and comedy. A team fundraiser/bonding experience. Even after all this time, it’s odd to see the fellas dressed in street clothes. Like when I was a lifeguard, or on the dance ensemble. The phrase “I’m not used to seeing you with clothes on” is thrown around, and yes, it has gotten awkward at times.

We braved the snow of Brooklyn to see Joaquin play the piano and entertain us during the brunch hour at the Manhattan Inn in Greenpoint. That about sums it up.

This being a recurring gig for Joaquin, it is most probable that I will find myself back there on weekend mornings, in spite of the terrible service and lack of skim milk.

In spite of the bitter chill of December, I managed to get Leah out for a bit of swing dancing. As expected, she’s a natural, and by the end of the night was moving like Ginger Rogers. Live music and Thai food made it a fun evening all around.

As Summer expires, we accept that there are fewer and fewer chances to wander outside and enjoy the City. With Rashan, freshly laid off from his job of nearly two years, we watched two rather bad movies, Jennifer’s Body and Surrogates. Then to the park, where a band later identified as The Loose Marbles played for a crowd of summery onlookers.

Sadly, I was partnerless, and unable to provide the folks with some swing-based entertainment.

First, to sort of party/networking event for Ignite NYC. I’m afraid I didn’t actually make it inside the auditorium to hear the presentations, because I immediately headed uptown to hang wit Leah and see a taping of Spectacle, the Elvis Costello show.

My first time at the Apollo and my remarks are pretty much the same as everyone else’s: very small, but dig the artful engravings, etc. Well maintained, good sound.

A long night, with taping having run a solid 3 hours for a 1-hour (or rather, 42-minute) show. It will be interesting to see how they edit the whole thing down.

The weary New Yorker may not entirely understand, but after a week of Puerto Rico I’m ready to head home. The heat, sun, animals, spotty television and phone service, cars breaking down, and generally eccentricity of my family (and extended family) are all good for a few days, but not for extended sets.

In typical fashion, we were late out of the gate, and got sidetracked buying breakfast, refueling, picking people up, taking stops, buying hammocks, looking at crabs, and taking the long way to the airport so we could deposit Mischa and Gabe to an entrance for El Yunque.

Somehow, we made to the airport in time. There was still plenty of sitting around to be had. Star Trek played on the flight home, which was a nice surprise. Crappy headphones and monitors tried their best to ruin the experience, but alas, I enjoyed the movie. That’s about the best part of the day.

It’s good to be back. I suppose I could have gotten a better tan.

An another move that could certainly be categorised as “good clean fun”, Bonetti and I stepped out to McCarren Park in Williamsburg for an outdoor viewing of the modern-day classic, Reality Bites, which is celebrating its 15 years! Oddly, most of the themes are universal, although the clothing is fast becoming outdated.

Overall, this was a good time. The hipsters were out in droves, but managed to behave themselves. The only complaint I can muster is that we were pitched on the concrete kickball field, and not any sort of grass surface. Not the most picnicky situation, after all.

Oh, and my favourite line from the movie is definitely “I was really going to be somebody by the time I was 23.”

I don’t look bad in Laura’s glasses, do I?