Monday weekend roundup

I think this was one of the strangest weekends of my life.

It was filled with both triumph and tragedy.

And I don't know how exactly to express the tragedy.

My weekend started at The Smell with a particularly punk electro evening featuring Damage Effect, Not The Government, and Babyland.







Babyland really brought the crowd out and I don't know what to say about them other than their percussion could have been mistaken for scrap metal. And yet, there was a computer involved. And sparks and aerosol sprays and screaming.

I would have liked to get closer, but the floor was packed and the fans seemed quite devoted. Something like this:



And this is one of my favorite photos of the evening. Whoever we are, whatever we look like, wherever we come from...we are all lovers.



Since I was in the neighborhood I drove out to the Corn Field for a bike party. I snuck up in my vehicle because I was embarrassed of it!

The scene was playful anarchy, a band of Lost Boys on bikes wheeling around in Santa Claus suits and doing drugs out in the open. Inside they were spinning vinyl and when I heard Orange Juice's Rip It Up I just had to dance.

And out came the camera.







I got out of bed on Saturday in time to Metro down to the Airliner for the Not The Government video shoot with Lloyd Kaufman.

Six hours on my feet, drunk by 2:00pm (Which meant I had a hangover by 6:00pm), little to no food in my stomach, and moshing take after take culminated in fake blood splattered all over me in one of the coolest special effects shots I've had the pleasure to be a part of.



Got home in time for an appearance at a holiday beer tasting and then I was off to Special Disco Version with LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy.

The party was good and the people were pretty. Murphy spun a wicked vinyl set and any night where I get to dance to a BeeGees' song off of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack is a good one.







On Sunday a friend and I went riding and happened upon this:



A 1928 Merceds Benz.

We returned with my camera so I could snap a couple of photos for my father. The owner - tremendously pleased to show off his museum pieces - took us into the garage where he was restoring this perfect beauty:



When I asked if he rents them out, he said, "No, they're just for me."

I came home, cleaned, and prepared for the coming week.

Now this is where things get a little dark.

On Friday night a friend of mine at the Corn Field party lost his bike when a car ran over it, totaling it. The bike had been parked and he's okay, but a bike is like a best friend, especially when you've assembled it yourself.

On Saturday night I came home from the video shoot to learn that another friend of mine lost her two year old baby. They woke up and she was gone.

And on Sunday night I found out that the friend of yet another friend of mine ran into a guy she liked at Special Disco Version. After talking, they realized how much they liked each other, and spent the night holding hands.

He died sometime after I left from a fall down the stairs.

Which means I was hesitant to post my photos from that night. It's difficult looking at them, populated with smiling beautiful people, knowing that tragedy lurks at the edge of the frame.

But Sam said it was important to post them, to remember life, to remember how precious and fragile it is. To remember the better times.

On Friday night I came home, pouting for stupid reasons. There was something I wanted but did not get. It was something stupid.

By the end of the weekend, I was simply grateful for my life, for the lives of the people in it. Of course things are not perfect and of course some things are not where I would like them to be...but I am here and you are here, and I have enough to get by.

And I want to let you know how much I love you.



Our lives are small, fragile, and beautiful, and I am not religious, but I believe that life is sacred.

You can lose someone in a moment.

It only takes a moment to say, "I love you."

My heart goes out to everyone touched by tragedy this weekend.