Coping with the Election: Five Tattoos in Two Days
As each new news day brings me a bit closer to the reality of President Romney, I seek distraction. I found some last weekend at Magic Cobra Tattoo Society and Three Kings, where I got five tattoos in two days. The pain that I’m used to distracted me from the debates. I keep wondering what kind of retarded hermit could be "undecided" at this point. It seems that Ohio will decide it all, and I rue that day when people in Ohio decide my fate. I spent a year in Cleveland one night and Akron made Cleveland seem like Vegas. Don’t get me started on Cincinnati.
I remember that horrible election night when Bush beat Gore or whatever happened. I was at Spa where we were hosting Hillary Clinton’s victory bash. Ben Affleck was there, and I kept bringing him into the office where Florida was the decider. By the way, Mr. Affleck is the nicest guy in the world. He was in tears as victory turned into defeat. Now I am fearful again. It seems like déjà vu, and no amount of ink will save me, although I’m getting another tattoo this weekend. For this election, I will head to White Rabbit, 145 E. Houston St., to pray as WashMachine presents Electoral Ruckus. My pal Joy Rider is part of the crew hosting this affair, and she always delivers and has a nice shoulder for me to cry on if it comes to that. Not sure what’s happening at the event, but here’s what they say:
Hot wire the coverage, hijack the commercials, and re-edit real time: live audio/video manipulation of Election Day TV broadcasts by sound artist Jason Candler and experimental filmmaker Jimi Pantalon. Making your vote count all night long w/ DJs Cru Jones and The Butcha.
This sounds like fun. Until then I’ll check out my pal Clair Reilly-Roe at Aroma Espresso Bar, 161 W. 72nd St., tonight at 8pm or probably head back to Magic Cobra for a Hope tattoo. I was there the other night for the Paul Nathan book signing event hosted by Sailor Jerry Rum. Joe Truck, who owns the joint but now spends most of his time out west, and I compared notes on old places and old friends. It seems like we have been in the same room at the same time a zillion times. And it’ll probably happen again since I saw this killer Picasso tattoo he did and now I want it. My regular artist at the shop Adam Korothy is off to New Orleans for a convention. I’m very worried, and there aren’t enough tattoos or Sailor Jerry Rum or singers at coffee shops to calm me down. Halloween might help…more on that tomorrow.