The Electric Droids

This is not the Droid I’ve been looking for. Today’s column is going to be short and sweet, as I’ve got to get to my nearby phone store and return to the reality of my Blackberry. My Droid has proven to be just like most of my exes: lots of bells and whistles but not really capable of doing what I need done. My Blackberry couldn’t spin like a merry-go-round when I touched its screen. It didn’t have those cute little balloons to highlight my conversations. But it got me where I was going fast and reliably. Sometimes the old, the tried, and the true will get you to heaven better than the new. I’m just saying. My Blackberry didn’t belch “DROID” at me when I turned it on, but neither did it go through two batteries by mid-day. I guess belching and smoke and whistles require power. For me, power is controlling my short temper and not throwing anything against a wall. Am I being too subtle, or are you following me? Now excuse me while I kiss the sky — tonight, I’ll be heading to Rabbit in the Moon, my pal Rocco Ancarola’s spot on West 8th Street. They will be remembering Jimi Hendrix, who died on September 18th, 1970, at 27.

Rabbit On the Moon sits across the street from Jimi’s Electric Lady Studios. A long time ago, when my hair spoke more about me than my words, I chatted there with Meatloaf, who was taking a break. I would often hang out with friends and shoot the breeze. We’d rarify the air watching swells, hotshots, and groupie-types come and go. It was always a place of intrigue and culture, as everybody recorded there—even Jimi. The story is, after taking over the Generation Club with the intention of relaunching it, Jimi and his crew decided that what they really needed was a recording studio, not a club. After much delay, it opened on August 26, 1970. Jimi, I think, got only a day in the studio recording and then flew off to a concert overseas. He died 3 weeks later without coming back. Electric Lady is still there, like that guitar solo from Voodoo Child: relevant and brilliant after four long decades. Everybody still records there.

I haven’t been to Rabbit in the Moon, although I almost made it to that Oliver Stone Party for the new Wall Street 2 there. Rocco was in the original Wall Street, playing the waiter Michael Douglas asks to take care of a blown-away Charlie Sheen. He never quite made it as a movie star, but that’s probably because he’s just too nice a man. In a nightlife industry full of itself, crap, toads, and frogs, Rocco is the one most likely to turn into a Prince when kissed. The party tonight has a slew of celebrities attached, as the combined cache of Jimi and Rocco is an undeniable draw.

Tomorrow night I will absolutely attend the return of Music Maestro, Jennifly Green’s super sweet soiree’ at subMercer. She will be joined by DJ Spontaneous Underground. The return of subMercer puts a smile on my face and a little step in my dancing shoes. It is one of those super secret sweet spots that always delivers. Like my pal Spontaneous, it is underground and far from the maddening crowds. Door maestro Richard Alvarez conducts himself that way. He separates the riff and the raff from those who do know. I’ll be there for sure, and if you want to hook up just bbm me. Same number, better phone.

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