It's not a bad jam going for the first half, but wait for Prince's solo about half way through the clip. Especially when someone starts trying to sing over the top of him. Never do that to such a pimped out, badass purple paisley motherfucker. Even if you are Tom Petty. And even if he is only like, 5'2" and 105 lbs. At least he pauses every once in awhile to give Dhani Harrison what seems to be a genuinely warm smile while he proceeds to give everyone else a musical beat-down. So what if that doesn't seem very George Harrison-like for a tribute show to George Harrison? You don't invite Prince to a gig and then put him in a box.

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Let me show you them.

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I was out of coffee filters so I rode down to McNulty's, a coffee store on Christopher Street that's run by a couple of old Irish blokes, over lunch. The weather was in the mid-60s and it was sunny...basically a perfect day in the west village.

I was headed back to midtown when I came across FDNY's Ladder 5 the phoenix at the intersection of West 10th Street and West 4th Street. Ladder 5 hails from the company that lost two fire fighters in the Deutsche Bank blaze a couple of years ago.

West 4th street has always been one of my favorite streets because it's the only numbered street in Manhattan that intersects with other numbered streets. I'd also like to point out the messenger from Supreme in the video. As soon as the ladder pulls out, he slides over behind it and follows it through a red light in a classic messenger move.

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Yesterday the Star ran an opinion piece highlighting their "green" efforts such as recycled paper and soy ink. They failed to mention the most obvious factor: the slow death of the newspaper as we know it. National news, world news, local news, business, opinion and obits were all squeezed into one 18-page section instead of 26-30 pages over three sections.

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I was checking out the headlines at the NYT when I saw this ad for uscanteen. While positioning metal canteens as a money-saving and environmentally sound choice, instead of what you'd find at Herman's Military Antiques, is interesting, I don't know if it's going to work.

First, there are cheaper and lighter metal bottles out there. Second, they're trying to promote the canteen carriers as fashion accessories. While there have been water bottles that have become fashionable like the Nalgene bottles, I just can't see spending $120 on something that can only be used to carry my water bottle. I already generally carry a bag, why would I want something else strapped over my shoulder?

US Canteen's advertising campaign is intriguing, but it's not going to get me to give up my Platy bottle and it looks like I'm I'm not the only one. There are also those who are mocking the NYT for running this ad on its frontpage.

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When I was riding into work today up Lafayette Street, an FDNY tiller truck passed me at East Houston. As I pulled behind it after it passed me, things got weird at Great Jones Street. It was still going at a good pace and then, all of sudden, its rear began to fishtail. It took me a second to realize that it was a controlled fishtail by the guy steering in the back.

I had never seen a tiller truck make a turn like that before and it was really cool. I didn't get a real good look at the truck because, you know, I was trying to avoid getting hit by it, but it was probably FDNY Ladder #6 from the Chinatown Dragonfighters.

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Miss California basically lost the Miss USA title by stating her opposition to same-sex marriages. That isn't the interesting part, the interesting part is how she stated the issue:

"We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage," Prejean said.

Up until recently, she wouldn't have felt necessary to coin a retronym because the word marriage was assumed to only apply to a union between a man and a woman. If you watch the video, you can almost see her thinking, "what's the term for a marriage between a man and a woman?"

When even the people who are against same-sex marriages feel that there has to be an analogous term for marriages between a man and a woman instead of, you know, just "marriage," the real battle is over and we're just watching the endgame here.

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When I moved to Park Slope, I was constantly amused by a takeout place called Good Friend that specialized in Chinese and Mexican food. "Chinese and Mexican!" I thought, "What better name than Good Friend for a place that specializes in both...It must be one of a kind!" Well, it's not as I've learned. So here begins my attempt to catalog the Chinese-Mexican restaurants in the NYC area.

The photo above is Food House on Dekalb Avenue.

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We got up early. Went down to the hotel's "Diding Hall." Ate noodles with hot peppers and pork for breakfast, along with bitter local tea. Yum!

Went hiking. Saw waterfalls. Clear water. Butterflies. Monster cave. A retiree biker gang from Sichuan province. Mini horses. Oxen. Cool native headgear. (Earlier in the trip, when a local young woman smaller than Dr. No hefted two of our suitcases, we were told that "minority women are really strong.")

We decided to blow that town, Libo, and head to next destination, about 300 kilometers away. Went to bus station but last bus had left. So we hired a cab. Except one driver who tried and failed to get our business convinced another driver that it was really far and rough roads and not worth the 600 yuan (about $100) we were planning to drop. We called a second driver we used the day before, a nice fella named Luo.

Good choice! we said to each other, congratulating our ingenuity. We settled in for an amazing ride through hills and valleys with terraced farmland.

About 50 kilometers in, Luo's clutch broke. Luckily, we were a town at the time, and just then a female cabdriver Luo knew was passing by. ("Very pretty girl," our friend Li said, and we agreed. Possibly the world's prettiest cabdriver.) She and Luo agreed they would drive her cab the rest of the way. Li squeezed in with the Meiguoren in the back and we set off, a bit cramped but still feeling fortunate.

I noticed but didn't think much of the fact that Pretty Cabdriver made extensive use of the parking brake. Luo, when he took a turn to drive, pointed out that the brakes on Pretty Cabdriver's car were pretty much smoke. The roads, I'll point out now, are super steep and filled with quarry spillover, holes the size of Volkswagen Beetles, and the sharp rocks locals use instead of orange cones to demarcate stalled vehicles. Brakes we need.

So we stopped at the next town for more repairs. Ten minutes, the drivers told us. An hour and 20 minutes later, we were off again. We bought the drivers dinner -- more hot pepper pork noodles, with local sausage. I could eat for every meal.

At this point the roads get much, much worse. It's now night and total darkness. Typical exchange:

Drivers: [Incessant bickering]

We see the pavement drop off sharply ahead

Passenger: Watch out!

We cut our journey short by about 100 kilometers when it hit midnight. Paid full fare plus a little extra to Luo, who had apparently never driver Meiguoren and wanted a photo with us. Our hotel has a leaky toilet, a smell of mouldering wood, a fleet of honking trucks outside and an hourly rate (the "o'clock rate") for guests and their companions on the go. Having a large time.

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Citi field opened last night with an historic leadoff homerun in a game that the Mets would eventually lose. Yep, we're doomed. At least they still got cats there, though.

There's been a lot of speculation about how Meet the Mets was going to change in response to the opening of Citi. The answer is in: the song simply goes instrumental after "...head to the park and greet the Mets" and they read sponsorships over it. Boo!

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In all its original 136 measure unmodulating drone glory.

In abbreviated animated form.

In Werner Herzog's Nosferatu.

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TNR takes a look at Mikey's old band.

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We are going there. They have waterfalls.

They have headgear.

Most frighteningly, they have booze.

In addition to getting you drunk, this stuff looks like it will keep your engine lubricated for the next 5,000 miles.

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Saw the photo shoot for this thing in Dumbo on Sunday.

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The Onion has a column that suggests we all go see the new Nicholas Cage movie. Nicholas Cage, though, was sitting right behind me at the Wooster Group's La Didone last night. The scene on the Wooster Group site is one of my favorites from the show, but today's NYT review has more audio and photos if you're interested.

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Sean Avery, as Deadspin puts it, "still has the magic touch":

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Her name is Pupi. She fronts a Beijing band called The Bigger Bang. She doesn't speak English well, but she can screech it. The word tattooed on the front of her neck is "Endure." (Cue witty snark, but we liked 'em.)

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BumWine.com has a pretty funny page dedicated to Cisco, the liquid crack of bum wines. The descriptions of MD 20/20 and Boone's Farm remind me of a typical Friday night in high school. The important thing was to drink the Boone's first...that way the Mad Dog didn't taste quite as bad.

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Scene: A Chinese visa office.

Dr. No:

Worker looks at passport filled with happy tourist visas. "Well, hello you! Aren't you cute! Don't you want to come to China, oh yes you do, little tourist-wourist-wourist you! How about a double entry visa? That's right, you can come two times! Anytime within the next six months! And stay as long as a month! Because we like you! We really like you! A spot of tea?"

Mr. Guapo:

Worker looks at passport, spies a previous J-visa: "Let me get this straight. You want to go to... China? Like, my China? Hmm. Why don't you wait right here.

...

...

...

Oh, you're still here? Well, It's like this. There's gonna have to be some serious talk here. Oh, and 20 days you want? Good luck with that."

Should it work out, first Beijing, then possibly Chongqing (for hot pot) and Sichuan, or maybe Xinjiang instead. Uighurs!

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