Yoga @ Don Pedro 8/23

AWESOMENESS is the word for Don Pedro. Well, it was OK. There were some technical problems early on, which was fine except for the fact that they all happened during Alabaster's set. His manager cursed out our very stressed-out host Gary, though I don't think he heard, or at least acted like he didn't care.
During all of this I was hanging out with the great Tim Warner over by one end of the stage. He and I were bonding over the fact that we've both quit cigarettes. I was kind of worried about him because the words "Joe Biden" kept leaping out of his mouth. I wasn't sure if it was on purpose or if like me he'd just been watching too much C-Span.
So yeah, I had lots of other things on my mind, such as the BBQ we were heading to afterwards, whether my harmonica rack would betray me again (it did, the bastard!), poverty, a looming McCain presidency and the collapse of social order. Luckily it was my spot soon. I played:

Panic Attack
What Life Feels Life
Urban Planning (god-damn harmonica rack fucked me!)
Humor

Anyway it was an all right gig, lots of people there for themselves, but got a few nods on my way out, even from Mr. Fury himself. Draw sucked but the place is way the fuck out in the middle of nowheres, across from a huge conglomeration of projects. I wonder if places like these have kind of overextended the hipster brand... a few places, like Goodbye Blue Monday, will probably survive. I have my doubts about DP's though.

The night ended @ the Brooklyn Boy's pad for a BBQ - with drunken Bohemian Rhapsody, a fifth of Tequilla, grilled chicken, hot dogs, and burgers, and a ride home. Can't ask for much more than that.