Here’s What Happens When I’m Not in New York City

Got five minutes, a pen, some paper and a few stamps? How about just sending an email? I need your help!

If you have ever been to Coney Island you probably know how incredibly magical this landmark is. After all, its the birthplace of American amusement entertainment.

HOWEVER, the struggle to preserve Coney Island has now taken an urgent turn and I need your help. New York City’s new plan almost completely abolishes the amusement district for the sake of high rise hotels and retail. Coney Island is currently zoned for 61 acres of amusements; the city’s new proposal reduces the amount of amusements to 9 acres.

This reduction of the Amusement Distirct will destroy Coney Island’s legacy as “the People’s Playground” and defeat the goal of creating a world class amusement and tourist destination. 25 to 30 story high rises and retail do not belong in the amusement district! Retail is no substitute for amusements!

There is plenty of space outside of the Amusement District, in Coney Island for residential, hotels and retail! Why destroy the amusement district forever to meet this goal?

SAY YES TO REVITALIZING THE AMUSEMENT DISTRICT AND NO TO to 26 New High Rises of up to 30 stories each in the current Amusement District!

NO

to Retail, Malls or “Entertainment Retail” in the Amusement District!

NO

to shrinkage of the Amusement District from 61 acres to 9 acres!

YES

to preserving Amusement Zoning in the Amusement District!!

YES

to keeping Coney Island the People’s Playground- providing accessible Amusements for ALL to enjoy!!

Write a Letter! Submit a written testimony by writing a letter, expressing your opinion to:
New York City Economic Development Corporation
110 William Street
New York, New York 10038
Attention: Rachel Belsky, Vice-President

OR, Send an email to:
rbelsky@nycedc.com

WRITTEN TESTIMONIES MUST BE SUBMITTED BY JULY 11th, 2008
Please send a copy of your written testimony to
Mayor Bloomberg, City Council President Christine Quinn, and your City Council Member.

Mayor Michael R.Bloomberg
City Hall
New York, NY 10007
Phone 311 (or 212-NEW-YORK outside NYC)
Fax (212) 788-2460

Cristine Quinn
224 West 30th St, Suite 1206
New York, NY 10001
Phone: (212) 564-7757
Fax: (212)564-7347

PLEASE HELP SAVE CONEY ISLAND!

Here is a link to the music video I produced and shot in Coney Island.

http://kristineforpresident.wordpress.com/music-video-for-get-it-right-inspired-by-the-beatles/

Worried about the environment? Sick of me talking about polystyrene?

Take Action!

Challenge yourself in July to change your consumption habits.

Don’t use a single-use or take away plastic bag for one month.

Instead you can:
-own and carry a re-usable sack
-re-use your old plastic bags
-use bio-degradable corn based bags
-compost
-wrap and tie refuse in old newspaper

I have been using a fabulous black KILL SHOP KILL canvas tote bag and it’s perfect for my library books, small groceries and more. There is so much we can do, but trying to not use a single plastic bag in July is my simple challenge to all of you. Once you stop relying on plastic it is easy to see how much of it is wasted. It can even be frustrating! I would love to see some of your comments as the month goes by regarding this effort and I hope you’ll give it a try.

Composting alone reduces so much waste at the curb AND in our landfills, and the benefits also include rich, nutrient soil for your garden. Local coffee shops can help get you started and provide grinds, and all sorts of your own kitchen waste - pretty much everything BUT meat and dairy products - can go right in the compost. Even paper towels, tea bags (staples removed) and egg shells. This can even be done in your apartment. That’s right, New Yorkers! Reducing waste, without odor, is as easy as using two utility buckets stacked atop one another. The first is for your green or wet (raw kitchen waste, coffee grinds) and brown (newspaper, paper towels, dry twigs and leaves) scraps to compost, the second for your topsoil to cover it when you throw a good amount in there. I like to leave a screw-top plastic jar or Tupperware container on the counter and collect scraps to compost until I have enough and then “bury” it. In the spring you can donate your compost to plants, trees and gardens on your block, in your neighborhood and on fire escapes and rooftops. Here is a great example of a “small apartment compost” with plenty of Q&As in the comments beneath the photo.

If people in big cities can compost, those of you lucky enough to have a yard should DEFINITELY be composting. It’s easier than you think, and all you need is a small patch of land in a corner, beneath a porch, anywhere! Whether a country mouse or a city mouse, I have found an incredibly comprehensive list of 163 things you can compost. I am so excited! This July 4th let’s celebrate our independence from the people who are too lazy and too stupid to do their part and make a difference. It feels good to be more conscience about my consumption AND my waste and I hope you’ll try it and feel this nerdy high with me.

Although the honeymoon is feeling like it’s coming to an end, I am producing a circus show and contributing to Louisville’s…Louisville-ness. Here it is, best explained in this real ad for the city:

And, for humor’s sake, here are a few parodies I have found as well which are really hilarious and mostly true. Also, please stay posted my one-of-a-kind coverage of the upcoming Lebowskifest! If you haven’t yet subscribed to my blog, please do so!

Courtesy of testosterone, roman candles, ambition and many cans of beer.

Because he gave my friend’s band one.

Here the Photographic perform live on FOX IN THE MORNING here in Louisville, Kentucky. I kept telling the guys that someday when they play on Letterman or any other late night show, the experience will be different than this in a lot of ways. For now, though, it’s the beginning of a really exciting journey for the band and I am happy to share this video clip with all of you.

The initial plan was simple: since I am close enough, find a way to get to Bonnaroo, the four-day annual art and music festival in Manchester, Tennessee. While there perform, see some incredible artists, and spend some quality time with one of my oldest friends who now lives in Chattanooga while camping (my first time) in “guest camping”, the bourgeois and better-than-VIP lodging on-site. I packed my costumes, insect repellent, SPF 30 and, as usual, far too many clothes than needed and made my way to Tennessee.

Chatanooga has the footwork for popular dances installed throughout the city. When is the last time you did the Hokey Pokey?

The trip was easy, even though the car I was riding in needed to stop at Wal Mart to get something. I have, to this day, proudly never spent a dime at a Wal Mart, however upon investigating the corporation in Connecticut a few summers ago was surprised when an employee in the photo department of Wal Mart told me I could buy marijuana from him anytime I wanted to. (”You really CAN get everything at Wal Mart!”) While waiting in the parking lot I thought the peat moss/compost toilet in the bed of a friend’s truck might make a good statement about my thoughts on Wal Mart.

When I finally arrived in Manchester, I was brimming with excitement. I had vowed to myself early in 2008 to travel more, and after the fire I still managed to make it to Louisville, even though the first week here was emotionally and psychologically draining and it seems that since I am still here, to many, it’s highly unusual for a “city girl” like me to want to stay out of the Big Apple for such an extended period of time.

I had never been to Bonnaroo before (although I was very excited to discover all of the “green” aspects and causes supported by the festival which you can learn more about by clicking here), so I really was taking in the experience with a fresh perspective and was certain that, by the end of the trip, I would have more than a few stories to share. After setting up camp I set out to my first gig and to find Aaron Goldsmith, one of my roommates from New York whom I had not seen since two days after the fire. We had spoken a couple of times in the weeks following the disaster, both still reeling and filled with conflicted feelings about many, many issues, so facing the opportunity to see him outside of New York and nearly two months after the fire, I couldn’t get to him fast enough. Below is Aaron dressed as a soothsayer, telling fortunes using a “Magic 8 Ball”, complete with a smoke machine.

He had gotten a ride with a group of circus people from Vermont’s Unbearable Light Cabaret, all of whom were very talented and friendly.

Back at the camp, we had met our neighbors and a community was beginning to establish. The neighbors to our left were from Queens, so right away I knew we would get along. The other two men were from Nashville. This group social psychology, in addition to sharing and demonstrating kindness, was probably the most incredible part of the experience for me. Our neighbors across the way included Heather Byrd, writer for The Tennessean, with the most adorable camp site I have ever seen complete with chinese lanterns, carpet, A/C and a pink feather boa.

Of course, I knew before heading to Bonnaroo that there would be a lot, and I mean a LOT of people there who were on drugs. My tolerance for people on drugs had diminished to almost nothing before leaving New York and is currently at an all-time low. Luckily the space is so big and there is so much to do that one can easily avoid people on, well, whatever they’re taking. That is, unless you’re trying to walk anywhere.

When I found out I was going to Bonnaroo, I took a look at the festival’s website and found a ton of warnings and information about the danger of recreational nitrous oxide use. From Bonnaroo.com:

“The use of illegal drugs is strictly prohibited at Bonnaroo. All laws pertaining to drug use should be respected. We encourage you to participate in the festival in a lawful and healthy manner. Various clean and sober groups will be onsite should you or any of your friends need their assistance.

The sale of nitrous oxide is strictly prohibited. Consider these facts: Nitrous Oxide cuts off the flow of oxygen to the brain; numerous emergencies have occurred due to its ingestion, ranging from concussions (falling down after passing out) to, in extreme cases, death; and some confiscated “nitrous” tanks actually contain other toxic gases such as argon or automotive nitrous (which contains petroleum). If you purchase nitrous oxide you are likely to be supporting people who care nothing about, and contribute nothing to, the Bonnaroo community.”

When a guy with a tank came by our camp site, I excused myself. I did not want to impose my beliefs about the use of Nitrous Oxide to those around me. However when the guy selling it sat down and explained that the tank he had came from Boston, and that he was studying medicine in Michigan, I had to ask him if he thought it was contradictory that he was selling my friends $5 balloons to cut off the oxygen supply to their brain. He just looked at me. I got up and walked away. Later that day I saw the same guy selling balloons near the entrance to Guest Camping. When a golf cart with two Bonnaroo staffers approached someone holding a balloon, I thought for sure that the death-peddler, just a few paces away, would get ratted (and kicked) out. I fumbled with my camera trying to discreetly record his capture and ejection, however the Bonnaroo staffers did nothing and carried on, driving off as he inflated balloons for a new batch of campers. Here they are walking away from me. There is something very sad to me about this picture.

Some of the shows I caught included MGMT, MIA, Metallica (I wanted to feel the energy of 80,000 people at a concert and although I am not a fan of the group, the experience was amazing), Les Claypool jamming with Gogol Bordello, The Raconteurs and of course, the main reason I was so excited about Bonnaroo, Willie Nelson. Willie turned 75 in April of this year and is a living legend.

I will be posting more photos as I receive them. This was my first time camping!

Energy this, sustainability that. Reduce, reuse, recycle. Green. Activism. Global warming. The Omnivore’s Dilemma. These discussions and more abound throughout homes and communities the world over, but what are we REALLY doing to make a difference?

And what about the growing popularity of residential solar energy utilization?

When I met Chuck Cooper at Bonnaroo, founder of Solus International, he was so kind to explain how, for anyone and everyone living in America today, the benefits of solar energy are innumerable and immeasurable. Oh, how I long for the materialization of my personal dream of sustainable living! For now, the best I can do is share what I learn with you, my friends and associates, and hope that you’ll investigate smarter ways of existing. Some day I will have the funds and support to make my own organic, green and earth-friendly dreams come true. At least I am not alone in the meantime! Definitely watch this clip. What he is showing us are the possibilities within our reach as a society and how to use them to help others. Although the PV he is in is portable, this application can be used to provide electricity for homes as well.

And the mission of Solusinternational.org:

“Solus International, Inc. recognizes the enormous synergies and benefits that occur when business principles are unified with social ventures.

We look to a time when every household in the world, rural and urban, on the grid and off the grid, will have access to a clean and reliable source of electricity as well as a time when energy (or the lack thereof) will not be a contributing factor to the loss of lives during natural disasters.

To achieve this, Solus International, Inc. plans on becoming an international paradigm for the relief of global suffering brought about by energy deficits in isolated communities, through the use of mobile, solar-powered technology and a community-based, sustainable approach. As well as becoming the global supplier of mobile solar-power for use during disaster relief.”

For more information about solar, water or wind energy please visit www.bigfrogmountain.com.

the Photographic, a Louisville-based trio consisting of brothers Jamey and Jesse See Tai and drummer Chad Blevins, performed at the hotel/gallery 21C on Friday night. Dynamic, escalating loops, beats and melodies accompany synchronized video projections, and it’s pretty cool. I love what they’re doing, and Jamey was the first person I knew here in Louisville. We met at Lit nearly two years ago and I was so excited to know someone in Kentucky, telling him all about Derby falling on my birthday in 2008 and how I wanted to attend. Who would have known I would make it and still be here?

With the brutal heat that accompanies an early summer in Louisville, a region of the country otherwise without a label, I feel like I am in a jungle. It feels like the South, but it isn’t. It looks like the North, but it isn’t. Mid-South seems to fit it best. For those of you who require a definitive answer as to where I am, according to Wikipedia “Although many definitions are still based on Civil War era politics…the term Upper South is often used for all of the American South north of the Deep South.” Interestingly enough, during the nineteenth century, the Ohio River marked the southern boundary of the Northwest Territory, serving as the border between free and slave territory. Perhaps this is why certain, older residents I have met have agreed with me that Louisville is indeed the South and have directed me to the Mason-Dixon line “downtown.” These locals, of course, are referring me to the Ohio River.

Needless to say, when the mercury rises to near triple-digits, my natural reaction is to cool off near the closest body of water available. In the past it had been Coney Island in Brooklyn. Or the Hudson River on Manhattan’s west side. At this time in my life, that body of water is the Ohio River. The largest tributary of the Mississippi River, the Ohio is over 980 miles long and originates in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. Locals say it’s polluted and I’m sure it is as most of our fresh water sources are in America today. But it is beautiful and of course is less polluted once you leave the Louisville city limits as I did Sunday aboard a friend’s yacht. About five feet above its normal depth, the river swelled due to severe thunderstorms in the Mid-West and hosted flooding, large driftwood, sediment and debris. As we pulled away from the dock, turtles sunned themselves on trees that grew sideways, far out into the creek which feeds the river, where there is usually a shore. A cow pasture and submerged fence accurately demonstrated the abnormality of the river this day as tips of metal posts and wire peeked out from the bright green grass in which they were secured.

As soon as we arrived at our destination, a cove which used to be public before a tyrant decided he “owned” this part of the river and decided to bring the matter to court, I felt so relieved to be on the water and dangled my feet over (and eventually into) the muddy Ohio. Assured by my party that had it not been for those Northern storms I would be able to see not only my feet in the water but also the boat’s propeller, I gazed out onto the waves and saw a most peculiar creature twisting and flailing about ten feet away from mine. Kevin, an intrepid guest of one adjacent vessel, did not hesitate before jumping into the river, plastic cup in hand, to retrieve the peculiar specimen.

Here is the video of what I found on the river. My guess? A leech. Since there are hundreds of species of non-blood sucking leeches I have not been able to identify it using the Internet, but that was my first instinct based on its segments and anatomy. The commentary of those around me as we investigate this creature is pretty hilarious, ranging from “it’s a river worm” to “it’s disgusting”. And the scenery at the end as I pan my surroundings shows just where I spent a sunny afternoon in Kentucky not only basking in the sun, but also kayaking around picking up litter and beer cans from ignorant passengers on other boats tied to the group.

The temperature and humidity on the evening of June 4th were most similar, as a friend said, to “being inside someone’s mouth”. After taking the long and arduous walk to pick up my tickets for the concert at will call and finally getting in and getting my sweaty palms on a refreshing beverage, I quickly realized that A) I was probably going to be drinking a lot of water because it was so hot and B) my presence at this outdoor venue, Caesar’s Indiana, meant unavoidable exposure to one notoriously horrific reality, an invention I regularly refer to as “the great equalizer”: the portable toilet. As I took my first sip, I glanced at the lines of plastic huts and silently surrendered to eventually hovering over what would most definitely be an unpleasant visit to steamy, rancid human excrement (and cheap, flimsy toilet tissue) steeping in a hole beneath my naked nether-regions. I fought nature for as long as possible before succumbing, feeling defeated and glancing one last time at grassy areas not monitored by security. I approached the toilets and quickly realized that half of them bore signs reading “WOMEN ONLY”. A sigh of relief! I would still have to hover, but I wouldn’t be sliding around, exposed in open-toed shoes, to the puddles of urine men spray all over most, if not all, concert and bar toilets. Indiana’s civilized, feminist-friendly facilities excited me even more when I stepped inside and closed the door. Not only was there a hook for my bag and a mirror to check myself out, but the interior was squeaky clean and adorned with bright flowers!

Before the show began I really wanted to interview some attendees as I was in such a strange, centrally-located American…casino. Ceasar’s Indiana is located on a showboat on the Ohio River since gambling is illegal in the state. I realize that many gambling cruise ships travel far into the sea where gambling is permitted, but somehow the river does not count as Indiana. Go figure. The concert, however, was across the street in an open-air venue beside the hotel’s parking garage and since casinos always depress more than intrigue me, I steered clear. Talking to people is one of my favorite things to do. Sure, celebrities and the like are more sought-after and give me some level of “street cred”, but at the end of the day it’s the “ordinary” people who make up the majority of America that truly interest me. Concerts are great for finding people in a happy mood no matter where the show is, and I was thrilled to speak with fans, especially Bill and Jeff, whose makeshift interviews are below and who were just so genuinely happy to be seeing Cake.

First, meet Jeff:

Next, please allow me to introduce Bill O’Connor. Bill, his wife and two of their friends were seated behind me and once they found out I was not watching the show with anyone, they quickly adopted me, bought me a beer and we ended up having a delightful time together. The four were kind, generous and very positive people. In fact, one woman offered me invaluable advice for when I have a baby one day. (You just have to love the Midwest). Plus, Bill and family are enormous fans of Cake, boasting that there is a framed picture of singer John McCrea in their kitchen and that their two teenage sons are also big fans and were terribly disappointed that the casino venue meant the enforcement of a strict “21 and over” policy. I don’t know how I would feel if I knew that people were making pancakes and looking at my picture, especially if they didn’t know me. The closest I can relate to this experience is when I was “Mistress Kitty” on NIGHTS WITH ALICE COOPER and would get mail from certain fans of mine from around the country explaining some pretty graphic and personal stories about what they did each night after hearing my voice. (Again, a lot of these people were in prison or driving 18-wheelers). It’s sort of nice to know that your work touches (no pun intended) the life of someone who admires it, and inspiring others to dream bigger, be more kind and help to make our world a better place is quite encouraging.

Thanks to my father and Louis Armstrong, I just can’t get enough of trumpets. And although the camera jitters and dips are the result of my being eaten alive by mosquitos, this is a nice moment during a really wonderful song.