“I was almost excommunicated in the second grade”
I never read the Sunday Times anymore, really, but I bought a copy of it today because I’m moving (no big whoop, just within Brooklyn, and more on that later but the moving process is invited to eat a pair of my shorts the size of Kansas City that is made of bees…hate!), and I’m wrapping up some plates when I run across this piece about Peter Napolitano, the bartender at Melody Lanes in Brooklyn.
Yes, he really looks like that. If you have never had the pleasure of stepping into the Melody bar for a beverage and interacting with Pete, I can tell you that this article is the very tiniest tip of the iceberg of WTF that is that guy. He’s not crazy, I wouldn’t say, but one minute you’re talking baseball and the next thing you know he’s all, “Let me explain to you a few things,” and your brain is making actual Pop-Rocksy sounds trying to follow what he’s talking about. If you have hung out with Pete, you know what I’m saying.
And then he makes a delicious vodka tonic. It’s a lot of information. Anyway, if you haven’t bowled Melody and you live locally, check Pete out. Bring some Advil, though. It’s beyond.
Tags: city living hilare Peter Napolitano publishing shut up moving
Heminietzsche!
…
Dammit, now I want to go hang out in the bar at Melody Lanes.
And I:
a) am incapable of bowling due to physical disability
b) am teetotal
c) live in Australia
CURSE YOU, INTERESTING DUDES WHO ARE WAY TOO FAR AWAY
To my knowledge, Australian bowling alleys don’t sell alcohol.
‘There’s no business like “know†business.’
I’m so using that. With all due credit to the author, of course.
Fascinating! I’m tempted to rally a road trip to NY just to see the guy.
Australian bowling lanes don’t sell alcohol? How the hell does one even bowl sober?
might be worth a trip downstate…
and also – word on the moving – i moved last week… down a flight of stairs into a place with two flights of stairs… beautiful place… moved in with my man and his boxer, Clyde… but moving is the suck… good luck…
He calls it “the associative three-dimensional transposition of T.L.A.B. (Think Like a Brain) Creative Properties of the Self.â€
Wow, guy almost puts Dr. Brommer to shame…
http://tinyurl.com/djb4kc
oh Sami, yes they do!
“Later, I figured out why: I wanted to play the trumpet, not a stupid mouthpiece.”
Story of my life. If I wasn’t 3,000 miles away, I’d have to stroll in there, order a virgin beverage, and wait for the Pop-Rocks to start fizzing.
Ugh. Good luck with the move.
Amen to the horror that is moving! Just moved from my last apartment into a house and I am STILL recovering!! Arrgh and OUCH!! Best of luck, dear.
I love the crazy geniuses of the world! Unfortunately, here in the heartland there aren’t a lot of them. Crazy religious fanatics? TONS! Geniuses? Not so much.
“I disregarded all the aspirations my family had for me. But on the other hand — it took me a long time to realize this — no one should feel guilty for what anyone else believes they should do.”
Awesome. I keep reminding myself that, in the hopes that one day I’ll be convinced.
Just finished a big move from an apartment into our first house.
Never. Moving. Again.
We will die in this house.
“CURSE YOU, INTERESTING DUDES WHO ARE WAY TOO FAR AWAY” — Haha Sami :-D
This guy sounds AWESOME. I think I might have to go out to Brooklyn one of these nights!
“Hemingway and Nietzsche. They made great contributions to creativity, but one of them eats a bullet; the other dies in a nuthouse. The outer had too much pull.”
Also awesome. I feel like someone could get one hell of a book by bringing a tape recorder, a pile of drinking money, and a bottle of Advil to the bowling alley every night.