THE GREAT GADFLY:

Looking 33 / Feeling Top Ten

1. Getting a birthday present that consisted of gay porn wrapped in a dogs-playing-poker tapestry, and to top off the presentation, it was presented in a Barney's shopping bag. KLASSY.

2. Visiting the McSweeney's store on 7th Ave. in Brooklyn and marveling at the dioramas, dental casts of bobcats and warthogs, impractically priced miniature donkey maintenance guides and the glass case full of little metal bird legs. Oh, and they had some books and t-shirts too. This is retail Dave Eggers style, ladies and gentlemen. Pretentious and idiosynchratic, sure - but one would have to be a committed party poop to not enjoy oneself in this smartypants wonderland.

3. Digging on the East Village HOWL Festival over the weekend, which I had no idea would be taking place during my visit. Although we missed the performance by MiniKISS (the all-midget KISS tribute band), simply digging the vibe of Wigstock in Thompkins Square Park on a perfect sunny August Saturday was more than delicious. The HOWL Festival is intended to keep the cultural spirit of the East Village alive and well by way of showcasing the merchants and artists of the community - as commendable as I think that is, I couldn't help but feel that the wild and woolly glory days of the E.Vill are more "then" than "now", and the HOWL festival felt like more of an old skool NYC hipster renaissance faire than a way to keep the Avenue A coolness quotient on life support. I mean, Wigstock was scheduled as part of the HOWL festival, and was scheduled for a scant 4:30 p.m. - 6:30 p.m. slot. I've seen historical reenactments of Salem witch trials that took longer to perform. Still, it was a great effort that did indeed manage to capture the ideal spirit of the area, a glorious time was had by all, and the weather could not have been more perfect if I were able to slip Mother Nature a fiver on the sly.

4. Price to see a post-HOWL Festival concert at Webster Hall featuring Tom Tom Club, Ann Magnuson, and the afore-mentioned MiniKISS: $20 plus drinks. Price to rent the film "Sordid Lives" at Kim's Video: $3-ish. Value of sitting in air conditioning with one's best friend, nursing hangovers after a long day in the sun, cackling feverishly over an overwrought Delta Burke as she fixes a tuna casserole: Priceless.

5. Snagging DVDs of Matthew Barney's "The Order" (who needs GameCube when you have artfag Donkey Kong on DVD?), Warhol/Morrissey's "Women in Revolt" (found it cheep and used, which was all the more appropriate), and a collection of Sly and the Family Stone TV appearances (I one day hope to own as much macrame in my wardrobe as Sylvester Stewart).

6. Finally acquiring a new tin of St. Luke's Prickly Heat Powder at my favorite olfactory crack den (otherwise known as Sniff, the 7th Street stank boutique for people who like to smell good), where I also scored a big ol' hunk of verbena soap.

7. Meeting Her Royal Uffishness at The Phoenix, where I was generously plied with a wide variety of unidentified drinks of varying toxicities.

8. Birthday din-din on Curry Row, at the most over-the-top hyper-decorated restaurant we could find. The Rose of Bombay, I believe it was. I actually had to continuously push tendrils of tin foil out of my eyes, the massive waves of garland were so aggressively festive.

9. Discovering the most valuable new music find courtesy of a CD played during dinner in said Indian restaurant. After scouring all the hipster wrecka stow mainstays - Sounds, Mondo Kim's, Other Music, etc. - whoda thunk the music find I'd cherish the most would be "Back 2 Back: The Chutney Remixes"? Aside from some silly-but-fun reworkings of Shakira and Belinda Carlisle songs (w/ original vocals sped up to chipmunk speed a la classic Bollywood chanteuses), the last time music made me want to shake my butt so bad was when I was deee-litefully informed that the Groove Is In The Heart.

10. Wrapping my present life around myself like a blanket when I left the city, feeling that NYC no longer necessarily felt like "home" per se, but at the same time appreciating that it still felt like more than a vacation theme park. It's a bit like visiting grandparents, or a favorite aunt and uncle. I know where the refrigerator is, and I always feel welcome to help myself.