Guy Brighton's Wishful Thinking

The Difference

Somehow reminded me of the relationship between me and the Lady

DJ Dasani

So even the waiters are looking now. The waiters who fifteen minutes earlier were singing happy birthday out of tune are now looking over at the Lady signing the words of a song she's trying to recollect. It's odd to see waiters in suits and ties. Cheap suits, big shoulders, twitching at the Lady's flat notes.

Even the big chubby guy in the corner with the dark bandana who's been speaking as if he's just left Don Hills at 3am to his banker friend has shut up.

"Do you know the one?" she asks. I don't but I say I do to stop the flat notes sailing from her lungs. "Ok... the next one:" she says looking down a list of 80s and 90s classics.

Only 86 more songs to go before I can suggest the Rolling Stones.

Around 9pm, we leave an empty Jack's Oyster bar to go to the Underbar at the W in Union Square. I've never been to the Underbar before and I wonder as I descend why I've never been before. When I ascend later, I realise why.

While I'm there I meet DJ Dasani - liquid joy for your ears. Or something like that. Not hard to miss. Among the shirts and slacks and the tight dresses and heals sits a kid in vans, jeans, white t and topped with a bright blond crop of curly but receding hair. He peers through a pair of those ovesize glasses that the cooll kids are wearing - but by the size of his eyes. It looks like he needs them for real.

DJ Dasani is our DJ for our wedding. He's very nice. Can't pronounce my name and thinks Iran is somewhere near Korea. We wave the Persian songs in front of him. Just put on this 12 in this order and the crowd will be happy. Then we go Western.

The Lady brings out the paper with 100 songs that a friend of hers gave her. My god, he used to be a wedding DJ too. Didn't everybody. DJ Dasani responds to each one with a thumbs up or a shake of the hand.

When the Lady gets to a song she doesn't know she asks him how it sounds. At this point he unzips his bag and pulls out a mini keyboard. Mini-mini keyboard. So small that we have to draw near to hear the sound as he plays the notes badly.

Do you know that one?

The Lady is confused.

Dasani launches into the chorus. Oh yeah. She says and then her eyes grow wide.

Oh no.

The Lady belts out the chorus alongside the beeps and tweaks.

Somewhere a tree falls but no-one hears it. Meanwhile, the vibrations of that fall are travelling up and down my spine as I try to contain myself.

I love her so. But maybe she needs a couple of dozen singing lessons. Maybe a dozen down.

DJ Dasani is off on that beep-beep-bop-bop-op bit that that comes after "Sometimes I..." in the Moby/Seal track.

She looks me in the eyes. She's enjoying this. Going through the music for her big day. I smile back with all the genuineness I can muster.

"Ok... the next one:" she says. Only 86 more songs to go before I get DJ Dasani to murder the Rolling Stones.

Where's Guy Been?

I got engaged.

Yep. So there's been nothing to write about for the 8.5 month period since I proposed and since this day.

I get married in 21 days.

I therefore have a lot to write about.

Thur 14th July : Must Have Been To London

So my throat hurts. Actually it feels like someones scratched it. I feel tired. How long does it take to recover from a trip to London?? And this one was a quiet one.

Left NYC about a week ago - it's amazing how you forget how long you've been here. The Continental gate at EWR soon brings you back with a bump. Lots of lazy English accents and mums that can;t wait to get back for a decent cup of tea.

I red-eyed and got in to London from Gatwick. For a moment, I got nostalgic memories of commuting - as my face stuck against the glass divider, crushed by the morning commuter crowd.

My latest visa - yeah. long story - got processed far too quickly for my liking: I didn't even have time to get all stirred up and nervous. I just got called in and stamped.

London is a bustle of joy. I sat with a friend off Carnaby Street and watches fellas with their girlfriends go from store to store. In NYC you think metrosexuality is dead - in London, it's alive and well with added spikey and mud flap hair.

Thursday was of course sad. Horrific. We've all been on those trains, through those tunnels at that time of the day before. It's important that we carry on - which is what we all did the next few days. I undrstand all the NYCers didn't take the subway that day - what a bunch of sissies.

I saw a few friends still but less beer because of what happened. People still seem to be spending their Saturdays doing the same mix of alcohol, food and recreationals. I missed the Lady whilst I was there. I particulary missed her cooking. BBQs aren't really BBQs when you just turn up and throw on the stiff you just bought at the shops. Where's the preperation, the theatre?

The Lady would have done it different. That's why I'm glad I'm home. Yum. Always goes down my throat to my tummy nicely.

Tue 28th June : Plans Made Up

So the Lady admitted she had her mind made up. She'd had enough. Well about a week ago and so had decided that it was all over. She didn't quite tell me this. She just didn't talk to me for a day or two. In fact three days. Until her parents hurried up to try to talk sense into us - the evening of her birthday. Somehow, we broke her down and she gave in and took me back. I promised never to throw a strop on a deserted street at night ever again. Nor smack her bottom....

She later admitted that she'd already planned getting over me: Match.com, maybe PersianMatch.com. It all sounded so easy. Chuck the boyf, get online, find a husband. Ah...

Rare Sighting Of 'The Lady'!

Art Walk Atlantic Ave Brooklyn
Originally uploaded by GuyBrighton.

Art Walk Atlantic Ave Brooklyn

Sunday 22nd May : Billy F Idol

The Lady had free tickets to see Billy Idol. Well, you have to don't you. Come on, we all strutted to Rebel Yell at the school disco Actually quite a good show, if a bit naff. He must be in his late 40s now but he obviously hasn't got a day job but does have a gym in his basement. Got there late, missed White Wedding but got Rebel Yell and LA Woman. He loved, the crowd loved it. It was one of the best gigs I've been to sober. We went down to hang out with Uncle Mike as he played tunes at Bungalow 8. Who happens to walk in? Billy F Idol and his old mate Bono. Lots of smoking pot ensues. Party.

Thur 5th May - Dutiful

Did you do your duty? Not much attention on it all over here. They had to detonate a device outside the embassy here just to remind us Brits to go and vote.

The Lady and I better after she went thru and read all my emails after watching some film where the guy was unfaithful to his wife. Somehow came across one to Davo about strippers when Irish J was in town. 'What do you mean 2 dances?'

Sun 27th March : Dropping The F Word

It started only recently. I mean, two years is almost coming up and it's only in the last couple of months she asked me to stop. Stop opening my mouth and using a perfectly brilliant little word.

At first I thought she wanted me to stop using the F word in the apartment. My reaction was to tell her that she was restricting my right to express myself effectively, but then I thought: well she does pay the mortgage and feed me lovely grub. I could keep quiet at home, no problem.

Then I found her asking me to stop using the word when I was walking down the street explaining what happened last night, or was it about something on TV. I don't remember. I bit my tongue.

Then she stopped me swearing in the pub....

I had to sit and think about that for a minute and then it dawned on me. "You want to stop me swearing because you think I'll use it around our children (if we ever have any)."

She smirked. My god, I was right! My foot took another slip on that oily slope away from youth towards something quite adult and very alien.

How could I stop this? I thought.
"Oh well, at least I can still use the C word," I grumbled.
"You were banned from using that 2 years ago," she told me.

Sun 20th March : Persian New Year

Happy New Year Persian People!

In Iran, people spend the next two weeks visiting each other to say hello, give the young some money and generally party. One bunch of Persians in Philadelphia decided that it would be more fun if they squeezed this into one day. So the Lady and I went to the first house at 9am where there were about 30 other people from 10 different families wished each other happy new year. Then we went to the next at 9.45 - where the same people came too. Then we went to the next house. 12 houses in 1 day with all the same people in them!

The good thing was, that if I made a fool of myself (spillage, annoying the Lady, singing, dancing) in one house I could start all over again in the next!