the wild nights are calling.

last night was a reunion of sorts, when ethan and i met up to see ofer perform classic rock hits at the back fence in the west village. the bar, incidentally, was elie's old stomping ground in college, and was described as the kind of place i would fall in love with: sawdust, peanuts, cheap drinks? what more could a girl want? anyways, ofer puts on a kind of performance that makes women want to throw their panties at his feet, evidenced by the swooning australians seated to my left who actually booed the next guy, "we don't want another guy; we want him [ofer]!" it's been a long while since i've heard ofer sing (three years to the week, i think... the last time was right before that weekend at rebecca's in 2003), and i have to say that he has really grown as a performer. i was really impressed! and i'm not just saying that because ofer confessed to me last night that he has read my blog from cover to cover. his voice seems richer, he has great stage presence and connection, and i'm totally floored by the fact that he can play the guitar and the harmonica and sing all at the same time. the next performance is june 19th, so i highly recommend that y'all who are planning a visit schedule your trip around then. bravo ofer!

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after the performance, ethan and i walked up to 14th street and along the way stopped at a late-night falafel joint. while ethan chatted it up with the guy behind the counter, i found myself talking to a man (allegedly a former olympian) who swims a mile up and down the hudson river a couple of times a week. i can't decide whether his story is believable or not, especially the "i was an olympic champion swimmer" part. but he was certainly one of those eccentric characters that wander the west village.