What do you do when it's supposed to rain on a Sunday? Go to a movie, of course. What do you do when it's supposed to rain but turns out to actually be sunny but therefore really, unbearably hot? Go to the movies, of course. I'll jump at any chance to treat my albino skin to a dark cave. And be lazy. So, yeah, hooray movie.
So last Sunday my beaux and I decided to pretend we were 16 and go see Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Think Go meets High Fidelity. I'm a sucker for teen movies (even more so if they involve teens dancing), as teen movies always portray the kind of teen experience I never had. I was never conflicted between hanging with the "odd" kids who I actually liked and the popular kids who would take me to college parties. I never got into a prestigious performing arts school and pushed the envelope with my street-honed dance skillz. And I never went on all-night escapades that involved going into the "big city," jumping from cool dingy bar to cool dingy bar and ending up in a hip diner at 5 a.m.
That's pretty much the premise of Nick & Nora. The movie does a wonderful job of capturing the essence of both what it feels like to be young and totally devoid of responsibility, and of New York City - the feeling, when the sun is rising, of taking the subway home when the suits are taking it to work; of feeling a late-night camaraderie with the thousands of other people stumbling down the streets at 4 in the morning; of being in a place - usually one with sticky floors and cheap beer -- with people who love music as much as you do. Which leads me to two points.
First, when I tell anyone I'm from Miami, they automatically assume that my high school days (or nights, rather) were spent clubbing on South Beach. I'm pretty sure there was a clique at school that actually did that (and I'm pretty sure they were all in my remedial algebra 2 class), but for the most part, we did what most suburban kids across America did - go over to other kids' houses when their parents were out of town and drink cheap, watered down beer that someone got the homeless guy to buy for us at the gas station. We also went to movies, loitered at the mall and ate chicken fingers at T.G.I. Friday's. I didn't even know how to get to the beach until my junior year, and even then, my mom sat us all down and made sure we knew to not distract the driver. I'm not sure what she was envisioning - us cranking up the Metallica, sticking our heads out the sunroof while we chugged Jim Beam? Not for a day trip, at least.
Second, last night I went to a free (that's right, FREE) Walkmen (that's a band) concert at Urban Outfitters. I had been there a couple weeks prior to buy a pair of $30 flip-flops and noticed the poster in the window. Giddy, I told everyone I knew (and who would care about a Walkmen show) about it and printed out my passes the next day. I cringed when I saw it in our own listings as well as a few other calendar sources, thinking for sure because it had now been advertised that it would be a mob scene. Hipsters all the way from Palm Beach county would be driving down, as how often do good bands perform in Miami, let alone for free? So after work, I do a drive by around 6 (show starts at 8 p.m.) to assess the situation. No line around the block, as I had suspected. No line at all, in fact. At 7, we make our way back. There's a guy giving away free ice cream out of a Yaris (the show's sponsor) and another Yaris with a portable photo booth inside (who knew fuel-efficient Toyotas could be so much fun?), so I enjoy my free creamsicle and then head inside - you know, want to get a good spot close to the front before the mobs showed up. Well, they never did. At first I thought maybe they were on Miami time, assuming the show would go on at least an hour after stated time (it started at 8 p.m. sharp). But no, the venue stayed half empty for the entire show.
Now, I've come to terms with the fact that I'll hardly ever get to see good bands in Miami. But, in my experience, that means that for bands that DO actually come down here, the venue is always packed. Because you never know when the next good show is going to come along. Last night's attendance was simply pathetic. Embarrassing. I'm hoping it was because it wasn't advertised enough, but still, in NYC, people will hear about a show from a bathroom attendant and show up wherever he tells you it is.
Nick and Nora would've totally been there.