the tony danza show will be filming on 4th street from here on out

I'm just comin' here to come down
I could be here
I could move town
Put my suits right on the guest list
Saw my pa's boy
Became weightless

- Broken Social Scene


Its another lazy Sunday after an anti-climactic Sabado gigante. Well, that's not entirely true. Anyway, I'm sitting at the Bergdorf and I had to climb through a crater of spilt earth and rubble and Kosovo-like expanses of war-torn terrain to make it here. As I crested the construction zone, the sounding of exhaling air guns caught me flush in the realization that the pellets were whizzing by from down range.

Chadolescent the totally excellent tiny neighbor guy was chilling in the 'lot with his punker girlfriend shooting beer cans and I stopped for a moment to commune with all things herf-like and swell in the current scheme of 4th street. Juneau's bizarro world Tony Danza (Darin the most charming bartender since Tom Cruise in Cocktail) just moved in to the 'hood as well so things are especially precocious. I feel like we should be taking a page from Cosmo Kramer here and start incorporating talk show sets into our living spaces.

Across the room, in an alcove a couple of hippies are playing pool. Along the walls in the infamous Bergdorf there are old and fading black and white 8x10's of Juneau mining scenes from the twenty years or so on each side of the turn-of-the-century. Sourdoughs and mine shafts and pack mules willing themselves toward sweet commodities stuck in the rich cords of ore up yonder in the hills and valleys splayed across the acres of Alaska.

Goodkid and I spent much of the early afternoon in Herftown trying to holler at the ladies. They pretty much played it off but they all still looked lovely in the summer shade on the graduated sidewalks of South Frank. Beaster Sunday we call it on account of all the Betty Bops.

In other news, the Celtics are unstoppable and Leon Powe is a load with which no single man should be saddled. Lee Baby over and out.