Hip-Hop party in the Bronx.

A folding table in a concrete playground, a stack of speakers, 2 turntables, a crate of records, and about thirty people...

Serious straight-up old-school, right down to the little kid in a Spider-Man tee-shirt riding a big-wheel around in circles. DJs taking turns spinning, rotating MCs on the lone microphone. Drinking from bottles in paper bags.

And then the generator died, and everything went quiet for a second... Until they start it up again, and the familiar honk of "900 #" pumps thru the speakers.

-PAR

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Farewell, Matthew S. Farrell

Matthew Farrell. Self-created raconteur, impresario, dandy, sponsor of the arts, cheerleader of creativity, perpetual inspiration. Our dear ice cream server Grace once jokingly referred to him as “the winner, and only contestant, of Charlottesville’s Oscar Wilde Lookalike Contest”, and y’know, she was pretty spot-on. Matt (I was told at various times to call him Matt, Matthew, or “just Farrell”, so to this day, I call him all those things) had his own style that was clearly modeled on his platonic ideal of a perfect gentleman. And this gentleman dressed like a Fitzgerald character, talked like a continental aristocrat who summered in some undefined New England coastal village, and walked like Groucho Marx. He smoked unfiltereds, often two at once, just for kicks, which he would hold when gesticulating excitedly as he greeted dear friends or total strangers. Pretentious? Yeah, a bit. Sincere? Always. Distinctive? Absolutely. At some point, I think I recall him saying someth...

Dumpling Imposter.

As in all things, success will bring imitation. Nowhere is this more apparent than here in New York, where you can walk down the street and be assailed by endless tables filled with "designer" handbags and genuine "Hilfigger" sunglasses for sale. It's an inevitability that any product that does well will be aped by those who're looking for a quick buck. Ofttimes, the knock-offs can't be spotted without careful inspection. The average passerby wouldn't know the difference. So, do not be fooled. This is the real thing: This is not: Yes, it's true. There is a Dumplinganger. An upstart that not only moves into the same business that Lucas (the Dumpling Man) has so carefully cultivated, but rips off the distinctive logo. It's an incredibly brazen attempt to cash in on the goodwill and business that Dumpling Man has earned over the last six months. And whomever's behind it is so blatant as to position themselves only three blocks awa...

Merry Rump-Mas!

In the traditional fashion for this festive season, I hereby present your recommended dosage of holiday cheer: GIANT GLOWING INFLATABLE SANTA BOOTY! Have a wonderful holiday season, and don't say I never gave you nuthin'. -PAR

And... Go.

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