Bruner Blog

Regular Bruner Blog readers may remember that last year I decided to learn to ride the unicycle. I have barely been out on it this year, but I tried again today, for like the third time this year. Here’s an update:

• I was so pleased with myself last year that I got the basic hang of it right away, but progress is slow. I’m still quite herky-jerky. I’m looking forward to being able to have more control and a smoother ride.
• I can sometimes go for as long as 3-4 minutes, but much of the time it’s over after just a few rotations. It’s still a bit hit or miss.
• I can’t self-mount yet, which is frustrating. I have to hold a pole or something to get going.
• The secret seems to be getting settled into the right position in the saddle to start with. You want to be perched right on top of the shaft, like it’s an extension of your spine.
• I have a tendency to flail my right arm behind me like some kind of palsied yoga pose. I’m sure it looks rather ridiculous.
• I get nervous when people watching me and usually fall off quickly.
• I still wear a helmet. Better safe than sorry.
• I’m a sweater. After 10 minutes, I’m covered in sweat.
• I’m determined to stick with it till I get it right. I have some perverse pleasure in learning a new skill after 40.

Mehanata, far better known as the Bulgarian Bar, is finally reopened. It’s been a long saga for NYC’s coolest night spot for carousing fans of Eastern European pop culture. Since closing in the spring and then its aborted summer opening in its new Lower East Side home, followed by appeals to the community board, the place opened again in its new digs (113 Ludlow, between Delancey and Rivington) two weeks ago. Adi and I made it for the first time Saturday.

To say it’s better than ever would be an over-statement. But it certainly has potential. The new place is actually pretty funky. It’s altogether larger than the old dive on Canal and Broadway, and the new location still possesses some of the divy charm. It’s now a two-floor operation, with the upstairs quiet enough for conversation, while downstairs the dance floor is throbbing to the beats of Joro-Boro, the same DJ from the old location (after Eugene Hutz was replaced on Saturdays for famously trashing the place one shitfaced 3am).

Still, something was lacking. Owner Sasha was there, of course, manning the door, and a few of the bar tenders looked familiar, and more than one former regular embraced the loyalist members of our posse. But the unhinged mayhem of the old scene is perhaps still nursing a hangover in Queens somewhere, not yet having receive the word that the party has resumed.

Now, if they’d only bring back Nick Zedd and his weirdo movie projections, the mood might actually gel into a reason to crawl out again on Saturday nights.

One in a series of amazing marching band renditions of Radiohead songs.

Via Mark

I’ve been thinking about cufflinks lately. Some of my colleagues and others in my sphere wear them, but when I was in China, it was particularly striking how many men I saw wearing them, Caucasian and Chinese (business class folks, anyway). Perhaps it’s inexpensive custom-made shirts there, or perhaps it’s just an advanced sense of style; clearly the folks there are clothes-hounds, as I observed.

So I’ve been mulling whether I should “graduate” to cufflinks. I’m slowly investing more in my wardrobe, so cufflinks seem a natural step. But I can’t get past the sheer irrationality of them. All of the rest of the buttons on your shirt are still plastic, so why bejewel just the ones on your sleeves? For that matter, why not “blingks” for all the fasteners on your wardrobe? Heath took it to the perfect conclusion: cufflink fly jeans. I’m sure it’s in our future, sooner than we’d think. Ari recommended I become an eccentric dandy. Very tempting.

More photos from my trip to Asia. These are from Beijing and (mostly) Shanghai.