Remember David?

He played live tonight as part of some sort of music and arts festival. It was in a swanky bar on Water Street, so I made my way out to Brooklyn. Anytime I leave Manhattan, I revert to some kind of overly cautious tourist, frightened of getting lost in the gray mean city. Brooklyn’s not laid out on a grid! It’s terrifying! The streets have names like “Main” and “High.” No rhyme or reason to it at all, unlike Manhattan’s sensible number system.

Thankfully I made it. I was probably the first person to use a compass in New York since Henry Hudson.

David’s great live. He’s got a charisma that most seem to lack on stage, talking to the audience and even giving the rowdy bar crowd a polite “Shhhh!” in mid-song. Feet were stomping to the beat and his voice carried to the rafters. He’s got it.

I later wandered into a Jamba Juice. It’s a smoothie place and new favorite vice of mine. They took a page right out of Starbucks’s playbook and renamed the universal small, medium, and large with something more proprietary. I can’t remember what the first two are called, but a large is called “power.” Aside from being a completely badass name for a measurement, this allows me to order a “power Peach Pleasure, please.”