Since I'm still a little buzzed and I'm sitting here at my real job with the fresh glow/stink of
summer camp AWP still on me, here's a quick wrap of the Barrelhousey goodness that was AWP New York.
Set up day. We arrive around three or so, each of us schlepping bags full of books, toys, postcards that nobody will take, and one large spinning wheel.
We are, strangely, the only group super-glueing plastic cowboys and indians onto a Wheel of Destiny. Also the only group whose posters include airbrushed images of Patrick Swayze and Ed Asner. Nobody else even seems to have any plastic army men or candy cane necklaces. Also, nobody is drinking yet.
What's wrong with these people?
Table set up, drinking starts. Beers at the hotel bar prove to be unsustainably priced at somewhere between 9 and 12 dollars per beer, thus making the non-plan plan of "standing around the hotel bar talking about where we'll go until it's too late to go anywhere," which is also known as "what to do in Atlanta," feasible. We walk to the nearest Irish bar and stay there until three. Eat pizza. Pass out. Wait, did we even talk about who will staff the table in the morning? Oh well, fuck it.
Aaron Pease, he of the strong work ethic, and Matt Kirkpatrick of the newly spectacular hair take the early shift at the table. The public is amazed and captivated by the Wheel of Destiny and the chance to win prizes such as "your death foretold" and "free critique of your work (no work required)."
Barrelhouse reading at the KGB on Thursday night. Awesome. Thanks to everybody who came out. The highlights:
- Ada Limon knows how to rock both the page and a mic. The crowd is captivated by her verse, singing, and general mic-rocking skills.
- Dave Housley cannot do a Colonel Klink accent to save his life but that does not stop him from reading the same goddam story (Ryan Seacrest is Famous) every goddam chance he gets. The crowd is appreciative that he has, however, added significant amounts of masturbation and Us Weekly magazine.
- Barbara Duffey follows with further poet mic rocking and funny/poignant poems and general awesomeness.
- Lee Klein sends the crowd away happy and amazed with compelling tales of unicorn porn and even more super mic rocking. Even reading-weary KGB bartender recognizes special moment with free drink for Lee. Seriously, people, you have not lived until you've seen/heard this particular brand of unicorn porn microphone rocking.
Three dollar beers across the street are too captivating to pass up. We drink in the warm afterglow of sweet unicorn porn. Crazy-off ensues between two temporarily crazy drunk writer editor people, sending even non-smokers into the cold night in search of "air" and a temporary respite from crazy and cock talk.
And that's where I leave off. Too much great shit went down on Friday to get into right now. Jill Alexander Essbaum deserves her own post, and so does Jessica "Rape Joke Girl" Piazza, and their own post they shall receive.
Check back soon.