I hate that I'm surprised...

CBGBs was served with evicition papers just a few weeks back. I went the other night to see my cousin's band, The Rousers. They've been playing there since 1978. Quite the crew showed up...The Rousers, of course and a fella named Philippe Marcade who was the lead singer for a band called The Senders (look 'em up, there's plenty), Brett Wilder from the Boilermakers, amongst others. Evidently to stave off the, and I hate to say this out loud as it pains me to do so, INEVITABLE eviction, good ole Hilly Crystal is paying some diehards (mostly 20-somethings) to sit in the bar all night, drink and watch TV. It's NYC law that you can't padlock a place that's occupied so long as someone sits inside, the BRC can't lock the place permanently. God bless Hilly and his own ingenuity. He was, and will always be, in many ways, the Mother of Invention.

I keep rolling it around in my head though...why won't somebody step in??! A record label, a policitician (beyond Bloomberg's failed and mostly half-hearted attempt)?...Why must we suffer the fate of our own complacency? And why is it that everyone dresses the same in a neighborhood that used to encourage and foster individulality. That's why I moved here, and it's why it felt like home. I had escaped the oppression of a stifling Southern mentality that required a specific address and dress code...Now I find myself surrounded and lacking an escape.

Jesus God! Won't somebody help??! Or are we really doomed to ruin ourselves?...