Tino Romero is an open mic institution in NYC. We sat in a park and talked about his experiences growing up Panamanian and black, his adventures in squatting following a Craigslist housing scam, a racial roast battle controversy that spun out of control on social media, and his experiences growing up as a weed smoker in the 80s in NYC. Tino is a good dude and one of the first people who put me up. The mic he ran at Bar 82, will be spoken of at length many years from now during the documentary the make about us.
I went with Caleb to Rockaway Beach to spend the day in contemplation, which meant eating a tab, sitting on the beach, and becoming aware and completely fine with the inevitable heat death of the universe, or at least the sun. The same sun which burned me and Caleb despite our attempts at applying sunscreen on ourselves. We were too straight to even consider asking the other to put lotion on our backs. Now my back is peeling so much my DNA is probably going to be popping up in crime scenes all over the country.
Despite the potential melanoma, Caleb and I had a great discussion as we overlooked the Atlantic. We discussed our nation's obesity problem, talked about hunting and fishing, our dads, the metaphorical titty milk that we all crave, gender relations, feminism, relationships, the Darwin Awards, the Drug War, drugs, and alcohol, which is also a drug, but for some reason gets its own category. Perhaps because it's awesome?