Lüc Carl's Blog, page 4

FUCK THE GIANTS

And fuck New Yorkers in general.

Hours after the New York City Marathon was to take place, no one seems to have a problem with an NFL football game.

The marathon, which brings in an estimated $340,000,000, was cancelled. Yet the Giants are marching proudly down the field with no backlast whatsoever.

This morning a fireman (obviously on the anti-marathon bandwagon) yelled at me while I was running.

“You should be helping people clean up their homes.”

That fireman is most likely watching the Giants game as we speak. I’d also like to point out that that fireman gets PAID to “help” people. Although I don’t know what help it is yelling at an innocent runner from your firetruck with a tank full of gas while hundreds of people are lined up begging for 2 gallons.

I hope the Giants get their asses whooped and the choke on their own electricity bill.

WE RAISED $6400 FOR RED HOOK

A fireman yelled “You should be helping people clean their homes” as we ran by.

We raised $6400 and had a truck full of food and clothing donations. He was driving around in a heated truck with a tank full of gas.

Give the runners a break!

I’d like to thank the South Brooklyn Running Club for making this one of the most amazing days of my life.

RUN FOR THE CAUSE – RED HOOK BROOKLYN

Come run with Team Drunk Diet tomorrow morning!

10K

Sunday November 4th

Show up at 9:00 AM. Race starts when we’re ready

61 Local (Bergen & Smith)

$10 Minimum Donation goes to the Red Hook Initiative

Free Beer Post Race

Brought to you by our friends in the South Brooklyn Running Club

CLICK HERE for more details

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THE NYC MARATHON: THE SHOW MUST GO ON

As if it weren’t enough that my neighborhood is in shambles and my garage is underwater, the city in which I live and train has shunned an amazing accomplishment which requires superhuman strength and an implausible amount of dedication.

Thank god I was paying attention and got myself signed up for the Brooklyn Marathon in two weeks before their website crashed due to 40,000 runners looking for an outlet to an unnecessarily stressful situation.

While I’m tempted to write an entire thesis as to why this is bull-shit, I must get to sleep for a 6:00am 18 mile run, for the show must go on regardless as to whether there is an actual finish line or not.

In closing I’d like to applaud the New York Road Runners and the city of New York for not only attempting to go on with the show, but knowing when to cancel it. I’d also like to say that I’m not proud of my fellow New Yorkers. You should be ashamed of yourselves. And for the record, as a tax paying citizen I don’t need anyones permission to run any distance at anytime, anywhere. If you think you can stop me, you’ll have to catch me first.

 

VOLUNTEER TO HELP WITH THE NYC MARATHON

The marathon is happing. They need your help!

CLICK HERE to Volunteer 

WHAT NYC REALLY DOES DURING A HURRICANE…..

We get drunk!

I joined a couple biker buddies at a local bar, which was packed, and drank cheap beer and whiskey and talked about tragedies of NYC past. The beers kept flowing and the shots kept pouring. Next thing I knew the entire bar was out front smoking a joint in the rain.

With nowhere to go and no way to get there, boredom was the biggest problem for Brooklyn.

Chances are I won’t even remember Sandy’s name this time next year. Like a one night stand that was a loud, messy, expensive pain in the ass…. Farewell.

 

THE CAMERA AND THE GUITAR

In the days of Kodachrome weeks and weeks of paychecks would have gone into your camera, lights, bags, lenses, and not to mention your dark room. Then came the invention of the 24 hour photo department at every drug store. Polaroid, Digital cameras, and finally camera phones. Now everyone is a photographer.

Photographer: One who takes photos.

My mom has a camera on her phone and takes pictures of the cat. Therefore she is a photographer.  Our mothers have saturated the market making an already difficult profession a nearly impossible financial venture.

The same goes for the electric guitar. A Gibson Les Paul Standard retails for $2499.95. Only a very serious musician can afford such an instrument. Then came Epiphone, which is much like the Geo to the Cadillac. Owned by the same company, have a similar look, made of far less quality components with an attainable price tag.

As instrument stores are closing around the world, does invention take away jobs?

Can lesser quality guitars be to blame for the decline of the rock n roll musician? I don’t know. But owning the cheap guitar does not make you a guitarist. I’m pretty sure Jimi Hendrix could make a 200 hundred dollar guitar sound like a million bucks.

 

Epiphone Les Paul Standard Gold Top $499.99

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gibson Les Paul Standard Gold Top $1899.99

THE END OF AN ERA

I just want to briefly announce that St. Jerome, the bar that I created and managed for 5+ years has been sold by the owner. The new owners will take over on November 1st and expand. No word yet as to whether they will change the name or not.

I’d sincerely like to thank anyone that had a good time there, all the employees, even the ones I fired (you deserved it), and most importantly, Ian Eldorado for truly believing in the place, getting the name tattooed on your arm, and hanging on until the end.

Although I’ve been out of the business for quite some time, I will no longer be involved in the bar in any capacity. Good luck to everyone involved. We had an amazing run. I wrote a book in that shit hole. I’ll never forget those crazy nights that I can hardly remember.

LÜC LIVE!

Come hang with me Thursday night while I play real deal rock n roll at Hotel Chantelle from Midnight to 1:00am Sharp!

$3 Beers ONLY WHILE I’M DJing

LOOKING BACK ON IT

Living in such a big city it’s not often I get to witness my progress in the form of beating another actual person. Success is usual determined by a number on a website in the form of xx:xx:xx and the only way you know if you’re any good or not is to monitor your numbers from race to race.

Signing up for a small race is a good way to look yourself dead in the eye in the form of another person. A race of say, 20 or 30 people or so. (As opposed to a race of 7,000 when there are people crossing the finish line at any given one second interval). In a race with so few people you have the pleasure of turning around and witnessing your hard work in the form of seconds, inches, feet, or minutes.

Crossing the finish line and turning around to witness the next guy finish the same race really puts a shit load of perspective on all that hard work you’ve put in on a daily basis. While completely exhausted, you get to witness up close and personal what would have been you had you not put in that extra day at the track or gone to bed that hour earlier.

When it’s all said and done, you are the only person in the universe that cares about the distance in which you beat the guy behind you, because you are not racing against him, you’re racing against yourself.

Yet another reason why running is the most amazing thing in the world.