Remember sunlight?

It comes from the windows brightly shining in the dark.

It's in a basket and in the form of two alkaline batteries powering a flashlight.

It's in the middle of a battlefield and it flickers eerily every other beat. The other beat is the rat-tat-tat of a gat.

According to a certain man's band it's in the smile of a pretty girl.

As of late I've thrown myself, like I've done some times before, head first into waters unknown. Head first, arms holding my sides and nose and my feet pointed - low profile. Or low key as some west coasters would be inclined to say. But it's different know because someone is swimming already.

I've been delving in this coward old world (if only to make a play on a well known piece of literature).

The nice man at the Chockful'o'nuts knows that when I walk in I'll have a large, skim, 2 splenda french vanilla latte...and a red bull. And today I discovered a secret recipe behind the energizer bunny's brilliant drumming: a drink, one part coffee and three parts coke zero. Saying it's a rush of caffeine to the head would barely do it justice. Saying it makes me the life of the party, the shadow-caster in the room (a positive no matter how negative it sounds) or the big kahuna - would be an understatement. I made two new friends this way - their eyes equally wired in a similar stasis of sugar and raw, FDA approved POWER.

But enough about the fast pace of the week and more of the gentle lapping of the east river.

Picture a suburban town with an urban feel and a hipster vibe. The major of the town wear skinny jeans, pointy shoes, wears a fedora and carries an old SRL leica. His clothes are vintage.

And then there's a stage awkwardly placed so that you face the conundrum: stage or view? Because behind you, quite quite quietly, like a cobra before striking, stands New York - boldly proud. Rand would have been proud. In front are 4 men sporting various degree of facial hair reminiscing about equine ways.

The choice is simple, go with the beard.