We had an appointment near Washington Square Park at 4PM. Every single thing that I had done on Thursday had taken 20 minutes longer than it was supposed to and as Thursdays go our schedule was VERY tight. The longer I work on Geek Prop the more I find that good stories are Feast or Famine. We go for days with almost nothing happening and then KABLAMM – everything comes at once and often from totally opposite directions.
“RU There? We have 2 get going soon”
It was exactly this kind of explosion of activity that had Brother Jobu and I on opposite sides of the Island with little more than an hour and a half to hook up and head into Greenwich Village where we had been graciously invited to meet up with the creative team behind the New-Gen Universe in their natural habitat.
Jobu had spent the night before at the Beacon Theater hanging with the likes of 80s rock Gods Living Colour at a Jimi Hendrix tribute and I had ben interviewing Lucasfilm Ltd. Executive editor J.W. Rinzler. I had been texting Jobu all day but he hadn’t replied. We were supposed to be on the road by 2, but 2:30 came and went with not so much as a beep from his iPhone. I was beginning to fear BroJo may have run off and JOINED the Hendrix show so I sent him one last text.
“If we R going 2 blow off New-Gen I’d like 2 give more than 10 Min notice.”
12 seconds later my phone rang.
“When are you gonna get rid of that Crackberry and get a damn iPhone? I have been texting you for two hours. And stop calling me BroJo.”
“I got NO TEXTS. What’s the rule Jobu? If I don’t reply – You are supposed to Email me. You KNOW the Crackberry SUCKS for Texting.”
“You keep texting me every twelve seconds making it seem like you ARE REPLYING.”
“Well did my texts make sense as replies in the context of the Texts you were texting?”
“Mixx – Your replies NEVER make any Damn sense. Half the time you write “Kablamm” and expect me to know what the hell that means!”
“So then why do we continue to communicate this way?”
“It’s NOT CONVENIENT IF I’M NOT GETTING THE TEXTS!”
At 2:57PM I was riding shotgun in the Jobu-Mobile and we were on route. I emailed my contact at the New-Gen Studio to let them know that we “might” be late.
We crossed the 59th street bridge at 3:40PM and it looked like we might actually make it by 4. It looked like that for exactly one block after which it became clear that we would be lucky to travel the three and a half miles from Uptown Manhattan to their Studio by the weekend.
Miraculously, Jobu channeled his inner Han Solo and negotiated the Midtown traffic like the Millenium Falcon through an asteroid field. All around us, buses, cabs, pedestrians, and those bicycle rickshaw looking things were sent spinning away from the almost supernatural forcefield that the Jobu-Mobile creates wherever it goes.
At 4:50, the car was parked, we had done 12 minutes of NYC parking sign reading trigonometry to ensure that when we got back it would still be there and we were standing in the hall outside the New-Gen Studio.
Jobu took a picture of the door while I knocked. A second or two later the door opened and J.D. Matonti appeared. He took one look at the two of us and quickly shut the door again.
Jobu lowered the camera. “Maybe they didn’t get the email.”
NEXT: Talkin’ bout New Gen (eration)