clap your hands

Three months ago I bought two tickets for a Clap Your Hands Say Yeah concert at the Bowery Ballroom. I didn’t know who I would be going with, but it felt strangely sad to just buy one ticket, and I was in a strange emotional place at the time.

The concert wasn’t until the end of the summer, so I assumed I’d be able to find someone to go with. Or I’d just scalp the ticket.


I first heard (really heard) Clap Your Hands Say Yeah about two years ago in a bar in the Lower East Side. COVERAGE had just screened as part of a September 11th Screening Series at the Archives, which might have gone well had it not taken place two days before September 11th.

Later I was sitting on a bench watching a friend of mine get drinks from the bar when The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth started playing in the background.


Two weeks after I bought the tickets, I met the person I’d be going to the concert with. We met at a cave-like, candle-lit beer bar in Greenwich Village and ended up wandering around Manhattan for most of the night.

We shared our first kiss on a bench next to an empty fountain in Madison Square Park. We made fun of a shirtless man. We ate Korean Food.

It was one of the best dates I have ever had.


On Tuesday, Fran and I are going to the Bowery Ballroom to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and it makes me think about how sometimes life is better than you imagined it would be, and gets closer to perfect than you thought it could.

Yes, that was somewhat corny.  It’s late.


“Just listen to me I won’t pretend to
Understand the movement of the wind
Or the waves out in the ocean or how
Like the hours I change softly slowly
Plainly blindly oh me oh my!”

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

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