I like traffic lights.. I like traffic lights...

Frank Zappa, one time resident of the RL Chelsea Hotel may have done that song as a foreshadowing of the Virtual Hotel Chelsea sim... It was asked if the street lights change at all... I can bear witness to the fact that no, no they don't. Out of curiosity, I stood out in the empty street for about half an hour tonight and not a single one of the lights changed. All of them are red as well. So, if you want to drive around, avoid any cops. You'll be running red lights all the time :)

Live shows at Hotel Chelsea .. Yes, they happen!

Every week, on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, enola does her best to book some of the best Live Performers in SL to grace the Hotel Chelsea stage. This Saturday was no different (and I always wonder why the 300+ Bohemians can never make it over).

Lyndon Heart (and his hat!! <3)

We had Lyndon Heart on our stage for the first time. Lyndon has been performing in Second Life for a while now, and has a pretty good show. Despite some technical issues, the show went on. And his hat rocks LOL

You can find out more about Lyndon on his website.

David Csiszer

David joined us again this week (this is what happens when weeks blend and booking blend every month LOL) but we always enjoy his shows :) I still don't think he can over play any song, and he's one of the masters with the looper when he gets going!

He's also a linguistics teacher! Now we know how to ask where the monkey is :) Always useful! Providing of course, we lose a monkey in Mexico o.0







It was a fairly tame night at the Chelsea :) Only interesting avatar of the night was me o.o LOL

And don't call me CUTE!! >.<

That's all for this edition of your Chelsea blog. Remember, it is for you, Bohemians. The blog, the shows, all of it :)

Oh! If you have any ideas for the blog, please feel free to send me e-mail. Also, I'd like to do a series of interviews with Chelsea artists, so be warned! Questions coming!!!

Taking on the new role as Blogger for the Virtual Hotel Chelsea!

Hello everyone, my name's Gwen Difference and please note that I'll be your new blogger for the Virtual Hotel Chelsea in Second Life. It's an awesome task and I'm thrilled to be doing it. I'm a huge fan of the RL and SL Hotel Chelsea and happy to be an artist/graphic designer/blogger in RL. If there are news and events you'd like to talk about happening in our area, please let me know. All of us in the rockin' bohemian community can depend on this blog as the key resource for the latest information and news. To help spread the word about your Chelsea related events please contact me so it can be posted here. I can be reached via email, gwendifference@gmail.com and always by IM or Notecard inworld too.

SLURLS To our Hotspots!

• Hotel Chelsea, Manhattan: Tribute to the RL Hotel
  
• Gallery 23: 6 Shows per Year of SL & RL art
• The Factory: Tribute to Andy Warhol
• Chelsea Sound Recording Studio: Open to New and Experienced Live SL Performers

Stan Bardenboar says "MAILBOXES AND DYLANS ROOM STAY" Residents Rejoice!

Recently while loitering in the lobby of the Virtual Hotel Chelsea, eating cheese curls, and flinging every sixth one towards my poet friends, we got to discussing the subject of the ratty old pigeon hole mailboxes behind the front desk. About every 12th. cheese curl, Mr. Bardenboar who was crunching numbers and mumbling about "deadbeats", would poke his head from behind the counter and yell "Skall, you're gonna have to clean those up!".

I decided this would be a good time to give old Stan some crap and see if I could thoroughly disrupt his bean counting trance.

I strolled up to the counter doing my best "John Wayne just rode a horse for 32 hours and my ass is sore" walk, firmly planted my elbows on the old wood counter, and started to poke.

I said "Stan, when you gonna get rid of those crappy old boxes behind the counter and get us some nice shiny secure ones, so that when my transvestite neighbor gets an envelope of anthrax delivered to him, it doesn't creep it's way around that decrepid hole and infect my latest MENSA certificate?"

Mr. Bardenboar looked at me with what I can only describe as contempt mixed with a kitten dipped in hot sauce. He slowly removed his glasses and let them dangle from thier chain (in an obvious attempt to hypnotise me), placed his pen in his 90 year old ledger book so as not to lose his place, licked his lips and and began to speak with the fervor of a Pentecostal in a television store.

"Son, do you have any idea how long these mailboxes have been here?"

"Do you have any idea who's mail these mailboxes have held?"

"Some of the worlds greatest poets, artists, writers, and musicians have gotten their paychecks, letters from sweethearts, girly magazines, and even Christmas cards here."

"Let me ask you something Mykal, if these mailboxes were good enough for... (he now recited the entire list of famous residents from the 1800's to today, that he recited to me at least a hundred times before, including one time when I complained about a backed up toilet)".. and finished with "then why aren't they good enough for you?"

At this point, I couldn't keep a straight face any longer, and began to crack a smile, I think he started to realize that once again, i was just trying to get the old guy riled up for our entertainment. I had to admit, that on my very first trip to the hotel, the first thing I wanted to see was the old mailboxes, that epitomized the interior of the Chelsea to me.

This seemed to dismiss myself in the old mans eyes as he turned back to his book, and started to raise his specs back to his face. Before he got them all the way up, I stopped him in his tracks and said: "Hey Stan, when you gonna gut room 211, you know the one where that Zimmerman guy stayed, it looks all crapped up since that weirdo painted it all green and blue, can't you tear it out and put some shiny paneling in there?"

At this point I think he caught on that I was trying to kidnap his proverbial goat, he placed his finger in the air as if to silence the words before they left my tongue.

"Skall, I know the room isn't like Mr. Dylan left it, it's had a few coats of paint, and a few other people over the years, but it'll be a cold day in Hell's Kitchen when I ever have that room gutted."

"See, those coats of paint, and those people, are what makes the Chelsea Hotel what it is, no, not all of our floor tile matches, and every room is different, each one holds a piece of the person that stays there, and pieces of all the poeple before them, to gut that room would be like turning your back on the history of this place, and a dishonor to all of those people."

"You want a cookie cutter hotel where all the rooms look the same, and all the people act "normal"? Go down to the Holiday Inn, and ask them in which room was Blonde On Blonde written."

"But you already know that don't you Skall?"

"That's why you're here."

"Now leave me alone and go play with your poet friends."

"And while you're at it, why don't you pay your rent you deadbeat?"

We smiled in synchronicity, as he replaced his glasses, and turned back to writing in his ledger, without missing a beat.

I love that old man.

(Room 211 is now open for viewing in the Virtual Chelsea Hotel, unfortunately the only photos I had to work from were the ones showing the wanton destruction of this great piece of American history. Please visit www.hotelchelseablog.com for the story of the destruction of Bob Dylan's room.)