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Guernica 6 Benefit Bash

1. Alina Simone sings. With her band, Shawn Setaso (on guitar) and Conrad Doucette (slightly invisible on the left of the frame, on drums). 2. Jacob (who has a great name), Morgan, and Ashley were here “covering” the event for Crushable.com. I told them I was “covering” the event myself. Getting in free is popular.

To celebrate its sixth year of ’net life, Guernica magazine took over the powerHouse arena in DUMBO. These days, magazines are sinking faster than fruit flies in soaped beer, so Guernica’s lasting six years is no mean feat. Those who wanted to celebrate Guernica (and who were willing to brave the shit weather) got themselves the usual powerHouse fair of BK brews and not-box wine in addition to philanthropy’s warm fuzz. Which was good, since literary get-togethers benefit from booze: the anxious edge that dogs gatherings of introverts drains from the air and scroungers’ fingers get drunk nimble as they discretely fill satchels with free crackers. And, after a few drinks, the types and stripes of blazers and horn-rimmed glasses that line the floors of these things distinguish themselves: bookish lightweights become overly boisterous, joyful, while inveterate drinkers maintain crisp speech as they ask for one more beer.

1. Jennie Engelhardt and Emily Harrison. A co-founder of Hare+Hart, which donated the kid gloves, Jennie was nice enough to laugh at my stupid rabbit and deer skin jokes. 2. Karen and James, partygoers. I rather liked James’ tie.

The event was emceed by Laura Krafft, not the tomb raider. Laura, who’s from LA (or, The Place Where There Are No Bed Bugs), was very concerned about NYC’s bed bug problem. There was also a performance by Alina Simone, chanteuse, and a silent auction. Up for bidding were items including kid gloves (see, kid gloves: that’s where that phrase comes from!) and a Very Big Book. One of the editors of Guernica confessed to me — this may be an exaggeration — that he was considering making the minimum bid on the Very Big Book and selling the book himself on eBay. I couldn’t get Google Shopper to tell me how much the book was worth, or I would have done that myself. I could have, possibly, suggested that plan to the intern who held up a bag of left-over cheese at the after party and told me, “I don’t get paid. This is my payment!” She was, after all, nice enough to share her cheese.

1. Literary Agent Sarah E. Dickman of the Nicholas Ellison Agency has little luck getting a yellow cab in the BK hinterlands. 2. Not rabbit or deer gloves; kid gloves. 4. Baklava, fuck yea!