This Saturday will find me at the Nightlife: The Art Exhibition opening at The Keeley Gallery, on Bowery. As in all things worth doing in nightlife, it starts at the reasonable hour of 10pm and goes until 2am, early enough to allow the denizens of the deep to scurry off to the action elsewhere. The exhibit is presented by Flavorpill and Roxy Cottontail, curated by Derrick B. Harden and Laura O'Reilly. Artists include Ryan Keeley, Kaitlyn Stubbs and one of my favorite peeps Stephanie Podasca. The press release describes the showing as follows

The wait for the “Collective Hardware” follow-up at the space below Greenhouse has hit a snag. Curators Stuart Braunstein and Rony Rivellini promised shock and awe, and all we have now is "awww." It isn’t actually going to happen? It still might, I am told, but extensive delays with permitting have our heroes looking elsewhere for creative fulfillment. I asked Stuart what was up.

The space underneath Greenhouse seems to have found a curator. Collective Hardware’s Stuart Braunstein—who sometimes goes under the aliases Stuart Bronz, Stu Sweetness, or Bronz—will bring his considerable talents, attitude, and connections to a joint that wouldn’t be cool even if they left the doors open in January. Greenhouse is a machine, and those that like it love it, and there is nothing wrong with that. I like everybody there except for a few and they know who they are. I mean, I did throw my birthday bash there a few years back and my Blackbook one year anniversary bash, and I deejayed there a bunch, but sometimes “rifts” separate men and sometimes spaces evolve or devolve into other things. I still think it’s one of the best rooms in the city, and I was indeed the fellow who convinced Jon B to get over there and partner up with my lifelong friends Merlin Bob and Timmy Regisford. They have been keeping that Shelter party around since the birth of nightlife, and are deserving of mad props. The room Stu Sweetness is gonna make work is downstairs, next to the room with all the leaves. It will have its own entrance and not much else in terms of décor.

Yesterday I attended the premiere screening of Dirty Old Town, a film shot in my hood starring people from my hood. The screening was in my hood as well—just around the way—at the Sunshine Cinema. The movie, from Jenner Furst, Daniel Blevin, and Julia Willoughby Nason, stars local heroes William Leroy of the Houston Street antiques hub Billy’s Antiques and Props, his partner in grime, Lorraine Leckie, former club god Nicholas De Cegli, and my man, Paul Sevigny. Another local hero, director Abel Ferrara, presents the flick. The story centers around Billy’s and its cast of real life and made-up characters. The plot is sort of irrelevant, like the plot in a porn flick. It’s a tale of Billy’s desperate attempt to raise loot to pay back rent, one that also features a hot junkie who steals, prostitutes, dirty cops, and robbers. All the usual and unusual suspects are on hand, including a bunch of the local dogs. The story seems a mere excuse for the sexy scenes of the streets— a life and a neighborhood—that is quickly being gentrified into folklore.

The demise, departure, destruction—er, padlocking—of Collective Hardware has resulted in name-calling, accusations, innuendo, bold face lies and controversy. In other words: Same as it ever was. If only this place had collected this much hype in its last few months, they wouldn’t be hocking the hardware now. The closing of Collective Hardware has been volatile, thanks to the aforementioned poor journalism from the mouths of babes who just don’t understand nightlife, try as they might. My emails, Facebook, and cell phone are a battleground of “he saids, she saids” with some “never-evers” thrown in for good—or bad—measure. I doubt the full story of the venue’s downfall will ever come out and, if it does, it will never be believed.

They’re calling it The Hunger, but the friends, family and press that showed up at Grotta Azzurra restaurant last night knew nothing about skipping a meal. The Hunger is a moveable feast that’s parked itself at Grotta for the next few days. Top chef alumni and dearest friend Camille Becerra has teamed up with Sky Group’s Alan Philips and Josh Shames and her unusual suspects including Erickson and Eli to dazzle us with this "pop-up" restaurant concept. Camille has taken over the kitchen and basement dining room located eight feet from the door of Goldbar. The Hunger team plans to move this event to various restaurants in coming weeks.

Since the house is on fire, let us warm ourselves. -- Italian proverb

Darin Rubell is transforming the Lower East Side, one arts and culture venue at a time. The owner of Gallery Bar and Ella (opened last fall with partners Josh and Jordan Boyd) is no stranger to the ins and outs of nightlife. Let's just say it runs in the family -- his cousin is legendary Studio 54 owner Steve Rubell.

Dining might be the new nightlife, so then where does that leave nightlife? Could nightlife be the new shopping? Could it be still alive and well, and hiding behind a bandolier of dusty velvet ropes? Our dear Foster's existential breakdown and subsequent pocketbook damage got me to thinking about what everyone else (re: people with jobs other than chronicling New York nightlife) is doing with their free time in Manhattan. I cornered a Wall Street Dude, a New York Newbie, a Hipster DJ, a girl-about-town Socialite, a Fashion Intern, and a Lawyer to see what's going on behind our editorial backs. Turns out actually going someplace isn't a precursor for strong opinions, pro or con. For example:

Did some Nostradamus-type advertising guru from T.G.I. Friday's invent textese, therefore predicting the SMS revolution me and my Blackberry are now celebrating? I went to the T.G.I. Friday's website to check and was bombarded with heavy metal music and images of violently searing meat, bottle-tossing bartenders and sexy Midwestern waitresses. Too much before my morning lemonade. I'm in love with my Blackberry. It doesn't mean I want to marry it, but I do plan on taking it on vacation. Some say I'll have a better time if I leave her at home and go with some random gal, but I told them to gft.