Small Calamities

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Be My Escape
July 30, 2008 | permalink

I saw a funny thing the other day. And when I say funny, I mean I stopped dead in the street laughing like an idiot when I saw it, totally helpless, no doubt to the great disinterest of my fellow pedestrians.

You see, on 3rd Ave, near 17th Street, there is a two story building. There is a business on each floor. The one on the ground floor is called Still. The one above is Sal Anthony's School of Movement. Get it? Still? Movement? Funny, no? (If you doubt me, here is the Google Maps Street View to prove it...)

Of course, as comical as I find that juxtaposition, it leads me to questions. How many people walk by there every day oblivious to the joke? How many times have I walked past without noticing? Are either of the parties involved aware of how funny this is? Did one of them do it on purpose? If so, I want to buy them a beer.

How much more comedy is out there, Gentle Readers, going unappreciated?

Posted in Around New York & Random & The World is a Funny Place
(0) Comments

Soft Sell
May 27, 2008 | permalink

Before I begin, Gentle Readers, let me say that I appreciate the irony of finding humor in the very spam I was bitching about earlier today. But really, this is too good to pass up.

The spam in question (excerpt above) would have us infer that Viagra has come out with a chewable tablet (they haven't). And really, it seems plausible enough. It seems like there is a chewable version of everything these days. The funny part is that someone on the marketing staff with either a phenomenally well developed sense of humor or an unbelievably underdeveloped brain decided to call it Viagra Soft.

Now that's comedy.

Posted in Random
(2) Comments

Laughing Cavalier
December 14, 2007 | permalink

I had quite an adventure last week.

I was in Miami on a job, and I went out to a late dinner with The Boss (who is the very model of a charming Englishman), The Cylon (one of the designers I work with, whom, as you may guess from my nickname, is literal-minded, has a big brain, and over-analyzes things), and Uncle Mike (a boisterous and gruff ex-roadie who now runs one of the companies that we often deal with). We were perusing the menu of a place with a bunch of outdoor tables (actually, it's Miami Beach... they all have outdoor tables), and a couple of women went by and made some comment to the effect that we should pass that place by. Uncle Mike goes after them and strikes up a conversation, in the hopes of securing a good recommendation for dinner from a couple of what he assumed were locals- both he and The Boss have a pretty discerning palette.

In his absence the rest of us decided that we were too hungry to go on looking, and got a table. Uncle Mike came back in a few minutes with the women in tow. They were, it turns out, not locals at all, they were just giving us a hard time. They were also completely trashed, really loud, and had invited themselves to dinner.

Gentle Readers, they spent the next two hours mercilessly hitting on me, much to the amusement of not only my dinner companions, but (as we later learned) of the people at the tables around us as well. I will not repeat the innuendo and double entendre that I was subjected to- but I am sure you can imagine the kind of things that a couple of drunk, trashy, 48ish year old women, one of whose husband was wandering the area in a rage looking for her, might say. Suffice it to say, it was more attention than I am used to getting. I am not exaggerating to say that if I wished (and believe me, I did not!), I could have taken at least one of them, if not both of them, back to my room for the remainder of the evening.

The Boss was so amused that he lost no opportunity to relate the story to the other people that we knew working on this gig. For days I was getting good natured teasing from even the producers, including the woman who is the top dog and, quite frankly, someone who I doubted had a sense of humor in the first place. And I have to admit that I do think the whole thing is funny, and I am getting a good smile out of it even now. Not to mention the amusement I feel to learn that I am, apparently, a cougar magnet.

Posted in Out of Town & Random & Social Life & Working
(1) Comments

That's the Way
September 24, 2007 | permalink

I am getting ready to leave the house on Saturday to meet my sister The Star, and there is a knock at the door. It's the super, and he says there is a rattle in the pipes somewhere in my apartment line, and he needs to turn on the water in the kitchen and bathroom to see if it is originating with me. So, I let him in and finish getting ready to go. No problem.

Yeah, right.

I poke my head in the bathroom before I leave, and he is trying, in vain, to turn on the hot water faucet. I have been fighting a losing battle with the faucet to keep it working... the threads have been stripping out. I keep making it work for a while, and it keeps getting worse. (Sure, I could have had him fix it, but I hate to be a bother unless it is absolutely necessary, you know? Or, I am just stubborn.) So, of course, it completely gives up the ghost while the super is there.

He runs downstairs to grab a new faucet handle, and returns in a couple of minutes. He switches it, turns on the water to test it (it worked just fine, no slippage), and turns it back off. Only the water doesn't fully turn off. I am not talking about a drip here, Gentle Readers. This was a steady stream of water. The super then says, and I quote, 'That's no good.'

So he turns off the valve on the wall that should, in theory, shut off all of the hot water in the bathroom. It makes no difference at all to the stream of water pouring from the faucet. 'You have a problem inside, my friend. I fix.'

So, I left, and left him to it. When I came back later, I noticed right away that there was a rusty hacksaw blade on the floor outside the bathroom door. I knew right then that I was in for a treat.

Sure enough, not only were both faucet handles gone, but the spigot had been hacked off, and the resultant hole had the vestige of the pipe in it, surrounded by plumbing putty. It looked kind of like a neck, after the head has been decapitated. At least it wasn't leaking at all. Oh, and there was a note: 'Be careful when using the sink.' Be careful?!? I would have to use pliers to get it to work at all. It was all quite amusing.

So, in theory, it will be finished today. Although this morning the guy downstairs knocked on my door to say that there was water leaking down from my bathroom. Which, since I had no water running at all, is Not a Good Sign. I think there must be a leak in the wall, now. I think my whole bathroom is going to get torn apart this week...

Posted in Random & The Home Front
(5) Comments

The Map of Belgium
August 13, 2007 | permalink

I was out and about today, enjoying the beautiful weather, and I was treated to several strange and unusual sights, all of which (in their own special way) reminded me of how much I love this fabulous city, and how no matter how many times you have walked through it's streets, there is always something new to see. Of course, sometimes it's not really new, it's just something tucked away in an out of the way place. Well, like this:

Really?!? A plaque dedicated to the first automobile fatality in the Western Hemisphere? Is that something that we really want to advertise? On the other hand, it is kind of fitting. I can't imagine a place more plausible than New York to be the site of the first poor bastard to be run down by a car. And I suppose it can be viewed as a kind of cautionary tale for the tourists- look where you're going, if you want to get out of here in one piece. Sometimes it seems like they (the tourists, I mean) lack all sense of self preservation, so I suppose every little bit helps.

Then there was this little gem:

I guess it's an HOV lane scam. But I would think that a) you would want to perhaps conceal your scam once you were in the city and your car was parked, and b) you would use a dummy that was a little more realistic. This picture isn't great, so you might not be able to tell, but it's basically a cotton scarecrow with a paper mask on. It's kind of creepy, actually.

Regretfully, the last unexpected thing I saw I was unable to get a picture of- I just wasn't fast enough. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tail disappear into a knothole in a tree. My top-brain said 'squirrel,' but my bottom-brain thought that didn't look quite right, so I stopped and peered into the hole, which was at least 9 inches across and 18 feet up, and a raccoon poked his head out. He looked at me for a few minutes (enough time for me to have gotten a picture, except I was too fascinated to think of it) and then disappeared back inside, presumably to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

What did you see this weekend?

Posted in Around New York & Random
(4) Comments

Quiet as a Mouse
August 7, 2007 | permalink

What do you do, Gentle Readers, when you have a knotty problem you need to solve? Do you sit and pick at it, peering for any weakness or chink, searching for the first step and meticulously picking it apart thread by thread until you've unraveled it? Or do you set it down, and circle it from a distance, examining the whole thing, trying to hold the shape of it in your mind and understand it, and wait for it to tell you what the solution is?

I'm thinking about this because it is nearly Fashion season again, which is of course my busiest and most hectic time of year. The entire month of August is pretty much consumed with The Boys (and by The Boys I mean our design staff) designing and re-designing our shows, while Smacktalk and I, in our roles as the production department, try to figure out the least stupid way to implement the aforementioned designs. Sometimes the shows are relatively simple and straightforward, without any major challenges (even the simplest has minor challenges). And sometimes there are major challenges, but they are similar enough to something that one of us has encountered before that it isn't too long until we find an acceptable solution. Every once in a while, though, something comes up that really stumps us.

Which, really, is part of the fun of the job. I like the challenges that come up, a lot. What I find endlessly fascinating (aside from the problems themselves, of course) is how Smacktalk and I will consistently approach these problems in such completely different ways. He is far more methodical than I am, and will worry the problem apart by sheer stubbornness. Sometimes it is almost like the fact that the problem exists is a personal affront to him, and he cannot rest until it is resolved.

I, on the other hand, am content to mull it over and let it percolate in my head for a while. Often, while I am doing something else, the answer (or an answer, at least- I'm not claiming to be the be-all end-all here) become clear to me. I have a lot of Eureka! moments in the shower.

It's funny, too, because his way of doing things will often drive me nuts. And vice-versa- I know that it makes him crazy that I will seemingly ignore the problem that is driving him insane, just as it makes me crazy that he wants to talk the problem to death rather than let it sit for a bit.

So how about you? Are you a picker or a percolator?

Posted in Fashion Week & Musings & Random & Working
(4) Comments

You'll Have Time
August 3, 2007 | permalink

The other day was my one year anniversary at my full time job. I can't believe how fast it went by. I can't believe how fast time seems to be going by as I get older, period.

In fact, I think the sensation that the passage of time is accelerating is the thing I most notice as I get older. Not that I'm saying I am an old man, mind you; but there are definitely some changes. My eyesight is not quite as good as it was when I was twenty, for example. I have some grey hair. I ache more than I used to the morning after a hard day's work. None of that makes me feel old, though. I still feel strong as an ox (or a bear, if you like) and in the prime of health and heartiness and virility. Hell, I even like the grey hair. It's dignified. But the way time seems to go by... that makes me feel old. My sense of time kind of sucks anyway, which I am sure isn't helping; it just seems to go by so much faster thank it used to. It's a little disconcerting, at times.

I am sure you will be surprised, Gentle Readers, to hear that I have some theories on this phenomenon. Well, maybe not. Be that as it may, everyone I have mentioned this to say that they have the same sensation of time speeding up as they age, so I feel secure in laying out my theory and making broad statements about how everyone's brains work. It might all be crap, of course, but it makes sense to me.

I think there are two things happening, both of which contribute to the sensation of time accelerating. The first is that as you get older, each successive year is a smaller fraction of your life experience than the one before, and so each one gets less and less real estate in your memory. The summer you were five was 5% of your life up to that point; when you get to be 30, those same three months are 0.8% of your life. And the numbers only get smaller from there...

Additionally, I think that new experiences make much more of an impact on your memory than something that has become normal or routine. I'm sure all of you can remember every detail of your first kiss. What can you remember about a kiss you had last month? I also think that we use the things that stick out in our memories as milestones. As you live your life, an ever smaller proportion of the things that you do are new experiences; they simply have less impact. There are fewer things to break up the monotony, so to speak, and as a result time seems to go by faster than it used to.

Anyway, that's my take. Like I said, it might be crap, but it makes sense to me.

Posted in Musings & Random
(3) Comments

Street Corner Ambassador
July 31, 2007 | permalink

Some days I just don't know what to write.

Sometimes, of course, I stare at the blank screen and just can't think of a single thing that I find interesting enough to write out even just for myself, let alone for you, Gentle Readers. It doesn't happen too terribly often, though- I have a really low fascination threshold (ooo, bright shiny thing!), and of course I do like expounding on my views and opinions on a wide variety of subjects, as you have no doubt noticed.

What happens more often is that I cannot narrow down what I want to say into any kind of cohesive or sensible narrative. I sit at the screen, positively bursting with things to say, and yet I cannot find the words to express any of them in a way that does any justice to the thoughts in my head. It's especially bad when I am feeling crappy and want to talk about why I feel that way.

Maybe it's because I am not clear, myself, on how to express some of my ideas. Or maybe I have too many things running through my mind at once, and I cannot focus enough on any one line of thought long enough to make it clear to anyone but me. I suppose if I knew the answer I wouldn't be here writing about how I can't write.

Isn't that a fun little paradox?

Posted in Blogging & Musings & Random
(1) Comments

Working Man
July 6, 2007 | permalink

I have accepted Kelsi's open invitation to follow suit (here is her list, over at This Could Take a While) and share eight things that most people don't know about me. I tried to be really good about it, and not include anything that I have talked about at length in this forum or with my offline people. So, without further ado, here it is:

Eight Things (Most) People Don't Know About Me

• I took classes in Mandarin Chinese for a few years, and as a result I can communicate in Mandarin out loud and in writing at about the level of a retarded first-grader*. Which, while that sounds pretty lame, is actually really cool, and I wish I had kept up with it. My pronunciation was always atrocious (I never could master the inflections), but my calligraphy did receive praise. If I ever go to China and immerse myself, I may just communicate through notes and pretend to be mute, to avoid undue embarrassment.
• I have all my parts. I have never had any teeth removed, or my appendix, or my tonsils.
• My pinky toes both twist sort of upward and inward, and sit on top of my feet, instead of next to my other toes. More than one doctor has proposed making a couple of little cuts and lengthening the tendons, to make them lie 'correctly,' but I have always refused. I mean, as far as I am concerned, they are just fine the way they are.
• I was once arrested for Possession of Marijuana. No charges were filed, however, and I was released within a couple of hours.
• One quarter of the weddings that I have been to in my life have been my one or the other of my parents'. Seriously. Two were The Old Man's, and one was my Mother's. Trashy? Maybe. But that's just how we roll...
• I spent most of the fourth year of my life pretending to be Batman. And I was whole-heartedly committed to the endeavor- I had a costume and utility belt, and got into all kinds of mischief while I searched for evil-doers around the house.
• I don't fear anything except my own weakness. Unfortunately I see the list of my weaknesses as long and far-reaching, so that covers a lot of ground.
• I put on a decent show most of the time (at least, I think I do... I recognize that I might be deceiving myself on this point) at having my shit together, but mostly I despair that I will ever find peace in my mind and in my heart. I haven't conceded defeat yet, but I'm not as hopeful as I once was. This probably isn't really a revelation to you, Gentle Readers, but with the people I interact with offline I am not quite so open and forthcoming as I am here.
*Apologies to any Mandarin-speaking retarded first graders who may be reading. I don't mean to offend...

I'd pick eight of you to be 'it' and make a list of your own, but I am not sure that I have that many readers (ha ha ha ha). So I invite any and all of you to give it a go. Let me know if you do, I'd like to make sure to check it out...

Posted in Blogging & Random
(3) Comments

Fretless
July 5, 2007 | permalink

I'm reading Jules Verne's classic Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and I have to tell you that I am finding it fascinating. Not in the way that you probably think, though.

I mean, yes; it's a masterwork of science fiction, and an adventure story of the highest caliber, and on those levels it is a great and worthy book. But I expected as much going in. While I have never read it before, I have seen (albeit many years ago) the movie adaptation, and I am familiar with the plot. What I didn't expect was this amazing cultural juxtaposition that I am seeing as I read it.

A lot of the plot, if you are unfamiliar with it, hinges on the technological marvel that Captain Nemo has created in his ship, The Nautilus, and its support devices: electric motors and lights, taser guns, and scuba gear, to name a few. Most of this technology was only theory and guesswork at the time the book was written, and completely foreign to the average reader. For example, there is a passage accurately describing the workings of an arc lamp- carbon points, separated by a small gap, sealed in a vacuum to prolong the life of the points and to enhance the brightness and steadiness of the light thus emitted- that pre-dates Edison's first successful light bulb by a decade. The workings of the submarine and scuba gear are described with a similar visionary accuracy.

To compensate for the probable lack in his readers' knowledge about such things (things that the modern reader is already familiar with, and therefore needs no explanations for), Verne worked clear and excellent explanations of the theories and methods involved in building and using these devices into the narrative. This allowed a much wider audience to enjoy the novel.

You with me so far? This is where it gets good.

The copy of the book I am reading is one of the Barnes and Noble Classics editions. I am sure you are familiar with them- they are cheap and designed for the student, with footnotes and endnotes, discussion questions, and a decent introduction to give the reader a solid context for the story. As such, all of the classical and historical references in the narrative, which all of Verne's audience would have grasped without question, are footnoted with an explanation for the modern reader, who is presumed to be ignorant of such things. It's really wild, to me, to see these two methods for filling in the presumed ignorance of two very different groups of readers used side by side at the same time.

I realize that this might be a boring story to you, Gentle Readers, and if it is, I apologize. But this is the kind of thing that really tickles the Bear's grey matter...

Posted in Musings & Random
(2) Comments

Noche Azul
May 28, 2007 | permalink

I was walking down the street Friday night after work in Soho. The streets were crowded with people and cars, and the congestion from people trying to get to the Holland Tunnel was about average (by which I mean awful, what with the honking and gridlock). I was crossing Broome at Broadway, and there were two things that struck me as odd.

The first was the large clock on the outside of the building that the Staples is in. It gave the time as 2:35. The time was in fact 7:10. Did I happen to walk by at the exact time that a broken clock was wrong in the exactly opposite way? Or is it somehow geared backwards, with the hour and minute hands reversed? Was this done on purpose, or is it some kind of awesome prank? We may never know the answer to these questions. Well, at least until I walk by again at another time of day.

The second thing that I thought was funny was a guy in a car. He wasn't too funny in and of himself- just a guy, about fifty, clean-shaven and with a short, almost conservative haircut. There was a sign stuck on the dash, visible through the windshield. It wasn't really funny by itself either. It read: 'Clergyman on Official Church Business,' and it had a very official looking seal underneath the text. Very serious stuff, to be sure.

What was funny was the car. The (presumed) clergyman, looking respectable, was driving a gold Trans Am convertible. With the top down. On Official Church Business.

I wonder if he called it the Priestmobile... because that is totally what I would call it.

Posted in Around New York & Random
(3) Comments

Honey for the Bears
May 12, 2007 | permalink

So, a couple of weeks ago, while perusing BoingBoing, I saw a post about Monsters by Mail. The idea was pretty simple- come up with a fictional monster movie title, and for the small sum of twenty dollars American, Len would make a drawing of your monster, and send it to you. I thought it was brilliant, and I just had to have one.

Gentle Readers, I give you The Were-Bear of New York: Savagery in the Subway, which is in the mail on it's way to me as we speak. Pretty cool, eh?

While the Movie Monster run is closed, a new theme is forthcoming, so if this is up your alley (and I suspect, if you keep coming back here, that it must be for some of you, at least) then you should keep an eye on the Monsters by Mail site.

Posted in Random
(4) Comments

Washed Away
May 4, 2007 | permalink

UPDATE: My clothes have been found. They turned up yesterday at the laundromat, having been given out to the wrong patron. Which is a big relief. Why it took them so long to bring them back and correct the error, however, is a mystery to me.

The laundromat lost my clothes.

I'm not talking about a couple of items here; I mean the whole bag, three weeks worth of clothes and assorted sundries like towels and handkerchiefs and pajamas. The bag was thirty five pounds of laundry, give or take, and I'm sure you won't be surprised when I tell you that it represented the vast majority of my wardrobe. Not to mention that of course all of the clothes that I like best were in there- the things I am least fond of I left to wear last.

I was at the Laundromat for close to two hours last night, helping them look. They are very nice people over there, and I have been going to them with my washing for years. We had several theories about what the problem could be. It's possible that my bag ripped, and so was replaced with one of a different color, and if that was the case my laundry was just hiding in plain sight. (No such luck.) Or, it could be that it mistakenly was loaded in the delivery van, and would show up when the delivery guy, who was due soon, showed up. (The van was empty.) Maybe it fell behind something? (Nope.)

By the time I left, the owner, her sons and I pawed, examined, and opened every single bag in the place. None of them were filled with my clothes. The only plausible alternatives tot he clothes still being in the laundromat somewhere that still eludes us all are that either a) someone was mistakenly given (or mistakenly took) my bag instead of their own, or b) someone purposely gave away (or took) my bag in addition to their own. In the first case, I can't imagine why they wouldn't return with my clothes to exchange them for their own clothes, and in the second, well, I just don't get it. I am not, Gentle Readers, that snappy of a dresser that someone would covet my clothing.

I left without any real resolution. They were going to continue to look today, and go through the claim tickets of the bags that have been picked up to see if there were any clues as to my laundry's whereabouts. I took the initiative and made as accurate a list as I could of what was in the bag, and what it would cost to replace it all ($568.50, as I figure it) so that tonight when I go in and they still haven't found it, I can have a conversation with them about reimbursing me for my clothes.

What really sucks is that by the time I go to sleep on Sunday, I need to be packed for a two week trip to Santa Monica, where I am being dispatched to look after The Boss' interests in a fashion show we are providing the design for. So by Sunday afternoon at the latest I need to be buying more clothes. I have less than a weeks worth of stuff right now, and like I said, most of it is not clothes that I am particularly fond of. If I weren't going out of town, I would try to stretch it out a while, doing laundry often and wearing the same things for a couple of weeks, but I don't think that I can show up in Santa Monica, representing The Boss, looking like a schlub in the same three outfits.

I expect that the Laundromat will not want to give up on finding my clothes so quickly, and I am going to have to rebuild a significant portion of my wardrobe out of my own pocket. My fear it that I will lay out a few hundred dollars this weekend, and then they will find my bag while I am gone, so I'll be left high and dry.

Grrr....

Posted in Around New York & Bad Luck & Random
(3) Comments

The Transistor
April 23, 2007 | permalink

I remembered this story the other day. Why, I cannot say; I was in the middle of a completely unrelated conversation with two completely unrelated people. Unrelated to the story, that is. Though come to think of it, they are both unrelated to me as well. And each other. But I digress...

I was maybe 14, and had babysitting duty that day. The Old Man had something to do in the afternoon, and I was supposed to make sure to get to the house before the littler ones came home. Upon arriving, I found a note on the door, in The Old Man's hand. The note said:

The dog is loose inside. Be careful not to let him out when you come in.

Gentle Readers, at this time in our lives, we did not have a dog. I was coming home to an empty, unlocked house, like I had a zillion times, and there had never been any weird notes like this left for me. I couldn't decide at the time (though I have a pretty good idea now) if the note was some kind of joke on me, or a strange attempt to deter anyone who might be walking around the neighborhood looking to burgle a house in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. Either way, I thought it was just so odd.

Anyway, I left the note up for the others to see and went about the afternoon. The Littler Ones came home. The Star and Rockette came home. We snickered at the note, and how weird The Old Man was. And then we forgot about it. At least, I did.

A little bit later there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a man with a clipboard. He introduced himself and said he was from the Department of Animal Control, told me that they were doing a Census of Household Pets, and asked how many animals were living here.

None, I said. (Remember the note?)

What about this dog? he asked, pointing at the note that I had oh so cleverly left on the door. He starts trying to peer around me in the doorway.

Oh that! I stammered something about how it was a joke, The Old Man is such a prankster, ha ha ha... It was clear that he didn't believe a word of what I was saying, and thought that I was standing there lying to his face. He asked again about pets in the house, saying he didn't care if the dog was licensed or anything- he just needed to know if there were any here. I told him again that we had no pets, and he made a couple of notes on his clipboard and left.

Now, I ask you, what are the fucking odds of that happening? I mean, really? The one day there is an odd, cryptic note on the door about a dog, the Animal Control people come around?

I'm telling you, life is weird.

Posted in Family Matters & Random & The Old Man & The Past
(3) Comments

Paper Kitten Nightmare
April 3, 2007 | permalink

I had a bunch of weird dreams last night. Not bad ones, mind you, which is kind of a switch; just weird.

Each one taken separately wasn't so odd, as dreams go. What was so strange was that they were dreams within dreams, veritable Russian nesting dolls of my subconscious. As they changed from one to the other, I kept thinking to myself, 'That was such a strange dream I was having!' and I would seek someone out, to tell them about it. In each case though, I got interrupted or distracted by one thing or another, and before I knew it I was dreaming a new dream, but thinking that I was awake; and in the middle of something mundane I would suddenly remember that I had just had the strangest dream... It went on like that all night.

Aside from remembering that I was constantly dreaming about dreams, I only remember a very few details of any of them now. Just a few isolated, disjointed bits and pieces: getting caught in bed with a woman I know by her children (a woman I hardly ever see, have never slept with, and who does not have children, by the way); sitting in on a board meeting with people from a production company I work with, sitting next to Turtalia and Smacktalk; panicking over unpaid bills for a credit card I don't have; being at a big party in a barn, where I could hear a lot of people, but could see no one.

I know there were more things that happened- I remember remembering them, this morning. But those few bits are all that I can recall, now. The rest are just out of memory, like a word at the tip of my tongue.

Posted in Musings & Random
(1) Comments

Play Something Sweet
February 28, 2007 | permalink

I've been so apathetic and unmotivated lately. Downright lazy, even. As much as I like the winter and enjoy the cold weather, that I am ready for sunshine, longer days, and warmer weather. I think the lack of sunlight has been getting me down. Blaaahh...

Posted in Musings & Random
(4) Comments

Tangled
February 16, 2007 | permalink

One of the things that I like best about people is their amazing capacity to create new things from the works that have come before them, re-imagining or re-interpreting an idea in such a way as to simultaneously create something wholly new and pay homage to their source of inspiration. Painters, musicians, and poets have been doing this practically forever, and when I see it done well it never fails to move me.

One of my favorite examples of the form is a good cover song. I'm not talking about note for note renditions; any competent musician can do that. I'm talking about genre-busting, re-arranged, re-interpretations that blow your mind, and make you wonder how the artist ever extracted that from the original version. My music library is full of them. The Gourds' bluegrass version of Snoop Dogg's Gin and Juice, Cat Powers' stripped down rendition of The Rolling Stones' Satisfaction, Johnny Cash's slow and soulful delivery of Trent Reznor's Hurt. If you aren't familiar, you really should listen to them. Really.

But music is of course not the only place that you see this circle of inspiration and re-interpretation, and sometimes the results can be very surprising. Way back in the day of High School English, one of my favorite poems was William Blake's The Tyger. Surely you remember:

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

It's a fantastic piece of literary work, and certainly worthy of tribute. I came across an amazing variation of The Tyger, listening to the webcast of The Cowboy Cultural Society a couple of years ago, and that god-awful panther mirror reminded me of it. This is an excerpt from the 1st runner up of the 20th Annual National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, held in Elko, Nevada, in January of 2004. Sadly, I cannot find the poet's name, but here it is:

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forest of the night,
how'd you get to cowboy plains
and what is it you're stalking?

Have you come to feed on me,
or is it the peyote talking?

Sheer genius, Gentle Readers, sheer genius.

Posted in Musings & Random

Jet Pilot
January 29, 2007 | permalink

We're big game players in my family. Going to my Mother's isn't complete without at least one night of games. Trivial Pursuit, Scattergories, Pictionary, Cranium; the kinds of games where quick wits count more than luck, and you really have the opportunity to trample your opponents' pride. I know that there are some people that hold that there are no winners and no losers- that doesn't fly in my house. Competition is the name of the game.

When we were younger, my brothers and sisters and I would play games all the time, and we were a lot more competitive and a lot less scrupulous than we are now. Winning was key, and the unspoken rule was that if you could get away with it, it was legal. Moving someone's piece to a less advantageous position when they weren't looking? Hell yes. Writing words out during Pictionary to later obscure with some meaningless scribble while your partner played like it was your superior drawing was the key? Absolutely (though this really only worked in an 'All Play' situation when your opponents were distracted). Rewiring your Operation game so that it only buzzed when you wanted it to? Definitely. And Monopoly.... that was the Holy Grail of underhandedness. Stealing money from the bank was always popular, especially if you were the banker (my brother The Architect is banned for life from being the banker- he was too greedy not to get caught); but stealing other players' money and even property was perfectly alright, provided you could get away with it, to say nothing of stiffing people on rent, palming favorable Chance Cards, and underpaying for houses and hotels.

This standard of play quickly resulted in a series of shifting and uneasy alliances, one or more of us agreeing to help one of the other siblings look after their interests in exchange for the same consideration. Of course, if such an agreement became a liability, betraying your allies was a possibility as well. The political intrigues of a royal palace had nothing on us.

But that's all in the past. All of the cheating, backstabbing and intrigue was a lot of fun, for a while; really it was like another game on top of (or maybe underneath?) whatever game we were really playing. But eventually we knew all of each other's dirty tricks and lies and tells, and so the fun of the cheat fizzled out. But the fun of subjugating your siblings through superior play? That never gets old.

Anyone up for a game?

Posted in Family Matters & Random & The Past
(2) Comments

I'm So Excited / I'm So Scared
January 14, 2007 | permalink

I went with my sister The Star this evening to get her first tattoo. And believe me, I do mean first; she already has the next one planned out. In the picture is the shirt she wore especially for the occasion, which I thought was funny as hell.

She was really cute tonight, actually. She was nervous that it would be unbearably painful (it wasn't) and that she wouldn't be able to communicate what she wanted to the tattoo artist clearly enough (she was) or that she wouldn't like it as much as she'd thought she would once it was done (she loved it). It's been awhile since I felt 'big brotherly', if that makes any sense. While I am 4 1/2 years older, she is nearly thirty, and I've thought of her as an adult instead of as my kid sister for many years. Playing that role tonight was nice.

I was touched, actually, that she asked me to accompany her. The Star, as you might well imagine of someone who gets such a nickname, has no shortage of friends (both tattooed and not) who would have gladly gone with her and been her moral support. I'm really happy that I was able to be there with her tonight, instead.

Posted in Around New York & Family Matters & Random

An Old Fashioned Love Song
January 12, 2007 | permalink

The two designers, Smacktalk, and myself threw in and bid on a Foosball Table on Ebay last week. We won over the weekend, and it arrived at the office yesterday.

As I'm sure you can imagine, post-arrival productivity dropped to zero as the four of us assembled and subsequently tested the table. It's not high end, by any means, but it is pretty sweet nonetheless; it even has collapsible drink holders built in. I was sadly the loser in our first inter-office elimination match, which meant I had to buy the beer last night. Not the worst thing...

The only problem with the table, really, is that we have not told the boss about it yet. You see, he's been out of town. He's due back this afternoon, and we figure he will say one of two things. Either, 'What the hell is that thing doing here?' or 'I have next game.''

Time will tell...

Posted in Random & Working

Somebody Told Me
January 5, 2007 | permalink

To live in a big city like New York, you have to become a practitioner of the fine art of Not Noticing if you want to keep your sanity. There is just too much of everything to pay attention to all of it all the time; too many people, too much dirt, too much despair, too much waste, too much wealth, too much noise. Seeing it all, all the time, would drive you mad, and make New York unlivable. That's why tourists and newcomers have that wide-eyed look of dazed confusion and wonder on their faces all the time- they're not just amazed, they are over-stimulated (while there haven't been any studies on the subject, I think if you hooked them up to an MRI you would find evidence of brain-damage, little seizures or the like running through their gray matter).

Eventually, though, you learn to pay attention only to the things that are directly impacting you at that moment. A New Yorker can completely miss a fire engine roaring down the avenue while they manage to sidestep a pile of dogshit that they can't even see because their arms are full of groceries. And this kind of tunnel vision doesn't just benefit the individual and protect their brain from leaking out of their ears; everyone's collective tunnel vision combines, and along with the inherent anonymity of living among so many other people becomes a kind of buffer. It's what lets us pretend that we have some privacy and go about our lives in a normal fashion. It's why we can walk around our apartments undressed without worrying that our neighbors are watching through the windows, or have intensely personal conversations while walking down a crowded street, or relax and read the paper during rush hour.

Now, all that said, if you do pay attention to what is going on around you (which I do try to do), you can see a lot of strange and funny things in this city, things that only happen because most people are Not Noticing. I saw something just this morning, while I was riding the subway to work, that really illustrates my point. I know that some of you will not believe me, Gentle Readers, but I swear it's true.

I was sitting on the train, alternating between reading the paper and people watching. It was one of the older trains, and I was sitting on one of the forward-facing benches. There was a couple in front of me, on one of the benches facing into the train. Well, she was on the bench, in the middle seat with strangers on either side; he was standing in front of her.

He shuffled closer. She leaned forward and put her forehead against him, just about where his belt buckle would be, her hands hooked into his pants pockets. He arranged his jacket (which was oversized and long) so that it hung open on either side of her face, obscuring her. They were like that for a long time.

Now, I can't say that I actually saw her performing oral sex on him in the middle of the rush hour train- as I say, she was pretty well hidden by the very careful arrangement of his coat. What wasn't hidden, however, was the expression on his face, and I can tell you for a fact that I have never enjoyed the morning commute as thoroughly as he was.

I looked around to see if anyone else seemed to see what was going on, but I'm pretty sure I was the only one. Everyone else seemed to me to be very busy Not Noticing what anyone else on the train was doing.

Posted in Around New York & Musings & Random
(2) Comments

Testify
January 2, 2007 | permalink

Happy New Year, Gentle Readers. I hope that this turn of the calendar finds you happy and healthy, and not too terribly hung over from any New Year's Eve libations you may have enjoyed. Furthermore, I hope that 2006 was a success for you, and at its closing you are filled with hope and excitement for the coming year.

Here, mostly for my amusement and because I like lists, is a brief, by the numbers recap of my year, as near as I can recall. Something light and fun to start the year with. Perhaps you will also find it amusing, or barring that, at least mildly interesting. Or at least not so boring that you leave before you even finish the post.

I wrote 86 posts in this venue last year, and published 84 of them for your perusal. Well, 85 but one I later took down. I'll buy a beer for anyone that knows which one!

I added 908 songs to my music library, from the 5, 6, 7, 8's to the Yeah Yeah Yeah's. According to iTunes, the ten artists I most listened to this past year are, in no particular order: Bob Dylan, The White Stripes, Johnny Cash, Gang of Four, Gym Class Heroes, Michael Penn, Rhinocerose, The Gorillaz, and LL Cool J.

I don't watch too much television, and there are only a couple of shows that I really care if I see or not. This year, for whatever reason, I was unlucky enough to get hooked on shows that air on channels I don't even get! (I don't have cable- I came across them while out of town on gigs, while I was in hotels, if you were wondering how that happened...) Battlestar Galactica and Robot Chicken have claimed little pieces of me for their very own, and I just. can't. get. enough. It's torture.

I saw 21 movies in the theatre last year, near as I can recall: King Kong, Munich, Brokeback Mountain, Underworld: Evolution, The Hills Have Eyes, V for Vendetta, Thank You for Smoking, Silent Hill, The Sentinel, Over the Hedge, X-Men: The Last Stand, Prairie Home Companion, Nacho Libre, Superman Returns, Miami Vice, Snakes on a Plane, Saw III, Borat, Casino Royale, For Your Consideration, and Pan's Labyrinth. I think the best of the bunch was Pan's Labyrinth.

I acquired somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 new books, though I confess I have only managed to read about half of them. I don't feel the need to list them all here, but the highlights were Fledgling by Octavia Butler, His Excellency by Joseph Ellis, a collection of Robert E. Howard's Conan short stories and novellas, Captain Bluebear by Walter Moers, Bear by Robert Bieder, and the Gastronomique, by Larousse.

I took 884 photographs.

I saw several dance pieces at the Ailey School, the Dada Exhibit at the Whitney, the Russian Portraiture and Spanish Paining exhibits at the Guggenheim, and The Magic Flute at the Met.

I drank a lot less alcohol than I did the year before, in general, and I stopped smoking cigarettes altogether. Not that I smoked a ton, but still...

I ate a lot of good food with Turtalia, and a lot of good chocolate. Max Brenner's, especially, was a big hit. I cooked a lot, and a year ago this week is when I started making my own bread instead of buying it from the store.

I was less social last year than I should have been, or wanted to be, for a whole slew of reasons that I won't lay out here. It's the one thing I want most to be better at in the coming year. That said, I did have the honor and pleasure of meeting three of my fellow bloggers last year: Jess at Blindcavefish, A Lover and a Fighter at Hobocamp, and Curly McDimple at Ham and Cheese on Wry. They are every bit as charming and delightful in person as they are on the page.

I was trying to avoid work talk, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I ended eleven years of freelancing this year, and took a full time job, the second officially full time gig that I have ever had. (There was one that wasn't technically full time, but might has well have been).

And that, Gentle Readers, is my overview of the past year as I recollect it, standing here at its end.

Posted in Holidays & Musings & Random
(1) Comments

A Go Go
December 11, 2006 | permalink

On the subway this morning, I was standing next to a woman who was putting on her makeup. Not just a little blush, either- eyeliner, mascara, the whole deal; I'm sure you're all seen someone doing this before.

I was fascinated. The co-ordination and control involved are beyond me. I feel like I am having a good commute if I don't spill coffee on myself. One particularly bad commute I was taking a sip just as the train lurches, and I got a nice shot of hot coffee up my nose; so I'm sure as hell not going to put anything near my eye while I'm on the train. And yet there she is, totally calm, not missing a beat. She might as well have been at home in front of her own mirror. I was impressed.

Posted in Around New York & Random
(1) Comments

Any Type of Way
December 7, 2006 | permalink

I went to the movies the other night, and saw Casino Royale (which was awesome). Afterwards, while using the restroom, I noticed a vending machine in there. It was full of basic stuff like Tylenol and antacids and eyedrops. Except for the last slot. The last slot was full of Body Play's Tattoos for Two - The Ultimate in Fun and Fantasy.

Now, I have a pretty good imagination, and I fail to see how that claim holds up, with the exception of teh '...for Two' part. Presumably we are talking about a pair of temporary tattoos, one for him and one for her, that are applied somewhere in the region of the respective erogenous zones. Presumably. If I had had four quarters, I assure you I would have bought them, just to see what the deal is. Because from this point on, as I play this out in my head, it gets ugly.

All I can imagine is ending up with some big, blurry, blue-green stain that looks like gangrene or some other unsavory condition. I don't see that being fun at all, let alone the subject of fantasy. To say nothing of being the ultimate in either category.

Am I misreading this? Am I applying my admittedly gutterbound mind to something completely innocent and going down the wrong path? Help me out, Gentle Readers.

Posted in Around New York & Musings & Random
(1) Comments

Cold Rock
December 4, 2006 | permalink

So, I was doing this gig last week, a party at a restaurant in the Meat-Packing District. My crew and I arrived in the morning to set up, a nice, low-stress kind of work day. It was a welcome change from the job that we had done the day before, which had us dealing with a lot of very irritating people.

Anyway, we left to take our morning coffee break, and there were a couple of photographers setting up for a shoot in the street in front of the restaurant. We didn't really pay it much mind. On our way back to work from the cafe, though, we saw the largest pig that I have ever seen being led out of a trailer for the shoot. I don't know why, or what for, but when is the last time you saw a gigantic hog on a leash in New York? It was surreal.

Posted in Random
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Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love
December 1, 2006 | permalink

I was reminded of a very embarrassing story last night, about a date gone horribly awry. I still feel a tiny bit sheepish about it, actually. So of course I will share it with you, Gentle Readers.

So, I'm on this date. I'm maybe 21. It's not our first date, but it is the first seriously romantic date that we've been on. I took her to the best restaurant I knew for a candlelit dinner. We were all dressed up, and I was trying very hard to be the perfect gentleman and make it something really special. And it was working out pretty well for me. Dinner was delicious, and I was overcoming my usual social awkwardness very well. I remember feeling like I was being especially charming and witty. Right up until after dinner, when I leaned over the table to kiss her.

At the time, I had quite the head of hair. Long and curly, down to the middle of my back, at least. And on this particular evening it was unfettered, so when I leaned over the table with the candles on it... I set my hair on fire.

I jerked back, smacking myself with my hands to put out my hair, generally creating a spectacle of myself, and most certainly breaking the mood. My date tried very hard to be gracious, but I was crushed. The whole place was dead silent, looking at us, and the stink of burned hair hovered around our table all throughout dessert. It was terrible. I wanted to sink through the floor and crawl out of there. I don't think I have ever felt like such an ass on a date as I did that night. Which, believe me, I am thankful for.

I do see the humor in it, now. But at the time... not so much.

Posted in Random & The Past & Women
(2) Comments

Phantom 309
November 30, 2006 | permalink

I bought my first piece of real art this weekend ('real' as in, an original piece, signed by the artist...), and I'm very excited about it. It's something I've thought about a lot; I really like the idea of having art in the house. I have a couple of reproductions of paintings I especially like, of course, and a bunch of my own photography (ranging from snapshots of friends and family to prints that I would say have some small artistic merit) is hanging on the wall. But... maybe it's silly, but this feels different. More satisfying, somehow.

When I saw it, I knew I had to have it. Something about the washed out quality of the color, and the mechanical typewriter, so out of date and out of context lying in the grass captivated me. I guess partly because I learned to type on a very similar machine, which I used to crank out endless reams of bad stories and poetry; but also because part of me has a definite yearning for the past.

Not exactly in the way that is stereotypical of old men, longing for bygone days when everything was better. In general I think progress is a good thing, and I am filled with amazement when I think about the advances in technology and medicine and science that have occurred so far in my lifetime, and I am excited to see what comes next.

What I do wish, though, is that people still spoke with more of the elegance and wit and formality of years past. It just seems so much more refined, and I think that the more complicated language forces one to think more about what they are saying, and what they really mean to say. Even insults sound better. Doesn't 'scandalous cur' invoke so much more animosity than 'son of a bitch'?

I try, in my own poor way, to carry on those rich lingual traditions here, but I am afraid I must admit that I do not do nearly so well a job of it in person. Not that I won't keep trying... maybe I will start a movement.

UPDATE: Here is a link to the artist's site- She Hit Pause Studios. Posted in Musings & Random & The Home Front
(2) Comments

Music for When the Lights Go Out
November 22, 2006 | permalink

Gentle Readers, I'm off for lovely Upstate New York in mere moments. The fudge is made, the bread is baked, the car is rented and my work is as done as it's going to get. However, I couldn't leave without delivering one last missive before I go places where the internet is a luxury, and not a basic necessity. Like my Mother's house.

Actually, I'm very much looking forward to getting out of town for a few days, and to not having any real responsibility for anything. I'll play line cook for my Mother and chop vegetables and whatnot, and help out Red by splitting some firewood for him. Other than that, it's pretty much a life of leisure. I won't get to sleep late, because everyone else who will be at the house gets up at the crack of dawn every day (and I, unfortunately, will be sleeping in the living room); but I will have the place to myself after about 9:30 each night, because they all also go to bed ridiculously early.

I hope that you all have a lovely holiday, Gentle Readers. I hope that you eat too much (but not too too much), drink just enough, and have a great time with your families, friends, and loved ones. Thank you so much, all of you, for reading and for your comments. I feel immensely proud and at the same time immensely humbled that you keep coming back to read my words.

Posted in Holidays & Musings & Random
(0) Comments

Do You Love Me?
November 21, 2006 | permalink

I'm sure you will find this a shocking revelation, Gentle Readers, but I have a thing for bears. I would go so far as to say that I feel a kinship with them, and I am always looking for books, films, and news stories that feature my dangerous but lovable brethren. I found the true story of Potapych, the Bear Who Loved Vodka yesterday on Neatorama.

Potapych, it seems, ended up being cared for by the drunkard Uncle Misha, who taught the bear to drink vodka. The two would get drunk together, often, and Potapych eventually became a public menace and was taken into the custody of the city zoo. The Pravda news article is here.

Darren Price made a short animated film about Potapych and Misha. It is simultaneously one of the cutest and most unsettling cartoons I have ever seen. The whimsical animation style is offset by the dark undertones of lonliness and despair in a way that is most definitely Russian. Dostoevsky would be proud. You should check it out: Potapych, the Bear Who Loved Vodka.

Posted in Random & The Internet
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Empire of Light
November 20, 2006 | permalink

Saturday I volunteered my services (well, mostly volunteered; there was also a promise of a bottle of scotch... but that was after I had already said yes) this weekend to help a young designer I know load in a show at a high school in New Jersey. They really wanted a New York designer, to try and make the show look more like a professional production instead of High School; but they have no idea what goes into a production on a professional level. What I do for a living, these people do as a hobby, and there is a large gap of standards between the two. So the support and resources were just not there, and the designer would have ended up being there 24/7 trying to get everything done. Rather than do that, she enlisted some help.

It was actually a lot of fun. One of the other people working with us is someone that I often have on my crew, and it was good to see him in another dynamic. I also haven't done the nuts and bolts work of hanging lights and running cable in a long time, and it was quite enjoyable to do some physical work, and kind of nice to not be in charge. I also got to drive the articulating boom lift, which, as you can imagine, is just about the coolest thing ever.

Totally unrelated, except that it happened this weekend, I went to the grocery store on Sunday. Which is completely unremarkable, except for the people in front of me in line to checkout. They were a young couple, clearly shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. Equally obvious was that neither of them new how to cook worth a damn. I know I am a bit of a food snob, but come on- mashed potato flakes, stuffing in a box, vegetables in a can, gravy in a can... the only thing these two bought that qualified as a raw ingredient was the turkey itself.

Poor bastards...

Posted in Around New York & Random & Working
(0) Comments

Mrrrow?
October 30, 2006 | permalink

Gentle Readers, I am laughing at my dear friend Smacktalk. You see, tomorrow, he is going to be on the Martha Stewart show, with his girl and their cat, in costume. The cat is going to be dressed up as Superman, and Smacktalk and his girl will be dressed as Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane, respectively. I know I shouldn't laugh; I just can't help it.

So, if you want to laugh along, check out the show tomorrow. It airs at 10am on NBC.

Posted in Random
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I'm So Glad I'm Not An Actor
October 19, 2006 | permalink

I took the picture over there on the left the other day just outside of the 59th Street A Train stop. It didn't come out so great; I was taking it on the fly, in secret. You see, I didn't want the poor bastard I was photographing to see me taking the picture, since I knew there was no way it wouldn't be obvious that I was laughing at him a little. For which I am sure I am going to hell. But the guy was dressed up like Count Chocula! I mean, what would you have done?

Posted in Random
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Monkey!! Knife!! Fight!!
October 4, 2006 | permalink

I read a really great (though surely awful at the time) embarrassing story over at blind cavefish this evening, and it inspired me to share one of my own. Unlike Jess' story, mine did not happen in public; but it is surely the kind of thing that you would think (or hope) only happens to people on sit-coms.

Anyway, it was my first winter in New York. Like most older places, the bathroom of the apartment I was living in had a steam pipe that ran through it to the floor above. The bathroom was also very small... and as I am about to relate, I was clearly not too bright.

So there I am, getting out of the shower on the first day that the heat was on in the building. I'm drying off, and as I bend over to dry my legs my naked ass comes into contact with the very hot steampipe. So of course I yelp and jerk away from it- only to smack the top of my head square into the side of the sink. Cut to me, sitting on the floor, rubbing my scalded ass and the growing knot on my head, feeling like a jackass.

Woo hoo!

Posted in Random
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One Night
September 29, 2006 | permalink

I'm making a conscious effort to a) make myself write, because doing is the only cure for being an unproductive slob, and b) write something light because I don't want to delve into the deep recesses of my brain today. So I am writing about beer, and people that I would like to have beer with. Because beer is good. So I present to you, Gentle Readers, a 5 x 5 list of people that I'd like to pass an evening of drinking beer with. I thought about explaining each choice, but in the end decided to let you draw your own conclusions.

Five (No Longer Living) Historical Figures I'd Like to Have Had a Beer With: Benjamin Franklin Genghis Kahn Nikolai Tesla Johnny Cash Chief Ten Bears (Shocking, right?)

Five (Currently Living) Historical Figures I'd Like to Have a Beer With: Stephen Hawking Bill Clinton Jackie Chan Willie Nelson Jacque Pepin

Five of my Fellow Writers That I'd Like to Have a Beer With: Jess at Blind Cavefish Josh at Osmium (with whom I have had many beers, truth be told; but I'd certainly like another!) Sarah Brown at Que Sera Sera The Old Bag at Indexed Richard at bloomfield.me.uk

Five Persons of Note That I Have Actually Had a Beer With: Matt Dillon Phillip Seymore Hoffman John Ortiz George Wolfe Bobby Cannavale (Yes, I know they are all in entertainment... what can I say? These are the kinds of people I deal with...)

Five People That I Never, Ever Would Want to Have a Beer With: George Bush Paris Hilton The Olsen Twins Rush Limbaugh Howard Stern

Posted in Musings & Random
(6) Comments

This Music is Wasted if We Don't Dance
August 28, 2006 | permalink

I love the rain- always have. I like the way it smells, I like the way it sounds, and I especially like the way the rain can transform a place, making it linto something new.

The most extreme example of this that I have ever seen personally is the city of Aberdeen, in Scotland. Like most medieval towns, it is built out of the most readily available material. In Aberdeen, this means slate. The whole old section of the city is built from the same grey slate, from the streets (crushed slate mixed with tar) to the sidewalks (huge slabs of slate) to the buildings (blocks or bricks of slate) to the rooftops (shingles of slate). Its kind of oppressive and dreary after a couple of days.

But after it rains, and the sun comes back out... Gentle Readers, it's breathtaking. The sunlight shines on the wet slate, and the shole city looks like it was fashioned from silver, like it's from some fairy tale or Arthurian legend. It's magnificent.

Posted in Around New York & Out of Town & Random & The Past
(1) Comments

She Loves Me... She Loves Me Not...
August 25, 2006 | permalink

I came across Antonio Riello's Ladies' Weapons via boingboing. He created them out of a desire to meld the Italian passions for fashion and violence, and each one is named after an important woman in his life.

I'm guessing, Gentle Readers, that his relationships are a wee bit tumultuous. Also, I know a couple of women who really need one of these things...

Posted in Random
(1) Comments

On Your Mark... Get Set... Go!
August 20, 2006 | permalink

Have you ever been involved in something that you didn't realize you were involved in until after the fact? It's kind of a funny feeling when you realize that there was this whole interaction going on that you were completely oblivious to. It happened to me the other day. I was, apparently, involved in a pee race. You read it right, Gentle Readers, I said a pee race. This is what happened:

I was on site, babysitting a photo shoot. There are about 10 studios in this place, so there 's a lounge, a cafe with a coffee bar, and lots of people. I went into the restroom, and no sooner do I start doing my thing than another gentleman takes the spot next to me. And the whole time, he's very... animated. Sort of bouncing up and down in place. I figured he was in a hurry, or ah, in distress.

Anyway, he finishes, zips up at what I would think was a hazardous pace, and then yells, 'done!' as he flushes, and then spun on his heel and walked out. 'Done!' like when you're competeing with someone. I was the only other person in there, so I guess he was competing with me. Peeing.

Maybe that's not what he was thinking, and I'm totally off base, but however you slice it, it was wierd.

Posted in Random
(3) Comments

I Laughed So Hard it Hurt
July 26, 2006 | permalink

I went to dinner with my sisters on Monday night. We're sitting there, drinking wine, having normal conversation when out of the blue The Rockette turns to The Star and says...

Wait- let me back up for a minute, Gentle Readers, and give you the backstory on this one. That way you will get the full effect of the way that sentence ends.

On Saturday I was at The Star's apartment, helping her sand and stain a table. The Rockette called while I was there, and she and I chatted on the phone for a while, making the plans for Monday's dinner in the process. She also mentioned that she and The Star and another of their friends were going to go and get Brazillian waxes- none of them had ever done it, they wanted to see what it was like, sorry if that's too much info for you brother, but there it is. I laughed, and didn't really give it another thought. Until:

I went to dinner with my sisters on Monday night. We're sitting there, drinking wine, having normal conversation when out of the blue The Rockette turns to The Star and says, 'Sister, how is your Mini Mr. Bigglesworth doing?' It took me a second to make the connection and get the joke, and then I almost peed myself I was laughing so hard.

Then, of course, I get the entire story- the stinging and the soreness, the sensory overload now that they were bald, the way their friend wept, the crazy old Russian lady who administered the waxing and how she commented to The Rockette that her weeping friend was a pansy, the pros and cons, and wheter or not they'd ever do it again- the whole deal. The other people in the restaurant were looking at us funny, we were laughing so hard.

As you can tell, my sisters are a hell of a lot of fun; but they don't have a lot of limits or barriers. And we were sober- you should see them when they get liquored up! It's a treat.

Posted in Family Matters & Random
(0) Comments

If I'd Known, I Would've Built an Ark
July 21, 2006 | permalink

I can't believe the thunderstorms today! I had to dash out to a client's house this afternoon to fix the programming in their lighting system that I had inadvertantly screwed up this morning (oops!) just as the skies opened up (again). I was soaked by the time I had walked the two blocks to the subway, even though I had a raincoat and hat. Inside the station, the water was pouring in- waterfalls down the steps, though the grates in the ceiling; rivers across the floor cascading down onto the tracks. I got a shot with my phone- the contrast is crappy, but I think you can see the extent of the flooding in the full-sized version.

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Subway Follies
July 17, 2006 | permalink

I've been working up in Connecticut the last few days, on an engagement party. Let me tell you, these people had it goin' on- their yard was bigger than the town my mother lives in, and some of the entertainment was flown in from another country. I don't know what they do for a living, but they are certainly doing well for themselves. I confess a wee bit of envy.

But that's not really what my story is about.

The other night, after our focus call, The Soon to be Former Boss drove me and the others back to Manhattan. He was continuing on to the lower east side, and so I got out at 57th and Lexington. It was a nice night, and I like a little wind down time before bed, so even though it was late (the party we were working on was in a big tent out in the backyard, and so we couldn't start the focus until it got dark), I decided to walk across town and then get a cab the rest of the way home from there.

As I was walking, I sort of fell into auto-pilot, and without really thinking about it went down into the Columbus Circle station. While I was making the long walk from the entrances on 57th to the turnstiles, I passed this woman on her way out- mid-twenties, good looking, in a green top. There wasn't really anyone else around, so she caught my eye; but I don't think I would have remembered her except for what happened next.

I went through the turnstile and got down to the A train platform before I remembered that it was after 1am and I was going to catch a cab the rest of the way home, as I had to get up early the next morning. Cursing myself for a fool, I walked North along the platform, figuring to exit at 60th. On my way up the stairs to the street, I passed the same woman that I had seen leaving the station through the 57th Street exit coming down the 60th Street stairs.

My first thought was, 'What the fuck? It's that same woman!' Which was quickly followed by the certainty that I must be imagining it. But, as soon as she saw me, the woman in green gave me a look that unmistakably said, 'What the fuck? It's that same guy!' So I figured it must really have been her.

Now, I know why I entered and then almost immediately exited the station in the middle of the night, but why was she exiting and then immediately re-entering the station in the middle of the night? And what are the chances that two such people would intersect like that? I'll tell you, Gentle Readers, it made my head spin. In that 'the universe is such a strange and random place' kind of way.

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Decorative and Delicious
June 14, 2006 | permalink

I saw this outside one of the shops in the Chelsea Market. I love stuff like this- the completely, insanely random things that people do for the sheer joy of it. I mean, someone obviously spent hours working on this- they even went so far as to put in the mountain ranges.

Fantastic. Truly fantastic.

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Maybe I Should Take the Bus More Often
June 2, 2006 | permalink

I got on the Bx7 earlier this evening, headed to the Target in Riverdale. I don't usually take the bus there, since I don't really live that far away; I'd have walked, except for the rain. Anyway:

Traffic was crappy, the bus was crawling along Broadway, and I was sitting there, minding my own business, going over my shopping list in my head. There was a woman, maybe 40, sitting next to me, chatting in Spanish with a friend. I couldn't be sure, since my Spanish is pretty rudimentary, but I got the distinct impression that they were talking about me. After a couple of definite gestures toward me, I decided that there was no doubt that the woman next to me was talking about me. I didn't really mind- I was more curious to know what she was saying than anything else.

At 207 her friend got off. After a couple of minutes, the woman next to me said something to a woman a few seats away, clearly gesturing at me as she did so. I looked over at her, and then away. Then she asked me if I spoke Spanish. No, I said. She laughed and said that that was a good thing. I started to laugh.

Then she turned to me and told me that it wasn't anything bad. She said that there was something about me, and I quote, that made her want to be close to me, put her arms around me. That's what she was telling her friend. She said she was on her way home (presumably to her husband) and that she couldn't believe she was having these thoughts, but there was just something about me. She said she told the second woman that she didn't know me, but she just wanted to embrace me.

I was blushing like a schoolboy, and I think she took pity on me, changing the subject by asking me if I was headed home. We chatted, just small talk, the rest of the way to 225th Street, where I go off. She took my hand as I got up and said it was very nice to meet me. I reciprocated, and left. I was walked away I glanced back over my shoulder to see her following me with her eyes. When she saw I had seen her, I got a wave and a big smile.

I've never experienced anything like that, never been so blatantly hit on. It still seems a little surreal to me, like something from a movie. I'm blushing just sitting here thinking about it.

Posted in Musings & Random & Women
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In Which Bunny Sitting Services are Offered
October 21, 2005 | permalink

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New York has a lot of wacky things to offer the observant observer; this we all know. Today I came across a real gem. I was having lunch at Mama Mexico on 102nd and Broadway (which, by the way, was awesome... they had a strolling Mariachi!) with some co-workers, when I spied, outside the window, an ad offering bunny sitting services to any that might be in need. What?!?

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Home?
June 25, 2005 | permalink

Do you think that you are tied to the geographic area of your birth in some indelible way? I have noticed that even though I still feel a bit uprooted and am definitely longing for my apartment in the city, I feel comforted in some way by the familiar geography. I know the names of these trees, and I recognize the scents in the air; I hiked and camped in these hills and valleys when I was a boy, and I know the birds, bugs, and animals that live here. Yet I have spent far more time in Charleston in the last ten years than I have in Upstate New York- I know more people in Charleston, and know my way around there better. And yet... this place comforts me, and Charleston does not. Strange, no?

Posted in Musings & Out of Town & Random
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Now, Really, Who Else Plays With Stuff Like This?
May 10, 2005 | permalink

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Sometimes, I really love my job. I get to play with equipment and materials that are mildly to moderately dangerous on a regular basis, and to use said equipment and materials for applications that they were never intended for. A tube of flammable paste!? How can you not be a little envious?

Posted in Out of Town & Random & Working
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Now You See Me...
May 4, 2005 | permalink

As I mentioned, I lost my glasses on the subway the other day. My eyesight really isn't that bad- I only really need the glasses because my eyes get tired if I spend a while on the computer, or in dim lighting, or looking at things up close. Which, being a master electrician for theatre, is practically all the time. So I wanted to get it taken care of as soon as possible. So Monday I went to the local equivalent of LensCrafters and had an exam and got them replaced.

The exam was one of the quickest I have ever had, and after I got the glasses I could see why. I don't know what went wrong or why, but it went