Sunday, July 23, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
it'll get done when it gets done...
I just heard Bloomberg's live press conference in Astoria Park and was none too thrilled with his demeanor. I know he's a monotone guy but the complete lack of urgency was extremely frustrating. To keep describing the situation as an "inconvenience" is incredibly insulting. For me, as a young guy with little (if any) persishable food in my fridge yeah its just an inconvenience. No lights no TV no internet, no AC. Whatever-I can crash with my folks for a few days untill it blows over.
But for small business ownwers this is not an inconvenience, this is survival. They may not be million-dollar companies like Bloomberg LLC but they are businesses and these mom and pop shops are critical to the city's economy and they're suffering incredible losses. Along Ditmars Blvd, there are delis, groceries, bakeries and restaurants that are dumping crazy inventory (rotting food). One store owner in the NY Times reported that they looked into renting generators but the rental companies were price gouging them like crazy. Where is Bloomberg's leadership on this predatory pricing? Giuliani, in what was a symbolic, but important, move in the hours after 9/11, repeatedly said on the radio that he had inspectors on the streets to make sure no one was taking advantage of the crisis to price gouge. Basically, he told us that there would be order, there was infrastucture and we weren't going to descend into chaos. It was a small detail but it helped keep all of us calm. Impressively, he had the presence of mind to think of that in the first hours after the planes hit. The power's been out here for days, using his power to keep generator rental rates managebale should be something our fucking MBA CEO mayor should have figured out by picking up the damn paper. It might be the difference between some businesses folding or not.
"It'll get done when it gets done."
Bloomberg said this several times. What the fuck? There is no timetable? I understand that this is hard to predict and by avoiding a deadline he's trying to manage our expectations but I would venture a guess that Mike Bloomberg did not become a billionaire by keeping managers in his company that told him "it'll get done when it gets done." He should be lighting a fire under ConEd's asses right now. This is a mayorlty extremely committed to customer service, data collection and performance measures but all of a sudden he's got kid gloves? Tell ConEd to come up with a best-case, worst-case and a few in-between cases for when this will get done so they have some kind of fucking deadline. Instead he's just given them a license to dither. Give them a deadline. Use their data, how many manholes, estimate time per manhole, c'mon you put up fucking 311, demand more from ConEd than this.
He says doesn't want to point fingers right now or be confrontational. Right. Someone in Bloomberg LLP confuses 2,000 grossly mis-served customers with 15-25,000 and I want to see how CEO Bloomberg responds.
I understand it taking time, power usage is high, the storms are crazy but the city's leaden response starting with the mayor has reached the point where its inexcuseable. Its too bad its his last term so we don't have the satisfaction of voting his ass out.
But for small business ownwers this is not an inconvenience, this is survival. They may not be million-dollar companies like Bloomberg LLC but they are businesses and these mom and pop shops are critical to the city's economy and they're suffering incredible losses. Along Ditmars Blvd, there are delis, groceries, bakeries and restaurants that are dumping crazy inventory (rotting food). One store owner in the NY Times reported that they looked into renting generators but the rental companies were price gouging them like crazy. Where is Bloomberg's leadership on this predatory pricing? Giuliani, in what was a symbolic, but important, move in the hours after 9/11, repeatedly said on the radio that he had inspectors on the streets to make sure no one was taking advantage of the crisis to price gouge. Basically, he told us that there would be order, there was infrastucture and we weren't going to descend into chaos. It was a small detail but it helped keep all of us calm. Impressively, he had the presence of mind to think of that in the first hours after the planes hit. The power's been out here for days, using his power to keep generator rental rates managebale should be something our fucking MBA CEO mayor should have figured out by picking up the damn paper. It might be the difference between some businesses folding or not.
"It'll get done when it gets done."
Bloomberg said this several times. What the fuck? There is no timetable? I understand that this is hard to predict and by avoiding a deadline he's trying to manage our expectations but I would venture a guess that Mike Bloomberg did not become a billionaire by keeping managers in his company that told him "it'll get done when it gets done." He should be lighting a fire under ConEd's asses right now. This is a mayorlty extremely committed to customer service, data collection and performance measures but all of a sudden he's got kid gloves? Tell ConEd to come up with a best-case, worst-case and a few in-between cases for when this will get done so they have some kind of fucking deadline. Instead he's just given them a license to dither. Give them a deadline. Use their data, how many manholes, estimate time per manhole, c'mon you put up fucking 311, demand more from ConEd than this.
He says doesn't want to point fingers right now or be confrontational. Right. Someone in Bloomberg LLP confuses 2,000 grossly mis-served customers with 15-25,000 and I want to see how CEO Bloomberg responds.
I understand it taking time, power usage is high, the storms are crazy but the city's leaden response starting with the mayor has reached the point where its inexcuseable. Its too bad its his last term so we don't have the satisfaction of voting his ass out.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Best of Friends
I went to the Noguchi Museum last Friday to check out Best of Friends, a show about the relationship between Buckminster Fuller and Isamu Noguchi, two incredibly brilliant people. The show wasn't that exciting. I think it may have just been kind of thin on quanitity of work and specifically work that really exemplified how they influenced each other. Maybe I wasn't paying attention but I also felt that the show focused heavily on how Fuller's obsession with geometry and physics influenced Noguchi's work but less how/if Fuller was influenced by Noguchi.
The thing that fascinated me the most was that apparently Noguchi had gone down to Mexico and made a giant mural typical of the revolutionary themes of the time, workers rights, opression by the government and the church. First of all, its fascinating to see Noguchi's paintings and to see how his painting style even when within a very specific genre and style of social(ist) revolutionary realism still echoes his sculpture as I saw in the angular features of this skeleton:
But secondly, it was a trip to see Noguchi associated with such a blatantly political piece. He had organized artists of Japanese descent during the internment and even entered an internment camp voluntarily (he was a NY resident) but the closest I am aware his work taking on an public bent was his public playgrounds. It was fascinating to see him wrestle with this political language.
The museum in general is a great place. Its inspiring (and disheartening) to see the life work of someone so brilliant. In an era when I feel like people are told to specialize here was a man who could do anything in art. Sculpt from life-check. Landscape architecture-check. Abstract sculpture-check. Amorphous forms ala Brancusi-check. You walk around and see how limitless his curiosity and talent were just by looking at his output.
You can't ever stop being interested in shit.
Friday, July 14, 2006
A Fistful of Ass
So while I have don’t have ass enough to hold my pants up, apparently our 6’5” techno-music star, queen gay IT consultant likes it. He was showing our office manager a book and I walked over to take a look at it and while I’m flipping through the pages, he says to her, “see, he’s got a nice ass” and fucking grabs my left ass cheek. The office manager eyes bugged out and she busted out laughing, I turned beet red and I tried to play it off but I know I looked visibily disturbed. I’m open-minded but I’m no Ozzie Guillen (I don’t go to Madonna concerts or WNBA games).
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Hoppin Styles...
I just hopped a turnstile. I'm 28 fucking years old! I have a masters degree! Come to think if it, its the first one I've ever hopped. I've gone under, I've snuck in the exit gates (back when you could just pull them open) but this is actually the first time I've up and vaulted one.
It was at the Canal Street Station. There are two sets of entrances, one towards the Q and N train and one towards the R and W. Only the N and W go towards my place and late at night the W doesn't run so I walked in the Q/N entrance. But I forgot that the N runs on the R/W track late at night at Canal Street until I saw the sign. Fuck. So I walk back towards the turnstiles I came in. There was probably some tunnel I could have taken to the R/W track but it would have taken forever and it have forced me to miss an N pulling in. Of course, as soon as I get in sight of the turnstile I hear a subway and its a fucking N so I start booking. The thing is, once I go out the turnstiles I came in I have to go back in through that other set to get to the RW track where I see the N pulling in. I had just swiped my Metro Card so I would have to wait 15 minutes to to use it again (I have an unlimited). The thought of having to sit an hour in the hot platform in my damp clothes (sweat and rain) for another train was so horrible that I decided to go for it. I ran full speed (for me) to the turnstile and in what I'm sure was a completely graceful maneuver, I placed my hands on the sides of the turnstiles, lifted my feet, ducked my head, swung over and through and ran into the subway car just as the car doors should have closed. But they didn't, they lingered open and I sat there nervously waiting to be thrown to the floor by a ganagload of plain clothes cops popping out of a revolving wall like in Hangin' With the Homeboys (great movie, "Pizarelli, thats an Italian name...") but nothing happened, the doors closed and the train pulled out. I made it. Except I banged the shit out of my knee when I was jumping over. Damn, I'm an old fucking man.
It was at the Canal Street Station. There are two sets of entrances, one towards the Q and N train and one towards the R and W. Only the N and W go towards my place and late at night the W doesn't run so I walked in the Q/N entrance. But I forgot that the N runs on the R/W track late at night at Canal Street until I saw the sign. Fuck. So I walk back towards the turnstiles I came in. There was probably some tunnel I could have taken to the R/W track but it would have taken forever and it have forced me to miss an N pulling in. Of course, as soon as I get in sight of the turnstile I hear a subway and its a fucking N so I start booking. The thing is, once I go out the turnstiles I came in I have to go back in through that other set to get to the RW track where I see the N pulling in. I had just swiped my Metro Card so I would have to wait 15 minutes to to use it again (I have an unlimited). The thought of having to sit an hour in the hot platform in my damp clothes (sweat and rain) for another train was so horrible that I decided to go for it. I ran full speed (for me) to the turnstile and in what I'm sure was a completely graceful maneuver, I placed my hands on the sides of the turnstiles, lifted my feet, ducked my head, swung over and through and ran into the subway car just as the car doors should have closed. But they didn't, they lingered open and I sat there nervously waiting to be thrown to the floor by a ganagload of plain clothes cops popping out of a revolving wall like in Hangin' With the Homeboys (great movie, "Pizarelli, thats an Italian name...") but nothing happened, the doors closed and the train pulled out. I made it. Except I banged the shit out of my knee when I was jumping over. Damn, I'm an old fucking man.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Assless Chicken...
“You know, I made a mistake, you actually do have an ass.”
So said Axel when he saw me in the tightest pants I’ve ever had to wear. I actually don’t have an ass but these pants were so tight that they must have manipulated my flesh enough to create the illusion that I had some back. I had lost my salsa costume on the subway (no, not the manitard) right before a show and had to run around frantically to find a pair. I ended up buying these tight-assed pants from Urban Outfitters that kind of flared out at the bottom-Maria said they gave me male camel toe. The girls collectively winced when they saw me walk into rehearsal and more so when I did the half split in warm-up. It wasn’t pretty.
I’ve actually narrowed down my lack of an ass as the source of many physical problems I experience. Of all my physical flaws, I think my asslessness might be the one that bugs me the most.
Case in point, my lack of an ass means that my pants have nothing to hang off of and are constantly slipping down. Now, this was okay back in the day when I was rocking the jailhouse sagging-pants-off-my-ass wannabe-thug look but I’m a little old for that now. I actually need my pants to stay up semi-respectfully. But because I have no ass I have to tighten my belt a lot more than another person would have to because I don’t have that physical “hook” to help hold my pants up. All I got is my belt. So what happens when your belt is too tight? Well, one it hurts like a mother especially by the middle of the day as your waist expands (my Mom says you’re always the lightest in the morning). So while I might be three holes from the belt tip at the start of the day, my stomach will start to get achy because of food in my stomach and my overly tight belt and I’ll loosen to two holes. But when I loosen my belt, my pants start to fall down and I start stepping on my jeans (which gets to my other physical flaw: short-assed legs). So while two holes is enough to give my stomach some relief and postpone a major case of indigestion and a nasty bathroom bomb, it also means I’m grabbing at my pants and hitching those shits up all day. In an hour, my stomach will start to feel better and I’ll be sick of grabbing at my jeans and stepping on my cuffs so I’ll get cocky and re-tighten back to three holes (“I got this…“). So while I can walk freely for a little bit, like clockwork, my stomach will start to get achy again in thirty minutes and I’ll feel my the food in my stomach curdling and the gas welling up again. That’s when I’ll start calculating where I am in the city with what I know to be the nearest, cleanest, accessible toilet. I’ll tough it out until I have to loosen my pants again and this horrible cycle will continue back and forth until the end of the day. You might say, what’s the big difference between the second hold and the third hole? Shouldn’t one or the other be ok? Or even just drilling a hole right in between? Here’s my theory, those people blessed with even semi-decent asses don’t have to calculate as scientifically whether their pants are too tight or too loose because their asses shoulder a significant amount of the pant-bearing load whereas mine is AWOL. Because I have no ass, I’m trapped in a constant war between too-tight or too-loose pants, there will never be a “just-right” adjustment no matter how many holes I drill in my plants or how carefully my pants are tailored because my ass is not helping the cause at all. For years I wondered why my stomach hurt so much and why I couldn’t keep my pants up and now, I think I understand. Its liberating.
Next time, the ass, salsa, squatting and quad muscles….
So said Axel when he saw me in the tightest pants I’ve ever had to wear. I actually don’t have an ass but these pants were so tight that they must have manipulated my flesh enough to create the illusion that I had some back. I had lost my salsa costume on the subway (no, not the manitard) right before a show and had to run around frantically to find a pair. I ended up buying these tight-assed pants from Urban Outfitters that kind of flared out at the bottom-Maria said they gave me male camel toe. The girls collectively winced when they saw me walk into rehearsal and more so when I did the half split in warm-up. It wasn’t pretty.
I’ve actually narrowed down my lack of an ass as the source of many physical problems I experience. Of all my physical flaws, I think my asslessness might be the one that bugs me the most.
Case in point, my lack of an ass means that my pants have nothing to hang off of and are constantly slipping down. Now, this was okay back in the day when I was rocking the jailhouse sagging-pants-off-my-ass wannabe-thug look but I’m a little old for that now. I actually need my pants to stay up semi-respectfully. But because I have no ass I have to tighten my belt a lot more than another person would have to because I don’t have that physical “hook” to help hold my pants up. All I got is my belt. So what happens when your belt is too tight? Well, one it hurts like a mother especially by the middle of the day as your waist expands (my Mom says you’re always the lightest in the morning). So while I might be three holes from the belt tip at the start of the day, my stomach will start to get achy because of food in my stomach and my overly tight belt and I’ll loosen to two holes. But when I loosen my belt, my pants start to fall down and I start stepping on my jeans (which gets to my other physical flaw: short-assed legs). So while two holes is enough to give my stomach some relief and postpone a major case of indigestion and a nasty bathroom bomb, it also means I’m grabbing at my pants and hitching those shits up all day. In an hour, my stomach will start to feel better and I’ll be sick of grabbing at my jeans and stepping on my cuffs so I’ll get cocky and re-tighten back to three holes (“I got this…“). So while I can walk freely for a little bit, like clockwork, my stomach will start to get achy again in thirty minutes and I’ll feel my the food in my stomach curdling and the gas welling up again. That’s when I’ll start calculating where I am in the city with what I know to be the nearest, cleanest, accessible toilet. I’ll tough it out until I have to loosen my pants again and this horrible cycle will continue back and forth until the end of the day. You might say, what’s the big difference between the second hold and the third hole? Shouldn’t one or the other be ok? Or even just drilling a hole right in between? Here’s my theory, those people blessed with even semi-decent asses don’t have to calculate as scientifically whether their pants are too tight or too loose because their asses shoulder a significant amount of the pant-bearing load whereas mine is AWOL. Because I have no ass, I’m trapped in a constant war between too-tight or too-loose pants, there will never be a “just-right” adjustment no matter how many holes I drill in my plants or how carefully my pants are tailored because my ass is not helping the cause at all. For years I wondered why my stomach hurt so much and why I couldn’t keep my pants up and now, I think I understand. Its liberating.
Next time, the ass, salsa, squatting and quad muscles….
Faster than a speeding bullet...
I ran the Bronx Half Marathon last Sunday. I trained for it, but not as diligently as I would have liked. It was a really nice course, challenging, but nice. Nicer than the Brooklyn Half Marathon because it seemed to have a variety of sights, Brooklyn felt like a whole lot of Ocean Parkway but the Bronx route took us through a real diversity of neighborhoods (my PC way of saying we had to run through the ‘hood: “...what are all these white people in tights running outside my house for?”). The toughest stretch was Grand Concourse, because it was a long straight shot in the open sun and pretty hilly, but I was pretty happy with my time and proud of myself for finishing and finishing strong.
Well at least pretty proud until I looked up my results searching by my last name:
How's that for perspective?
Well at least pretty proud until I looked up my results searching by my last name:
How's that for perspective?
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Spectator
We were in the middle of rehearsal when we noticed a bird sitting on the window sill, watching us dance. It wasn't a pigeon and it didn't get scared when we pointed at it. It sat there for almost an hour watching us, looking to see who was talking and shifting its gaze to whoever spoke. It was pretty spooky, it kind of had the 'I don't give a fuck' attitude of a New York City rat.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Nostalgia for the nineties...
Who the hell did we draft with the 20th pick?Mars Blackman?
Rolando Blackman?
Ronaldinho?
Ronaldo?
How about:
Rolnaldinhol Blakinman?
I can't say this guys name with a fucking straight face. The name alone is enough, its worse that we might have passed on a potential franchise point guard for him. Oh well, bring it on Zeke.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Further proof that the NY Post kills brain cells
I guess its possible that the AP wrote this headline:
AP WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. — Rush Limbaugh will not face state criminal charges for the bottle of Viagra found in his luggage that appeared to have been prescribed to someone else.
LIMBAUGH CASE GOES LIMP
Monday, July 03, 2006
The Free Rider
It’s gotten so hot I’ve taken to walking around the local supermarket to cool off. The produce section is great, especially if they’re spraying water on the fruits and vegetables, then you get the cold air combined with the moisture particles in the air and it feels so refreshing. The dairy section is also pretty good because of the refrigeration but not as good as produce. The first few times I did this I really tried to look like I was shopping, looking intently at prices and the quality of pears, broccoli, lettuce and rutabagas; I pulled the different cheeses off the shelf and compared ingredients and prices. After about 20 minutes of cooling down err… shopping…I would leave. Now I just don’t care and I wonder if the Trade Fair employees are beginning to suspect that I’m stealing their AC when this big sweaty Asian guy is wandering the aisles not even looking at food. I guess it’s a public good so I’m not really reducing someone else’s enjoyment of air conditioning or increasing their costs of providing it (though as hot and sweaty I get…).
The first few times I did this I would sneak back out the entrance but the thing is they’re those motion-sensitive supermarket doors and to get back out you have to hover at the door and wait for someone to come in then rush out which is pretty embarrassing. The other option is to go out the register and just walk by the cashiers buying nothing, which is also pretty humiliating. Though I’ve noticed the far aisle is usually unmanned and if Trade Fair is crowded that I can duck out that aisle without anyone noticing. Of the two that seems like the less embarrassing option.
Or I guess I should just get an air conditioner for my room.
The first few times I did this I would sneak back out the entrance but the thing is they’re those motion-sensitive supermarket doors and to get back out you have to hover at the door and wait for someone to come in then rush out which is pretty embarrassing. The other option is to go out the register and just walk by the cashiers buying nothing, which is also pretty humiliating. Though I’ve noticed the far aisle is usually unmanned and if Trade Fair is crowded that I can duck out that aisle without anyone noticing. Of the two that seems like the less embarrassing option.
Or I guess I should just get an air conditioner for my room.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
In case you didn't see the lighthouse.
Tried to do the tip-to-tip walk of Manhattan, we didn't make it but it was fun. Saw some cool stuff that I didn't know was in the city. This was a pretty interesting structure-I think it was around the 150s....
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