Handbill Handout

Back in elementary school and through junior high we were required to put book covers on our hardcover textbooks. This was the late 1970s and early 1980s when New York City was slowly emerging from a fiscal crisis so the schools had very little money and couldn ’t afford to replace many books. So we used older textbooks that we were required to protect from damage by use of a paper or laminated book cover. This requirement immediately divided kids into three types: those who bought book covers, those who used supermarket bags and those who ignored the rule. I suspect you could tell the future of any given kid by what category he or she fell into. Let’s take the rule breakers for example. Those kids who just didn ’t bother with the book covers. They probably wound up becoming criminals of one kind or another. I bet if they came from a family with a bit of money they probably wound up engaging in bank fraud or some other kind of white collar shenanigans (the Enron crew NEVER put

Work occupied my mind. Here, go read something about someone who could really write if you're so inclined.

God bless Lee's Tavern pizza for taking the edge off of being back in NYC. It's an analgesic by the slice. Though it's always good to be in my house with my wife and cat it's a sign that return to work is around the corner. And so here I am. Goodbye elegant jazz brunch at Commander's Palace. Hello street cart bagel and coffee. Then again, I may be banned for life from Commander's. Yes friends, we had a little, um, incident there. It all started innocently enough. There are balloons tied to a centerpiece on each table for the brunch service. I decided it might be funny if someone took a picture of me with the balloon obscuring my head. You know, a jacket and dress shirt topped by a balloon head could be an amusing new "Who is" photo for this blog. Well anyway, nobody took the hint so I kept playing with the thing. Then my mother-in-law started doing the same thing with another balloon (there were three on the centerpiece). Imagine our surp

They say you learn something new every day. We learned something new yesterday that was a tough lesson to take. You can, in fact, get a crummy meal in New Orleans. I won't go into the details nor will I mention the place's name to protect the innocent and the guilty even though to me providing food and service as careless as what we experienced in a city where food may be the most important cultural element after music is an insult to one's community. I will say that my wife is a genius who saved the evening with quick thinking. "Let's just go and see if that guy in the alley is still playing" she said referring to a small courtyard right off Bourbon street where there's a cafe that sells coffee and beignets along with (of course) a bar. The previous night an act called Steamboat Willie had played and my mother in law had enjoyed the small part of the show that we saw. Thank God he was still there last night and the evening was saved as we got a table, gr

The words came out of the radio (old fashioned Frequency Modulation , not fancy satellite) as I lay in bed making a plan for the day. If you didn't know where you were because you smacked around too many brain cells the night before, that phrase would be the giveaway. What other city would be so absorbed by a jazz festival? What other city has a radio station devoted to "its sound"? I imagine you could create a radio station with the sounds of New York, but how long would you listen to sirens and car horns? "I visited New York City once, right before 9/11. Man everything was so fast up there. Everyone in a hurry." That was my cab driver's assessment of New York. "I know, that's what I'm trying to get away from." I said, thinking of the relentless river of humanity marching to and from the glass cages that line 6 th avenue. I remember reading that during the 1960s when some of those buildings went up people said they had no soul. I

"Right now we're driving over the levee that broke." The traffic was crawling toward downtown on I-10 and I had started to zone out from a combination of heat, lack of sleep and back to back two hour flights. Still, a statement like that will wake you right up. "You see that rust line over there?" the cabbie said pointing at a pipe on the noise barriers that lined the road "That's how high the water was all the way downtown". The line was at least six feet above the ground. "Wow" "Yeah....but we're comin ' back now. We doin ' good. We had a record crowd here for Mardi Gras . The people are startin ' to come back" New Orleans feels different this year. Last year it still felt like a city victimized. The crowds in the French Quarter weren't what they were when I had been here before Katrina. It seemed like boarded up or shuttered store fronts equaled or outnumbered operating businesses. There was an

I was pleasantly surprised this morning when I put on the news and heard several reporters and anchors doing stories about Nerf Day. It’s good to see the Nerf toy brand finally getting the recognition it deserves. I’m old enough to remember the original Nerf toy which was the Nerf basketball that came out in oh, probably about the early 1970’s. It was basketball you could play indoors with a hoop that could be easily hung on the back of a bedroom door. The genius advertising behind the ball was that you could throw it around indoors without breaking furniture, lamps, the dog etc. Of course what they left out is the damage a tightly contested game of one on one might do as kids themselves collided with furniture, lamps and the dog. The next innovation was the Nerf football. This was the perfect toy for an elementary school kid in the 1970s since our generation was being schooled in the hippie-dippy, feel-good “everyone is special” and “anyone can do anything” manner that has led

Here in New York City, many of us are completely reliant on the hard work of others to get to and from our own jobs. This is a commuting city and unless you live close enough to your place of work to walk to and from it part if not all of your commute is most likely via some form of public transit. If you commute from an “outer borough” to Manhattan, you may be a frequent user of the so-called express bus. I say “so called “because many days it doesn ’t feel very “express” at all as one sits in traffic surrounded by fellow sufferers. However the buses are much nicer and more comfortable than the local buses used for intra -borough travel. Not to mention twice as expensive. When you ride the bus part of how your work day is going to start or end is entirely dictated by the approach of your driver to his craft. Years of commuting have revealed to me a few of the forms your drives can take. “ Beepy McSwerver ” – While Beepy will often give you a motion-sickness inducing ride, I enjoy ta

A great article in the NY Times. Thanks to the Mrs. for bringing it to my attention.

Bocek vs. Danzig Round 1 Huh, I wondered whatever happened to Danzig. Oh wait, this is a different guy, not the metal dude. Buffer gets cheap heat by speaking French. I'm drowning my sorrows in a nice 2005 Barbera after the Habs lost. At least the pernil came out great. Nice wrestling early. Crowd seems smart enough to appreciate it. Uh oh, Danzig getting pounded but pops out of it BTW someone tell Dana White he's gonna have to get hotter ring girls to compete with the ladies in Montreal Crowd is chanting for a guy from Ontario. Guess all Canadians are babyfaces tonight The match has slowed down, but my wine is delightfully acidic and has a thick, warming mouthfeel. Oh crap I just realized that I have about 2 beers in the fridge. Gonna have to run to the corner before the main event Danzig comes back late. Scoring will be close Round 2 Big knee by Danzig but Bocek recovers. Gonna go get beer after this fight. Bocek is in deep doo doo. Danzig passing the guard eaisly and poundin

Ahhhh . This is more like it. Though it is still one of those days where you walk around your house and there's still those odd pockets of cold air. They float around like memories of the winter just passed but if you keep moving and they dissipate making the previous season seem more dreamlike and unreal. Windows are opened and warm currents drift in pushing those cold air ghosts into corners, into closets with coats and boots and chilled memories. My cat is stretched across the mat in front of the back door warming herself in the young April sun. Lawn mowers are thrumming for the first time. Bring it. The season also opens up more free time that had been filled with winter activities (mostly curling). So naturally I tend to fill it with what I do best: eating. Thursday night we had a fine dinner at Enoteca Maria , a teriffic addition to the Staten Island restaurant scene. The concept there is that they employ a handful of women from various parts of Italy and a different woman

I have yet to find who the author of this gem is, so let's just call him "anonymous". I'm sure some of you have seen this before; some sources say it dates back to WW II. It's a perfect statement of mood for a person trapped in a godforsaken windowless office staring at a computer screen for nine hours on days like as nice as the last two. And now, without further ado: As I awoke this morning When all sweet things are born A robin perched on my windowsill To greet the coming dawn He sang his song so sweetly And paused for a moment's lull I gently raised the window And crushed his (stupid) skull Lovely, isn't it? Have a nice weekend everyone.

This is very, very funny. "The independent Northern League K.C. T-Bones have scheduled a Michael Vick "Welcome to the Neighborhood" promotion for their May 28 home game against the Gary Southshore RailCats, in recognition of Vick serving his 23-month sentence in nearby Leavenworth. The RailCats will wear orange jumpsuit tops, and the T-Bones will wear black-and-white prison stripe unis. The jerseys will be auctioned to benefit local animal shelters ( K.C. STAR, 4/16 )." I wonder if any Ron Mexico jerseys will be made for the occasion.

I remember seeing this old boat as a kid and wondering if the ferry had somehow got lost. My parents used to tell me “no, they’re going to open a restaurant on it any time now”. Guess not. It’s a shame what happens to those old boats especially given that the three new ones (called “gondolas” by some local pundits as a salute to the perceived Italian-American “connections” between local politicos and the firms that built the ferries) are so unreliable and prone to breakdowns. Meanwhile, the last boat from the class produced in the mid ‘60s that was supposed to be retired a few years ago still keeps puttering along on fill-in runs The ride is smoother more comfortable to boot. Another classic example of “they don’t build ‘em like they used to” even though they tried. The 1980s model ferries (also called the “tin cans” because they’re prone to loud rattling while underway, particularly on the lowest deck) looked nothing like the 1960’s Kennedy class. They had no space for vehicles,

Today’s chapter, wherein our narrator becomes a hack stand-up comedian to note the 50 th anniversary of his youngest sister’s birth which means our hero is now the only one of his parents' children not qualified for AARP Insert your own rim shots “Thanks very much ladies and gentlemen. I just drove down from New York and boy are my wheels tired. Hey, how about this New Jersey huh? Boy, you sure pay a lot of tolls here doncha ? Why I just went out to the car and I had to hand the neighbor’s kid a quarter to come back in the backyard. Man I gotta tell you, I don’t wanna say my siblings are old, but I was going through some old family pictures, well, daguerreotypes anyway and there was one of the four of them as kids, see, and they’re down at city hall in Manhattan. It looked like it was a warm day in the late Pleistocene, the mammoths hadn ’t been through town in a while and there was one before the one from city hall that showed off the new wall to wall carpeting my parents had jus

I have four pig trotters in my freezer. Well, I had four. One's in a pot right now so that leaves three. How did I get pig trotters? Last weekend was the curling club's season-ending pig roast and I was one of the people assigned to pick up the pig from the butcher. When we arrived she was ready to go and I noticed that the trotters were still sitting on the side of the table. I asked the butcher if he was going to use them and he said no, so I scored four free pig trotters! What the hell do you do with them? Well I've had the trotters with foie gras at Montreal's amazing Au Pied De Cochon but I wasn't doing that. Don't have the skills or the resources. So, my wife consulted the good old web and got some recipes. I also consulted Fergus Henderson's "Nose To Tail Eating" but the recipes involved a bit of butchering and since my meat fabricating skills are nonexistent I opted for simpler approaches. Today I tried what seemed to be the

This post got some reaction from folks (unfortunately only one of which was actually posted in the comment section). So, I figured it was a topic worth revisiting, especially on a Friday when I’m too wiped out to write any kind of other story. A word of warning however: In the words of the great Jean Shepherd “The following program is in very bad taste. Then again, life itself is often in very bad taste”. There are many, many men here at the office that enjoy a good read when they are in a bathroom stall. So much so that newspapers and magazines used to litter the floor by midday. The office manager came up with the elegant solution of installing those plastic, wall mounted mail bins (kinda like these but in black plastic and not wood) in each stall so people could just leave their reading material there instead of all over the floor. Of course, some people do leave their reading material on the floor, which brings up the first poll question: how many of you would pick up a news

Right here . Those guys do great work on that blog. Language NSFW, you've been warned

It’s really bright and sunny in New York today. So bright and sunny that I can’t help but be distracted by rememberences of glorious and not-so-glorious happenings of summers past. Today’s little fable will be one of those not so glorious stories co-starring yours truly and the late, great, Captain Kaos . Consider yourself warned: there is severe alcohol abuse coupled with some graphic digestive distress described in the below paragraphs. If you’re eating, squeamish or a Prohibitionist, I suggest you go look at this now instead. Back in our college days we didn’t get to hang out much since Pete had gone away to school and I stayed in NYC. So when he came home for break or for the summer some fairly serious partying would somtimes ensue. Back then you could still drink peacefully at the beaches at night provided you didn’t make too much noise or disturb nearby residences. One fateful evening we packed up a cooler with Bud tall boys (it was what we could afford) and a thermos full

For those of you who might be a bit bored with the last few everyday real-life type posts, here’s a nice little diversion into the land of unreality. This will be a discussion of my favorite circus dating back to when I had very little bread. Yes, the Stanley Cup playoffs are here, and I know you’re all wondering “hey, what does that guy who writes about garbage cans and social anxiety disorder think about that?” Well, I’m glad you asked Mr. Voice In My Head. ‘Cause I’m gonna tell you: Montreal over Boston in 5 games : The B’s will finally win a game vs. the Habs this year, but Montreal has too much speed and the better goaltender. Youppi dances right on into the second round Washington over Philadelphia in 5 games : The Caps are on an amazing roll aided by the gift of Huet from the Habs at the trading deadline. The legend of Alex Ovechkin growing into the Russian Messier should begin to grow here. If I’m wrong, Philly has a shot. I don’t think I’m wrong. New Jersey over New York in 7

Don't be confused, the content (and lack of quality) of this blog isn't changing. The title just seemed out of season. The original title along with my strange dalliance with a frustrating game that I play poorly will return sometime when the days grow short. Thanks for the continuing comments and support.

There’s a really long hallway around the corner from my office that leads to the bathrooms. There’s nothing in it but an exit to the freight elevators and then the exit to the passenger elevators right before you get to the bathrooms. The far end leads to another cube farm. It’s always awkward when I turn the corner and someone’s coming from the other end because how close to you get before you say “Hi” or “Good morning” or whatever? I always hope they’ll turn off into the bathroom or the lobby but once they pass those doors coming this way it’s almost too late to do anything but nod. Elevators are another danger zone. I used to hate that feeling you get when you have to have a conversation with someone and it peters out sometime before you where you’re going. I feel barely qualified to talk about even the weather with people I work with because you never know what the right answers are. Is it too hot for them? Too cold? I don’t really care much, but I know I’ ve gotten into t

About a week ago we suffered a severe windstorm that took our beloved brown plastic garbage can from us. That can came with the house when we purchased it back in 2002 and had served us loyally ever since. It's a fine can made out of that tough kind of plastic or rubber that withstands the hardest throws of the NYC sanitation crew not to mention numerous collisions with our cars as we back into our driveway. During the middle of the week we had another windstorm that led to the depositing of a green garbage can with wheels on it (but no lid) right in front of our house. I noticed it when I left for work in the morning but figured its owner would pick it up. When I returned in the evening I saw that a car had knocked it over onto the sidewalk in front of our house. Well, I figured, the wind giveth and the wind taketh away. I dragged the can down our driveway to the spot where our old brown can had silently sat lo these past five plus years. It was a nice can, reminds me of

Remember how this works? If not, check here . And look out for the spoilers (you knew that already though, right?) -1 beard dude is definitely on dope, right? 1 they get to "touch each other"? Dear God, where is the Top Chef Lesbian -Cam (sponsored by Howard Stern on Sirius Satellite)? Then again, maybe not. Other contestants whine about missing family. I've said this before: you've seen the show, right? 4 A veg plate. They better do a pop up video thing explaining brunoise , batonet , chiffonade ...... 5 How do you think they decide who gets to yell out the time remaining? 6 How many hats did Spike pack for this show, exactly? 7 Dale tourneed a frickin ' avocado? Wow. Blais does the little piles of food and scores. Huh. I guess Rocco is nowhere in sight this week. 10 Dale wins. Staten Island girl is one of the bottom 3. 12 What, you both haven't seen Mad Max? Commercial break: Flyers lose, playoff hopes in jeopardy. In the words of Nels

Last night I went to see The Eels. Eels are actually Mark Everett and a rotating cast of other musicians depending on how Mark (also known as E) wants to present his music on any given tour. They’ve been a rock band with a turntablist, an “orchestra” with a full horn section, a string quartet, a four piece rock band and a 3 piece punk band in prior incarnations. This tour, Eels are a duo consisting of E and “The Chet”, who is a “multi-instrumentalist” as they like to say. Between the two of them there’s guitar, drums, saw, and a few different keyboard instruments. E’s songs are happy little ditties about mental illness, suicide, serial killers, freaks and birds. So you can see how he has universal appeal and are as surprised as I am that he’s only had one big radio hit in the US and that was 12 years ago. How was the show? Fantastic, of course. But this isn’t a concert review post, no sir. Because there’s another part to E’s story that is not on your average “Rock Star” resu

Happy April Fool's Day everyone. Remember you can't believe everything you read on the Internets.

Friends: Today I come to you a changed man. Today, I announce that I am devoting what remains of my physical life to the Master Meher Baba . As an adherent, I will take a vow of silence and not speak again for the rest of my time on earth. This blog will be my only means of communication. Please respect my wishes and communicate with me only through the comments section of this blog. I know this is a shock to many of you, but I have come to the conclusion that only through a pure spiritual existence will I reach true happiness and spiritual equilibrium. I encourage each of you to look inside your souls and discover your own lighthouse path to enlightenment.