Decay, Rattle & Hum

MTA Transit Museum

2008-06-07T18:51:00.005-05:00

What? I heard it was good exercise...

(Note - The subway cars are fully accessible and open to the public; and certainly, no museum exhibits were damaged during filming.)

Eddie's Nightclub

2008-05-06T12:18:00.007-05:00

Unlike the BBC, I can't even claim that Rob Sherwood DJ'd there...

Dominica

2007-06-09T22:46:00.000-05:00

The diving in Dominica was great; actually saw a couple types of fish that I had never seen before. There are 350 rivers, many waterfalls, hot springs, freshwater lakes and views of the Atlantic and Caribbean from high in the rain forest. It was simply the lushest, least populated place that I have ever visited. There were giant ferns (the type that you see depicted in natural history museums towering over the dinosaurs.

We hiked to Victoria Falls, a two hour round trip hike crossing/wading a white water river 5 times. I've been trying to coin the term "white-water hiking" to describe our adventure but while it seems to inspire amusement, I have yet to hear anyone else use the term. The day we were there the rains had been heavy and the river was rushing and swollen. We had to use a rope to make the first crossing to avoid being swept downstream; the rest of the crossings were easier - we were able to get by with just a human chain. Everyone was bruised after the hike and quite a few were actually bleeding.

After we finished the Victoria Falls hike, a camouflage-wearing Rasta named Moses, who has a farm near the trail head, made us lunch. We ate a vegetarian stew from gourd shell bowls and used spoons made from coconut shells.

There is another 6 hour hike through the "Valley of Desolation" that I would have loved to have gone but it would have meant losing an extra day of diving so we wouldn't get the bends from being at a high altitude soon after diving.

The most brilliant thing about Dominica is the total absence of large all-inclusive resorts. There are only small hotels and guest houses. It was a blast. One of my all time favorite vacations, due in no little part to my vacation companions, the Semrads.

Despite my expression, I actually like this old photo. The outfit, not so much. Funny, I really don't remember shopping at Value City.

2007-05-29T22:38:00.000-05:00

American Cannibal

2007-03-17T00:02:00.000-05:00

I just got home from seeing the independent film American Cannibal at Cinema Village on E. 12th St. between University and Fifth Avenue.

The movie is a thoroughly entertaining and absolutely hilarious documentary about reality TV, trading one's ideals for employment and the American obsession with fame.

Check out the trailer and then check out the movie.

More eavesdropping on the 2/3

2007-03-02T00:38:00.000-05:00

Today, on the 3 train I heard some guy say, "SOBRO - what's that shit? Calling the South Bronx, SOBRO... How queer. I guess the City doesn't want anyone to know that it's still the Bronx."

Two Great Bakeries in Astoria, Queens

2007-02-21T21:23:00.000-05:00

Sadly... neither seem to have a web site.

The first is "Le Petit Prince" at 33-09 Broadway in Astoria, Queens (near 33rd on Broadway; 718-777-3040). The quaint shopfront drew me in (OK, maybe sentimental connotations related its name were also at play) but once in... I didn't see any of my favorite desserts in the cases. The selection was great - - - madeleines, macaroons, napoleans, eclaires, etc; I just have simple tastes - - - vanilla cupcakes, plain cheesecake, etc. Well, not a lot more etcetera but you get the point. However, the desserts were too pretty (and I love dessert in spite of my simple, anti-chocolate preferences) to walk out without buying one. So... I randomly chose some pistachio pear dome mousse thing decorated with a handmade white chocolate star and a spun sugar ladder. I don't know exactly what it was but it tasted phenominal! I will make the two train trip back out to try their other selections.

I was able to indulge my more purist bakery inclinations at Parisi Bros. Bakery located at 30-17 Broadway (the corner of 31st and Broadway under the N/W tracks; 718-728-5282) in Astoria, Queens. I smelled the bakery a block before I saw it. The Italian bread had a perfect crusty exterior and a light but chewy interior. The sugar cookies that I bought were also excellent. The extra that I purchased and took into the office disappeared in seconds. Parisi also had a great selection of other breads, biscotti and other traditional Italian cookies. I still hope to find a good Italian bakery closer to my home in Park Slope but all my future visits to Astoria will definitely include a stop at Parisi's.

Overheard on the 3 train on Ash Wednesday

2007-02-21T20:54:00.000-05:00

A female American passenger, presumably in an attempt to be a good "tour guide," was explaining to her male companion with a British accent why some of the other people on the train had crosses marked in ash on their foreheads. As accurately as I can remember, she said, "Catholics get palms on Palm Sunday and hang them upside down in their houses. On Ash Wednesday, which is today, they burn them and use the ashes to make those Xs on their heads. Some other religions do it too but Catholics more so; because of all the idolatry." She then immediately segued into telling him about a club in Manhattan where "everybody sits in old wine barrels."

Patagonia's New Spokesmodel

2007-02-10T13:20:00.000-05:00

Thomas Midgley's Legacy

2007-01-30T18:43:00.000-05:00

Thomas Midgley developed both tetraethyl lead (aka ethyl, a lead additive used in gasoline) and chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs). Admittedly, although well aware of the dangers of lead poisoning and the threat that CFCs posed to our ozone layer, I had never heard of Thomas Midgley until I read Bill Bryson's "A Short History of Nearly Everything." Well, I guess if you're responsible for two of the biggest environmental calamities of our time, you really don't brag about it.

Pout gives no reason to pout

2006-12-10T00:35:00.000-05:00

I have problems with mascara. I've tried dozens of products but they all seem to leave smudges under my eyes. Unless, I use waterproof and then I end up losing some lashes when I remove it or with Blink's "Kiss Me" (a chemical engineering marvel that's worth trying) by 1 AM, it's flaking and getting in my contacts.

I had plans after work one night last week and admittedly, I wanted to look pretty so I made a lunchtime run to Sephora for some basic supplies. While checking for a travel-size blush from Pout, I asked the brand rep for a mascara suggestion and told her about my smudging problem. She recommended Pout's "Black Eyes." I was skeptical because it had a really skinny wand but she was smudge-free; so, I bought one.

It's been a happy, smudgeless week and it didn't even run with all the watering that my eyes were doing this week due to the wind and cold. I think I'm finally ready to practice some brand loyalty with my mascara.

Little help please...

2006-12-01T20:35:00.000-05:00

Spoon, Led Zeppelin, Seal, Black Flag, Rolling Stones, White Zombie, Alice in Chains, Cypress Hill, Dead Kennedys, Smashing Pumpkins, Eagles, Cars, Lemonheads, B52s, Garbage, Bee Gees, Matchbox 20, Great White, White Snake, Eels, Gorillaz, Pixies, Madonna, Twisted Sister (?), Scissor Sisters, Guns 'n Roses, Beach Boys, Police, Cowboy Junkies, U2, Nine Inch Nails, the Cult, Black Crowes, Ratt, Blur, Hole, Dinosaur Jr, Blind Melon, Sex Pistols, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Radiohead, Rusted Root, Iron Maiden, Queen, Prince, Fifty Cent.. Please fill me in on any others I missed. Are the guys in suits supposed to be the Blues Brothers? It doesn't seem to fit... Clicking on the photo should open a new window with a larger version of the pic.

A friend sent me the jpeg; so, I don't know if this part of a contest or just an ad for Virgin Records.

Apres Ski for the Office? Good grief...

2006-11-27T19:47:00.000-05:00

I've always thought of New Yorkers as fashionable. Not as fashionable as Parisians but as close as we are going to get in America. I generally viewed what passes for fashion in Los Angeles as what happens when people with little taste and a lot of money influence too many people with no sense of self or personal style...

After living in New York, I either need to revamp my opinions or blame Jet Blue for spreading LA fashion-think like a bird flu pandemic.

This summer there were day-glo rubber gardening clogs all over the sidewalks. I saw men, women, children and medical professionals (in white ones) wearing them everywhere. Evidently, they're not just for gardening anymore.

Now, it's fall and I'm seeing women downtown wearing designer apres ski boots with their business suits. In the office... not as a warm, comfortable alternative to wear to get to and from the office!

I'm no footwear fashionista. I'll readily admit to owning some decidedly un-chic chaussures. But... I can at least match a style of footwear to a type of outfit. LA, hate to break it to you, but Ugg boots just don't go with a bikini on the beach. And New York, gardening clogs (if you must) belong in the garden and apres ski boots belong at the lodge.

A Farewell To Wheels

2006-11-26T15:03:00.000-05:00

My most important possession has always been my car. A car has always meant independence, control, escape... If you take away my ability to come and go as I please, I get a little panicky (and as a result... a bit querulous).

Last Friday with my car lease nearing its term, I surrendered my Jetta. My 2003, 5-speed, 1.8 Turbo with heated seats and a stereo system that finally made me understand the value of a good system. It was a beautiful car. It was really the first car that I ever had that was what I wanted, not just what I could afford or what was sensible.

I'm really glad that I took the time for a drive up the PCH to San Francisco while I was in California. The Jetta was made for those kinds of curves... It was pretty good on the straight-a-ways, too.

I'm won't be getting another car because having one in New York has just been a hassle and an expense. I really don't need a car in Brooklyn. I'm a little sad but I haven't felt particularly panicky, yet. Cabs, public transportation, walking... I still have independance, control and a means of escape. However, I do wish that I at least had an old car key to use as sort of a security blanket during this adjustment period...

So... thanks Volkswagen, for four great years and 44,206 fabulous miles. And, thanks to Liz Klopper-Watson at Ganley Westside Imports in North Olmsted, Ohio for leasing me the car. Liz made the selecting and leasing of the vehicle a 100% pain-free experience. And lastly, thanks to Peter at Kings Volkswagen for accepting my car in spite of NY/NJ Volkswagen dealers having no obligation to accept lease returns due to space considerations and in spite of it being a stick-shift (evidently, not a popular feature in Brooklyn).

A Church Is Not An Appropriate Place To Walk A Dog!

2006-11-16T19:47:00.000-05:00

I was headed back to the office after picking up lunch yesterday when I saw a frowsy blonde standing on the sidewalk yammering away on her cell phone while her dog was wandering around inside the John Street Church. The dog hadn't gotten loose; it was on a leash... albeit a long one. And, it was a Methodist Church (evidently, the first in the country) so I'm positive there wasn't a pet blessing in progress for St. Francis of Assisi's or anyone else's feast day.

I may not be the biggest fan of organized religion but come on! It was perhaps one of the stupidest and most inconsiderate acts I have ever witnessed. I'm glad she had already dragged the dog out by the time I was close enough to yell at her. I'm wondering if perhaps the dog hadn't wandered into the church in the first place because it didn't want to be seen in public with that woman.

Confessions of a Late Adopter

2006-11-13T20:32:00.000-05:00

I received an iPod Shuffle for Christmas last year. It sat in the box for a while because I was disappointed that I couldn't return it and upgrade to a Nano.

A few months ago, I finally dumped a bunch of songs onto it. I wasn't terribly enamored. I mostly appreciated its value as a prop for pretending not to hear street people telling me to accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior.

Then a couple weeks ago, I was stuck in the house for a few days and I got bored and started playing around with iTunes. I put together a few playlists.

It was like a mixed-tape from a friend but better... When I downloaded one onto the Shuffle, my life suddenly had a soundtrack!

My favorite playlist has a theme but it's not synchronized by beats per minute, musical genre or favorite songs - necessarily. It only contains songs that inspire a corporeal reaction. There's Paranoid (live with Randy Rhodes), Faith No More's We Care a Lot and Mountain Song by Jane's Addiction. I literally have to force myself to not toss my hair around - - - kind of a jerky Tourettes-ish almost-figure-eight head bang for Ozzie; a head down left and right swing for Faith No More and Jane's Addiction screams for that full back and forth arc that when done properly sets long hair revolving in a full circle. There's Patience by Guns N' Roses, Postcards from Paradise by Flesh for LuLu, Just Like Heaven by the Cure and Dreaming by Blondie that inspire vocalization, or at the very least a little lip-synch. Faith by George Michael, Goody Two Shoes by Adam Ant and I Want Candy by Bow Wow Wow make me need to dance (and I did when I found myself alone in the elevator earlier). I'm quite certain I look like I have a neurological disorder particularly when Ballroom Blitz or She's Crafty are playing...

I'm now totally obsessed with finding MP3s of Tin Tin's Kiss Me and the theme song from the Courtship of Eddie's Father to add to that playlist.

I was pretending to be a DJ for my second favorite playlist and actually paid attention to the beats per minute. It's mostly French and Brazilian lounge but I managed to work in some Prince, Spoon and April March. April March's Chick Habit to be specific; the transition is practically a work of art...

I've developed a warm fondness for the Shuffle; I'd probably hurt myself flailing about with anything larger. Maybe this Christmas, I'll catch up with another trend and ask for a Playstation. I was always a big fan of NHL Hockey...

Post Election Day Hangover

2006-11-11T19:07:00.000-05:00

Last Tuesday was my first time in a voting booth since I left Cleveland. I wasn't able to vote in CA due to timing issues and when I registered in New York, I did so without entering a party affiliation.

In Cleveland, because of my job, I always knew almost everyone on the ballot. Or at the very least, I knew one person in each race. It made voting pretty easy. I never had to make much of an effort to learn about the issues or a candidate's record, I had to deal with them everyday in the office.

Voting in NYC was a revelation into just how hard it can be to become an informed voter. I have a more than healthy skepticism for the content in campaign commercials/literature, endorsements and media articles... another by-product of my chosen profession. So, I ended up only voting in a few races. What's more disconcerting is that I'm not exactly certain how to ensure that my next trip to the polls will be any better.

The 9 of Clubs (what Dryck warmly refers to as my "degenerate past")

2006-11-08T21:04:00.000-05:00

I don't know if my late teens and 20s were any more special than anyone else's. It felt like a special time - the people, the places, the music... I'm sure people the world over feel the same way. How else can you explain why "Hotel California" still gets so much airplay?

However, what was truly special about my late teens and 20s was the community that was born on the dance floors at the 9 of Clubs, Aquilon and throughout Cleveland's alternative scene in the 80s and 90s.

What's unparalleled is how that community still exists across time and miles. I'm referring to how Lena acted as my personal "Welcome Wagon" when I moved to California; I had no clue Lena (whose last name I never even knew during our club days) had been living there for the last 10 years until I ran into her at a party my first weekend in LA. Or, how Julie Webber told me to pass along her contact info to Josh Lauber when I told her that he had moved to Texas, despite Julie not even knowing Josh. Or, how Lee Mars and Colin Miles (who I don't think I ever even met in Cleveland) helped me plan my job hunt when I bailed on California and headed east. Or, how when Dawn Phillips passed away last Thanksgiving, word radiated out across the country and many of us travelled back to Cleveland for the funeral. I'll be forever grateful that I had a friend from those days, Jason Merhaut, to fly with back to Cleveland. Or, how Berni Veider and Michael Nigro invited me (and a lot of other familiar faces from back in the day) to their holiday party in Brooklyn last year, despite my having lost contact with Berni well over a decade ago. I think that's a bit uncommon for acquaintances made in a bar years previously...

For those of you who have sadly lost contact with that community or who just feel like doing a little reminiscing, Richard Brown started a web site dedicated to those years at the 9 of Clubs. Check out the site and be sure to send him your old pictures.

Also, I just learned that there is a 9 of Clubs myspace profile. I don't know who created the profile but interestingly, I found a photo that I took posted to the site.

Subway Flashers

2006-10-04T21:16:00.000-05:00

Contrary to local media reports, the biggest offenders of NYC public decency laws on the subway are NOT the random guys caught with their johnsons out by concerned citizens with camera phones. They're women! Ladies... be a little more mindful of the blouses under your business suits and learn to keep your knees together or buy longer skirts. Please, remember the perspective of those standing when you're sitting, as well as those seated across from you. Someone may want to look at all that but it ain't me.

Next Stop: NYC

2006-09-14T06:30:00.000-05:00

Next Stop: NYC - Suddenly, everyone wants to be a tourist.

Pick your Next Stop at www.nyc.gov/nextstop

Starbucks: When did it become a sin to achieve the American dream?

2006-09-08T20:49:00.000-05:00

Why does everyone seem to have something bad to say about Starbucks? If you don't like national coffee chains in your neighborhood, don't buy their products.

Starbucks began as a single coffee shop in Seattle, WA near Pike Place Market. I've been to the original location. It's probably no bigger than 500 square feet.

Starbucks became the company it is today by providing a product that people liked and sound business planning. Little guy makes good... isn't that the American dream? So, why when a business is successful, do we start hating it?

Unlike many independent coffee shops, Starbucks offers tuition reimbursement, management training and health care benefits; they also support independent farmers, hire locally and pay what most communities consider a living wage. Starbucks has also shown a willingness to open in urban locations shunned by most national retailers. Are these attributes really such attrocities?

I like Starbucks. I used to mail order whole coffee beans before the company expanded and I used to love having a layover at BWI because one of the first Starbucks east of the Mississippi was located in the main concourse.

At work, I drink Starbucks because its the best coffee available close to my office; at home, I walk the extra couple blocks to Gorilla Coffee, because it's actually better and I don't have to wait in line behind someone ordering a half-caff, skinny, caramel, venti soy latte. Actually, for a supposed "category killer," the Starbucks in my neighborhood doesn't seem to doing so well competing against the independents.

So, remember boys and girls... work hard, reinvest your profits, treat your employees better than the next guy and the unions will try to organize your workforce, the hipsters and aging hippies will protest your presence and if you're really good, you'll even manage alienate your original customer base.

Tony and Tonya... my favorite couple

2006-09-07T21:02:00.000-05:00

It was a great visit. Friday, they came over to my apartment for a glass of wine and I got to show off my neighborhood. Then we had dinner at Noodle Pudding and admired the view of Manhattan from Brooklyn Hts.

On Saturday, we got drenched going to MOMA, dined at the Modern, talked our way into a closed private art gallery, got drenched again and dried out over dessert and coffee at a French cafe on Madison Ave.

On Sunday, we kept up our tradition of brunch at Essex on the Lower East Side. Then a couple of brief and somewhat unintended driving tours of Chelsea and Williamsburg and it was time (all too soon) to take them to LGA for their flight home.

Words...

2006-08-24T17:32:00.000-05:00

In two and a half weeks, my friend Amy will finally be coming for a visit. We've been trying to schedule a visit ever since I left Ohio in 2004. I miss Amy.

I'm very lucky to have a lot of good friends. But not all of them share my rather abstract interests. Different faiths, economics, law, string theory, literature, etymology... I'm frequently overtaken by random whims of rabid curiosity. Amy shares my interest in literature and words. She understands my fascination with words that have fallen out of the common vernacular or words that are just plain fun to say. Inevitably, if Amy and I are out drinking, we will start demanding that the people around us tell us their favorite words. Our demands have only ever been met by either confusion, amusement or enthusiasm. Amazingly, no one has ever told us to f*ck off, despite how we tend to disparage those who choose lame or cheesy words.

So, my plans for Amy's stay include a visit to the Algonquin Hotel. Sure, we'll be ordering alcohol from the bar not sneaking nips out of flasks but we'll be channelling Dorothy Parker and the rest of the Vicious Circle just the same. If you see us, remember, words likes love, hope and peace are "bad" but words like funicular, persnickety, niggling, dunderhead, fallacious, balderdash, supercilious and the like are "good."

The Quizmasters would not be thwarted by my closing my MySpace account

2006-08-20T14:16:00.000-05:00

I received an odd email this weekend; it had a near frantic quality to it. It read, "What happened to your myspace account?" "Did I say something to piss you off?" "Why are you no longer on my friends list?" "Do this quiz!"

In order: I cancelled my MySpace account about 7 months ago. My canceling the account had nothing to do with you; I just lost interest so when I had to list all my email addresses and web pages for an employment background check, I just decided to close the account. I'm no longer on your friends list because I closed my account. I'll do the quiz because it's about books but don't take it as any encouragement to start emailing me quizzes with questions about who I've made out with and upon whom I currently have a crush.

What are your favorite books?

1. One book that changed your life:
"The Paragon" by John Knowles; it's a little weak in the rereading but it was very important to me in high school

2. One book that you've read more than once:
"The Drifters" by James A. Michener

3. One book you'd read in one day:
Lots. I read when I fly to distract me from the fact that I'm 30,000 miles off the ground

4. One book that made you laugh:
"Indecision" by Benjamin Kunkel

5. One book that made you cry [or feel really sad]:
"Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi and "Five Past Midnight in Bhopal" by Dominique Lapierre and Javier Moro

6. One book that you wish you had written:
"Franny and Zooey" by JD Salinger

7. One book that you wish had never been written:
"The Informers" by Bret Easton Ellis

8. Author's career you most admire:
Saul Bellow

9. Author's life you most admire:
Martha Gellhorn (except for all the affairs with married men)

10. Which is the most overrated literary classic:
"Finnegans Wake" by James Joyce

11. The last book you finished reading:
On the subway - "Memories of my Melancholy Whores" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
At home - "Lord Vishnu's Love Handles" by Will Clarke

12. One book you're currently reading:
"Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn" by Caroline Moorehead

13. Books you've been meaning to read:
"A Thousand Suns" by Dominique Lapierre and "Special Topics in Calamity Physics" by Marisha Pessl

14. Books you recommend to friends:
Nonfiction - "All the Shah's Men" by Stephen Kinzer
Fiction - "The Sparrow" by Mary Doria Russell

15. Best book recommendation someone recently gave you:
PJ, a summer intern at my office, recommended I read "Time and Again" by Jack Finney, when we were on a tour of the Bronx and I said that I wish I could have seen New York during the 20s, 40s and 60s

16. Literary character you would most like to have as a friend:
Salinger's Glass children or Phineas, aka "Finny," from "A Separate Peace" by John Knowles

17. Last book you received as a gift:
My friend Amy sent me "Freakonomics" by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner and "Tokyo Cancelled" by Rana Dasgupta for my last birthday

18. Last book you gave as a gift:
"Blowback: The Costs and Consequences of American Empire" by Chalmers Johnson

19. Last book someone read to you:
I remember my friend Steven reading me an article out of The Economist but I don't remember anyone reading to me from a book

20. Now tag five people:
Don't need to, I'm posting it to my blog instead

I want to trust you but you've lied to me before...

2006-08-19T12:06:00.000-05:00

I once had an about-to-be-boyfriend mislead me about his political affiliation. That was back when my politics were a bit irrationally black and white. So, I really couldn't begrudge him thinking he was improving his odds with that slight misdirection.

I'm generally not that forgiving about dishonesty. Usually, one lie is enough to queer the deal; enough to destroy the trust so sufficiently as to undermine the whole relationship.

I've been feeling that way lately about our federal government. This morning I read an Associated Press article about a claim by President Chavez that four American spies were found operating in Venezuela and that the CIA is actively working to destabilize his government. US government officials denied these claims and I wish I could say that I believed them. But, history encourages my disbelief. Government officials have made these same denials in Iran, Chile and Cuba only to later have the statements exposed as lies, wrapped in claims of national security and tied with a communist threat bow. George Washington foretold this future in his farewell address when he cautioned Americans to "avoid the necessity of those overgrown military establishments, which under any form are inauspicious to liberty, and which are to be regarded as particularly hostile to republican liberty."

I'm not one of those people who pounds their chest and claims deceit when government doesn't advertise the minutia of its decision-making. I happen to agree with our Founding Fathers about the value of a representative democracy and I don't think that sunshine laws should apply to everything, all the time. But, it seems to me, that our System of Checks and Balances is grossly off-kilter.

The administration withholds information from the legislators because the legislators will call a press conference and release confidential information to the media to build the name recognition they need to get reelected. The publicly-traded media outlets will in turn sensationalize the stories to increase ratings and attract advertising dollars resulting in a populous whipped into an underinformed frenzy. The populous will then vote good elected officials out and bad proposals in, depending on the spin of the story. When a bad proposal becomes a law, some attorney will challenge its constitutionality before a Supreme Court where the judges were once nominees who were subjected to endless investigations and inappropriate questions about their personal beliefs and private family decisions, instead of simply having their past rulings scrutinized for evidence that personal beliefs, not letter of the law, had influenced case outcomes.

Things have blatantly gone astray. James Madison was clearly right to be concerned about the future of the republic. I really don't think term limits help. They insult the few voters that actually bother to educate themselves, plus they perpetuate a system wherein a candidate must always be campaigning and therefore always pandering to the media, special interest groups and big checkbooks. I don't know how to fix things and I don't think that there are any quick fixes. Higher offices can no easier be achieved by the unconnected, unobligated or unwealthy than an industrial art student with a good design can roll thousands of new cars off an assembly line and into showrooms across America.

Even more important than policy changes, is a society change. Our society is showing all the signs of a decay. We believe we are entitled to everything and responsible for nothing. So, let's begin by taking more responsibility in the voting booth. Voting is a privilege; educate yourselves so you are worthy of it.

I always suspected that techno was bad for me...

2006-08-18T07:50:00.000-05:00

I have a morning routine. I get out of bed, stumble to the kitchen for a glass of water and then sit down at my computer and check my email and the weather report. The Weather Channel is linked to my MyYahoo! home page, as are a few newspapers, Yahoo Maps, Movie Showtimes and yes, my Daily Horoscope.

If I have the time before I need to leave for work, I'll check out the news headlines. Today, I had the time and the headline "Researchers link music tastes to HIV risks," caught my attention. I have an acute fear/respect for AIDS likely due to losing a friend, a coworker at my first job, to the disease back when I was still in high school. Therefore, in spite of the wacky headline, I was going to take the time to read it.

The article opens with the sentance, "US boys hooked on gospel, techno and pop are more at risk of HIV infection than devotees of other musical styles, including "bling, bling" hip hop, according to a new study." I found it odd that Michel Comte, a reporter out of the AFP office in Toronto, decided to aggregate gospel with techno and pop but what the hell... I'd already started reading the story.

Evidently, Miguel Munoz-Laboy, a researcher at Columbia University, has isolated supporting evidence that musical taste provides clues to rates of HIV infection. The researchers interviewed boys aged 16 to 21 about their listening tastes and attitudes toward condom use and sexual activities. According to the article, the study focussed on three neighborhoods in New York City. At present, New York City has the highest AIDS case rate in the country, with more AIDS cases than Los Angeles, San Francisco, Miami and Washington DC combined. In fact, HIV is the 3rd leading cause of death in those below the age of 65.

The study by no means implied that listening to certain types of music causes HIV infection but it did clearly illuminate links between genres and risk factors. "We often blame youth for their behavior without understanding it," Munoz-Laboy said. "(But) there is a complex story about sexuality, masculinity and culture here." The behavioral analysis divided participants into two musical groups: hip hop, reggae, rap and rhythm and blues; and rock, heavy metal, pop, techno, electronic and gospel. Munoz-Laboy conceded that, "Kids would be appalled that we grouped them this way but this is how they mapped out in the mathematical analysis."

The researchers found that young men who listened to hip hop music were more likely to have vaginal intercourse and have more partners; but, boys with strong church ties or who were active in New York club scenes took the most sexual risks. "Boys who listened to hip hop had more sex and more partners, but it did not impact condom use," said Munoz-Laboy. Comparatively, "those who are part of religious culture or the club scene used condoms inconsistently."

Take that, George Bush and all the other hymn-slinging, abstinence-only advocates. Give the kids in the choir some damn condoms!

Now, on to the public service announcement portion of this blog post.

If you are sexually active, get yourself tested not only for HIV but for other common, yet sometimes symptomless, sexually-transmitted diseases like Hepatitis C. Free and confidential STD testing is offered in New York City, along with most other cities across the country. You really do owe it to yourself and to your partners to get tested.

Moreover, unless you are in a relationship AND you are 100% positive that you are both healthy and sexually monogamous, use condoms. Yeah, I know... most condoms suck. They are thick, smell and the manufacturers generally take a one-size-fits-all approach to the male anatomy. However, if you extend your search beyond the drugstore, you'll find condoms with greater sensitivity, no smell and in styles and sizes to fit everyone plus... with equal or higher rates of effectiveness.

Mike Wallace, I expected better from you...

2006-08-13T23:37:00.000-05:00

Mr. Wallace, you went to Iran as a cultural representative of the United States. You don't have to agree with him but if you can't treat the Iranian President with a little respect, why should the Iranian people have any expectation that the US would treat them respectfully... would have any inclination to honor their culture and beliefs? Really, what reason do Iranians have to believe that anything has changed since the CIA took the lead role in the overthrow of the democratically-elected Mossadegh administration and the subsequent installation of a dictatorship under the Shah? Certainly, not our active support of Saddam Hussein in his war against Iran.

Is it because you are now "retired" that you think it's OK to be snide and condescending when you interview elected officials from other countries? And, what's with all the ancillary bitching about scheduling issues? Elected officials do work; has your notoriety so gone to your head that you believe an interview with you is more important than running a country? Things actually do come up...

If you missed 60 Minutes last night, follow the "Link" below and be sure to play the video. It's edited but they couldn't quite edit out all of Wallace's attitude.

Terrified by John Updike's new novel "Terrorist"

2006-08-12T20:57:00.000-05:00

Like "Close to Shore" by Mike Capuzzo and the Jersey Shore and "the Informers" by Brett Easton Ellis and Los Angeles, "Terrorist" can scare the heck out of the reader (well, me at least) when read in the wrong locale. And, because fiction can often provide illumination in a way that fact cannot, living in America particularly NYC got a little scarier after reading this novel.

Ahmad, Updike's protagonist, is the teenage son of a poor, freethinking Irish-American mother and an absent Egyptian father. Perhaps in rebellion against his mother, a misguided means of connecting with the father who abandoned him or just in want of someplace he could belong, Ahmad turns to Islam. Unbeknownst to him and his mother, the mosque that he joins has terrorist connections. For seven years, Ahmad may have questioned the depth of his imam's faith and his interpretations of the Qur'an but he never suspected that the imam had ties to terrorism.

The imam sets the stage for Ahmad's seduction into terrorism by spinning verses from the Qur'an into reasonable sounding arguments. Although Ahmad's school counselor feels that he is a good candidate for college, the imam convinces him that an American university education will jeopardize his faith. Knowing what he does of college life, Ahmad believes him and follows the imam's suggestion to get a commercial driver's license (CDL) and pursue a career as a truck driver. Ahmad's mother doesn't have the money to pay for college tuition; so, she doesn't attempt to dissuade her son from his plans. Once Ahmad gets his CDL, he is offered a summer job delivering furniture for one of the imam's connections. The camaraderie Ahmad feels with his new coworkers, after years of feeling isolated, completes the seduction and leads him right into a starring role in a plot to blowup the Lincoln Tunnel.

If Ahmad's character had been born African-American, we wouldn't be shocked if he joined a gang. We wouldn't be shocked if then as a gang member, Ahmad went on to engage in activities that resulted in the destruction of property (graffiti, arson, collateral damage from gun fire, neighborhood disinvestment resulting from fear of the criminal element, etc.) and the loss of life (gang wars, drug deaths, innocent victims caught in the crossfire, etc.) we might be outraged or saddened but not shocked.

However, we are shocked when we read in the news about American citizens funding or joining terrorist organizations. But, is it really so shocking? I think the same underlying environmental and psychological causes that can attract an individual to a gang or cult would likely make them susceptible to joining a terrorist organization.

I also think that there are, here in America and obviously elsewhere throughout the world, sincere supporters of change in the Middle East... the true believers. After all, Irish-Americans funded Irish Republican Army (IRA) activities for decades. It's even an open secret that Irish-American elected officials used to host fundraisers in major American cities to help the IRA buy weapons. I'll concede that there is a difference between Irish terrorists firing guns in Northern Ireland and setting off bombs in England not in New York, but innocent civilians still lost their lives. Nevertheless, my point is that Americans, generations removed from Ireland and its conflicts, still identified enough with the IRA's cause to help pay for it.

It's not any literary technique to build suspense that makes "Terrorist" so frightening. It's the elucidation that the person in line behind you at the grocery store or next to you in traffic in the Lincoln Tunnel could be a terrorist and that you would have no way of knowing.

What's the F*cking Deal?

2006-08-10T21:20:00.000-05:00

Is this some sort of wacky masturbation technique? I'm referring to a man sitting in a chair with his feet on the floor about six inches apart, vigorously flapping his knees back and forth (slapping his thighs together?).

Why in the midst of a business meeting would someone engage in such bizarre behavior? Why did I schedule the meeting in my office where there is no conference table to hide the show? I've noticed a few men doing this over the years out in public but I've never seen a woman perform the seated "funky-chicken."

Men appear to be most comfortable seated with their knees apart. I assume that it is due to a couple of the physical differences between men and women. Therefore, I reason that this action of moving the knees back and forth, quickly and repeatedly, must create some sort of motion, friction, something... marginally pleasurable.

If someone's "package" just needs to be repositioned for comfort purposes, wouldn't it be more effective (and far less distracting) to stand, smooth out one's slacks (not a euphemism) and then sit back down?

I find the behavior very disturbing. In a meeting, it's about as bad as the person standing up and flapping his arms. On the outside chance that my conclusion is flawed, I at least hope that the perpetrators of this behavior will start to worry that others will think that something untoward is going on and stop the enthusiastic public knee-knocking.

Parallels in History: You do the math...

2006-08-09T21:09:00.000-05:00

1. In 1773, a financially insolvent but politically influential East India Company appealed to the British Parliament for assistance. It received a monopoly on tea exports to the colonies; an act that precipitated the American Revolution.

2. Popular thinking has it that “evil” governments get overthrown. However it is weak governments such as the English presence in America in the 1770s, not tyrannical ones, that are more likely to be toppled.

3. In the American Revolution, the British had to fight a war across an ocean, on unfamiliar terrain, against an enemy whose concerns were not truly understood and who could be a friend in public and a foe behind their back. Yet England pressed on, confident that the Americans could not stand up to British moral and military superiority and fearful that a loss would trigger a “domino effect."

4. After the French and Indian War, England decided to station an army of about 10,000 soldiers in North America to safeguard the colonies and "manage" the Indians. This generated tremendous resentment. Americans feared the soldiers would abuse the populous and the army undermine their liberty.

5. In various American cities there were "riots," which included the Boston Massacre and the Boston Tea Party.

6. In 1765, a multi-class alliance of American merchants, intellectuals and workers organized the Sons of Liberty to coordinate resistance.

7. During the American Revolution, there were American propagandists who wrote pamphlets to further the cause of Independence. The most prolific of those writers was Thomas Paine.

8. Both the English and the Americans provided incentives to secure the affiliations of regional peoples and leaders. The Native American tribes that depended most heavily upon colonial trade tended to side with the revolutionaries.

9. England considered American revolutionaries insurgents and criminals.

Were there Americans, as well as those from other nations, that sought to exploit the political upheaval for their own profit or fringe ideology? Sure... but sometimes revolutionaries are just revolutionaries.

"Those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it." - George Santayana

Getting introspective "West of Jesus: Surfing, Science and the Origins of Belief"

2006-08-06T21:47:00.000-05:00

I first met Steven Kotler in the late 80s. I had asked our mutual friend Wahru to introduce us and I still remember a few bits and pieces of our first conversation. In spite of being in a loud and crowded nightclub, we ended up discussing quantum physics, Taoism, Alan Watts and I believe, Fugazi... I was intellectually enamored and a bit relieved to learn that someone else shared my somewhat eclectic interests.

One of the things that has always impressed me about Steven is his ability to achieve the goals that he sets for himself. Beyond "Surfing, Science and the Origins of Belief," setting and achieving personal goals is the current that propels "West of Jesus" through its point breaks and eddies.

Disillusioned by modern medicine after a lengthy and debilitating battle with Lyme disease, Steven found himself searching for a reason to live... He finds a reason in a rather unexpected place for a still fragile, born and bred Midwesterner - surfing. However, the journalist and skeptic in Steven can't just accept the new raison d'être at face value. So, he consigns himself over to curiosity, reserves a spot on the quest and proceeds to rack up frequent flyer miles in search of the holy "why."

Early sections of the book contain some of the most precise and insightful sentences that I have ever read. The very first paragraph ends, "...because the stories I told myself had begun to fail;" a realization that has its roots in not only in Steven's personal life but in the politics of creation and Joan Didian's "White Album." The first chapter ends with, "I can say that at the time that I went to Mexico I was thirty-six years old and the things that I was choosing not to do were starting to add up into a whole other life that I was choosing not to live." At the time I read them, those sentences synthesized for me aspects of my own life. Although, I could not have expressed them so succinctly. And, if you'll indulge me just one more quote, "I am now thirty-eight years old and often find a direct and peculiar conflict between my personal mythology and the real world."

The book is a well-crafted, free-associating combination of thirty-something coming of age story, adventure travelogue, forensic history, myth study and scientific inquiry. The book is well... a lot like a conversation with a good friend. One of those conversations where you don't even realize that you've been awake all night talking until you notice the sun coming up.

To purchase the book through Powell's Books, click on the word "link" below. You can buy it through Amazon but I prefer to support Powell's; an independent book store based in Portland, OR and I think, one of the happiest places on earth. My luggage is always 50 lbs heavier whenever I return from a trip to Portland.

Link to a nearly accurate, animated representation of my time in CA

2006-08-05T20:26:00.000-05:00

Being a Bitch-Hermit - Queerest of the Queer

No eBay... I just resold all the books, which I was continuously purchasing due to the poor local library system, at Acres of Books.

If you must shop Key Foods in Park Slope, stick to the household products...

2006-08-05T07:56:00.000-05:00

The Key Foods on 7th Ave. at Carroll Street has some of the slowest, most unhelpful, unknowledgeable retail clerks with math skills that could make anyone, not only inclined to support overhauling the US educational system but willing to stand in line at Key Foods to pay for it. My latest bitch about Key Foods is that I think that it transferred stock from Queens locations affected by the blackout to the 7th Ave. store. Stock, that is, that had already sat unrefrigerated in the sweltering NYC summer heat. I've long suspected that keeping expired food on the shelves is a key component of Key's profit model; so, I always pay particular attention to expiration dates when time of day and convenience draws me to its disorganized aisles. Anyway...

Two nights ago, I purchased a tub of Horizon low-fat sour cream with a mid-September expiration date. When I got home and opened it, I found a vigorous penicillin colony glowing all green and fuzzy inside. It was 11 PM and I doubted the staff's capacity to process a return. So, the sour cream, which only Alexander Flemming could want, went into the trash and the trash went out to the bin.

Key Foods? Caveat Emptor...

Brooklyn Artist-Illustrator Vanissa Chan

2006-08-04T23:52:00.000-05:00

I was hoping to buy some student art to fill the bare areas on the walls of my new apartment. While doing an online search, Vanissa's site caught my attention because she had Cleveland artist Derek Hess listed as one of her interests.

My favorite products of Vanissa's contain the "James got Drunk" graphic. Who among us does not know a few James and Jamesettes? I have the shirt and I bought my friend Amy the tote bag.

If you're the one with the drunk dialing affliction; good news, S. Korean cell phone manufacturer LG will soon be releasing the LP4100 in the US. Users will be able to set up the phone; so, on certain nights and after a certain hour with a certain blood alcohol level of .08, they will not be able to call certain people in their phone book... think ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend.

Vanissa's products can be purchased online. Just click on the word "link" below to start shopping...

For the phone, because Safari doesn't support Mac users inserting in-text hyperlinks and I don't feel like making the effort to do it manually, just Google "LG LP4100."

God bless necessity and people who stick smelly things in their mouths for otherwise we would not have cheese

2006-07-22T10:23:00.000-05:00

Le Delice De Bourgogne... the label said "A French triple-cream cheese that is less salty than most. Similar in flavour to Brillat-Savarin. Melts in the mouth with the texture of butter. Made with pasteurized cow's milk."

Forget about descriptions of flavors, textures and ingredients; that's about the greatest understatement that I have ever read.

Le Delice De Bourgogne is like a smug, self-contented sigh after a stellarly, satisfying sexual experience...

Find it (available in Brooklyn at Union Market in Park Slope). Buy it. Enjoy it.

Oh in Ohio? Oh, No...

2006-07-19T18:44:00.000-05:00

The City of Cleveland has turned up in a few feature films over the last decade and has "impersonated" other locales over the years like Clairton, PA in "the Deer Hunter." The newest Cleveland movie is "Oh in Ohio" with Parker Posey, Heather Graham, Mischa Barton and Danny Devito.

"Oh in Ohio" has the distinction of being the only Parker Posey flick to leave me disappointed. If the film hadn't been shot in my semi-hometown of Cleveland, I would have contemplated walking out. There are so many things lacking in the film that there is little point in enumerating them. The only thing that the film did do right was present Cleveland in a positive manner - - - as a great place to live, work, recreate and operate a business.

If you want to see a good film shot in Cleveland, rent "American Splendor" or "The Antwone Fisher Story." Don't pay full admission for "Oh in Ohio."

War as Economic Development

2006-06-16T22:53:00.000-05:00

The "weapons of mass destruction" argument has been debunked. No matter how many times Saddam Hussein's name is mentioned in the same sentence as the terror attacks of 9-11, we know that's not where the responsibility lays. Turkey, our ally and the recipient of billions in US economic aid, has been conducting a genocidal campaign, that upstages Iraq's, against its Kurdish population since 1992 - destroying 3,000 plus Kurdish villages; so, we can't claim we care enough about the Kurds to go to war. Hell, you can't even claim it's the oil. All Middle-eastern oil accounts for less than 10% of the US's annual oil consumption. That is just $11 billion in oil compared to the $50 billion we spend annually "protecting" the Middle East, not to mention the $289 billion and growing that we have spent on the war in Iraq.

Perhaps, it's all just a post Cold War, unartfully constructed, economic stimulus package for the US defense industry... After all, Halliburton has done quite well for itself and Lockheed Martin has that government subsidized loan to repay. I wonder how many at home we could educate and what discoveries and technological advances we could make that would reposition our economic base and put our unemployed back to work if the $289 billion was but applied to more peaceful and productive purposes?

White House Projectionist New Most Powerful Man in Washington

2006-06-15T07:09:00.000-05:00

When Bush won a second term, I needed to shift my mental construct to rationalize his reelection. I could accept staunch Republicans voting for him in hopes that his presence in the White House would further the Party platform, help raise money for and get other Republicans elected (remember, this was a few years ago). I just couldn't accept all the people who said they voted for him because he was "doing a good job." So...

It was then that I started thinking of Georgie as a character in a musical comedy about Pol Pot, not the man in charge of the "noo-cu-lar" codes. After all, folks just love musical comedy... I know it sounds odd but it I've found it to be a highly effective coping mechanism.

Anyway... today, the LA Times reported that Bush will create the world's largest marine protected area. A total of 140,000 square miles of Pacific Ocean surrounding a string of islands and atolls that stretch from the Hawaiian Islands to the Midway Atoll.

I dive. I feel strongly about the health of our oceans. So, I think it's a good idea and hope that concessions will be developed for the native populations that have always depended on these waters for food. But Bush attempting to preserve the environment? How confusing... I've never heard it speculated that there exist "vast oil reserves" off Hawaii but an act of real environmental concsiousness... it didn't exactly seem in character.

Evidently, the turning point for this "greener" Bush came in April, when he sat through a 65-minute private White House screening of a PBS documentary that highlighted the beauty and threats facing the archipelago's waters and its nesting seabirds, sea turtles and puppy-dog-eyed monk seals, all threatened by extinction.

According to White House officials and others in attendance, the documentary seemed to really catch Bush's interest. Reportedly, he "popped up from his front-row seat after the screening; congratulated filmmaker Jean-Michel Cousteau, son of the late underwater explorer Jacques Cousteau; and urged the White House staff to get moving on protecting these waters."

"He was enthusiastic," Cousteau said. "I think he really made a discovery — a connection between the quality of our lives and the oceans."

Well, maybe this week, the White House projectionist could show "The War Tapes;" the first Iraq War documentary filmed entirely by the soldiers themselves. For good measure and to ensure Bush's attention, they could also show cartoons and serve popcorn and "Sno-Caps." Then, perhaps tomorrow, I can read in the LA Times that Bush is ending his terrorist breeding program; oops, I mean war, in Iraq.

In George Washington's farewell address, he counseled Americans to "avoid the necessity of those overgrown military establishments, which under any form are inauspicious to liberty, and which are to be regarded as particularly hostile to republican liberty." How many more times does America need to demonstrate that we can't micromanage the world and that we just don't understand other cultures? Korea, Iran, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Chile, Guatemala... consider what calamities arose in those places from American intervention and the resulting political vacuums. It's quite clear that there are still those in power that do not fully grasp the prospect for blow-back, at home and abroad, from our policy decisions and military actions.

Woe, the musical comedy...

J'aime Pandora

2006-06-03T12:30:00.000-05:00

In my late teens and twenties, I'd watch 120 Minutes on MTV and listen to college radio (WBWC, WUJC, WCSB) and write down the names of songs and artists that I liked. I also had bunches of friends doing the same thing plus access to DJs in Cleveland's alternative clubs.

I don't seem to have that kind of time anymore and I only have a handful of friends, these days, whose taste in music I trust, as well as somewhat resembles my own. Therefore, I tend not to be as up on new bands as I used to be. Watching NY Noise on NYCTV on Tuesdays at 10 helps, as does searches on myspace. But... that's all fairly random and I strike out far more often than I find anything that I really like.

Until today... Today, I found http://www.pandora.com/ If you've never used it, just click on the Link in this blog entry. The site allows you to enter the name of a song or artist that you like and then it develops a play list (what Pandora refers to as a "Station") of songs or artists with a similar sound. It's not perfect but you can refine the play list by providing additional guidance on each of the songs in your play list.

If you try Pandora; leave me a comment and let me know what you think.

Yet another reason to never leave the Slope

2006-05-29T11:19:00.000-05:00

I am overwhelmed by Union Market on Union Street between 6th & 7th Avenues. The quality and selection of foods is phenomenal. The breads are fabulous, the produce fresh and ripe and the specialty items... well just plain yummy.

My two latest favorite finds are Pear Ginger sorbet made by Blue Moon Foods, Inc. of Vermont and Pink Grapefruit yoghurt by Emmi Swiss Premium Yoghurt.

The Wild Parakeets of Prospect Park

2006-04-29T09:27:00.000-05:00

First, it was the auto mechanic telling me that "rodents" had left chicken bones on my car engine. Now, it's parakeets in the trees on my street. What's next? Can I expect alligators to suddenly emerge out of the sewers?

Great Lakes - My new favorite jukebox

2006-03-19T21:12:00.000-05:00

The music selection is stellar. UK Subs, Black Flag, Belle & Sebastian, This Mortal Coil and quite a few mix CDs that I suspect were made by other bar patrons. My only disappointment... no pool table.

"No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow." - Euripides

2006-03-04T01:55:00.001-05:00

One of my closest friends died last Thanksgiving. I received the call riding home with my cousins from the family dinner.

I didn't believe it at first. Not in the sense that denial is a frequent companion to bad news but alternately, that the events surrounding Dawn's death were too surreal and outrageous to be real. She fell down an elevator shaft while climbing out of an elevator car that was stuck between floors. I was certain that the caller must have misunderstood or that I had misunderstood the caller.

I can't remember how many times my friends and I, including Dawn, climbed out of a rickety old, freight elevator, a couple feet above or below the intended floor at the Lift... and always exited without any injury or incident.

I had just spoke with Dawn earlier that day. It was a long and funny conversation. Most of our conversations were. The first thing out of her mouth was a question about if I remembered who it was that she had been making out with at the party where we first met. I could tell her exactly what it was that she was wearing - a Pucci knock-off that had once belonged to her mother and where the making out had taken place - on a mattress on the floor of the hostess' attic but... I couldn't tell her who. We had met 15 + years previous; I was impressed that I remembered as many details as I did. Then she spent a good deal of time encouraging me to proposition/sleep with a mutual friend of ours - - - "You can't let those condoms expire," she said, referencing an inside joke. She teased me about the former Olympic wrestler that I had met when I visited her in DC, a few weeks previous and she told me about her last "mess in a dress" night out in the Capital. And, even though I was staying with family at the time, she also wanted to make sure that I had plans for Thanksgiving dinner. She was spending hers with some friends that she had been growing increasingly annoyed with and she joked about finishing her dessert, pushing back her chair from the table and announcing that she was ending the friendship.

Dawn had been one of my closest friends ever since we were roommates for 10 months back in the early 90s. It was supposed to be a 12 month lease but she drove me so batty that we moved out two months early. I have the funniest memories from when we were roommates. Her getting drunk on Creme de Menthe and tormenting my cat to such an extent that he ran from the sound of her voice for the rest of his life. Or, how I left the apartment for 20 minutes on the day that she moved in and during that time, defying both commonsense and logistics, she moved all the food stuffs to under the sink and put all the pots, pans and cleaning products in the cabinets above the sink. The first and last time that she ever had calamari, when I got her to eat what she believed was an onion ring. Or, how if she answered the phone in her room and the call was for me and the caller was of the opposite sex, she would tell the caller that I wasn't "there" (as in not in her room even though she would be well aware that I was at home) and proceed to have a 20 minute conversation with the caller that I would only learn about later from the person that called, never from Dawn. Or, her scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees at 4 AM, after a stressful night working at the club. The worst was when her compulsion to clean collided with me having my wisdom teeth extracted. That night, she cleaned out my desk drawers and threw away the gauze that my dentist had given me to pack my gums. Her excuse? "It was all cut up into little pieces," so, it had to be trash. Funny now; not so funny when I woke up in the middle of the night and needed some.

But, if you know me, then you know that I deeply value people being themselves and that I adore people with complex or quirky personalities, particularly if the person is bright and Dawn was... So, in spite of the roommate situation being less than ideal, I always loved and valued Dawn and each of her eccentricities. I'm glad that I know that she had no reason to doubt that.

I never valued Dawn and our friendship more than in the last year of her life. In December of 2004, I moved to southern California. I had ended up in California by default. It was long past time for me to leave Cleveland. CA was an easy place in which to job hunt; the salary to cost of living ratio was excellent for the public sector; it had an ocean and I convinced myself that if my friends Jason and Steven liked LA, well... so could I. I didn't like it though. I hated just about everything about it. It was one of the most miserable times of my life. I was lonely. I felt so far away from everything that was important to me. The laid-back attitude and slow pace stressed me out. I even hated all the sun. Dawn was my first visitor and throughout the nine months that I survived out there, she called me 3 or 4 times a week and those calls would soften the despair into a mere dull misery.

I can imagine her coming for a visit to my new apartment in Park Slope. I wish she could. I know that she would have loved that I have a Haagen Daaz store at the corner of my street; she frequently ate a pint of chocolate peanut butter for dinner when we lived together. She would have been so happy at the opportunity to see other old friends now living in NYC like Jason, Lee, Brad, Charlie and Berni. Frankly, I could envision her leaving DC and living here.

I always imagined Dawn and I, in our 70s and 80s, sharing a house again. Her scrubbing the floors, cats in the yard, my tax returns and cancelled checks in the trash... I guess I'll be rethinking my 70s and 80s... There is no way that those years will be as entertaining without her. Nor likely, as clean and organized.

I keenly hope to honor Dawn's life and memory for the rest of my life. I will endeavor to do everything that I dream of or want to do, as she did in spite of at times, limited resources or lack of an interested companion to join her, whether it was traveling the world or just checking out a new restaurant or an old band. I will also endeavor to ensure that all of my friends know that I love them and exactly how important their friendships are to me.

What I actually miss about California

2006-02-11T23:55:00.000-05:00

So far... I miss three things. First, it was great not getting a red, runny nose and wind burn from being out in the cold in the winter. Secondly, the Red Hot Chili Peppers (particularly the early stuff) honestly sounded better in CA. Lastly, I miss the $42 Pilates classes in Long Beach. As for the rest, I'm just plain giddy to be in NYC!

Anonymous Commenter(s)

2006-01-22T18:20:00.000-05:00

sour puss
Originally uploaded by fantascii.

What is it that prompts individuals to post negative anonymous comments to another's blog?

Are they afraid that the blogger will somehow figure out who they are and come kick their ass?

Are they too web-illiterate to to figure out how to submit the comment along with their name or Blogger identity?

Is this the "new crank call?"

In real life are they pretending to be the blogger's friend but in truth despise or resent the blogger?

Are they simply bitter people with too much time on their hands?

Are they sad people who drink too much and think their comments are funny?

Is Maureen Dowd right? Am I sending the wrong message?

2006-01-05T22:47:00.000-05:00

lunch time tale
Originally uploaded by niznoz.

In Maureen Dowd's new book, "Are Men Necessary?", she laments over what she perceives is a return to 1950s gender roles and courtship rituals. Fine, whatever...

The part of the book that made me worry is when Dowd suggests that if a woman offers to pay for herself at a restaurant or bar, that she's basically signaling her male companion that she's not interested. This concerns me because I almost always offer to pay for myself. Actually, it's usually when I'm decidedly not interested at the end of an evening that I don't offer to pay. If I didn't do the inviting, why should I pay for a less than interesting time?

Now, I really like Dowd but I'm not just going to accept her casual observations as fact. Let's face it, Ms. Dowd is fond of the exaggeration... Because I'm getting bored waiting for a new job to start and I'm generally a little neurotic about dating anyway, I thought I'd go in search of additional anecdotal evidence to either support or refute Dowd's hypothesis.

First stop, my twenty-five year old cousin Ali. She totally agreed with Dowd. Ali's never paid when out with a member of the opposite sex, regardless of whether he is a romantic interest or is just a friend. Among Ali's social circle, only one of her female friends insists on paying and evidently, that's tied into some sort of pathological need to not feel indebted to anyone.

Next stop, Barnes & Noble and some "Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus" self-help dating books (no, I didn't make a special trip; I was headed there already). I only made it through the indices of three books before my teeth started to itch. Books like "The Rules" were so patently demoralizing to both women and men that I couldn't force myself to skim through any more. Coincidentally, each of the books I picked up basically claimed the same thing... men are hardwired to act as providers due to mankind's hunter-gatherer past. To pay for yourself is to basically disparage their manhood and question their ability to provide!

Holy shit! I've been unwittingly disparaging men's manhoods for decades... So, does this mean that I'm going to stop offering to pay? Nope. I earn a decent salary. What, am I supposed to just spend it on lingerie, hair care products and sewing notions?

On the other hand, I never make an issue out of paying. I'll offer once and if my male companion says that he has it covered, I'm fine with just saying thank you. If that proves too much for the ego of anyone who is out with me, they should pay the check and then run, not walk, to the nearest exit. Because, seriously, it's just bound to get worse from there...

Are We Who We Were?

2005-12-27T11:06:00.000-05:00

bauhaus
Originally uploaded by troppmann.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading through some old Quiet Crisis transcripts on cleveland.com. One of the panelists theorized that it is Cleveland's close knit community fabric that has retarded its reincarnation from rust belt to renaissance. The panelist suggested that it is difficult for Clevelanders to gain support for new ideas because the community has essentially "typecast" them based upon past ideas, jobs, associations, etc.

The theory made me think of my ten-year high school reunion. The only event that I participated in was the "girl's night out" at a Lakewood bar. In high school, I was never part of a specific clique but had friends across most of the groups based upon who I had classes with, who was in my homeroom, who was also on the school paper, etc... Anyway... I'm sitting at a table with Kristin X, the person responsible for my enduring fondness for black penny loafers, when she says, "Look. Lori X is coming this way. Well, she better not try and talk to me because I didn't speak to her in high school and I'm certainly not going to speak to her now!" I wondered that night how things went for Bill Gates at his ten-year reunion.

I know other people that think the same way. I have more than one close friend who is inclined to still judge people based upon how they acted and dressed in high school. Often, the ones who are still being judged on past faux pas are fairly successful - published authors, musicians, entrepreneurs, sound engineers, etc. People who, had they not spent their youth under the microscope in Cleveland, my friends would tremendously enjoy meeting at a party.

I later referenced this theory gleaned from the Quiet Crisis transcript when speaking with a friend of mine in Cleveland who is considering a move to New York. This friend's frustration has grown exponentially as he has, at age 38, been referred to as a "boy" in a local weekly newspaper and has been typecast as someone who rode the coattails of an elected official no longer in public office. This friend has an undergraduate degree from a nationally-regarded liberal arts college and a MBA from one of the top business schools in the region; he also has tremendous experience in nonprofit management and government affairs. Evidently, it doesn't matter. Cleveland won't allow him to break out of the role he played for just a few short years in his early twenties.

I can personally identify with Cleveland community-think and typecasting. I have not recommended people for employment based upon their past performance in college group projects. Does this mean that I've been essentially, "black-listing" people for life based upon youthful academic laziness? A little bit. All other things being equal, yes, it counted. As time goes by and they build an employment history and reputation in their field, I hope that their work product will eclipse their college performance. I will, however, probably always remember them as having let down the group.

I've also been "typecast." In Cleveland, in certain circles, I was perceived as a "kid" into my mid-thirties. Luckily, I was at least perceived as "the smart kid" but when you're worried about the onset of wrinkles and graying hair, it's a bit frustrating to have certain colleagues treat you less seriously than some guy in his fifties with less experience.

So... are we who we were? I believe that we can learn from past mistakes, from being exposed to new people and ideas and from other experience. However, I also think that an individual's core values are not likely to change too drastically.

None of the above was my actual inspiration though for writing this entry. This morning, I had been reading a couple other blogs posted on blogger.com and one interested me enough to read the poster's profile. Included in the profile, under interests, was the name of a Cleveland artist with whom I am familiar. The reference made me think about what I knew about this person. I remembered him handing me a business card a long time ago that said, "Tell Me Your Secrets." I remembered that in my last apartment in Cleveland, he lived around the corner from me and that he used to always walk his little dog past my place. I remembered that his home was a strange storefront/industrial building with a bubble machine on the roof. And, I remembered visiting his gallery and liking his work. But, none of this was really explaining for me why a twenty-something art student in New York City would list this artist by name on her blog as "an interest."

Curious, I "googled" the artist's name and found his web site. Turns out the artist, whom I thought of more in terms of his dog walking, has done cover art for Marvel comics and album covers. Further, one of his posters is part of a collection at the Louvre. Reading through the web site, I started to remember once having known some of this.

So, maybe the real answer to the question, "Are we who we were" is "Only so much as other people neglect to see who we have become."

The Flying Shoe Interview

2005-10-15T15:55:00.000-05:00

I had a brilliant interview for a job with the City of New Haven's Livable City Initiative. My interviewers were very enthusiastic about my resume and asked about my interest in other open positions because they liked my background in transportation and economic development.

At the end of the interview, I uncrossed my legs to stand and my left shoe flew 2 feet across the floor, in the direction of one of my interviewers! I probably would have been mortified if it hadn't been so absolutely hilarious.

What did I say after I re-shod my left foot? I said "Great... now I'll forever be known as the candidate that couldn't keep her shoes on."

Things I Plan to Avoid During my Remaining Time in LA/LBC

2005-08-25T19:28:00.000-05:00

la mountians
Originally uploaded by dream awakener.

1. Being tied to an anchor and drowned by a former Power Ranger (see Link).
2. Getting car jacked.
3. Eating breaded fish tacos with coleslaw and tartar sauce.
4. Getting shot at in traffic on a freeway.
5. Disappearing without a trace like Olivia Newton John's boyfriend.
6. Being slaughtered surrounded by my family in San Pedro.
7. Getting a caffeine enema or any other cleansing or colonic treatments.
8. Getting bit by yet another spider.
9. Breaking yet another bone in my foot.
10. Dying in a terrorist attack on the Port.
11. Having the first CA earthquake I notice actually be "the big one."
12. Encountering one of the feral cats with bubonic plague from Kern County, CA.
13. Watching the local news, from whence most of this list originated.
14. Finding out first hand that neither my office nor apt. is really out of tsunami range.

Cleveland Slogan

2005-08-17T22:28:00.000-05:00

Cleveland Slogan
Originally uploaded by Decay, Rattle and Hum.

Plum, North Coast, You Got To Be Tough... I like this one better

My Not So Secret Admirer

2005-06-26T02:40:00.000-05:00

12
Originally uploaded by Sean Healey.

OK, so the photo is a bit of an exaggeration... He is however over 6 foot, rides a Harley, is bald and is probably pushing 280 to 300 pounds. Yeah, just my type... Worse... he and I have the same employer though luckily, he is in a different division.

So, here's how it all played out... I'm in the cafeteria about a month ago and one of the maintenance guys tells me that his "buddy" has rode the elevator (no, that is not a euphemism) with me a few times and wants me to call him. He proceeds to tell me that the elevator guy likes me and attempts to describe him to me. I have absolutely no clue who he's talking about and tell him so. He then tries to hand me a scrap of paper with the guy's cell phone number on it.

Aargh! I explain to him that I hate speaking on the phone to begin with and I'm not going to call someone who I don't know and that I couldn't imagine a worse or more awkward phone conversation. I refuse to take the phone number from him and say his friend should just introduce himself the next time we're on the elevator together.

Within the hour, my admirer had already left a message for me with the secretary. Before the end of the day, he'd left another on on my voice mail.

I'm terribly annoyed at this point. I don't want to have to deal with this at work. So, the next morning I actually call him to put an end to it. He answers and I explain to him that I don't want to speak with him on the phone and while I don't know exactly who he is or why he's calling, I'm not given to socializing with coworkers off the clock (only a minor exaggeration...). He then asks to stop by my office to introduce himself. I tell him I'm busy (I was) and says he'll stop by tomorrow instead, then he says goodbye and hangs up.

I'm totally panicked because all can think is this guy won't take a hint and I'm trapped someplace where I can't be rude to him.

I turned to the one coworker I like socially to get some advice. And, it gets worse... Turns out that my admirer had to be ejected from a work function last year for drunkenness and sneaking in a non-employee. It was also then that I got a more detailed description of what this guy looked like and remembered seeing him around.

I contemplated going to my boss or at least my secretary and asking them that if I can't get him out of my office in under 10 minutes when he shows up, if they could interrupt. The only thing that stopped me was that he was coworker. I felt blackmailed about it but I didn't want to do anything to create embarrassment or problems in the work place for him. It's really too bad that he wasn't being similarly courteous.

Well, days went by and then a week and other than the constant teasing from the one person at work that I had confided in, I'd neither seen nor heard anything from the admirer.

Eventually, I came to believe that my words had sunk in and that I was off the hook. Which was a good thing, because then I heard about another incident involving him and a bottle of tequila at a recent work function.

Well, wouldn't you know it... the same day I heard the tequila story, his friend who had originally approached me told me that the admirer would soon be calling me because a friend of his was interested in leasing some property from our employer. Although I'd previously found it ridiculous that my boss took all property inquiries, that day I was grateful for it. I explained the call should be directed to my boss and continued walking.

Now, I find myself scanning the parking lot, elevators, hallways and the cafeteria in constant trepidation. It sucks.

And yeah, you might think I'm overreacting but I've attracted a couple stalkers in my life and while nothing really bad happened, it certainly wasn't very pleasant.

One guy stole my address and phone number out of my dance professor's office and sent me cards and called me to tell me how much he liked what I wore that day. I came to believe he was actually following me. He signed his own name on the cards, which was how my dance professor figured out how he got my info (he cleaned the professors' offices).

He was a real winner. My professor told me how she'd seen him at the mall holding hands with his sister and how once, after a theater production, he'd peed in a potted plant at a bar where the cast and crew was out celebrating.

My other stalker was at least a little more respectable. He and I met when I was working at a car rental agency. He was new to town, had just started a job with a large law firm and hadn't bought a car yet. He and I actually went out on a date.

I made the mistake of telling him that my grandfather's wife had taken me to a fortuneteller the year before who told me that I would marry a left-handed, red-headed lawyer. Yes, he had dark red hair and it turned out he was also left-handed.

When I told him I didn't want to go out again that I wasn't really interested in dating anyone right then, he decided that the reason for this must have been that I had once been raped (I have no clue...).

Anyway, he sent me the nicest dozen roses that I have ever seen and when I called to explain that I was serious about not going out with him, he told me about the "rape theory." I corrected him and hoped that was the end of it. Occasionally, even after he'd bought a car, he'd show up at the airport just to talk to me. I felt trapped but not threatened because he never again brought up going out.

Some months later, he showed up at the car rental desk with some story about just getting back from a business trip and having lost his wallet. He asked if I could give him a ride home when my shift was over. I thought the whole "rape theory" thing was weird but he really hadn't creeped me out yet so, I agreed.

I was to get creeped out very, very soon. When we got to my car he told me that he'd gotten a new apartment and he'd give me directions as I drove. For some reason, it didn't occur to me to ask him for the address. It soon became apparent we were headed toward my neighborhood. At that point, I expected an attempt for an invitation to my place but no... we went past my street to the next one. Turned out, his new place was directly behind my apartment, or more specifically, my bedroom window (yes friends, this is why I rarely ever open my blinds).

I didn't point out the proximity between our apartments and he got out of my car without any incident. Some time later, I heard from my friend Ainsley that she'd waited on someone that I used to go out with at the restaurant she worked at. How that comes up while ordering dinner, I have no clue. The next I'd heard about him, he and Ainsley had become friends. Soon, Ainsley and I lost touch and I never saw him or heard any more about him.

Hopefully, this workplace admirer won't provide any more stalking stories for me to share...

I missed my first earthquake!

2005-06-19T12:50:00.000-05:00

San Diego Earthquake (June 15, 2005)
Originally uploaded by Wired Dude Dave.

The ground has been a little shaky here in southern California for the last week. We even had a tsunami warning for the whole California coast the one night (and yes, the National Broadcast System does really provide more information in the event of a real emergency). The biggest "event" was a 5.2 trembler centered near the San Andreas fault. The effects were felt from LA to San Diego. The news carried a lot of stories of things falling off walls and shelves and people running out-of-doors in case it was "the big one"

Me, I was sitting in my office when it happened, working on my computer. And, in spite of it evidently, scaring the bejesus out of the cafeteria staff and freezing all my coworkers in place as they waited for what might happen next... I didn't notice a damn thing!

My only explanation is that my apartment shakes every time the Metro goes by and perhaps, I've become desensitized? I still don't quite get it; I felt the baby earthquake years ago in Cleveland that cracked the air traffic control tower at Hopkins. How did I not notice this one?

Oh, well. I am assured by everyone here that there will definitely be more opportunities to come.

Public Policy Takes Center Stage, Literally

2005-05-18T21:21:00.000-05:00

When Shakespeare said, '... all the world's a stage and we are mere players', I doubt he was speaking of urban planners and zoning administrators. However, "civic theater" has become civic theater in playhouses from Manhattan to Los Angeles. Click on Link to read the full article "Civic agenda" written by Christopher Reynolds, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer

Holy Hypothermia Aquaman!

2005-04-26T19:40:00.000-05:00

sailing card
Originally uploaded by Decay, Rattle and Hum.

This past Saturday was my last sailing class through the City of Long Beach's Leeway Sailing Center. On the agenda was a written test covering the parts of the boat and sails, a rigging test and a sailing skills test where each student had to demonstrate tacking, jibing, close hauling and a beam reach back into the dock.

My friend Susie (who e-mailed me recently that most of the US Olympic small craft women's sailing team is in their 40s so, I could still be an Olympian) would have been so proud of my performance. Even the weight disparity between my sailing partner and I, made worse by his slow response time on the jib sheets when I shouted "tack", didn't manage to ruin my run of the course. In fact, the instructor gave me kudos for how I compensated for my partner blowing my first try at the beam reach into the dock when he slowed the boat too much by not switching the jib to the port side on my last planned tack.

All tests completed, there was one final activity that each student needed to participate in to pass the class and be awarded their sailing certificate... the dreaded capsize! Which viciously and strategically, was not mentioned in the course description nor alluded to by the instruction until just the week before. Now, I've unintentionally capsized and righted Sun Fish so, it wasn't that I was afraid of the capsize itself. Although, Rod & Marianne Semrad's past admonishments to not swim in marinas (the actual sailing portion took place in a "bay" area created by a concentration of close-shore islands and peninsulas that is also home to a couple marinas and private docks) due to possible presence of effluent crossed my mind but I'd already scoped out where the fresh water hoses were so, onward... The catch (beside earthquakes and mudslides) about sunny Southern California is that the Pacific never warms to summer East Coast Atlantic or Midwest Great Lake norms.

When Friday's weather report predicted cool temps and rain for Saturday, I even called the sailing center in hopes of hearing that the capsize drill would be postponed due to weather to the following weekend when I was counting on a heat wave. No such luck, the instructor told me that we were sailing unless there was a "torrential downpour." I asked for his advice on wearing a wet suit but he assured me that I'd be in and out of the water so quickly that the suit would be liability not asset. Desperate and only somewhat kidding, I actually told a coworker, who happens to be married to the City Manager and is a former manager in the city's recreation dept., about this ludicrous hypothermia-tempting exercise. She offered to do a rain dance to ensure copious precipitation but alas, she wouldn't have her hubby cancel the class.

OK, enough digressing... back to the scene. On the day of the planned capsizing, the air temp was in the low 60s and the water temp was in the low 50s. The drill called for the two-person teams to each take a turn playing "captain" - whose role would be to quickly swim to the centerboard and use their weight to leverage the capsized boat back into an upright position and "crew" - whose role would be to hang onto the hiking strap in the bottom of the cockpit as the boat was being righted (called the "scoop method") thereby positioning them back onboard so, they could then help the "captain" climb aboard at the stern. As I mentioned above, there was a bit of weight difference between my partner and I. Specifically, I'm five foot four inches tall and around one hundred and fifteen pounds and he was over six feet and likely over two-hundred and fifty pounds. A bit self-conscious about being the only one to show up in neoprene from neck to ankle plus concerned about overheating leading up to the capsize, I passed on wearing my full wet suit but had brought along my shorty to later change into. In the end, because my shorty is only a 2/1 thickness and the current fit is too loose in the legs, I ended up never putting it on.

Other than a few classmates briefly panicking when the capsize landed them under the sails, one getting knocked on the head by the mast and everyone bitching about the water being cold, every other team's capsizing passed fairly uneventfully. The only other female of my size in the class took longer and strained more than any of my other classmates but eventually, she too was able to right the boat and "scoop" up her partner, who was only slightly taller and heavier than herself.

My partner and I were the last team. I decided that I would play "captain" first. My logic was that if I couldn't right the boat due to the weight disparity (the instructor could not be cruel enough to make me attempt it indefinitely), he and I could just trade places in the water and he could get the boat righted (I had no clue how I was going to pull him into the boat but I really wasn't thinking that far ahead). So, we capsized the boat without any problems and after the word "f*ck" loudly escaped escaped my lips instantly upon contact with the frigid water, I quickly swam around to the center board. Once there, I signaled my "crew" that I was ready to go and started propelling myself in and out of the water pressing down on the centerboard in an attempt to rock the boat back upright. And then, I did it some more... Then, my instructor shouted from the dock to try hoisting my full body weight up on the centerboard. Yeah, that didn't quite work either... By this time, I'm shivering uncontrollably, my limbs feel like they are made of Silly Putty, I'm breathing way too rapidly and my heart is racing (thanks to the internet, I now know that these are symptoms of hypothermia) . I pour everything that I have left into a combo of the two above described techniques. Finally, I can feel it starting to work. The instructor and other classmates are on the dock cheering me on. Yes! The boat was finally back upright again.

I can't tell you how long it took. It could have been five minutes; it could have been over fifteen. I swam to the back of the boat with barely functioning limbs and racing breath and heartbeat, ready to be assisted aboard by my "crew." But, who should I meet at the stern, still in the water, but my "crew." Turns out, I was able to right the boat only after he released the hiking straps and his weight was no longer counteracting my attempts to right the boat.

There was literally no way that I could have pulled myself abroad; that's how weak my arms and legs were by then. Then my partner announces that he's recovering from hernia surgery and wouldn't have been able to help me aboard anyway. Aarghh! Not sure if the instructor finally noticed my rapid breathing or had just become concerned over the eye-catching blue shade my lips had turned but he then thought to ask if I was OK. To this I emphatically replied, "Not really!" and he directed me to swim to the dock, which luckily, was only about twenty feet away.

Even wearing a life jacket, it was the longest twenty feet of my life attempting to swim in spite of the cramping and weakness in all my limbs. The instructor hauled me up on deck, made the appropriate cooing noises over my hard-earned success and then, in spite of my indigo lips and near hyperventilating, actually asked if I wanted to go back out for my partner's turn at playing "captain!" To this I wheezed "No!", the volume of my reply barely audible over the chattering of my teeth. I shakily headed to the classroom, toweled off, bundled up in some warm, dry clothes and then headed into the bathroom where I took a moment to admire the groovy blue tint still visible on my lips.

I couldn't shake the chill and stood around shivering while I waited for the instructor to finish filling out my certificate. I then wobbled and weaved to my car, where I had to rest and warm up for the next ten minutes until the shivering subsided enough for me to drive. At home, I immediately hopped into a hot shower. It didn't work... I was still shivering under a stream of scalding water so, I let the tub fill and submerged myself up to my neck. In total, I spent one and one-half hours in a state of teeth-chattering, bone-jarring shivering. After a cup of hot tea, I crawled under a down comforter and took a long nap. Waking up, I finally felt toasty but within the hour, I was shivering again and running myself another hot bath.

During my second bath, I noticed the ugliest bruises that I've ever seen along my upper arms, knees, thighs and calves where my body had obviously been connecting with the centerboard. My upper arms were (and still are) the funky purple color of the dye used by the USDA to stamp inspected beef (photos to follow once I finish this roll of film and have it developed). In the past, I've commented about how I, at times, have looked like a "battered wife" due to how easily I bruise. But, never, never has my skin turned hues like these. The bruises are so dark and purple that they look like side-effects radiation poisoning. Evidently, at some point, I also hit my chin on something but thank god, though it does hurt, it did not bruise.

So, sorry Susie... I'm passing the Olympic dream baton back to you. The intermediate class also has a capsize requirement and unlike my Open Water diving certification, where I was allowed to do my "check-out" dives in warmer, friendlier waters, with sailing, I'm stuck with the glacial Pacific, where even in summer, water temps only barely reach the mid-sixties.

To be fair, I must acknowledge that I was the only member of the class to have such an extreme reaction to the cold water, which leaves me terribly curious as to how SoCal residents, who claim to be freezing in air temperatures under seventy degrees, are somehow hardy enough to cope just fine with water temperatures low enough to chill beer!

Bill before the CA State Assembly would Pave the Way to Fund Port of LA Operations by Diverting Taxes Away from City Services

2005-04-20T21:00:00.000-05:00

ship
Originally uploaded by Decay, Rattle and Hum.

States allow local governments to access different types of tax diversion mechanisms to fund specific types of local projects. These tax mechanisms are known as tax increment finance or TIFs. This is not a tax abatement. The property owner still has to pay out an amount equal to the assessed property tax level. Originally, TIFs were primarily used for infrastructure. An example being the new taxes created through the development of a new industrial park could be diverted to pay bond debt service on the new roads and sewers for that same industrial park.

In California, these actions are permitted under Health & Safety Codes for the elimination of "blight." After an area has been assessed and determined to meet the state set criteria for "blight", a redevelopment plan is created to identify how the blighting influences can be eliminated. A local Redevelopment Agency, with the proper local supporting legislation, can then begin implementing the redevelopment plan in the Redevelopment Zone and utilizing the resulting net increase in tax revenues to fund the plan. California state law further proscribes that a significant portion of the diverted net tax proceeds be used to fund affordable housing opportunities.

On February 22, 2005, California State Assembly Member Karnette (oddly, of Long Beach not Los Angeles) introduced Assembly Bill 1330 (click on the word Link below for the complete Bill ). This bill, if passed, would amend various sections of California's Health and Safety Code to allow for the Port of Los Angeles to be declared "blighted", become a Redevelopment Zone and access tax increment finance to fund port infrastructure and safety improvements.

We all want our airports and sea ports to be protected from terrorism and we all want to see infrastructure improvements to decrease truck traffic on Los Angeles County's freeways... so, why do I think this is a bad idea? Because... ports have the ability to generate revenue from other sources.

Ports charge a variety of fees, which are set locally and outlined in each port's Tarriff. Fees are charged per container handled; for the time the container sits on the dock; berthing fees for the time a ship is berthed at the dock; more fees per each ton of bulk cargo; etc... Additionally, some ports, like Los Angeles, are "landlord ports." This means that they own most, if not all, of the land, facilities, cranes and ship loaders within the harbor district. And... everyone using the land, facilties, cranes and ship loaders must pay rents and fees if they want to operate their businesses at the port.

California state law protects the revenues a port generates by declaring them "enterprises." This means that revenues generated by the port must be used for port purposes. Those revenues, for example, legally can not be used to fund a city's parks and recreation programs.

The Port of Los Angeles is the busiest cruise ship port on the West Coast of the United States. The Port of Los Angeles also handles more container business than any other port in the US. Its traffic, taken in combination with the container traffic of its twin port of Long Beach, ranks it as one of the top five busiest container ports in the entire world. With a well thought out business plan, it ought to be able to generate all the funding it needs through rents and Tariffs. The Port of LA should be regularly reviewing its operating costs and ensuring that its Tariff and rents are set accordingly. If it is burdened with a legacy of long-term leases that include rents that are below market rate, the Port of L.A. should invest in legal counsel to assess the lease language and advise it if the legal grounds exist to renegotiate any of those rents.

Should, for some reason, those measures fail to generate the revenue needed to operate the port... I still say Assembly Bill 1330 is a bad idea. As California's population has grown, so have the demands on tax proceeds. The State of California and many local governments have had to cut their budgets, reduce services and lay-off employees. So, are California taxes like Port of L.A. rents and Tariffs set just too low to cover expenses? Sort of...

A ballot measure, commonly referred to as Proposition 13, passed by the California electorate in the 1970s, caps the taxable value of residential property at what the property was worth when it was purchased or if new, built. That means that owners of two identical houses, built at the same time, right next door to each other, could be paying vastly different tax bills if one property has remained under a single owner while the other has changed hands a number of times. These houses are right next to each other so, we can assume that the occupants, over time, will benefit equally from government services funded by tax proceeds such as street repairs and police and fire service. However, the owner of the property that transferred most recently, and therefore best reflects taxes paid upon a true market value, is paying his share plus subsidizing the costs of those tax-funded benefits received by his neighbor. Doesn't quite sound fair, does it?

I don't see how, on top of the current tax climate, I as an L.A. County resident and registered voter could even fathom supporting an effort to divert tax dollars away from the city's general fund where it could be used to hire additional police, fund the library system, better equip the city's firefighters...

OK, so then what? The Port of L.A. still needs money for security and infrastructure improvements and Proposition 13 isn't going away tomorrow, right? Well... has the Port of L.A. exhausted all possibilities for the grant funding of these projects from foundation, state and federal sources? Or, providing that the Port of L.A. is already operating in a fiscally efficient manner and unfortunately, news reports on its audit findings suggest it is not, did anyone bother to look into a teeny, tiny new tax levy spread across all of Los Angeles County, thereby minimizing its impact on any one person or population? The levy could even be written with a sunset clause causing it to expire in a specified number of years once absolutely needed infrastructure and safety upgrades to each of Los Angeles County's airports and sea ports were completed.

Unfortunately, this is an Assembly Bill that so far is not attracting much public or media attention. I can only hope that the level of attention and public debate over this issue increases before it is voted into law.

If you are an insomniac or a policy wonk like I am, I encourage you to read the actual wording of the bill. An additional item, which I found interesting, is that the Port of Los Angeles is named outright within the bill. It is very common for state legislation to be introduced that is designed specifically to benefit a single city or public facility. However, this type of legislative "targeting" is usually accomplished through creative verbiage crafted so narrowly that only the intended beneficiary of the bill could possibly benefit. In the case of the Port of LA, such language might have instead read "all sea ports located within a chartered city with a population of over two million and a poverty rate in excess of the national average." So, while I still disagree with the bill's objective, I do applaud its author's blatantness of intent...

George W. Bush and Crafting a Positive Mental Construct

2005-04-16T21:14:00.000-05:00

We still have a few more years to go of "Bushisms", fumerous televangilists, wacky cabinet-level and judicial appointments and, of course, pissing off other cultures. So... I thought I'd share my little, personal coping trick with all of you.

Life is a lot less stressful (and frankly, just plain funnier) if you stop thinking of W. as the guy with the codes to launch a nuclear ("nuke-u-lar") attack and alternately, just view him as a character in a musical comedy about Pol Pot.

Try it. It's a curiously easy mental leap to make. Isn't it?

Things I like About LA

2005-04-16T19:30:00.000-05:00

E3 2005 017
Originally uploaded by Danny, the gaming geek.

1. There aren't a lot of pigeons and other messy birds.
2. There are barely any flies and mosquitos.
3. I didn't "hibernate" this winter like I would have in Cleveland.
4. The Long Beach Recreation Dept. has the best programs. I'm learning to sail a 14 foot Capri. I've also taken yoga, Pilates and Tai Chi classes.
5. Cantor's Deli has the leanest pastrami I've ever had.
6. I got to meet the author Ray Bradbury at a panel discussion on the 1st Amendment.
7. The Orange County Performing Arts Center attracts quality productions like Alvin Ailey, the Cleveland Philharmonic Orchestra, Eifman Ballet, etc...
8. I'm going to a taping of Real Time with Bill Maher this Friday.
9. The Hollywood Farmers Market in Fairfax.
10. The Sunday Farmers Market in Santa Monica.
11. Alex's Bar in Long Beach, CA. It's a total dive bar that has Punk Rock Karaoke about once a month with a live band that includes former members of the Circle Jerks, Catch-22, Social Distortion, etc. I also got to see Spider Stacey of the Pogues play the with Filthy Thieving Bastards.
12. Sidewalk cafes (though oddly banned in some communities like Seal Beach) are open year round.
13. Long Beach Airport and Jet Blue's low fares.
14. Proximity to Mexico, San Diego, Phoenix, San Francisco, Las Vegas, etc...
15. My dry cleaner thought I must be a doctor or a lawyer because I have my shirts laundered. Amusingly, I dress far less casually than the average Southern Californian.
16. People tend to be very courteous.
17. I met Gore Vidal at the LA Times Festival Books at UCLA, which is one of the most beautiful college campuses that I have ever seen.
18. I keep finding and they keep finding me, more old friends now living in LA.
19. The architecture of restaurant at LAX
20. The Bradbury Building
21. Angel's Flight funicular

Ray Bradbury and "Italian Sex Play"

2005-04-13T19:51:00.000-05:00

One of my and my friend Amy's favorite things to do out in bars, after we've had a couple drinks, is demand that random bar patrons tell us what their favorite words are and, if warranted, berate them over their choices (I freely admit to being nerdy and bookish). We're looking for people to choose words for the word's sake alone, how it sounds, how your mouth feels saying it, etc. The word's meaning should have nothing to do with someone choosing it as a response. So... "freedom" would be a bad choice but "persnickety" would be a good choice. Yeah, it's pretty arbitrary but the game is designed for our alcohol-enhanced entertainment and as a means of identifying like-souls.

Anyway, at a panel discussion on the 1st Amendment the other night with Ray Bradbury, Brian Lamb from CSPAN and others, a student asked Ray Bradbury what his favorite word was to which he replied "yes." I was so deflated. Granted, he wasn't aware he was playing (up until that moment, neither was I) nor would he be familiar with "the rules" but "yes"... How hackneyed; why not "hope" or worse yet "peace". Bah!

Well... you know, I couldn't just leave it alone. And no... I didn't stand up and heckle him. But later, when he was signing my book, I said, "I was a little surprised by your favorite word - 'yes'. Mine is 'funicular'." He asked "Why?" I said "Because, it's just fun to say." He said, "Hhhmmm, you don't only like a word for what it means..." Then he said, "It sounds like a form of Italian sex play." or he might have said, "sounds like a form of Italian sex toy." I'm really not sure; the video camera operator was closing in on us, so I decided to skip asking for further clarification.

What Big Bang?

2005-04-13T19:47:00.000-05:00

The Big Bang, Creationism and Intelligent Design or... a geeky admission

I watched the movie "What the Bleep Do We Know!?" a few weeks ago. It was good to see that someone would make/finance a movie that is essentially a high-tech film strip for quantum physics and the chemo-anatomy of emotion.

Unfortunately, I repeatedly forgot that I was watching a movie and kept wandering off and doing other things like taking out the trash. Dancing flubber people grabbing at Maitlin's ankles, as she got drunk at a wedding (yes, same movie) weren't terribly effective at keeping me riveted to the tv screen. Which isn't to say it was a bad movie, just not a terribly scintillating one.

Oddly, what I did see of the movie managed to make me question my belief in the Big Bang Theory. Due to my wanderings, I'm not clear if this was discussed in the movie or not. At present, I've decided to believe that the universe has just always been here. I think its highly possible that we (scientists, not me personally) keep looking for the universe to have an origin because we're still operating under a universal precept of creationism. Pick a version: Judeo-Christian, Native American, Australian Aborigine, tribal African, etc. First there was basically nothing... and then something major and important happens. Who cares whether it's "god", sub-atomic fission or spontaneous combustion? We're still rehashing the same tale; we've just sanitized it for historic myth and religion.

Also... I really want to know if the biology text books the US government is distributing in Iraq only present the Theory of Evolution or if those texts, like some text books in various US states, now make mention of the Theory of Intelligent Design. Any thoughts on how to find out short of a public records request?

PBS sells out/buys in or the most deviously effective plea for donations ever...

2005-04-13T19:43:00.000-05:00

The below text is from the March 28th, 2005 Adrants.com newsletter and refers to commercials that will purportedly be airing on PBS. You can access a link to the commercials at:

http://www.adrants.com/2005/03/flesh-eating-virus-attacks-public.php

Flesh Eating Virus Attacks "Public" Television

Like a flesh eating virus, advertising continues to devour every last morsel of media content forgetting that, one day, it will stand alone, left to consume itself like a black hole nearing a food-induced orgasm as its hunger ravenously overtakes its lifeblood of available content. PBS and Chipotle Mexican Grill are speeding that process with PBS' airing of three, very commercial ad units that intertwine the message with the network's content by spoofing it.

The three spots; one which shows a pledge drive MC drowned out by the sound of ringing telephones as operators gorge on burritos, one which shows an Alistaire Cook look-a-like sign language woman signing incorrectly due to her burrito eating and one which shows a newscast interrupted as the newscaster slips out of frame because the cameraman is, you guessed it, eating a burrito, are the surest sign that public television - already on a long downward spiral into commercialism - has taken one monstrously historic jump over the shark.

Like we wrote years ago, it won't be long before a brand paints a homeowner's house for free as long as the brand can paint a gigantic logo on the front of the house. View the spot here. That is, of course, after you view the TV Guide commercial sponsoring the Chipotle commercial. Is that a sick joke, Ad Age?

Getting my Tattoo Re-Inked

2005-04-12T20:50:00.000-05:00

One spring day last year, I had the great idea of having my tattoo re-inked because it was about 7-years old and rather faded (why this bothered me I can't say because even in a bikini no one can see it).

One should never, ever get a tattoo done or re-inked spur of the moment!

I spent the whole night waking up stuck to my sheets. "Tony" kept me in the chair for 2 hours when it ought to only have
taken about 20 minutes (it's only about the size of a silver dollar!). The most apt description I can offer is that he "drilled the f*ck out of me", expletive, expletive! I think he might have just just liked working on me with my underwear pulled to the side and his forearm resting on my chest.

He showed me his 40-year old tattoo, that he woke up with in Mexico when he was in the Marines, on which only the figure's pink eye-shadow has faded (this part also involved him serenading the room with a Jimmy Buffet song as Prodigy blasted in the background; unfortunately his tattoo of a "Mexican cutie" was not anywhere he could have made it "dance" for me like you see sailors do in old movies) and telling me how he teaches doctors at the Cleveland Clinic to approximate the appearance of nipples on mastectomy patients using an ink gun (that he managed both with buzzing ink gun in hand leads me to suspect some ADHD issues or meth usage) when his 20-year old son pops in, announces that he's going to the strip club and then proceeds to kneel next to me and start hitting on me (FYI - he's learning the trade from dad and really wants to do my "next" tattoo).

Quite the slice of Americana out there at Finest Lines in Wickliffe, Ohio... yes, indeed. And that night, I stepped off the curb and splashed around in it for a little while before I sped off home in my Jetta 1.8 Turbo to my charming not-as-crazy neighborhood in the city.

My Good Friday Prediction

2005-03-25T15:31:00.000-05:00

My Good Friday Prediction...

The Pope will lapse today into a coma. He'll come out of it on Easter Sunday; share a last meal with the Swiss Guard and a few close friends; make some grand pronouncements about faith and then die. Several eye-witnesses, along with a number of residents of Spanish-speaking countries, will proclaim visions of his soul's ascension into heaven.

Within six months, Irish Bishops will launch a campaign to rescind those laws passed in Ireland during the last couple decades that finally made divorce and the use of contraception legal in that country. Jeb Bush will ask the Florida legislature to pass a resolution in support of their efforts and George W. Bush will make a public misstatement applauding the Irish Bishops' decision to stop using birth control.

Lastly, after much debate and review of Canonical Law, the Roman Catholic Church will finally acknowledge that there are only 2 days, not 3, in between Good Friday and Easter. Justice Anton Scalia will write the dissenting opinion. In a promising show of cooperation, top Israeli and Palestinian leaders will respond to the Catholics' announcement by jointly issuing a press release, stating simply, “We told you so!”

Rants from My First 2 Months in California

2005-02-02T20:56:00.000-05:00

LA Stories - 12/31/04

Since I arrived in Long Beach on Dec. 14th, my experiences have fallen into these general categories: 1) the good, 2) the not-so-good, 3) the truly disturbing, 4) culture shock and 4) Cleveland is a small town even when you're in LA.

Here are a few examples to bring you up to speed...

the good:

1) the weather

2) the view from the roof of the building my office is in

3) there is a lot to do within walking distance of my apt.

the not-so-good:

1) each errand becomes a multi-store, all-night endeavor because I don't know my way around or the names of the CA retail equivalents of stores like Pet Supplies Plus

2) you know those silly skinny kitchen cabinets that contractors put next to stoves and dishwashers to fill space that are only large enough to store cookie sheets? My kitchen has 4. My bread maker is currently in my coat closet

3) I can't find the cord to charge my drill

the truly disturbing:

1) you know those power scooter, wheelchair alternative things that you see advertised on cable TV at 3 AM as being 100 percent covered by Medicare? I see 2 - 3 people using them every time I leave the house. At first, I thought maybe I just live close to the local offices of the Veterans' Administration... but now I'm just growing concerned over my future mobility

2) I'm having a very challenging time finding an acceptable spot for the litter box

culture shock:

1) there are at least 3 Ikea's within 30 miles of my apt. The store in Carson seems to serve a predominantly Latino demographic. I've been there twice and both times it was me, a smattering of Asians and African-Americans and all the rest were Latino. Try and picture it... it somehow seems out of place with Scandinavian furniture. Probably, because previously, I've only ever shopped at the Ikeas in Pittsburgh and Toronto where the demographics are far different than in Carson.

Cleveland is a small town even in LA:

1) about every fifth person I've met here actually is from Cleveland or from Detroit and they just want to talk to me about Cedar Point Amusement Park for some weird reason.

2) wasn't in town even a week when I randomly ran into someone who I knew from Cleveland's club scene in the late 80s.

More LA Impressions 1/11/05

Good, Not So Good and Culture Shock isn't quite covering it all so... My new category of LA experiences comes from a Dr. Suess book - "And to Think That I Saw it on Mulberry Street" (the only Mulberry St. I know of is in NYC but who cares).

So, my first Mulberry-esque experience happened a few Friday nights ago at 10:30 PM at the Albertson's grocery store a few blocks from my apt. I need to pause here and say that the focus of this story is the choice of beverage... if it had been a gallon of milk, I wouldn't be sharing this story. The two guys in front of me at the checkout were dressed like they were heading out to a nightclub but were buying a six pack of Bacardi LOW-CARB Key Lime coolers and two Fleet enemas. See what you're missing when you go out on Friday nights as opposed to running errands...