switching this site around

In an attempt to switch this site around, I'm going to attempt to switch it to a new address and host. If you come to this address and find that the page is no longer here, go to http://www.bradwilson.us and the new site address should be linked from there.

one of the funnier things i've ever heard

Despite the fact that this site is screwed up and I have no time to fix it, I must still relate what I heard on the southeast corner of 235th St. and Johnson Avenue this past Saturday.

"Oh, he'll have no problem making it in New York. He's a performer - there's plenty of work. Why, there's Broadway, and there's Carnegie Hall..."

Do I need to explain why that's funny?

this site is screwed up

I haven't had the chance or desire to contribute much to this portion of my media empire. Recently I decided to dump all the dead wood of really bad past posts and make a fresh start, establishing categories for posts and something of a purpose for this, and then I discovered how completely messed up the mechanics of this whole site is. None of the archives work, I can't publish without about 10 error messages, etc.

There are some things going on in my life right now that are a lot more important than this place, so I'm afraid this place will continue to collect dust. My photo site has problems of it's own, but continues to putter along a bit better.

acting inspiration

This is the best fight scene ever recorded.

flight attendant quote

On a flight from Las Vegas to Los Angeles:

"Please make sure your seatbelts are turned on.".

noodle making

There is (or was, I can't seem to find it anymore) a Korean noodle restaurant on 32nd St that always mystified me. From time to time a chef would go to a worktable that faced the front window of the restaurant and would make noodles. Whenever he would do this I was sitting far back in the restaurant and was never able to see just how he went from holding a chunk of dough in his hands to holding gazillions of noodles in his arms - using nothing but his bare hands. I just never had the time to stand outside the front window until he did it again.

Well, thanks to the marvel of a video on You Tube that shows Mark Pi making a batch of noodles, I'm happy to say that I'm just as mystified after seeing this from the front as I was from the back. How do they do that?

i was rejected by coffee idol

Chock Full O Nuts had a contest to help choose a new singer for their famous jingle. I entered the contest and thought I had done a pretty good job, especially after hearing the other entrants the first week. However, the powers that be apparently have rejected me before America had the chance to vote and make me the next barista belter.

Click below to listen to my song. It sounds like it was recorded by a whole group of people, but I did all the voices. It was fun, even if I was totally robbed by a mammoth multi-national corporation.

A choir of Brads Sing the Chock Full O Nuts Jingle.

Click here to see pictures I took at the recording session.

my thoughts smell like bacon

Most of the time when I get home my brain is literally fried, figuratively speaking of course. That's why I never write anything for this site any more. However, I recently recorded a song to enter in a contest run by a major US company looking for a new jingle singer. I submitted my take on this jingle about a week ago and have thus far not heard a peep from said company. Could it be that I'm going to be an American Jingle Idol reject? Perhaps.

If my song is eventually posted on their website for America's vote, I will immediately post the link here and ask all 10 of my readers to promptly vote for me without even considering the competition. If it turns out that my jingle is rejected than I will post my recording in all it's glory so you can bear witness to the injustice. I may or may not have been robbed. We shall see.

In the meantime, I still take pictures.

overheard on a plane

A salesman was talking on his cell phone loudly.

"Great meeting! He went from being Mr. Scared-Guy to Mr. Wow-Guy!!"

chicken

I'm sitting in a restaurant in Las Vegas and just overheard the
following conversation:

"Yeah I'll have the chicken tenders and the chicken wings and..."

"That's a lot of chicken, man."

"Yo, those are totally different tastes, dude."

waste not, want not

My friend Louise is selling a charm bracelet on Ebay. She also found a pile of poop on her apartment doorstep today. I thought: "when life gives you crap, make lemonade " and so I wrote her an advertisement that she could use to sell her dung on Ebay.

For Sale:

• One steaming hot pile of crap, found on my doorstep.
• Visible remnants of creamed corn and Salisbury steak.
• Artistically rendered, and sealed for perpetuity with an acrylic glaze.
• All sales are as is, and some crumbling may occur during shipping. The natural crumbling is not a defect as variances in consistency are considered part of the charm of this stage in the circle of life.
• Perfect for Australia Day celebrations. Goes great with Sharpei slobber.
  
• Check out my other fine products at XXEBAYIDXX.
  

pennies don't kill people, people do

I receive many urban legends in my email inbox, mostly from my parents, though sometimes from my Uncle Don (he mostly specializes in videos of people crashing things). I don't mind getting them at all, because I love urban legends. One of my favorites is the one that says you can kill someone if you drop a penny from the Empire State Building.

Though the Mythbusters have all ready proven this couldn't occur, I have first hand evidence. The other day me and this guy almost got hit by one on 33rd Street. It hit with some force, enough to know that neither one of us just dropped it, and it made a few tinny bounces and then rolled off the sidewalk. It came straight down, and I am confident that someone dropped it from the observation deck, this being the height of the tourist season. The scientific nature of my experience won't pass muster, but I can state with confidence that if that penny had hit me I wouldn't have died, though I might have had a slightly more interesting story to tell.

frankenphrase III

Soon I may need to change the title of this site to Things My Mom Said. From two days ago, when telling me I was a lot like my Dad (a compliment, by the way):

You are a chunk off the block.

"redesign" of photo site

I really like the way my photo log looks now. Go take a look.

frankenphrase II

In a comment below my Sister indicates that my Mother recently said:

If life gives you crap make lemonade!

I believe that deserves its own post, don't you?

The whole bunch of us will be spending Christmas in our apartment in the Bronx. HO HO HO!!

frankenphrase

About two weeks ago at a rehearsal I heard someone say, "If anybody is chomping at the seams, they can go next."

my weekend

Snow storms threw my weekend into disarray as I had to all of a sudden jump on a flight to go down to Palm Beach, FL (I'm not complaining) to substitute for the guy that was stuck in Chicago. This in turn reminded me of this funny video showing radar images of planes trying to land around an approaching storm.

customer service

In the last week I have received a range of customer service ranging from blissful to downright scary. In my entry today I will take three and present them to you for you to compare.

Customer Service #1

I'm on call for my job 24 hours a day. That sounds worse than it is, but last Saturday I received a series of calls at home and the resulting action required from me was to receive a fax, fill out a form, and return the fax to the sender. This is normally a simple process.

As I do not own a fax machine, I set about to find a neighborhood establishment that allows customers to use their fax machine for a fee. The man behind the counter was watching television and seemed to be otherwise unoccupied.

"May I pay to use your fax?"

Facial grimace, then "Yes!"

"Your fax number?"

"On the flyer!"

I made a phone call, transferred the number, then waited.

The waiting thing apparently was a problem, as the proprietor's movements became impatient. Pacing, random moving of papers and furniture, and odd jerks of the neck. To diffuse the tension I began to look about the room at the huge variety of wall decorations, which included anything from road signs to Polaroids of stars to posters of Bob Marley to life sized paintings of the proprietor. Almost every inch was covered with something. This may have been perceived as an invasion of privacy by the proprietor who began to throw things short distances.

I made a quick call to my faxer who claimed to have sent the fax. I requested she retry.

This turn of events was clearly unacceptable to the guy behind the counter as all aforementioned movements increased in frequency and rapidity.

Enter customer #2. He has the misfortune having his two scratch-off cards slammed on the counter with rattling force and his money extracted with mugger-like intensity.

After the other customer left, things began to disintergrate rapidly. Furniture began to be kicked and tossed about, and then the proprietor began shouting things like "$#^%$&!!" and "@^%#$^%!!!!!!!!!!". This followed with him informing me that he would be closing for the day.

As I exited the door he was all ready hanging from the security gate as he pulled it down.

Customer Service #2

In the morning hours most every street corner in mid-town is occupied by a coffee cart for people who need breakfast on the run. I love these anyway, but I found one the other day that I heartily endorse (if I could remember its exact location). Suffice to say I've never been asked so many questions about the mixture of my java, even to the point of her holding up a spoon so I could inspect and approve the amount of sugar she was about to add. And, she smiled alot - amazing!

Customer Service #3

A guy sitting across from me on the 2 train was saying all the announcements along with the pre-recorded voice that they use on this line of trains (I prefer the real voices on other trains that I can't understand because I think its more down to earth, and also the 2 train looks like a refrigerator inside which I suppose some people like but I don't). Then, after that he would tell people a bit about each stop, what trains you could transfer to, and then remind them to "stand clear of the closing doors". Technically not customer service, but clearly the man or the voices in his head were just trying to help.

Well, that's it. You can tell I wrote these entries at various times and with various degrees of mental stability, but I'm getting ready to go eat alot of food in a very thankful manner and editing is a luxury.

scared of santa

I'm working on original stuff for this site, but with the current rate of 2 minutes of free time a day, the going is slow. Thank goodness there are web pages with gobs of pictures of kids being scared to death of Santa (please click it, some are borderline classic). Hey, that reminds me of a humorous and mostly true childhood story for later...

i'm singing in public

I haven't done something like this for awhile. I've been assigned music that I've never seen, so this should be interesting. See below for time and place:

Light Opera of New York presents a fantastic array of operetta selections sung by some of New York's finest singers. Hear well-loved arias and rarer gems from the works of Lehar, Offenbach, Herbert, Sullivan, Romberg – and more! Music direction by Paul Chamlin.
  
Tickets: $20; $25 Day of Show
Venue: Leonard Nimoy Thalia

Showtimes:
Nov 29, 2006, 7:30pm
BUY NOW

baby toupees

It is Friday, traditional day of frivolity, and because of this I will revert to my old habit of posting a link to a ridiculous website. Baby Toupees!

new camera

I'm happy to say that I finally got a DSLR. This may not increase the quality of subjects over at BPS, but at least I won't be stingy on megapixels!

overheard in a restaurant

Something tells me this guy needs to raise his standards a bit.

Customer: What is the... (inaudible menu item)?
Waitress: Well, it's like... noodles... with red sauce.
Customer: Sounds good, I'll have that.

screen test

I came across this video, a screen test sent to Stanley Kubrik by a young actor, while looking at Boing Boing. Wow.

no one pays attention here

New York is not a good place to live if you are starving for
attention. You can do almost anything you want, in a public place, and
no one will give you the time of day. In the past I've used as an
example the time I saw a man take his pants off at the corner of 8th
Avenue and 42nd Street and wave them around in a modern dance to music
that only he could hear. People walked by with little more than a
glance his direction.

On any given week, you can see more examples of this phenomenon. For
instance, on Monday a man boarded the train at 225th, sat down, poured
himself a bowl of cereal (granola), doused it with milk, and using a
spoon from his pocket began to crunch away. No one cared.

Another morning a man wearing military issue green drab and a canvas
hat sporting twelve-inch pheasant feathers strode onto the train at
59th Street and began to tweet. He tweeted just like a bird, in fact
like many kinds of birds. He started with songbirds, then moved on to
crows, and then to parrots. When he did the parrot imitation, he also
flapped his arms. The girl across from me smiled for a split second,
but besides that, he got no response for his effort. I wish I could
have made that cricket noise that people in showbiz often do to
indicate an act that died, because it would have been funny, given the
whole animal theme. No one would have laughed, of course.

vacanza

Sandy and I just got back from our third vacation (counting our Honeymoon but not counting Family Holiday visits) in over 12 years of marriage. We made up for the non-frequency by making it the longest one either of us had ever taken. It was great.

I came back with:

• Something resembling a suntan on my face and forearms
• Hundreds and hundreds of photos
• A gazillion frequent flyer miles
• 12 extra lbs and a vague memory of a concept known as "cardiovascular"
• Stuff for us
• Stuff for others
• Football withdrawal
  
• A desire to actually take advantage of the fact that I live in NYC and get out and do something
• A major creative urge
• Terrific memories
  

Somehow the airlines managed to lose our luggage on our way to both Hong Kong and Singapore. Everytime I've flown to an Asian country my luggage has gotten lost. Hmm.

get ready

You think that I don't write on here very much? Well, get ready folks. I'm not going to write on this site with such volume that you will be amazed. The amount of words that I will not post will drown you, they will overwhelm you, they will inundate you. In the next three weeks you will not be able to read all the things that I don't write on this page if you had all the time in the world. I'm going to set the world record for things not written. You just watch.

strange but true

For some reason this site comes up as the number one result on Ask.com when you type in the following search term: "gag email forward where you stare at the screen for a minute and a scary picture pops up." Very curious.

parrots

I'm in San Francisco for awhile. Today I finally got to look around and ended up running up the steepest sidewalk I've ever seen. At the top of this hill I could see alot: Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, Treasure Island, and loads of those townhouses they have around here. The micro-climates are amazing; there is a constant stream of weather conditions streaking across the sky. While at the top of this particular hill, I saw a flock of wild parrots (mostly cherry-headed conures). I had heard of them before, after seeing the documentary The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill (BNN recommended viewing). They obviously aren't indigenous to SF, if you watch the film you'll hear various local theories as to how they got to be here. Anyway, it was thrilling to see them.

I went back to get my camera and the weather got gray, but after dark I had fun with long exposures. I'll put them up on the picture site sometime.

nano nap

dueling adjectives

Last night, while listening to an infomercial I heard the host effusively say, "Wouldn't it feel good to feel great?" That made me feel dizzy.

Unrelated: Three pictures

emerging from the carpal tunnel

It's 95 and humid and I've just spent two hours posting and then cutting and pasting code all over the place. This is going to take forever, this is why this is a mess.

UPDATE: It's almost not a mess anymore, just a handful of pictures still missing.

While I'm at it, look at this picture.

inefficient writing

I started writing an entry this weekend where I dealt humorously with a
certain characteristic of people that are in my profession. It was getting
quite long and it was then I realized this was due to my trying to explain
why I'm not exactly like these same people. The problem is, though I'm
ashamed of it, I am like these same people more than I would like to admit
(if not exactly). I edited it down to truthfulness and found that it had
become so short as to not be worth putting up at all. So I just put up this
picture.

what am i thinking

I made up another joke even more moronic than the other one. To force myself to produce something of quality for this site, I'm going to post it. The shame that I feel will act as a motivator to my creative juices.

Doctor #1: I've cut myself badly. It is clear that I'll meet an untimely end if I do not stem the massive crimson tide that is my blood.

Doctor #2: I would be happy to stitch that up for you, seeing how you are going into convulsions and have begun to foam at the mouth.

Doctor #1: No thanks, I'm a bit of a loner, and feel that this is something that I must do alone.

Doctor #2: *Suture self.*

*As with all my other incredibly stupid jokes, you have to highlight between the asterisks to receive your "reward."

one tough nyc squirrel

I saw a squirrel carrying a portuguese roll up a tree today.
Just wanted to get that on the record.

chicken transformed

I can't remember what motivated me to do this, but I took something I wrote awhile ago and put it into the lost in translation thing to see what would happen. This "translator" takes an English language paragraph and translates it into another language, then back to English, then to another language, then back to English, etc. The results can be pretty funny - though in this case after the German portion it broke down.

Original English Text:
Today I saw a chicken walking up 9th Avenue. He was very tired, so he sat down on a metal door in the sidewalk beside a couple of Mexican guys. They thought the chicken was hilarious. I thought he was pretty funny myself.

Translated to French:
Aujourd'hui j'ai vu un poulet marcher vers le haut de la 9ème avenue.
Il était très fatigué, ainsi il s'est assis sur une porte en métal
dans le trottoir près d'un couple des types mexicains. Ils ont pensé
que le poulet était hilare. J'ai pensé qu'il était assez drôle
moi-même.

Translated back to English:
Today I saw a chicken walking to the top of the 9th avenue. It was
very tired, thus it sat down on a metal gate in the pavement close to
a couple of the Mexican types. They thought that the chicken was
hilarious. I thought that it was rather funny myself.

Translated to German:
Heute sah ich ein Huhn, zur Oberseite der 9. Allee zu gehen. Sie war
sehr müde, so saß sie auf einem Metallgatter in der Plasterung nah
an einem Paar der mexikanischen Typen hin. Sie dachten, daß das Huhn
urkomisch war. Ich dachte, daß es selbst ziemlich lustig war.

Translated back to English:
Today I saw a chicken, to the top side of the 9. To go avenue. It was
very tired, then it sat on a metal gate in the Plasterung near at a
pair of the Mexican types. They thought that the chicken was
urkomisch. I thought that it was rather merry.

infLequRentRy

I don't know anyone who pines on pins and needles for me write things here, but if you do... well, please don't.

For more action, check here in the upcoming week or two for recent pictures of Tokyo . Most will depart from my predisposition to black and white, because that place can be crazy colorful at times.

should have dug a tunnel

Flew so far yesterday that I think we started coming back. Had the shocker of feeling a poke in the back of my arm during the flight and was aghast to see an object much in need of Lamisil. Within seconds an unused pillow had been jammed in the gap.

My luggage is also lost, which meant a quick trip out last night to case the area for substitute clothing should my suit case not arrive in time for the day's activities. I've found that I'm now classified as Big and Tall, which is a first for sure.

Lots of people are bowing and I've seen Engrish everywhere, so I'll be keeping my camera at the ready for fodder for my other site.

my television debut

I grew up in a small city, one small enough that they announce the cafeteria lunch menus of local schools on the radio as a public service. It was large enough to have a television station, and to this day they insist on having Local News at 11, complete with all the high school sports highlights. And at least one year, they had the area school choirs perform Christmas concerts on live television. This is the story of my TV debut, a tale so traumatizing it doubtless would have killed any desire within me to ever become a singer if I had wanted to become one at the time.

I went to a small Christian School. My choir participation was forced, for a time by my parents, but I also seem to remember it being tied one's ability to play sports as well. Either way, the only proper attitude for a boy in my school to have was to hate choir (whether you actually did or not) and make the best of it by showing off for the girls whenever the Director wasn't looking your direction.

Which brings me to the music Director of my first televised performance. I think that directing our school choir must have been pretty stressful, because I can remember a few of them came and went during the time I was in there. I can't remember the name of the Director in this story, but her image is burned into my mind to this very day. She was pleasantly plump, sported a large permanent wave, and had the habit of wearing dark, slightly-too-tight paisley patterned dresses. These dresses unfortunately showcased her overactive sweat glands as the stains under each arm grew larger and larger during our performances.

We arrived on Television Hill and crammed our hot, polyester clothed bodies into the WHIZ studio. We were all understandably nervous as was the custom in the town in which I grew up. It was an expected character trait of all citizens that they shun the limelight at all costs; every public compliment was expected to be met with vigorous blushing and embarrassed protests.

We had prepared a Christmas Cantata, and it was a doozy. It felt like it took about 2 hours to perform. I had the embarrassing lot of being put on the front row, a by-product of my miniature size at the time, and I was very conscious of the fact that my knees were shaking throughout the performance. During commercial breaks I would think that I had gotten the situation under control, only to fall victim to a new outbreak of the shakes when the light on the TV camera came back on. I decided to take drastic measures and lock my knees.

Locking ones knees was a cardinal sin in our choir. Next to messing around with your tie or stomping on the riser there was nothing worse you could do. "If you lock your knees, you'll pass out" was an oft heard quote, spoken in the same tone of voice as, "You'll shoot your eyes out!"

But, desperate times called for disparate measures. I locked my knees resolutely and focused my energies on getting through the last third of the cantata. I was doing pretty well until I noticed colorful little dots around the edges of my vision. They were fascinating for awhile until I noticed that they were increasingly intruding on my sight lines. In fact, in a short while they began to advance in earnest on my Choir Director. I began to panic and in a effort to distract I forced myself to concentrate on the humor derived from my Director's sweaty pits, but nothing worked. The last thing I remember was my entire field of vision being a rainbow of blinking lights, with my Directors smiling face in the center, desperately trying to demonstrate how we should emote.

The next thing I remember is one of the mothers dragging me across the floor past the TV camera.

The fallout was pretty intense. I heard the lectures about knee locking, and also had to endure the results of a new invention: the Beta Video tape. This forced me to watch myself sway and collapse many a time thanks to the handy rewind feature. At the time, I secretly wished for the destruction of that tape, though now I would treasure a copy if I could find one.

superpowers

Yesterday I went see X-Men. After the movie, one of our group indicated that if he could have a superpower he would prefer to be able to shoot chocolate pudding out of his nose. He later amended his wish to be chocolate pudding out of one side and tapioca out of the other. His theory was that after a long day of crime fighting all the other superheros might enjoy a snack. At that point the conversation devolved into a discussion about snot and nose hairs and other things that one could potentially find in pudding that was shot out of a superhero's nose. We finally concluded that the massive force and volume of pudding that could be generated by one endued with superpowers would probably also eradicate any nose hairs or snot residue.

surprise for the tourists

They were squirting water off the top of the building that now obscures our view of the East River. We were debating whether or not the water made it all the way to the street or simply became so vaporized that no one noticed. A quick check at coffee break made it quite clear that for about a 30 foot stretch of sidewalk on 33rd St. there were some very surprised pedestrians.

hervé villechaize asks a question

And it's a good question, Herve. Why do people have to fight?

If you've got to have more, click here.

movie quote / real life

I was sitting in my hotel room watching a movie. In this movie, a nun sitting on a bus said, "We just passed Travers City."

The crazy thing was... (wait for it)...

I was in Travers City at that very moment! DUHN, Duhn, duhhhhnn!!!

advice to comment spammers

Dear Comment Spammers,

A word of advice: there is a much better chance of you getting your advertisment posted in the comment section of one of my blog entries if you didn't call yourself names like bezdar1 or ppionerka. I know it may come as a shock to you, but those are not normally recognized names in my country.

Best wishes on selling lots of Vliargara.

Sincerely,

Brad Wilson

my dad kissed a pig

My Dad does a lot of creative things at his school to motivate his students to improve their grades and achievement test scores. I think one time he let them bury him in shaving cream when they had reached a yearly goal.

But what he does is much more than funny stunts things to reward kids for doing well in school. He has developed a program called the Power of S.M.A.R.T. which helps students clearly see their improvement so they can feel a sense of achievement and allows the teachers to track the effect their teaching has on how well kids do on their tests. After the kids are done with a test, the teachers get immediate feedback as to what concepts seemed to be a problem for most of the students, and that shows them areas of their teaching that isn't hitting home and can be improved.

The students improvement since he started doing this program is incredible and the program isn't expensive to implement in schools. Anyone in the government listening?

cross linking & blatant wasting

Click here for a picture of something.

Funniest thing happened yesterday at LaGuardia. As I struggled to open the little tubs of half & half for my coffee, this professionally dressed young many sidled up to the trash can and started fishing through his pockets. Once he had extracted all his change, he carefully separated and threw away any coin worth less than a quarter. After finishing that, he reached in his other pocket and drew out a brand new pack of Tic-Tacs. He unsealed them, popped three or four of into his mouth, and then disposed of the rest of the container in the bin!

i feel better now

Wow, I was in quite a mood yesterday, wasn't I? Good thing I know how to delete stuff.

Look! A strangely menacing puppy!!

i need to get out more

This is the funniest movie trailer I've ever seen. The movie has only been out since 2002, so it's easy to see why I've missed it. Brother.

UPDATE: Link from You Tube, just to be safe.

jfk quote

I absolutely love this quote, and not just when applied to politics. I've always hated it when people criticize the efforts of others while they do nothing to effect any positive change themselves.

There will always be dissident voices heard in the land, expressing opposition without alternatives, finding fault but never favor, perceiving gloom on every side and seeking influence without responsibility.
-John F. Kennedy

This comes from the Remarks Prepared for Delivery at the Trade Mart in Dallas - November 22, 1963 which President Kennedy never had the chance to deliver.

good for him!

I hope I look this good and still feel like working when I'm a centurian!

Herb Hamrol, 103, answers questions while stocking shelves at Andronico's Market in San Francisco, Thursday, March 30, 2006. Hamrol is among a handful of survivors of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake who were toddlers or in utero during 'The Big One.' Their numbers have dwindled to the point where their longevity is nearly as remarkable as the catastrophe that defined their early years. Organizers of an annual dawn wreath-laying at Lotta's Fountain, a landmark that served as a meeting point for those trying to find families and friends after the disaster, are expecting a maximum of 20 survivors at the centennial commemoration. But it's possible only a dozen could show up.(AP Photo/Jeff Chiu)

overheard in 10 seconds

Two loud and odd questions heard in a 10 ft stretch of Broadway today

• From an ulta-skinny guy wearing purposefully patchwork clothing of high fashion aspiration (shouting into a cell phone): "Well... have you ever thought about the... PARROT?!"
• From a homeless guy with cart overflowing (while banging on the back of a phone booth): "ENCHANTMENT! EN-CHANT-MENT!! Anyone ever heard of that?!!"
  

i'm on amazon

I haven't mentioned it, but I've sung on 4 commercially available recordings. But anyway, a chance meeting with an old friend caused me to look on Amazon for a cast recording of an album in which I played a role. When I looked at it more closely I noticed I'm the only performer with a name listed - HA! Maybe I benefited from an alphabetical listing?


Click the image if you want. The album I'm talking about is the second one down.

singular event

On Wednesday of next week, at two minutes and three seconds after 1:00
in the morning, the time and date will be:

01:02:03 04/05/06

That won't happen again until the year 3006, which is a good deal of time from now.

oh, the horror of it all

I think we can all agree that packing materials can be scary substances. Maybe not as scary as mannequins or Rip Taylor, but scary nonetheless. Nothing, however, approaches the terror of the night that Styrofoam came to life! Muuwahahahahahhaaah!!

It happened on this wise. I had just crested the hill where 231st meets Kingsbridge and I was immediately buffeted by a wind that was both violent in force and full of stinging particles. The pressure was XLerator-like in its intensity.

I began walking down the hill, opposite a shopping center that features among other things my favorite little store, Kalinka. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a man staggering on the edge of the curb across the street. Just as I turned, he fell into the oncoming path of a truck! Kabloom!! He exploded into a mass of white chunks and scattered across the two lanes. It was then I realized he was not a man, but a massive block of Styrofoam™. Then, falling like trees, the remaining 6 foot towers crashed in the street. It was a strange sort of carnage as each one was obliterated by oncoming traffic.

My nerves were a bit twitchy as I continued my walk home. About the time that I got to the dress shop owned by the insane Asian woman I was startled by a couple of packing peanuts that rounded the corner by the Veterinary hospital. They looked at me for a second, and then started running toward me, followed by about 1 million of their minions. It was truly terrifying and reminded me of an army of very tiny rabbits hopping madly in unison. Then I looked around and saw that the entire block was full of them, tiny little blobs of white running around in perfect unison up and down 231st St. Weaker willed men might have soiled their pants, like my friend David when he thought he saw a bear in Canada when we were kids, but not me. No sir. Where the living dead packing peanuts went after that, I'll never know, but I made it home, panting and relieved to be alive.

woody quote

Woody Allen - "If my films make one more person miserable, I'll feel I have done my job."

i'm happy, so happy, walking on air

This site is finally all hosted on Nearlyfreespeech.net (thanks, Dave!). I'm so happy about this, as it gives me complete freedom over the storage of images, files, and no limits are imposed on me as long as I keep my account topped off. I'm drunk with power.

Just to show off my freedom to load files with reckless abandon, here is a file of me singing I've Got the World on a String. Go ahead and click on it. I dare you.

on allergies, sneezing, and placebos

In order to bounce the lame post about hand dryers from the top of this site I've decided to publicly discuss my struggle with seasonal allergies.

In keeping with my tradition of late blooming, I developed allergies after age 16. No foods, thankfully, but many airborne plant substances cause me to collapse into a fit of sneezing. A particularly vicious pine pollen attack effected my record of 11 sneezes achieved in 1991.

Nothing is more embarrassing to me than shooting a handful of snot into my outstretched hand or onto a friends lapel. Because of this I developed a singular sneezing technique that allows me to minimize the volume of germy gelatinous projectiles. To describe the technique would be pushing the threshold of boring, but suffice it to say that my sneezes sound an awful lot like coughs.

Why don't I go to the allergist? I used to, but during my twenties when I didn't have insurance I decided to stop going and was surprised to find that my symptoms were no worse for it. In fact, I avoid taking over the counter medications unless absolutely necessary, due to my phobia of becoming dependant on anything.

Recently I believe I have become the victim of the reverse placebo affect*, as I was told by someone that Claritin is barely more effective than a placebo in blind tests. Since I heard that news Claritin won't make a dent in my sternutation.

*the term reverse placebo affect is copyright of BNN - Baritone News Network 2006. All rights reserved. Failure to pay BNN at least a million bucks for even verbalizing this phrase will result in a large glob of gooey green mucous being lobbed in your general direction.

endorsement

My disdain for bathroom hand-dryers is well documented. Because of this I was quite surprised to find one that actually works! The only place I've ever found these has been at JFK, but I'm pleased enough with this product to give it BNN's first product endorcement. The XLERATOR should be installed in every public restroom in America. The gale force winds it generated almost sprained my wrists.

regular, organic, and frankenfruit

I found this fascinating:

"The sticker labels on fruit: The numbers tell you how the fruit was grown. Conventionally grown fruit has four digits; organically grown fruit has five and starts with a nine; genetically engineered has five numbers and starts with an eight."

Original Link & More info.

spam

I realize that I'm not treading new ground here, but I happened to look at one of the spam emails that came in today and couldn't help but being amused by one that came from one Quadrupled K. Bayes. In addition to offering me "Vliragra" for the bargain price of $3.30 he even ended the email with some pithy sayings:

Children and fools tell the truth.
Actions speak louder than words.
A mother's love changes never.

the original perfect hamburger

The sign said The Original Perfect Hamburger. This piqued my attention as I am a lover of hamburgers, especially flawless ones. Inspired by the gusty name choice, I decided to give them a try for lunch.

As my eyes adjusted to the interior light I began to notice an abundance of red vinyl, red plastic poinsettias, and red painted surfaces. Then I saw plates of oranges stacked about and paper lamps hanging from little trees growing in pots on the counter. It was then that I looked more closely at the counter sign and noticed that the complete name of this restaurant was The Original Perfect Hamburger – American and Chinese Food.

As I contemplated this incongruity I was greeted by a short, stoic Asian man. He ushered me to a table whose surface covered with yet more poinsettias. Tinny string instruments accompanying a tuneless warbling soprano played on the stereo as I studied the menu and considered whether I should select a cheeseburger or chow mein.

About that time another customer entered. He had extremely large feet for his size, an impression compounded by the fact that he had 3 inch rubber orthopedic additions fused to his heels. He had just been to the drug store and had with him a plastic bag brimming with prescriptions. He took full advantage of the flexible bill of fare by ordering a grilled cheese sandwich on wheat ("use the white cheese") and then a variety of Chinese dishes, all while bemoaning the fact that they didn't serve tofu.

Ultimately I tried to straddle both culinary schools, ordering a Teriyaki cheeseburger with sautéed onions, a clumsy attempt at Asian fusion. My verdict: tasty, but claims of perfection may be overstated. When you are next in San Francisco I suggest you go down to Geary Street and have one with a side order of mixed vegetables.

crapulous

Before I read the particulars of the "Word of the Day" below, I would have assumed that "crapulous" was an extremely negative way of expressing the feeling of being incredulous. But, I guess you really can learn something new everyday.

*

Word of the Day for Saturday March 11, 2006

crapulous \KRAP-yuh-lus\, adjective:
1. Suffering the effects of, or derived from, or suggestive of gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous stomach.
2. Marked by gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous old reprobate.

These were the dregs of their celebratory party: the half-filled glasses, the cold beans and herring, the shouts and smells of the crapulous strangers hemming them in on every side, the dead rinsed-out April night and the rain drooling down the windows.
-- T. Coraghessan Boyle, Riven Rock

The crapulous life which her future successor led.
-- Lord Brougham, Historical Sketches of Statesmen in the Time of George III

The new money was spent in so much riotous living, and from end to end there settled on the country a mood of fretful, crapulous irritation.
-- Stephen McKenna, Sonia

Crapulous is from Late Latin crapulosus, from Latin crapula, from Greek kraipale, drunkenness and its consequences, nausea, sickness, and headache.

soy norteamericano

This past weekend I happily eclipsed a personal milestone - I finally went to Mexico. In fact, until just a couple of years ago I'd never even been to Canada, which is odd considering I grew up in a state just across lake Erie.

Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed struggling to communicate, trying different very rich foods, people watching, and singing at a wedding. The private home at which we performed was amazingly designed and sat on a property filled with interesting features that I don't have time to completely describe. The father of the bride had at least three peacocks that he kept as pets. They usually had the run of his property, but during all the hubbub they could only find peace by staying up on the roof of the house. Quite a sight to see a peacock strutting around up there with his plumage on full display; it reminded me of a living satellite dish. I can't remember what the Spanish word for peacock is, but it's roughly translated "royal turkey". I like that.

I was dismayed on the way home to discover that the two movies I had brought to watch on my laptop were not playable. Ladykillers had arrived in two pieces, and War of the Shaolin Temple was in the War of the Worlds envelope. Weird, huh? Blockbuster Online had better get its act together.

Kind of off subject: You may be wondering why I was singing at a wedding in Mexico. I don't talk much about my job, but if you are curious you can visit this site. I'm the General Manager of the U.S. office.

cat

overheard in the east village

While lugging my suitcase from a falafel joint toward the subway I passed a group of 40-somethings that were desperate to cling to their youths amid the hipster tide that was washing over them.

One man to the others: "I OD'd once in a beauty shop. If it's white and it's on the table, I'm sniffin' it!"

Sad, on several levels.

don knotts is dead

This one really makes me sad. I still watch the Andy Griffith show all the time, and the other night I was wondering how much longer Barney would be around.










Yahoo article bio below (for after they break the link):

Don Knotts, TV's Lovable Nerd, Dies at 81

By JEREMIAH MARQUEZ, Associated Press Writer Sat Feb 25, 6:59 PM ET

LOS ANGELES -
Don Knotts, the skinny, lovable nerd who kept generations of television audiences laughing as bumbling Deputy Barney Fife on "The Andy Griffith Show," has died. He was 81.

Knotts died Friday night of pulmonary and respiratory complications at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills, said Paul Ward, a spokesman for the cable network TV Land, which airs "The Andy Griffith Show," and another Knotts hit, "Three's Company."

Unspecified health problems had forced him to cancel an appearance in his native Morgantown in August 2005.

The West Virginia-born actor's half-century career included seven TV series and more than 25 films, but it was the Griffith show that brought him TV immortality and five Emmies.

The show ran from 1960-68, and was in the top 10 of the Nielsen ratings each season, including a No. 1 ranking its final year. It is one of only three series in TV history to bow out at the top: The others are "I Love Lucy" and "Seinfeld." The 249 episodes have appeared frequently in reruns and have spawned a large, active network of fan clubs.

As the bug-eyed deputy to Griffith, Knotts carried in his shirt pocket the one bullet he was allowed after shooting himself in the foot. The constant fumbling, a recurring sight gag, was typical of his self-deprecating humor.

Knotts, whose shy, soft-spoken manner was unlike his high-strung characters, once said he was most proud of the Fife character and doesn't mind being remembered that way.

His favorite episodes, he said, were "The Pickle Story," where Aunt Bea makes pickles no one can eat, and "Barney and the Choir," where no one can stop him from singing.

"I can't sing. It makes me sad that I can't sing or dance well enough to be in a musical, but I'm just not talented in that way," he lamented. "It's one of my weaknesses."

Knotts appeared on six other television shows. In 1979, Knotts replaced Norman Fell on "Three's Company," playing the would-be swinger landlord to John Ritter,
Suzanne Somers and Joyce DeWitt.

Early in his TV career, he was one of the original cast members of "The Steve Allen Show," the comedy-variety show that ran from 1956-61. He was one of a group of memorable comics backing Allen that included Louis Nye, Tom Poston and Bill "Jose Jimenez" Dana.

Knotts' G-rated films were family fun, not box-office blockbusters. In most, he ends up the hero and gets the girl — a girl who can see through his nervousness to the heart of gold.

In the part-animated 1964 film "The Incredible Mr. Limpet," Knotts played a meek clerk who turns into a fish after he is rejected by the Navy.

When it was announced in 1998 that Jim Carrey would star in a "Limpet" remake, Knotts responded: "I'm just flattered that someone of Carrey's caliber is remaking something I did. Now, if someone else did Barney Fife, THAT would be different."

In the 1967 film "The Reluctant Astronaut," co-starring Leslie Nielsen, Knotts' father enrolls his wimpy son — operator of a Kiddieland rocket ride — in NASA's space program. Knotts poses as a famous astronaut to the joy of his parents and hometown but is eventually exposed for what he really is, a janitor so terrified of heights he refuses to ride an airplane.

In the 1969 film "The Love God?," he was a geeky bird-watcher who is duped into becoming publisher of a naughty men's magazine and then becomes a national sex symbol. Eventually, he comes to his senses, leaves the big city and marries the sweet girl next door.

He was among an army of comedians from Buster Keaton to Jonathan Winters to liven up the 1963 megacomedy "It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World." Other films include "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken" (1966); "The Shakiest Gun in the West," (1968); and a few Disney films such as "The Apple Dumpling Gang," (1974); "Gus," (1976); and "Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo," (1977).

In 1998, he had a key role in the back-to-the-past movie "Pleasantville," playing a folksy television repairman whose supercharged remote control sends a teen boy and his sister into a TV sitcom past.

Knotts began his show biz career even before he graduated from high school, performing as a ventriloquist at local clubs and churches. He majored in speech at West Virginia University, then took off for the big city.

"I went to New York cold. On a $100 bill. Bummed a ride," he recalled in a visit to his hometown of Morgantown, where city officials renamed a street for him in 1998.

Within six months, Knotts had taken a job on a radio Western called "Bobby Benson and the B-Bar-B Riders," playing a wisecracking, know-it-all handyman. He stayed with it for five years, then came his series TV debut on "The Steve Allen Show."

He married Kay Metz in 1948, the year he graduated from college. The couple had two children before divorcing in 1969. Knotts later married, then divorced Lara Lee Szuchna.

In recent years, he said he had no plans to retire, traveling with theater productions and appearing in print and TV ads for Kodiak pressure treated wood.

The world laughed at Knotts, but it also laughed with him.

He treasured his comedic roles and could point to only one role that wasn't funny, a brief stint on the daytime drama "Search for Tomorrow."

"That's the only serious thing I've done. I don't miss that," Knotts said.

dame edna quotes

I've never seen Dame Edna perform, but these quotes cracked me up.

My mother used to say that there are no strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. She's now in a maximum security twilight home in Australia.
-Dame Edna Everage

Never be afraid to laugh at yourself, after all, you could be missing out on the joke of the century.
-Dame Edna Everage

my pizza is spic and span

Hey, guess what! The place in New York where they serve my favorite pizza was the only place in my neighborhood that got a perfect score from the Health Department during a recent inspection. I celebrated with two non-germy slices.

my friend's doppelgänger

Based on the definition below, I'm not sure if the term doppelgänger applies, but I keep on seeing this person on the 2 train that looks like a friend of mine. She looks so much like her that the first time I saw her I started talking to her about old times - which she obviously didn't understand. I see her about once a month and it freaks me out everytime.

Definition of doppelgänger
NOUN:
A ghostly double of a living person, especially one that haunts its fleshly counterpart.
ETYMOLOGY:
German, a double : doppel, double (from French double; see double ) + G�nger, goer (from Gang, a going, from Middle High German ganc, from Old High German

websites all changed

Just a quick update to friends and family who read this site, as I doubt at this point anyone else is reading it.

I was really really sick for the last week, starting last Sunday when I was in Houston, TX. I spent most of that day in bed so I could perform that night (in an art musuem!), and then was down most of the next week after I got home, going into the office only on Friday. When I was toward the end of it, I decided to take my extra time and revamp my websites, and that is why you are reading a new site (if you managed to find it).

• So, this is my new website
• This is my new blog (you are all ready here)
  
• This is my new photoblog
• This is my del.icio.us links page (where I'll put anything interesting I find on the net - funny videos, links, etc). There are several pages of links here.
  
• My old blog no longer works.

I'm learning alot about how websites work, in particular DNS settings. I've got a few more changes left to go, which will change the web addresses on my blogs one last time, and if I do, I'll give plenty of warning.

nashville man

Just a few hours ago I had lunch in an Italian-themed restaurant in Nashville, TN. I handed the cashier my credit card, and when she gave me my receipt I asked her, "If I leave the tip on here, does the server ever really know that I tipped her? I've always wondered about that; I don't want her to think I was cheap."

From behind me I heard, "Oh, they know, they've seen it all." I turned to observe a pleasant looking, spectacle sporting bald man. He asked me, "You from Ohio?" Surprised at his accuracy, I told him that I was originally from Zanesville, OH but now live in the Bronx.

He then said, "My kids could tell you all the New York boroughs before they were 3 years old. They also know all the Canadian provinces, from west to east and east to west, including the capitals."

Then, he walked away.

overheard in the tsa line

As I approached the ID checkpoint at the gateway into the metal detectors at La Guardia I saw the female guard gesticulating energetically to a co-worker that was standing beside her. As I got closer I heard her repeat, "I was just doing my job, I was just doing my job!!" She waved me through with not so much as a glance at my ticket or driver's license.

Then while in line I stood in front of a couple who were extremely pleased with themselves for some reason and talked loudly enough that everyone could share this feeling with them. I can now only remember one of the many gems. She: "What's your sister up to?" He: "She works alot... she got a new cell phone... her friend smokes pot."

black eye

Visual proof of the far reaching, tragic effects of the recent NYC Transit Strike can be seen in the above photo with explanitorial details being found here. Reactions from the public has ranged from shock to laughter to curious questions. My favorite: "Can I look at your eye for a little bit? I'm in an acting class and I need to know how to make a realistic black eye with makeup."

transit strike

This, like many things posted here in the past few days are transfers from my old blog, so the date stamp is wrong:

Well, an interesting 24 hours has past. Here are some facts, in bullet point form:

• They are still on strike.
• We slept in my office last night.
• While walking before dinner we went by Grand Central Station (the station we would have used if we had attemted to go home), and it was mobbed. I'm talking a human moat of people surrounding the place at least 20 feet deep, just waiting to get in. Cuhrazy, man.
• Walked about the city for about 1.5 hours.
• While sleeping on the floor last night I began to feel super physical distress with symptoms of all kinds competing for my attention. I decided a trip to the rest room was necessary, and against Sandy's wishes I stumbled out into the 40th floor hallway in my socks to make my way down one floor to the restroom that works. This was followed by more stumbling, dropping of things, fainting, and an ungraceful conking of my head on the terrazzo flooring which caused an instant golfball to form somewhere around my right temporal and frontal lobes.
• I blame the transit strike for that last point.

woah, baby!

bravo! or swallowing food is the bomb

I was surprised to get a call last week from a casting director from Bravo who wanted to know if I was acquainted with these people, whose picture has generated a healthy amount of hits for BNN recently. I wish I knew who they were, as I could become their agent and get a slice of the reality TV pie. But alas, I don't and suspect that photoshop may have been employed anyway.

If I had more time I would tell you about how the day after Thanksgiving I got a piece of venison stuck in my throat for five days and couldn't eat anything and eventually couldn't even drink anything and then I had to go to the emergency room and then after had to go to Roosevelt to have an ambulatory operation where they put me under and then blew up a balloon in my chest which made me quite sore inside but now at least I'm not going to starve to death and can you imagine if this had been during the pioneer days because I would have been a goner for sure. But, I don't have time to tell you that.

john daker

Any one who has sung in front of people must agree that forgetting the lyrics to a song is a truly scary experience. I will never forget splicing together verses of a Shurbert song so randomly that if any of the contest judges were paying attention to the German they probably heard something like, "The wind in your hair is the light of my march along the cottage of the howling dog's death, my dear Mother!" or something like that.

But I digress. Forgetting lyrics is scary. For that reason, and to help you remember that there must be some reason why you occasionally point your browser to this site, I give you this wonderful link.

UPDATE: John Daker is his name. He even has his own Wikipedia entry. Here are a few must-clicks: the FAQ page (a must see), the page with all the soloists from the show, and the reunion concert - complete with facial expressions.

real and funny

circumspection

I was riding in a taxi westbound on 33rd St. when I saw something that had both me and the driver laughing.

We were cruising at about 3.5 mph when we drew close to a UPS truck, where the driver was standing in the back, explaining the virtues of his handheld shipping gadget to a man who stood on the street below. "This thing is great", he said. "I can tell where the packages have been, where they are going, who signed for them and when they signed. I can tell pretty much everything with this. Nothings gets by me anymore."

The conversation faded as we slid down the length of the van and arrived at the front, where an NYPD officer was busily scribbling the truck's license number down into his ticket book.

overheard on the radio

Something I heard on ESPN 1050 radio the other night: When talking about a certain wide receiver that often sacrifices his body by making catches over the middle, one commentator said, "(He'd better be careful) He'll make both of his parents widows!!"

laugh line

There are several inherent dangers associated with only getting 4 hours of sleep in a night. One of these dangers is seeing humor in things that may not be humorous. I believe this happened to me the other day.

While waiting for a flight I picked up the sports section of a discarded Canadian newspaper and leafed through to find an oddly placed obituary section. In this section there was an article outlining the life of a man whose bravery in the face of adversity was only overshadowed by his lasting contribution to society. I should have read the entire article so that I could acquaint myself with the historical ramifications of his life and therefore be inspired to go out and do great things myself.

But unfortunately, due to the aforementioned sleep depravation, I just read the following headline and chuckled at the writer’s attempt to distill this man into seven words:

He escaped the Nazis and invented Valium

male pattern strangeness

The other day I saw a man with a goatee on his forehead. We were on a bus, across from each other, so I was able to observe him for some time while he complained to his companion about how irresponsible his daughter had become.

As I watched him, I thought mostly about what the motivation might have been for him to grow a small, triangular beard on his forehead. He otherwise had what I've heard called "male pattern baldness", with a ring of hair on three sides of his head, and shiny skin on top. But right in the center of the top of his forehead, all alone, was this carefully cultivated patch of brown hair that was obviously cleaned, combed, and possible even conditioned.

Is it possible that he was simply celebrating his lot in life, relishing the fact that his DNA had left his skull in this situation? Based on his conversational tone, I thought not. I finally decided it was more likely that his goatee was instead an act of defiance, a commitment to never give up until his final follicle had died and released its grip on the last strand of dead protein. Kind of like those old Japanese guys they keep finding in foxholes on little tropical islands that don't know the war is over.

wwf meets lincoln center

The other day I was walking through security at the Atlanta airport holding a very large photo of Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo, and Jose Carreras posing with three other guys. One of the metal detector professionals stopped me and said, "Hey man, is that Captain Lou Albano?!"

With no offense intended to either one of these gentlemen or their fans, I post the following comparo-photos so you can judge the visual acuity of my friend from the TSA.

frustration

I just saw a guy sitting on a bench outside my building wearing shiny, black rubber clothing from head to toe. He had shoes with soles that were twelve inches thick. His hair was sculpted to freakish spikey heights by pounds of hair polymer that was challenging the supporting capacity of his little neck.

Why didn't I bring my camera to work today?

numb, insensitive, unfeeling

So, the other day a bunch of tree surgeons started cutting down a tree in the courtyard of my apartment building. Unlike many courtyards in New York, ours is attractive, with flowers, trees, flowering trees, and a fountain with a metal frog on top. Because I find our courtyard attractive I began to think of how sad it was that this tree was being sacrificed, and each buzzzz, crraack, whoossh, and thudd landed like a blow to my conscience. I thought to myself, "Why do humans do these things to poor defenseless creatures? What is the motivation for such cruelty?"

I couldn't think of an answer, so I just finished my veal and started on the dishes.

the most embarrased guy in the world

two lives

I guess it's time I got around to writing about how I saved two lives in one day without risking a hair on my head.

A couple of weeks ago, on a Tuesday morning, I was running up Riverdale Avenue gasping ultra-humid air when I saw a parakeet walking down the sidewalk. I ran past him, and then I realized that parakeets usually don't walk down sidewalks in the Bronx, so I stopped and went back to get a closer look.

The area where we were is a very narrow one, with an apartment building to the left, a sidewalk running along side it, then a narrow street bordered on the right by a retaining wall. I realized that I needed to catch this little guy or he was going to become a parakeet pancake.

He was tame enough for me to approach him and talk to him, but agile enough to escape each time I tried to grab him. I crawled up and down the sidewalk while he bounced and flitted and screeched his displeasure. At one point I thought I had him trapped in the doorway of the parking garage when the door opened and I found myself looking up at the bumper of an impatient SUV.

Finally, I was able to secure the services of a local resident with a copy of the New York Post. While she corralled him toward me using the front page emblazoned with bad puns, I grabbed and grabbed and grabbed, and missed and missed and missed. I then had the idea of using one section and unfolding it, forming a larger and softer parakeet trap. My fellow hunter surrendered the TV listing section and I managed to snare the bird in it, using a technique which would have to be witnessed to be appreciated. As we descended down the hill, my new friend Sandra held her cell phone to my head while I told my wife to get our extra bird cage ready. By the time I had gotten home, the little guy had chewed through the paper and was valiantly chomping my left index finger, not realizing that he was biting the hand that saved his little feathered butt from a fate very much like death.

*

Later while making my way to work from my subway stop, my ears started focusing in on the sounds of little legs connected to little feet wearing spiky heels all of which were pumping like pistons behind me. For every step I took, she took two, and with such force I imagined little chips of concrete scattering in her wake.

I stopped at Herald Square, and made the mistake of smiling about a garish Ferrari that was making a left turn onto 33rd Street. My mirthful look was shared by an extremely strange man who decided that we now had a lot in common and were great friends. As the light changed, he began following me across the intersection, babbling about the folly of excess to the accompaniment of the staccato from the six inch stilettos worn by the girl who I now identified as a young Asian in a big hurry.

If any of you have ever been to Herald Square, you may have noticed that the traffic flows in the opposite direction than the one you would expect. Therefore, at the point you look for traffic to be coming from the right, it comes from the left. I observed on my left that not only was the aforementioned female in a hurry, she was also wearing some headphones connected to an Ipod that was shoving music at high volume into her little skull. I also observed that her little skull was about to become part of Broadway because she was about 2 feet from stepping in front of a red tractor-trailer. So, I broke one of the main rules of NYC commuting, which is to avoid interpersonal contact at all costs. I lunged across the babbling man, grabbed her arm, and yanked her back out of the intersection. Her facial expression went from fright to anger to realization to relief to gratefulness to complete blankness in the space of five seconds, a feat which amazed me.

Mr. Babbler followed us across the intersection, telling both of us how she "owed me for life". We ignored him.

two/too short subway observations

A couple days ago I noticed a girl on the subway whose grace and beauty invited comparison to a tan Audrey Hepburn. Her natural good looks were heightened by an obvious attention to detail in her choice of clothing and accessories. These facts compounded my surprise when she opened her rosebud lips and out crackled a torrent of intense ghetto profanity. WYSIWYG bites the dust.

*

Today I saw a man with a forward-flowing combover of such a massive scope that it appeared he had actually employed hair from his back to contribute to the ruse.

a bad joke

On Wednesday I made up a joke while sitting in a Mexican restaurant on E. 53rd St. I recognized that it was a really stupid joke and had the good sense not to tell anyone.

That being said, I will now publish it to the Internet.

*

In a parallel universe, Salvador Dali and Dolly Parton met at a speed dating service in Topeka and fell madly in love. They married and had a child which they named Salvador Dali-Parton.

S.D.P. grew up to be a famous artist, like his father. In his first gallery exhibition he showcased a painting that eventually became known as his signature work.

Q: What was the title of the piece?
A: **The Persistence of Mammary.**
(Use your mouse to highlight the text between the asterisks, and prepare yourself for the worst)

Someday, if this joke is featured during the Late Show or in a famous summer blockbuster movie in another parallel universe, the handy date/time stamp feature on this site will prove invaluable to my legal team.

take a deep breath and get a buzz

There are 174 Starbucks Coffee Houses within 5 miles of my office building. If you draw the circle tighter there are still 110 of them within 2 miles! That's a lotta latte.

priorities

The other day I was on East Fordham Road wearing a suit. If you are at all familiar with that part of the Bronx, then you may realize I was not incognito. I was worried about missing the impending train, since I was standing in line for the ticket machine behind a boy who was breaking into the cash compartment with a steel rod. I asked him if he could finish later, once I had bought my ticket, and he said, "No, I gotta get mines."

harmful toys

The other day I was getting ready to go to dinner at Tavern on the Green, and when I went to the closet to pick out an outfit I grabbed a sports coat that's at least 15 years old. It didn't look that bad to me, and I decided that it must have gone out of style and then back in since the last time I wore it - that fact, and also that it didn't require ironing, sealed my decision.

As I left the apartment I reached into the inside breast pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that was nearly as old as the jacket. On the paper was written a list of items I had compiled in preparation for entertaining some people at a party. Inspired by a comic DJ in Ohio, where I grew up, I had written a list of mythical toys and then used a speaker phone to call a toy store and masquerade as an elderly gentlman who was a member of a local decency league. My reason for calling was that I was checking toy stores in the the area to make sure that they did not stock this list of dangerous toys that would harm the bodies or poison the minds of our children. I'm sure that some of these toys were directly ripped off the DJ, but I believe some of them were my own.

• Just Like Dad Riot Gear
• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Soup
• Authentic Small Swamp Gas Cannister
• Barbie's Swinging Crackhouse
• My First Cattle Prod
• Gorbie's Forehead Painting Kit by Coleco
• Wizz Kidz Urinalisis Testing Kit
• David Koresh Wacko Waco Arson Set (plywood compound not included)
• Liz Taylor Face Stretch and Tummy Tuck Kit (staples not included)
• Cher's Tattoo Your Friends While They Sleep Kit
• I'm a Little Drug Lord Play Brass Knuckles and Uzi Set
• Super Soaker Nitric Acid Jet Stream (Burn your Friends!)
• Hot Shot Flame Thrower by Mattel

expressly

I was feeling kind of literary as I sat on the downtown train, listening to the conductor theatrically announce the stops in a style that was mostly Boris Karloff but also a little Sam Waterston. This was a day when I could just start typing and be 90% assured that I would be relatively pleased with the result. Speaking of 90%, that is the percentage of the chance of rain today, according to the experts. What does that really mean? Everyone knows that if the chance of rain is 90%, then it will rain that day, without a doubt. It is raining right now, in fact, but I'm not at all bothered by it, since I've got some pretty cool new rubber shoes. I feel like a guy with a new four wheel drive, and I challenge Mother Nature to do her worst.

Regardless, the magic spell was broken at 96th St when I transferred on to the Express train. The term Express has never been used with less accuracy. Now, because of my ultra-long commute, you will not read anything more than a few paragraphs that amount to an excuse.

In addition, I will add that I'm in a bit of a professional transition that will make me not only quite busy, but also for stretches of time comptuter-disconnected, so my dispatches will be made with increasing infrequency.

the united nations

After the screening process, as I reassembled my attire and pocketed my personal items, I looked around the lobby and was struck by how completely stuck in the 60's this place is. Lime green cloth wall paper, low faux wood tables with steel legs, frosted glass, and terrazzo flooring were everywhere, and it only got more pronounced the further into the nooks and crannies of that place I eventually went.

I walked across the wide lobby to the hallway that led to a bank of elevators and was stopped by a very cheerful and professional security guard who informed me that I was not on the "the list". He began making calls about me and as he did we chatted and he asked me questions about why I was there. Eventually, to help prove my case, I sang in the empty lobby, and it echoed about quite nicely. This he thought was hilarious, and he eventually got on the loudspeaker system and introduced me, "We now would like to welcome our guest tenor!" at which point he gestured for me to sing again. I doubt the day crew gets away with that kind of thing. Good natured laughter bounced off the walls and the portraits of the last eight Secretary Generals, including one of my favorites - General Boutros Boutros Boutros Boutros Boutros-Ghali.

I bid him a fond farewell and went upstairs to do the work stuff, which went just fine.

On the way back down I was joined by the other three guys and one of them announced to the elevator operator in pizza-sauce Italian, "Tayeeek us to thee Secreetary, we have to seeeng for heeem!" He replied, "I'll take you anywhere, I don't care! Oil for Food!!" I admit I didn't get all the nuances of his meaning, but we all had a pretty good chuckle as we descended from the fourth floor.

the crackers

A shorter lived, less hyped art installation in Central Park.

old faithful

The mustachioed one never fails to deliver. Last night I was loading some darks into the high efficiency washing machine as he entered the laundry room. He greeted me normally before going to the dryer to extract his clothing, but I could almost hear his gears grinding. He would not disappoint me.

I could feel myself tensing in anticipation of his impending randomness. As I put the 4th quarter into the washer he whirled and proclaimed...

"Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink!"

essentials

A minuscule woman with a tight, rubbed face entered the subway car at 181st. So thin that she provided no resistance to her oily coat, her sweater arms sagged inches below its cuffs. She tottered fiercely about, alternately challenging people to fight and telling of times she gave advice to children who's parents weren't around when they needed them. She warned that she could take any of our jobs, and do them better, so none of us had better laugh at her. "I knows everything you do, so you better watch your step!" Going on like this for about 10 stops, she waited until the last minute to open up: "I don't usually go on like this. I'm a nice person. Before I got on the train, somebody was hassling me, laughing. They are gone now. I just need some help - some money."

a rat

A bit of trivia: Sandy stepped on a rat the other night on our way home from the grocery store. We were in a neighborhood that I certainly don't consider rat-ridden but at least on that evening became rat-trodden. S handled the whole thing calmly and was simply glad she hadn't stepped on a puppy like she first had thought. The rat wasn't as objective about it and ran spastically squeaking down the street.

superheroine

I was walking along, minding my own business and discovered this small figurine of the most curious superheroine I think I've ever seen.


Click photo to see an alarmingly large version.

Normally I put photos on my Photoblog, but this begs some thoughtful commentary. What kind of superheroine goes around in a slip with a four foot fly swatter? What evil lurks about that requires such an outfit and weapon? Makes me wonder about the Cartoon Network and the effect it is having on our little munchkins...

kuntry

During my commute today I could hear country music blasting from the earphones of the African American man sitting next to me. I was both saddened and irritated by the episide - saddened because knowing that some people like country music makes me...well...sad, and irritated because I never like to be subjected to hissing and fizzing versions of any type of music leaking out of headphones.

In addition to these two emotions, though, I also felt admiration for his courage to listen to loud country music on the subway at all. The steel guitars played an anthem of his bravery.

*

In honor of him, I will now tell a very stupid joke that involves country music. Background: in case you don't know what backward masking is - in my childhood it was often asserted that demons controlled the recording of rock music in such a way that if you played the music backwards it would tell you to take drugs, etc.

Q: What happens when you play a country music recording backwards?
A: You get your house back, your wife back, your dog back, and your truck back.
Highlight after the "A:" above to see the answer.