Before & After

Additional photos of the process found here.  Quality construction provided by Galesi Design.

Two things that keep me up at night

Sometimes I have trouble sleeping.

Sometimes there is a reason for this and sometimes not. Sometimes it's the rain, and sometimes it's the pipes.

At any given such time, whether there is a reason for it or not, there is always a thought that will present itself as the thing that occupies my mind at the time. Sometimes the thought is whether I should like sports more (yes, really) or whether architecture should be more open and accepting to amateurs (yes, really).

Tonight there were two thoughts which occupied my mind simultaneously, and made me both laugh and cry to the point of leaving my bed.

The first was a mental recreation of a tourist experience I had while visiting a site of Roman archaeological ruins in England, bordering a river by the name of Tyne. Among the building remains were many sub-structures that the site-designers (as the archaeologist-consultants must be described) went to great lengths to explain in the brochures as having served several and many specific purposes (“this is where they cleaned their coins”, “this is where they collected themselves and commented to each other on how clean their coins were”, “this building tells us how important the coins were to them, because it was structurally unsound, and they kept no coins in it” etc). And as we were walking through these various former-spaces I found myself saying to my husband “So… these Romans.. they had a steam bath here… according to the brochure.. and the water went out that way… Wow these Romans really cared about being clean… they went to great lengths to live up to this bathyness thing… you might say that they went all out to bathe in the Tyne daily.” … At which point the American tourists in front of us did an about-face and loudly expressed a happy “oh no, you didn’t.. [shame on you punster]”


The other thought was that Obama might be killed.

I know you don't really think I torture cats for fun

But, if I told you that this is my cat's absolute favorite thing in the world, would you believe me?

What do cat owners and 14-year-old anorexics have in common?

Skating with Prometheus

Something we did a couple of weeks ago:



The ice really was all fucked up and I was worried about dropping the camera otherwise I would have gotten more "action" footage. (it's surprisingly affordable for the what / where it is.. something like $10 admission + $10 skates rental each person.... I highly recommend it as one of those new york things one absolutely must do, such as fall in love and lose all hope).

(click to skate)

A question of style for the masses

Should we put Truck Nuts on our Prius?

And, there this out-of-context blip:

A hunter could still throw a freshly killed and uncovered deer in the back of his pickup, though, because the deer's body parts would be real, Myers said.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/02/22/AR2007022201426.html

Country Sign

The things one finds when one goes shopping for country farm signs online...

Squish

I went out this morning to buy a new flapper for my toilet and on the drive back I got stuck behind some cars that were taking an awfully long time to make a simple right-hand turn. It was only after I went a few feet past the intersection that I realized the reason they were moving so slowly is that there was kitten -- a tiny tiny kitten, barely visible against the gray roadtop -- just sort of sitting in the middle of the street, seemingly not sure itself how it got there.

I jumped out of the car so fast that I neglected to first make sure it wasn't moving. Somehow I managed to jump back in, apply the brake, and run back out in time to scoop up the kitten, which now had impatient motorists (who will forever burn in hell jabbed by trident-wielding cats) whizzing past her on both sides. Two or three more seconds and I would have needed a spatula to pick her up.

So, during the rest of the drive home I debated what to call it. "Toilet" was an immediate choice. "Lexington", after the name of the avenue where I found her, was a close second, although I have a problem with pet names of more than two syllables. Eventually I decided on "Squish", which is the last sound she would have made if things had turned out differently.

The Safest Place on Planet Earth

No Ties

I think it's a good development for presidential candidates to not wear ties. Kennedy didn't need a hat, and I hate ties. Yep. Ties are stupid and bad. Especially in hot weather. No ties. Jesus didn't wear a tie. Did I mention that I don't like ties? Fuck ties. Oh, and by the way, fuck ties.

No ties.

Seen in New York: Subway Reader

The Gentleman in the Water

From NYT:

A 32-year-old man competing in the New York City Triathlon died Sunday after being pulled unconscious from the Hudson River on a day when competitors battled heat, humidity and stinging jellyfish along the course.
[...]
“Other swimmers noticed the gentleman in the water, and they were actually waving and signaling for the nearby jet boats to come assist them,” Burke said.

I enjoy a good swim myself... and I enjoy a good drink at a bar.. This story made both of those activities intersect in my mind in the sense that every now and then while in the game the arbitrating authority (bartender / referee) is asked to take a player out due to inability.... but rarely due to death.

nail biting

I have bitten my nails all of my life. Call it an oral fixation (and those whose names are on my shit list for taking away my pacifier will tell you that it is), is has been a bane before, during, and after my hard-core tobacco addiction which is thankfully now past.

Today I received THIS in the mail... (at my request -- sorry, do I sound tense?)

... which was supposed to make my fingers taste so bad I wouldn't want to put them in my mouth.

I will give this product the worst possible review I ever gave a porn movie:

"In spite of its best efforts my intentions went unchecked."

I've Been Ratzed!

Yesterday I was doing some gardening upstairs on my deck when I heard a rather loud helicopter nearby. Now, this being Brooklyn, one often hears a police / news / weather helicopter buzzing about and not a second thought is spent on it. However, this was really LOUD and CLOSE (a few hundred feet). I looked up and was rather surprised to see Marine One (what the giant helicopter the president uses to shuttle from the White House lawn to wherever Air Force One takes off from, Andrews AFB I guess) buzzing my neighborhood, just about 500 feet above my head.

That surprise was only beaten by the sight of a SECOND Marine One right behind it.... then a third, a fourth, and a FIFTH (I didn't know there were that many). Five full-sized Marine One's doing a tour circle fly-by of residential Brooklyn (they actually did a loop around Clinton Hill, Park Slope, and then headed off somewhere southeast).

I think my grandmother would be somewhat disappointed to learn that after a lifetime of her fetishistic catholic idol worship, I managed to get closer to the Pope than she has while engaging in no greater effort than potting dahlias.

(the photos are not great as I only had my cell phone's camera with me; you can't see all five choppers at once in any of these shots and because of the fish-eye quality of the lens they look a lot further than they actually were)

UPDATE: I'm told the Pope doesn't actually get to NYC until today, so the helicopters I saw were 100% Pope-free. Oh well.. it was still a sight. Perhaps they were rehearsing a route on which to take him for a tour of the city and I'll have another chance later today.

How I Piss People Off

I don't even try... It just happens.

I was out walking my dog this morning when I noticed an Astrovan or equivalent (do they still make Astrovans in this brave new world of ours?) parked about five feet off the curb in front of a hydrant, something quite commonly seen here in New York, and particularly in Brooklyn. The idea, which comes naturally to us programmers and generally left-brained people, is that since it is illegal to park in front of a hydrant, in the interest of not getting a ticket I will instead park in the middle of the fucking street blocking traffic, as I would if I were, say, double-parked in front of a store while I ran in to get nail polish or condoms or something.

So, I stopped for a moment in front of this van, and I said "Excuse me, could I ask you a question?" and the young woman with the large frizzy blonde hair opens the driver's door and turns to me smiling. "I'm just curious.... do you think you're legally parked right now?" Her response (which reminded me of those long-ago commercials where, to use the vernacular of advertising graybacks, a C in a K would exclaim gleefully at the camera while shopping: "I'm cleaning my oven!") was "I'm double-parked in front of my house for a minute!"

My mind paused for a moment, as it always does while gauging the level of stupidity or insanity in another person.

"But there is no car there" I said, while looking wanly at the empty pavement between her car and the curbside hydrant. I then turned back at her to see that she was no longer smiling. I decided I needed to remedy this faux pas.

"I mean, I'm not trying to piss you off or anything, but I see a lot of people doing this and I'm just trying to figure out what the logic of it is."

"Well, I'm just here for a minute", she responds.

"Yes, but you're blocking the road."

At this she just decides that we're no longer just having a conversation, as was my assumption, and instead closes the door and begins to maneuver her van into the empty space next to the curb. I walked away, with the satisfaction of having made a new friend.

So, whether you live in Brooklyn or not, the next time you see an empty space in front of a hydrant near where you would like to see a LEGAL parking spot, but are too lazy to just go and actually find a legal spot, don't just park in the middle of the road in front of the hydrant. Two wrongs don't make a right, even if you're fucking stupid.

...From Broyhill!

(sorry, i've been watching a lot of The Price is Right lately -- it's in high def now you know)

So I was strolling the other day (ok, today) through Guitar World or whatever it's called and I saw this used keyboard...

...for $160 (image links to description -- "slim and stylish... from Casio!" whispers Rod Ruddy).

If there is one thing I know about keyboards (and by god there really is only one thing I know about keyboards), regardless of any dearth of features, is that you can't get anything with a full 88 keys, decent or otherwise, for less than $300. So I figured this was my chance to implement my plan to buy a piano and finally, after decades of succeeding to not even try, to learn to play more than the two 30-second twinkly-tink songs I got out of two+ years of Suzuki lessons as a child.

The "plan", in this case, has a built-in escape hatch where if I fail to teach myself (I really don't think this is going to involve other people; just a hunch) then I'm only out $160... a far cry from the $800 I considered for a different model just a couple of months ago at another location.

I've had excellent luck buying marked down, slightly used goods (apparently this model goes for about $500) so I didn't think twice about it. The question now is (which is why I'm bothering to put this out here, there, and everywhere).... what autodidactic method to use? Do you know (first or Nth hand), of an adult who, from scratch, taught itself to play piano? What path(s) did they follow?

somebody had one cup of coffee too many this morning

A bar's stroller ban has set off a turf battle in Brooklyn.

What do you think of strollers in bars?

February 11th, 2008 7:03 am

This is outrageous. Divisive issues such as this threaten to tear the Democratic party apart. We need to show a united front to the GOP, yet our very babies and being used as would be badminton birds. Anyway, why strollers? In my day, we lashed our babies to our bodies with rawhide strips. Babies could gnaw on the strips when teething time came around. When the strips rotted away, the baby fell to the ground and toddling time began. The toddler was given a crust of bread and sent out to make his way in the world, coming home for snack time and story time. Having a baby lashed to you means your body gets toned like no pilates workout would. As the baby gets bigger and bigger, you get stronger and stronger from the increasing resistance. The great world champion Bulgarian powerlifters of the 1970s pushed this technique to the limit in their training and kept their children bound to them well into their teenage years. We should not argue with their success. If these mothers would use these traditional methods, combined with a serape to conceal the baby, this would be a non-issue. For the sake of Democratic unity, I implore the mothers of Brooklyn to use the time honored method of rawhide strips and serapes, and let the healing begin. A ravaged nation awaits your decision and salutes your sacrifice.

— Contemplator, Kansas City

The Day Anakin Died

Thursday, January 31, 2008 The Day Anakin Died Business/Location: Heath Ledger Apartment Address: 421 Broome St City: New York State: NY Zip Code: 10013 Phone: Website:

Posted by: Juan Molinari Photo: Juan Molinari

Heath Ledger Apartment When I first learned of Heath Ledger's death I looked away from my cell phone's news feed and turned to the person on my left, who was waiting for the movie to start along with me at the theater. "Heath Ledger is dead," I said, turning the phone to face him so he could read the headline on the Drudge Report . "Who's Heath Ledger?" he said. "He played Anakin Skywalker," I replied. It was only later, after I got home, that I realized that Heath Ledger had not, in fact played Anakin Skywalker; that that was Hayden Christensen. And I cried a little.

when the big bowl of wrong goes bad

As a freelance software developer, it's often happened that I'm asked to take over the work that somebody else has, for one reason or another, left behind either incomplete or in need of ongoing maintenance. As with any endeavor where, on the short term, one is required to set aside one's preferred methodologies or otherwise accepted best practices in order to accommodate the style of the other person, the thought of "this guy is a fucking nutjob" crosses one's mind often, pre- or proceeded by a machine-gun rattatat of creative cursing, head-banging on the desk and certain promises made to oneself that, if paths were to cross at some point, his ass will be royally kicked.

It does not, however, happen that often that said predecessor is quite literally a homicidal maniac.

Coupe, Parte Deux

Recently I wrote about how I was letting my hair grow long so I could get a free haircut from Bumble & Bumble University. I know, why go forwards just to go back? Because you get to travel, that's why.

So, to review, this is what my hair looked like the day of the haircut:

looking to the left	looking to the right

Bumble & Bumble have a pretty good setup for "hair models" to come in and hang out in a comfortable setting... spacious, in the not-so-expensive real estate area of extreme W 13th street in Manhattan's Meatpacking District (you can almost smell faint traces of porcine exsanguinations drifting up through the cobblestones as if saying "it should have been you....").

They even set up a large terrace for people to mill about, network, smoke cigarettes, call on their phones and generally do whatever New Yorkers do whenever they're not working, eating, shopping or fucking.



Two views from the terrace:



I like this shot. It's sparkly and self-repetitive... two of my photographic motif hallmarks:

Once more, before:


And after....

I'm told this would normally go for over $100. I don't think so, but if I'm so inclined to let my hair grow to over 4" long again by April (when my next appointment is) I'll let them have their way with it once more.

The Maiden Voyage of the Amaryllis

I bought a radio-controlled helicopter from one of those stores on the Manhattan-end of DUMBO. It looks like this:



The remote is freakin' HUGE:


Now, here's the thing.. I have this plant called an Amaryllis.. and it looks like this (when fully bloomed):



Mine (unlike the "for illustration purposes only" sample above) was merely in the process of blooming at the time we launched what now, as a necessity, has to be called The HHWB(*) Amaryllis. After some sputtering and "oh jeebuz look out!" this is what remained of the flowering ends of my plant, after the super-sized housefly was swatted out of the way:

(*) His-and-His WhirlyBird



safety first, kids: make sure your doctor is standing by before you test-fly aircraft inside your house.