solo furniture shopping

I spent my Saturday afternoon browsing through different furniture and home stores in Manhattan trying to find a coffee table for my living room. I don't think I've ever gone furniture shopping by myself before, and it's not much fun. At most of the stores, especially Crate and Barrel, I was surrounded by couples, so I felt weird being alone. I also hadn't measured the space in my living room, so I had to guess at what would fit in it. I've figured out that a rectangular table will be far too big, but there aren't many square tables at the proper height for a coffee table. I looked at several "side tables," but those are a little taller than coffee tables and most of them would look out of place in front of the couch. In addition, I need to think about the tabletop. I'm likely going to use it as a foot rest as much as for eating or working, so I need something sturdy. Many coffee tables have glass tops, and I'm not sure I want one -- I'd have to clean it all the time and watch that I didn't put my foot through it. Maybe I should get an ottoman instead. I found a few possibilities, so maybe I'll have one picked out and in my apartment in the next few weeks. And there's always the chance I'll find a gem sitting outside someone else's apartment in my neighborhood.

I also looked at dressers and found a few that were affordable and would look good in my bedroom. That's another purchase that will allow me to get rid of some of the "poor man" plastic drawers I've had forever, and might be even more important than the living room table. I'm getting along OK without a table, but the lack of a dresser is going to hurt in a few weeks when I break out my spring and summer wardrobe. I'll need a place to put all my polo shirts and shorts, and I don't think there's enough room on the shelf in my closet.

My reward for finally getting out and at least looking at furniture was a trip to the Virgin Megastore in Union Square, where they're having a $10 CD and DVD sale. Here's what I picked up:

Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run
Radiohead, OK Computer
The Beach Boys, Pet Sounds
Queen, Classic Queen
Moulin Rouge
Stargate

I had hoped to do better, but there wasn't as much that I actually wanted as I thought when I stopped in the store last night. But that way I kept my spending in check. If I'd bought everything I considered buying, I'd have spent two or three times as much. And I'd probably have needed another CD rack at home.

my evening routine

This is what Vladi does to me anytime I sit down to watch TV. I don't think he's drawn blood yet but he does leave little red claw marks on my stomach, no matter how many layers I'm wearing. I'd trim his claws if I could get him to sit still for the procedure.

Now THAT'S a spelling bee!

Two kids in Billings, Montana dueled in a marathon spelling bee for the privilege of moving on to the National Spelling Bee in Washington, DC. It took 16 rounds to eliminate the rest of the field, leaving just two contestants, and then they took turns spelling words for another 25 rounds. The entire spelling bee lasted 4 1/2 hours. I remember a few long spelling bees from my junior high days, but nothing that took 25 rounds between two competitors. That's like a 4-overtime NHL playoff game. When it's over, it's not so much about who won as who survived.

For the record, the closest I got to the National Spelling Bee was finishing fifth in a Pennsylvania regional bee in 1988. I won a dictionary for advancing from the district bee to the regional one. I think my prize as a distant runner-up was a medal and a free pizza lunch.

And before anyone posts it in the comments, I haven't seen Spellbound yet. It's on my Netflix list.

my weekend in Podunk

A few weeks ago, one of my old friends from high school, Avirat, invited me to visit him for the weekend at his house near Harrisburg, PA. I decided that a weekend outside of New York might do me some good, so I took him up on the offer. He invited some other friends from high school to come in as well, so the plan was that it would be a little reunion. I hadn’t seen Avirat since his wedding five years ago, so for that reason alone it was a good idea to go visit him.

I took the train to Harrisburg and got in around 6:30 Friday night. Avirat picked me up at the train station and we talked about what we wanted to do that night. He’d already suggested going to see dirt track auto racing at the track near his house, and since I’d told a few people that that was one of the things I’d be doing, I agreed. The track is a giant oval strip of packed dirt and mud on which they primarily race sprint cars. The track is surrounded by massive fields for parking, on which Isaw all manner of SUVs, motor homes, and pickup trucks. The track was also a BYOB site, so we brought in a cooler full of Miller Lite. Avirat said he normally stands and watches the races from the infield, but we met some of his friends there who were sitting in the main grandstand, so we went up there instead. I’ve never seen so many rednecks in all my life. I felt out of place in my leather coat and a plain gray t-shirt – everyone else had on racing shirts and jackets, flannel, even overalls. The racing was fun to watch. Sprint cars are basically just engines with a seat for the driver and a safety cage, and a giant fin sits on top of the car. And these are huge engines, so the cars make an incredible amount of noise every time they go past. We watched the qualifying heats and the consolation race, and we saw the start of the feature race (the final), but two cars got in a wreck just at the start of the race, and there was a long delay while they cleaned and then dried the track (it had also started to rain). It was late and we weren’t sure when they were going to get the racing under way again, so we went back to his house and hung out for a while, catching up. Since the track is only a mile away, we could hear the final race, about 45 minutes after we left.

On Saturday morning we ran some errands and went shopping at guys’ stores: Best Buy, Lowe’s, Circuit City, and Linens & Things. (OK, on the last one, in my defense Avirat had a coupon and I needed some small kitchen items I’ve been putting off buying for a while.) We still had some time to kill before our other friends came in from Johnstown, so we went back to his house to play Guitar Hero. It’s a Playstation 2 game with a special guitar controller where you listen to a song and play along using the colored frets on the guitar neck and “strumming” the notes with a up/down switch where the strings would go. The “notes” scroll by in “Dance Dance Revolution” style, and you have to press the frets and strum in time with the music. It looks and sounds ridiculous, but it’s surprisingly fun to play, and addictive to boot. About half the songs in the game were ones that I knew (“Cochise,” “Iron Man,” “I Love Rock & Roll,” “Crossroads,” “Take Me Out” are just a few) and I really enjoyed playing the game, trying to fumble through some of the tougher songs. In particular, I played “Bark At The Moon” three or four times until I was able to “beat” the song, like getting through a level in a FPS. By this time our Johnstown friends had arrived, and we headed out for the evening.

We went to a BBQ joint near Avirat’s house for dinner. It wasn’t a chain restaurant, but someone had evidently been to Red, Hot, and Blue and Corky’s, or other similar BBQ restaurants, because the décor was photos of blues artists and posters from blues festivals. But the food was excellent.

Our first stop was a microbrew bar in Yocumville, somewhere outside of Harrisburg. This bar had about 40 small brews on tap, so each of us got something different and we just stayed long enough to have one. Before long we were in downtown Harrisburg, at a place called The Hardware Bar. It’s a three-story bar: the ground floor has a live band and the female bartenders dance on the bar, the second floor is a lounge with beds and couches, and the third floor is a dance club. We spent the whole night on the ground floor listening to the cover band and watching the show from a small balcony that overlooks the stage. The band was better than I expected for a cover band, and the crowd really got into the music. We had planned to go bar-hopping to a few other places on the same street but we were having too much fun to leave. When the show ended at 1 AM, we fortified ourselves for the drive home with a slice of pizza (I haven’t done the late-night post-bar food run in years) and got back to Avirat’s house around 2 AM. Somehow we remembered to change the clocks so I wouldn’t be late for my train on Sunday afternoon.

On Sunday we got up late and didn’t have time to do much besides stop for a quick lunch on the way back to the train station. I spent a beautiful Sunday afternoon relaxing on the train reading Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer, which my college friend Jon sent to me just before the Super Bowl. The cats were excited to see me safely home again after I abandoned them for the weekend (I did have a friend check on them yesterday).

And tonight, Robot Chicken returned. The “Superman” reference in the opening was hysterical.

Klosterman unimpressed with "Chinese Democracy"

Chuck Klosterman's review of the new Guns N' Roses album "Chinese Democracy" is up on Spin Magazine's web site and in the latest issue. He thinks it would have been a better album had it come out a few years earlier and with less "maniacal perfectionism" on the part of Axl Rose. I especially like this quote:

"The Blues" might be Rose's crowning career achievement: It's an epic combination of mid-period Stevie Wonder, early Elton John, and side two of In Through the Out Door. This is the kind of gutter-glam boogie ballad that makes "November Rain" seem like a bucket of burro vomit warming in the afternoon sun.

and this informative one:

Several songs make thinly veiled references to the architect who designed Rose's backyard topiary garden, a move that may confuse casual listeners.

Don't miss the "Fast Facts" section at the end of the review, for more insight on the lengthy production time for this long-awaited album. I'm not sure I'll buy it, unless I receive an unexpected gift of Monopoly money.

Gene Weingarten breaks down Bob Dylan

A few weeks back in his Washington Post chat, Gene Weingarten polled the readers about Billy Joel's "Piano Man." He asked his readers to rate the best and worst lines in the song, among other questions about its merits. In Tuesday's chat, Gene tried the same trick with Bob Dylan's "Ballad of a Thin Man," from Highway 61 Revisited. Gene's analysis is about halfway down the transcript -- search for the phrase "Okay, the poll". I'd never really thought about the meaning behind this song, and I'm not saying Gene's got it right, but when I listened to it on the way home today and thought about what he wrote, he's got a pretty good sense of the song. The discussion of the song, and by extension Bob Dylan's talent, reminded me that Highway 61 Revisited is quite possibly one of the best albums ever recorded, and certainly one of my favorites. Has any artist ever had as productive a stretch as Dylan had in the mid-1960s, when he released Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde on Blonde back-to-back-to-back? I don't know if there's a bad song on any of those three albums.

Cranky old guy hates Starbucks

I meant to post this last week, when it first appeared on Gawker. There's a guy who has a website called "The Kid From Brooklyn" and Gawker linked to this video clip of him ranting about the price of Starbucks coffee, the accompanying snacks one might consume at a Starbucks, and the general ambience of the world's favorite coffee conglomerate.

I love cranky old men. I look forward to being one someday. Well, the old part at least. I'm already cranky enough.

Bill Paxton's Naked Hour

It seems Jess and I aren't the only ones who think HBO's new show "Big Love" exists purely as an excuse for Bill Paxton to show his bare ass to millions of TV viewers (fourth item). And in the pilot, we got a quick glimpse of "Little Bill," just so you know.

Coconuts Wednesday

I can't believe that I have to miss this event today while I'm at work. It's like Tuba Christmas, only completely different. Although I didn't like Spamalot as much as I would have hoped, I'd still love to go to this party.

a different kind of busy this week

The massive rollout we've been prepping for is finally getting under way this week at work. Early versions of the work schedule had us working six days a week, 15 hours a day, in shifts. Now the schedule is down to five days a week and only 12 hours, still in shifts. Since I didn't know just how bad things might get this week, I held off making any plans for my evenings. And my forethought has been rewarded, as I got tapped to be the evening support this week until 9 PM. It's not that bad a deal: I get a free dinner, a cab ride home, and I can sleep in a little bit in the mornings and come in later. However, the times do remind me of the ugly e-mail upgrade I ran six years ago at another job, which had a similar schedule and drove me to look for work elsewhere. I'm not in charge of this rollout, though; I just have to hang out and answer the phone if they need me. So I'm not afraid of this rollout forcing me to start a job search. And it's only for this week -- next week someone else will get the late shift.

With my new marching orders, Monday night was the only night this week that I got to cook dinner for myself. I wanted some comfort food, but not any of my usual easy dishes. A few weeks ago we were supposed to have a tater tot casserole for the Oscar party, but since the people who were going to bring that didn't come to the party, I missed out. But the idea stuck in my head, so tonight I threw together some ground beef, mushroom soup, green beans, tater tots and cheese and baked it. When I took a bite, I thought, "mmm...tastes like middle America." It was good, in a red-state sort of way. Hey, I don't have to be a gourmet every damn night. And there's enough left over for two lunches this week.

I'm more than a little excited that Georgetown is in the Sweet 16 for the first time in 10 years. I should get out of work on Friday just in time to see their next game, vs. Florida. My official bracket is a mess, but I did have Georgetown getting this far and facing Florida. That and $1.50 gets me a cup of coffee.

I love a slow Friday

There's not much to do this afternoon, so I guess it's cool that I got to watch the Georgetown-Northern Iowa game at my desk. (Hoyas win, 54-49!) I walked past my boss's desk, and he was reading a magazine. Now I'm just counting the minutes until I can get out of here for the weekend. Next week we've got a major project getting under way. While I'm told that we won't have to work late hours, I'm preparing myself for the worst.

It's also St. Patrick's Day. My neighborhood wasn't busy when I left, but there were signs it will be a madhouse when I get home. Aside from the usual holiday revelers, there's a movie filming on my block today. I'm going to do my best to avoid all of that mishegoss, and go to establishments that have no connection to the Irish, the holiday, or the Catholic church. Hopefully I won't have to step over any drunks to get to my apartment.

strange late-night thoughts

I'm sitting here re-reading some journals I wrote many years ago. Maybe it's because of the lateness of the hour, or the state of affairs in my own head, but I just realized that my entire career in information technology hinged on the interview I had twelve years ago for a student technical assistant job in Georgetown's IT department. I had been hung over for two days after an ill-fated attempt to mix cheap vodka and Sprite, hadn't shaved in at least that time, and I showed up for the interview in a t-shirt and jeans. (I was a student at the time, but still.) I have no idea how I was coherent enough to convince them I was right for the job, but they gave it to me anyway. Had I not been offered that job, I would have been forced to take a administrative assistant position instead that wouldn't have offered me the opportunity to work on the university computer systems. I might have ended up a lawyer after all.

not so busy this week

It's NCAA Tournament week. Georgetown is back in the tournament for the first time in five years, though I'd hoped they'd do better than a 7 seed. I haven't finished filling out my bracket yet, and since I left my copy at work, I guess that will be my Wednesday evening activity. The tournament doesn't really get started until Thursday (I don't count Tuesday night's "opening round"/play-in game).

Things have been a little slow around here, or at least the things I'm willing to write about publicly. Hence the lack of posts. But I am still alive. I'd better be, or else my cats wouldn't have anyone to be crazy around.

Natalie Portman will f**k you up

For the first time in months, I skipped SNL this weekend. I didn't watch a minute of it, didn't record it, barely gave it a thought. Thankfully, the Internet provides what I missed. This is freakin' awesome.

quick test post...

... to see if Blogger comments now show up

a busy week

While I don't mind spending my evenings at home watching TV and relaxing, sometimes it's fun to go out and do something different on a weeknight. I didn't plan to spend every night this week out on the town, but that's the way things have gone. The only ones who seem to mind are my cats, as you'll see.

On Tuesday, a friend e-mailed me asking if I wanted to see George Clinton and the P-Funk All-Stars at B.B. King's that night. I love the funk, and I try not to miss the Mothership when it lands, so I readily accepted. She and I met at the club around 6:30, so we had time to get a table, eat dinner, talk for a while, and then had seats for the show. The band was excellent as always, and at this point, seeing them for the fifth time, I was able to sing along with most of the songs. We sat a few tables away from Ed Bradley, who looked like he was having a good time. I sent a tip to Gawker, and made this week's "Gawker Stalker" column (see the next-to-last entry). George must be getting old, because the show started around 8:30 and ended about 11:30. One time I saw him at B.B. King's and the show went over four hours. No "Maggot Brain" this time around, but they made up for it by playing "One Nation," "Flashlight," and "Atomic Dog" among many other songs.

On Wednesday night, I went to see Brokeback Mountain with another friend. I thought the movie was worthy of the praise and recognition it's received, though it was a bit long. And no one ate pudding. Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal were both fantastic, especially Ledger. I think Phillip Seymour Hoffman's going to win the Best Actor Oscar on Sunday night, but Ledger has a good shot at the award too.

Last night was my second trip out to Queens for karaoke. While I'm much more comfortable singing in a chorus than by myself, I thought I'd give this a shot and see if I really liked it. The only previous time I'd sung karaoke was in Jamaica, on vacation and in front of a room full of drunken strangers, and I loved it. This bar in Queens has its share of drinkers, but I've got a few new friends who love to sing and have a really good time with it. I'm a little surprised at how much fun I'm having as well. My biggest problem is finding songs that are in my range. I'm a bass or a baritone, and most pop songs are sung by tenors or baritones with high upper registers. I feel most comfortable with Tom Jones, Johnny Cash, and everyone's favorite crooner, Englebert Humperdinck. If "After The Lovin'" doesn't make the ladies swoon, nothing will. The only problem is that the bar is far enough out in Queens that it takes me about 45 minutes to get home. So when I left last night, it was close to 2 AM, and I got home around 2:45 to two cats who were annoyed that they hadn't seen me all day. This morning I spent a few minutes of quality time with Vladi to make up for my absence.

Tonight I'm going to see Capote, which will complete my Best Picture Oscar roundup. Then I'm going home to crash until the ceremony on Sunday night.

new CDs

My brother gave me an Amazon.com gift certificate for Hanukkah and I finally used it last week to buy some items from my wish list. I got Dream Theater's Octavarium, which I listened to at the gym on Saturday. It's more lyrical and less hard-core metal than their previous album, and they even use an orchestra on the last track, a 24-minute opus along the lines of "A Change of Seasons." It's not ideal workout music, but it's a good album nonetheless.

The big purchase was the Switched-On Bach boxed set. I've written about S-OB before, and it has been one of my all-time favorite albums since the first time I heard it over twenty years ago. Wendy Carlos recorded other Baroque albums on the Moog synthesizer throughout the 1970s, and this set brings them all together in one collection. I'd heard everything in the set before except for three of the Brandenburg Concertos, but not in many, many years. So listening to these CDs was like being transported back to my pre-teen years, when I was a geeky kid discovering Bach. In fact, it was a long time before I heard most of these works performed on anything other than a Moog. Even now, I'm still amazed at the range of sounds that Carlos was able to get out of this equipment nearly forty years ago. Listening to this music makes me happy in ways I can't even describe.

High School Senior Year Meme

My brother sent me this list of questions, so it ends up in the blog.

1. Who was your best friend?
I don't think I could pick just one. I had really geeky friends who were the top students, and I had a crowd of noble miscreants I hung out with on weekends. Maybe Joel, as he was my go-to friend for homework questions, discussions of school politics, and general extracurricular activities.

2. What sports did you play?
I was a manager for the football team, so I kept track of the game balls, the water buckets and the sideline setup during games, and made sure all the equipment got out to the practice field and back during the week.

3. What kind of car did you drive?
I drove my mom's '86 Toyota Corolla when I could borrow it from her. I only drove it to school a few times, mostly at the end of the year.

4. It's Friday night, where were you at?
Usually out with my friends, playing pool, trying to pick up girls at the mall or hanging out at someone's house.

5. Were you a party animal?
In a word, no.

6. Were you in the "In Crowd"?
No, although I was slightly more popular during football season, due to my affiliation with the team. Maybe I'm just remembering it that way.

7. Ever skip school?
Once, when we had a student "strike" to protest the ongoing teachers' selective strike that had disrupted school for most of the fall semester. Since the teachers would decide each day whether to strike or not, one day the students showed up at the high school with signs and pickets and refused to go into the building. We had news coverage, food, parental support, the works. The principal came out and said we were OK to strike that one day as long as we moved the protest to the middle school. So we formed a caravan of students driving their own cars two miles away to the middle school, which was on a high-traffic road and offered us much better exposure to the public. By early afternoon we were all cold and hungry (it was early November), so most of us went home. The strike continued throughout the rest of the school year and into the next, so our protest made absolutely no difference. But it was fun just the same.

8. Ever smoke?
No. I lost respect for my friends and girls I liked when I found out they smoked.

9. Were you a nerd?
Nerd, geek, dork, you name it, I fit it. I was in the top ten students in my class, took almost all AP classes, captained the quiz bowl team, and got my acceptance letter for Georgetown in December, earlier than anyone else in my class got accepted to college.

10. Did you get suspended/expelled?
No. I never even had detention. I stayed after school because I wanted to, not because I had to.

11. Can you sing the Alma Mater?
The words to the Alma Mater were printed in the student handbook, but I never heard it played so I don't know the music. The school fight song was the Notre Dame fight song, but I don't think we had our own words.

12. Who was your favorite teacher?
Mr. Pompanella, who taught AP American/European History. He treated his class like a college course, and for the most part got college-level work out of his students. And he was fond of muttering Latin phrases under his breath, knowing we couldn't understand him. Ms. Adams, my AP English teacher, is a close second, as her class was the one that inspired me to major in English at Georgetown.

13. Favorite class?
English.

14. What was your school's full name?
Westmont Hilltop High School.

15. School mascot?
A "Hilltopper", which was a ripoff of the Notre Dame mascot. I think our mascot faces the other way, probably to avoid a lawsuit. At football games during my era, a student wore a giant red & gray football costume and danced on the sidelines in front of the band.

16. Did you go to Prom?
Yes, with a friend from my Jewish youth group who came all the way from Charleston, WV for the event.

17. If you could go back and do it over, would you?
Yes. By the time I got to high school, I had figured out how to handle the relentless teasing of the students who picked on nerds like me. As a result, high school was largely free of that sort of harassment, and I was able to enjoy myself more than I had in previous grades. I loved football season and being a part of the team, albeit as a much-abused manager. If I could go back in time, I'd join the team as a sophomore, when we won a district championship, instead of the following year, when we went 4-6.

18. What do you remember most about graduation?
Playing a viola solo during the ceremony. And sweating under my robe -- the auditorium was hot and those robes were some kind of synthetic non-breathable fabric.

19. Favorite memory of your Senior Year?
Going to Pennsylvania's All-State Orchestra festival in April. I had to pass an audition to get there, and I studied the music and practiced more than ever before (or since) to get through. It was my last music festival, and I'd known many of the other musicians there for years, so it was a last hurrah for all of us.

20. Were you ever posted up on the senior wall?
Whatever that is, we didn't have it. However, after graduation my name was on the "Top Ten" plaque for my class, which should still be hanging outside the school auditorium. Future generations of Hilltoppers can look up at my name and think "who the hell was that guy?" If they notice it at all.

21. Did you have a job your senior year?
I played in the Johnstown Symphony Orchestra, which paid me about $140 a concert, enough to pay for gas and entertainment on weekends.

22. Who did you date?
No one seriously, though I did have a few dates. My only high school girlfriend was Becky Gore, who I dated the previous year. Becky, if you're out there, say hello.

23. Where did you go most often for lunch?
Because of the way my classes were scheduled, I had to eat lunch in French class. I took so many classes I didn't have time for an actual lunch in the cafeteria.

24. Have you gained weight since then?
I gained weight in college and in the years after, then lost it a few years ago. When I was home at Christmas, I found a pair of jeans in my closet that had been there since high school. I think they might fit me now.

25. What did you do after graduation?
Immediately afterwards, I went to a family graduation party at the home of my stepmother's nieces, who were my classmates. Then I played Trivial Pursuit with my geeky friends until the wee hours. Since we'd had a strike all year, we graduated on June 30 and I only had about seven weeks of summer. I spent most of that time at home hanging out at home, though I did go to Washington, DC for a few weeks to see my dad and take care of some business at Georgetown.

thoughts while watching Olympic hockey

Mike Emrick is a great hockey announcer, but he's going to blow a vein in his forehead. Whenever there's a play in front of the net, he sounds like someone is squeezing him in an uncomfortable location. I'd say that he's just extra excited for Team USA, but he's like that for every game.

The organists in the hockey arenas in Torino are AWESOME. So far in the tournament I've heard Coldplay, Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir," and Elton John's "Bennie and the Jets." And every time they play the recorded "Day-O," I wonder who changed the channel to a Yankees game.

early wake-up call for hockey

NBC, in its utter boneheadedness, is airing the Olympic mens' ice hockey games live on MSNBC and the USA network in the mornings and during the day. I missed Wednesday's games, so I set my alarm for 6:30 AM today and watched parts of two games while I got ready for work. I got to see Switzerland upset the Czech team, and part of Finland's 6-0 romp over Italy. In a possibly boneheaded move of my own, I set my DVR to record all seven hours of today's hockey on MSNBC, so I can watch it later tonight with my own homemade "tape delay." It's better than what NBC is showing in prime time. The only event on tonight's schedule that I want to see is the snowboardcross. I can live without the mens' figure skating finals, even with Johnny Weir's eccentricities. I just have to find a way to compress seven hours of hockey into three hours, so I'm not up all night.

I still remember the Nagano hockey tournament with fondness. CBS showed those games live as well, but with the time difference in Japan, they aired after midnight in the US. For several nights during the Games, I took a nap in the evening, then woke up to watch hockey overnight. I went back to bed around 5 AM and got a few more hours' sleep before going to work. Oh, to be 24 again and have that kind of energy....

BLIZZARD 2006!!!!

I've seen three blizzards in the past four years in New York. Why is it that they've all happened on weekends? I'd like to get a day off work for snow just once. In 2003 there was a blizzard over President's Day weekend. Last January we had a big snowstorm on a Saturday afternoon. And this time the snow started on Saturday night and continued into Sunday morning. We were supposed to get about a foot of snow in the city. Instead, at noon the measured snowfall in Central Park was 22.6 inches, the second-highest amount of snow ever. I went for a walk this afternoon and took my camera along. I walked over to Carl Schurz Park and saw lots of kids sledding and making snowmen, and took some serene pictures of the park and Gracie Mansion. You can see my photos in this Flickr set.

Cat Detective Fred

Gothamist has the best roundup of the different versions of the story of Fred, the undercover cat for the Brooklyn DA's office. It's a fluff story (pun most definitely intended) about a serious crime: a Brooklyn man who had little veterinary training and certainly was no doctor posed as a veterinarian and made house calls for about seven years. He got caught when one of his clients thought his sick and wounded dog hadn't been properly cared for and went to the police. Fred the cat, a former stray, got involved in the sting operation that finally nabbed the guy. Now he's a guest of the DA's office and available for future detective work. Make sure to check the links to the NY Times' story and photos. I think they've got the best version.

I'd like to see more of Fred. I think he could investigate the disappearance of many catnip mice in my apartment over the years.

One more thing

The past month has been one of the worst of my life. My marriage ended, one of my cats died, and to top it off I had a nasty cold. But the one constant throughout has been the Pittsburgh Steelers' run to a championship. The thought that if I could just get through the week I'd have another Steelers game to watch kept me going and gave me a reason to be happy, even if everything else was going to hell. So I'd like to thank the Steelers not just for winning the Super Bowl, but for giving me something to be really blissfully happy about for the past month.

And, to top things off today, #22 Georgetown rallied to beat #9 Pitt 61-58. The previous big win for the Hoyas was over Duke the day before the AFC championship game, so I thought today's win was a good omen. Now the big dance is just a month away....

GO STEELERS!!!!!!

It's two hours later, and I'm still giddy. I'm also exhausted, hoarse, and just plain drained from watching that game. The score might have been 21-10, but it was a much closer game than the score indicates, or at least it felt that way. I nearly had a few heart attacks, and during the 3rd quarter and into the 4th I had to go to the kitchen to wash dishes, I was so worked up. By coincidence or superstition or whatever, while I was working, the Steelers started turning the game around. When I ran out of things to wash, I had to go back to watching the game, and then the Seahawks made it a little more interesting. It was not a pretty game to watch, and the Steelers nearly gave it up a few times, but it doesn't matter.

THE PITTSBURGH STEELERS WON THE SUPER BOWL!!!

When the game was over, I screamed at the top of my lungs (my neighbors must think a maniac lives here) and then played the "Steelers Polka" and danced around the living room. I waved my Terrible Towel, shouted "Go Steelers!" at some passing fans, and made some celebratory phone calls to friends and family. I know *I* didn't win a championship tonight, but it's a fantastic feeling to watch my team win one. That's why I'm a fan. That's what it's all about.

I'm beyond happy that Hines Ward was the MVP. This guy was drafted the same year as Troy Edwards, only six rounds later, and despite outplaying Edwards in camp and in games, he couldn't get on the field for his first two seasons. Finally the team realized that Edwards was a bust and Ward was the real deal, and he became the big-game receiver the team had needed. Throughout his career, he's exemplified the Steeler way of playing the game. He's not flashy or brash, he just gets the job done, and in spectacular fashion.

Antwaan Randle El had that one great touchdown pass, and a few other excellent plays, but I'm surprised that nothing else came out of his nasty tackle in the first half. I thought for sure he was coming off the field on a stretcher, but not only did he get back up, he came back to make that unbelieveable touchdown pass on the run to Hines Ward. I hope the team can re-sign him, but I won't be the least bit surprised if he goes to another team. That's OK, we can always find playmakers. Same goes for Ken Whisenhunt, the offensive coordinator, who is likely to become the head coach for the Oakland Raiders. I thought Mike Mularkey's departure was a bad omen, but Whisenhunt came in and turned out to be a great offensive mind. Bill Cowher has a great record with assistants, so I'm sure we'll do OK if Whisenhunt leaves.

Speaking of Bill Cowher, I think this Super Bowl championship punches his ticket to Canton. 14 years coaching the Steelers, six AFC championship games, two Super Bowl appearances, and one title (and maybe more with this team... do I dare to dream?). He's got everything on his resume that he should need to make the Hall of Fame when he retires. And he's not done yet. The guy is only in his 40s and is now set for life with the Steelers. He could tank the next five seasons and he'll keep his job and I'll support that. He's won the big game. That's all he needed.

I can't believe that Ben Roethlisberger is not even 24 years old and he's taken the Steelers to a Super Bowl championship. Unbelieveable. I was excited when they drafted him two years ago, knowing even then that he was going to be a special player. But I had NO idea that he'd be this good this soon. He's got a long career ahead of him, and I hope it includes a few more titles for the Steelers. The AFC is a tough conference, and he's got some great quarterbacks for company -- Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, and Carson Palmer among them -- but I like his chances.

Finally, Jerome Bettis retires from pro football as a champion. What an amazing ending to what was already a Hall of Fame career. More than anyone else on the team, Jerome Bettis has been THE Steeler for ten seasons. Just a great, great guy and a fabulous football player. Congratulations, Jerome, and thanks for all those wonderful years and pounding runs through the line.

I have no idea what to do next. I'm definitely wearing my Steelers cap to work tomorrow, and I might just wear my Terrible Towel like a cape. Even now (12:35 AM), it's still draped over my shoulder. As with every year, I'm sad that the football season is over, but what a great way to go out. The party at my house was a hit again this year. James' chili was just as good, if not better, than last year, and our homemade pierogies got rave reviews. I think I scared some of my guests to the point that they'll never watch football with me again, but at least I've given them some great stories to tell their friends. I have to try to go to sleep now, but I don't think I'll be sleeping too much. I'm still keyed up. What a great, great night.

GO STEELERS!!!!!!

Why do I care so much about this team?

I just realized that I'm going to be a complete mess by the kickoff of Super Bowl XL on Sunday. I'm so excited already, I may not even be able to watch the game. Part of me wishes that I could just wake up on Monday morning and know the outcome, just so I can get past my own anxiety. This party ought to be interesting.

I've waited ten years to see my team back in the Super Bowl. It's been 26 years since they last won a championship, so long ago that I barely remember it and certainly didn't appreciate it at the time. I know that it's just a game, that whether Pittsburgh wins or loses my life won't change on Monday morning. I'll be the same person I am now because the team isn't playing this game for me. But it doesn't matter. When I see the Steelers black and gold, whether it's on a player's uniform, a fan's jacket, or a team tchotchke at home, it stirs a feeling inside me. It's a kind of love, irrational, intoxicating, and exhilarating. I was raised a Steelers fan, and my love for the team stuck with me throughout my childhood and into adulthood, even in the lean years when the team was awful. I know that I'm cheering for a uniform and a color scheme, not for players or coaches. I know that it's absurd to care this much about a bunch of millionaires playing a game. It doesn't matter. The Pittsburgh Steelers are MY team. They have always been my team, and they will always be my team. Even if they lose 10 games a year for the next 20 years, I will always love this team. Women, friends, jobs: they all come and go, but the Steelers will always be my team.

Magenta Catelinet, 1993-2006

I'm saddened to report that Magenta passed away last night at the vet hospital. He had rallied a little in the past few days, but took a turn for the worse yesterday afternoon. The vet called to warn me that he might not live through the night, and that he was prepared to put Magenta to sleep if he was suffering. Thankfully, Magenta died in his sleep, so he wasn't in pain in his final moments. I'm sorry that I couldn't be with him at the end, but I'm glad his struggle is over and that he's in a better place now.

Liz and I first met Magenta in 1999, when we moved to New York. He was seven years old and belonged to our upstairs neighbor, who used to let him out to play in the courtyard of our apartment building. Apparently he'd gotten fat because the other neighbors used to feed him table scraps. He met our cat Vladi right away, and soon Magenta was scratching at our door to be let in to wrestle with Vladi. When our neighbor moved to San Francisco, she asked us to keep Magenta until she got settled. But she never collected him from us, so we kept him. Even when she moved back to New York, she decided he was better off with our cats (we'd gotten Mr. Starlite from the shelter by that time) than with her.

Magenta (AKA Tubby, Fatty, Fat Bastard, Tubby Bitch, Fat Ass, etc. [he didn't seem to mind these nicknames]) was the fat cat in the household, constantly running into the kitchen to feast on whatever was in his bowl or on the floor as a result of my cooking. More than once, he climbed onto the kitchen counter and ate fresh vegetables I'd been saving for dinner. During a party, he ate leftover chicken out of an unsuspecting party guest's bag. Another time, he fought me over a pork chop bone and nearly took it from me. He also loved to attack smelly feet, sweaty socks, or any other dirty clothes we left out for him. Many mornings, we'd wake up to the sound of him yowling with pleasure as he humped a pair of sweatpants around the living room floor. And we had to stop giving him catnip because when he got some, he turned into the feline version of an angry drunk. He wasn't the friendliest cat in the house, but if you had food or smelled like food, he might decide to like you. He had had diabetes and eye problems, but he didn't let those things stop him from enjoying the good life of a cat. I'm really going to miss him. I already miss him when I pour water from my Brita pitcher -- he used to come running into the kitchen when I did that, and I'd pour some into his bowl. But I know he's better off now, free of his pain and suffering. And I still have two cats, Vladi and Starlite, who love me and need lots of attention in return. They're going to miss their fat friend too.

I've uploaded some photos of Magenta taken over the past four or five years. You can see them in
this Flickr set.

Rest in peace, my friend.

Clarification and explanation

Yes, Tuesday was a bad day. Wednesday wasn't any better. However, today has been looking up.

Without giving out too much personal information, on Tuesday I had to deal with two highly serious personal crises at the same time. Both of them continued into Wednesday afternoon. One of them is mostly resolved, or at least my direct involvement in it is finished.

The other crisis is my seriously ill cat, Magenta, who has a history of diabetes, irritable bowels, eye problems, and generally being a fat ass. He's been at the vet for a week (actually two different vets) and until yesterday was near death. When I saw him on Tuesday evening, he was in such poor condition that I was preparing myself for the worst. He's doing better today, although he's still in bad shape, but today's report from the doctor indicates that his health is moving in the right direction. I'm hoping that I can bring him home this weekend. So everyone please think good thoughts about my cat.

Jan. 24 is the most depressing day of the year

Thank God it's almost over. My day sucked. Tomorrow doesn't look much better.

GO STEELERS!!!!!

I still can't believe that the Pittsburgh Steelers are going to the Super Bowl. I've waited ten years to see them go all the way, since they played the Dallas Cowboys in Super Bowl XXX and lost. But ten years ago the NFC was the tougher conference and the Steelers had squeaked by the Indianapolis Colts to get to the championship. This time around, the AFC is the better conference, though that doesn't necessarily mean anything. The Steelers are hot right now, having won seven straight games and beaten the top three seeds in the AFC on the road to get to the Super Bowl. I hope that the two-week layoff and all the hoopla surrounding the Super Bowl doesn't do anything to blunt their effectiveness. They're playing an excellent Seattle team, with a coach who's been to two championships before and won one. But I'm cautiously optimistic about the Steelers' chances in the Super Bowl.

At least it should be a good party this year: I'm hosting it. The past two years the party has been in Brooklyn at James' place and we've had a great time, but with my new big TV and my team in the game I'm having the party at my place. I'll have to get some Steelers decorations, I might have to track down some Iron City beer, and we toyed with the idea of serving something resembling a Primanti Bros. sandwich. Instead, we'll stick to chili, nachos or dagwoods, and I'll wear the same clothes and follow the same pregame rituals as the past two weeks. I'm not superstitious, but I'm also not messing with success.

Near the end of today's game, I searched in vain for a cassette of Steelers fight songs that my mom sent me the last time the Steelers went to the Super Bowl. When I couldn't find it, I went to the Internet, where I easily found a site where I could get the "Steelers Polka" and a variety of other Steelers songs. The polka's lyrics are from the 1970s, but it's still the best of the many Steeler songs out there. I also like the 2005 version of "Here We Go Steelers," where the writer tries to find rhymes for "Roethlisberger" and work in the names of all the teams offensive and defensive stars. But it's better than the "Super Bowl Shuffle."

The highs and lows of entertainment

On Saturday afternoon, I went to the Metropolitan Opera's season premiere of Mozart's Die Zauberflote, directed by Julie Taymor (who directed The Lion King on Broadway, among other things). The production was amazing -- it had puppets, a revolving stage, and set design the likes of which I've never seen before. Musically the show was equally impressive. Papageno, Sarastro, and the Queen of the Night were all fantastic singers and actors. I've now see five operas at the Met, and this one was by far my favorite. It's also the last one I'm likely to see for a while, as it was the final production in my four-opera subscription and I'm not sure I'll renew it for next season. But it was a fantastic way to go out if it has to be the last one.

Later that evening, I met a group of friends for a showing of Underworld: Evolution. The outing was organized as a way to help one of our friends through a rough time in his life. I figured I'd go along and see if I could pick up any residual support that he didn't need. I hadn't seen the first Underworld, so I watched it on Friday night. It looked cool, but it seemed to be vampires and werewolves mixed with The Matrix. But at least I had some idea what the sequel would be about. The group convened at the theater at the appointed time, but there was no sign of the friend who had proposed this movie in the first place. As none of the rest of us were not Underworld fans, we were particularly concerned that the guest of honor would miss his own event. Sure enough, when we dialed his home number, he was still there, out of touch due to technical issues on his end, and clearly not going to make it to the theater in time. So, stalwart ticket-holders and movie-goers all, we resolved to see the movie anyway in spite of his absence.

I fully understand why the studio didn't screen it for critics. It wasn't a complete mess, but anyone who hadn't seen the first film would have no idea what was going on in the sequel. Fight sequences seemed to have been inserted at random, the love story is completely unbelievable, and the story is barely comprehensible. Derek Jacobi plays some sort of immortal, though whether he was a vampire, a werewolf, or something else entirely was left unexplained. I think he must have needed the money, because I can't understand how or why an actor of his stature was in this thing. Kate Beckinsale was easy on the eyes, and at least she wasn't doing her horrible Transylvanian accent from Van Helsing, but otherwise there's not much she can do to help this movie. It doesn't end with a cliffhanger per se, but the ending narration hints at more Underworld movies to come. I think I'll skip the next one. All I know is that I need to see a good movie now to get this claptrap out of my head.

Steeler heart attack

Folks, I was just kidding about the Steelers giving me a heart attack. As we all know, it's only funny until it happens to you. It's still funny, but slightly less so when it happens to someone else. If there were any play from any football game I've seen in the past five years that could possibly give someone a heart attack, it would have to be Jerome Bettis' fumble at the 2-yard line. I was just lucky I didn't choke on my drink on that play.

The Pittsburgh Steelers play on

I'm now convinced that I'm going to suffer a heart attack and die while watching a Steeler game. Not anytime soon, I hope, as I think I'm in good physical shape, but eventually, this team's going to kill me. During the 4th quarter of Sunday's playoff game against the Indianapolis Colts, when the Steelers had the ball on the Colts' 2-yard line with less than two minutes to go, I turned to James and asked him if next week would be the first AFC championship game under Bill Cowher that the Steelers didn't play at home. A few seconds later, Jerome Bettis fumbled, Nate Harris picked it up, and it looked like a sure victory was about to become defeat. I screamed at the TV, threw my Steelers cap, and nearly choked on my drink. I even wondered if Bettis would come back next season and play again if that fumble ended up as his last play. But the Colts' comeback ended when Mike Vanderjagt missed a field goal that would have tied the game, and the Steelers move on to play the Denver Broncos next week for the conference title and a trip to the Super Bowl. And my heart goes on beating for another week.

Once again, I am forced to consider why I invest so much emotion and energy in football. It's one of those irrational things that I just don't understand, no matter how many times I suffer along with the team. Every season, I say I'm not going to get emotionally involved, but I let it happen every year anyway. If this were a relationship with a woman, I'd break up with her. But the Steelers are different, and I think I'm comfortable with that. One thing is different this season: with so many other larger issues on my mind, whatever happens with my team seems much less consequential than in previous years. I'm just going to continue to enjoy the ride.

my new TV

I got my new TV on Sunday. It's a 27-inch standard definition TV (no HD for me yet), and it fits perfectly in my old Ikea entertainment center. It's not "new" new, but it's new to me. My father got it from his office several years ago, and it languished in a corner of his house during that time. He already had a big CRT at home, so he didn't need a second one. But he wouldn't let my stepmother throw away the spare, which I appreciated, as I had a sudden need for a new TV. James and I went to my dad's house this weekend and brought back the TV along with some other things my father had been storing for me for many years. Once we'd hauled the TV up two flights of stairs and I heaved it into place, at last I was able to enjoy TV as it's supposed to be in that entertainment center and in my living room. My old TV was fine, but it was a 20-inch screen, too small for the room it's in. This TV is the perfect size for the room. The Steelers-Bengals game looked spectacular on it, as have the rest of my usual shows. I watched a few minutes of a Star Wars DVD on it last night, and that looked so good I might have to curtail my practice of watching effects-laden movies on my computer instead of the TV (the PC monitor has better resolution that the TV). My only regret is that I didn't get this TV from him two years ago when I first moved to this apartment. Because I'm planning to replace my entire home entertainment system with HD components in a year or two (probably two). I'm waiting for flat-panel prices to fall even further, below $1000 for a 32-inch TV if possible. I'll also need to get a surround-sound audio system at that point, a HD DVD player (in whichever format wins the coming war), and a new low table or entertainment center to hold everything. I'm also thinking about how I'm going to pay for everything, as even in 2008 I'm looking at spending $2000 or more for everything. Maybe another book project? Or possibly a little white-collar crime, not the kind that would get me thrown into a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison.

Raise your hand if you're NOT sick

I've got a cold. I might have gotten it from some friends, who were both sick when we toured the American Museum of Natural History on Saturday. Or from any one of dozens of sick, coughing, sneezing kids nipping about my ankles and touching the same exhibits I was touching (the sign "touch here to feel the dinosaur bone" was clearly an invitation to all manner of horrible diseases). Or I might have gotten it from someone at work. Everyone I know is either sick now or has been sick in the past two weeks. People on the subways are coughing and sneezing all over. Some people I know got sick, got better, and are now sick again. I'm feeling better today than I did yesterday, so I think I've seen the worst of this virus. I feel well enough right now that I'm enjoying my first cup of coffee since Monday morning, and for those who know what a coffee freak I am, that's an eternity. But if this round of colds is an indication of what this winter's flu season will look like, I can't wait to see what happens when the bird flu arrives.

Larry David on Brokeback Mountain

The creator of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm writes in Sunday's New York Times about the gay cowboy movie. The ending made me laugh out loud.

New Year's resolutions

Last night's party turned out to be a better time than I expected, although I was a little tired from spending most of the day at the natural history museum. My peanut butter rice krispie treats with butterscotch topping were a hit, as they were all gone by the time I left. I was trying to recreate a recipe that I lost many years ago. When I left Georgetown, a co-worker gave me some of these rice krispie treats and then the recipe, which I promptly lost. My version came close to his, but I missed something or did something wrong. At least mine were good, and apparently popular, so I've got something to shoot for with the next batch.

When someone asked me last night what my New Year's resolution was, I panicked and said "get to work on time." It's not bad, but it's hardly the life-altering resolution I'd want for 2006. Besides, that was my resolution for 2005 and it worked out well. My real resolution for 2006 is to be more optimistic. I could be negative about many things in my life in the coming year, but it's not going to do me much good if I dwell on the bad stuff. There are also many ways to look positively at the same changes, and enjoy what's good about my situation. So that's what I'm going to try to do. 2006 will be a difficult year, no question, but if I try to be optimistic it can also be fun and exciting. I've got a clean slate this year, and that's a good thing.

Back home again

I got back to NYC on Thursday evening after two days in Reading, PA, visiting with my uncle and his family (they live in Boston but go to PA to visit my aunt's parents; it's a long story). Everything was in order at home, as I have a reliable cat sitter who makes sure the cats don't destroy the house. Since I'd missed a night of Hanukkah, I lit the candles for the fourth night and then immediately lit them again for the fifth night. Now I'm back on track.

I had a little adventure on Friday tracking down a UPS package that my friends in Pittsburgh had shipped to me before Christmas. I had tried to get the package re-routed to my office, but due to the strike or incompentence on UPS' part the re-routing never happened. However, the ZIP code in the tracking system did change, because last night the phone operator told me the package was at the UPS depot on West Houston Street. I went down there around lunchtime, but there was no package. The guy behind the counter told me to go to 180 Canal Place, which he said was in Manhattan, and gave me a phone number (with a non-Manhattan 718 area code) to call to confirm the package would be there. I tried the phone number, which of course didn't work, then called the UPS operator again to try to figure out just where the package was. After arguing with her for five minutes, she finally noticed the ZIP code problem and sent a message to the other depot to check for my shipment. While I waited for a call back, I stopped at Barnes Noble, checked a map, and confirmed that in fact the address was in the Bronx. A half-hour later, after UPS actually did call me to confirm they had my package, I was in the south Bronx at another UPS depot. Thankfully, they had the box, which turned out to be small enough they could have just left it next to my mailbox at home in the first place. I share this story with my few readers as a reminder: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send any packages for me to my work address, not my home address. As a working man, I'm never home when FedEx, UPS, or the US Mail try to deliver packages. If you're sending me something you'd actually like me to receive, the office is the best place for me to get your valuables. E-mail me if you need my office address.

The weirdest thing so far about living the bachelor life is that I talk to myself all the time. I'm getting self-conscious about it now. I'd like to think that I'm talking to my cats and that they're listening, but I'm talking when they're not in the room, and even if they were, they're cats and so they're not listening to me anyway. I'll have to find some way to break myself of this habit, because I don't want my neighbors to think I'm the crazy guy who always talks to himself. Although this is New York, and there are plenty of people in this town who mutter, shout, or yammer on when no one is listening, so if I joined them it wouldn't be a problem.

new pictures are up

They're photos of my visit with my friends in Pittsburgh and family in Reading, PA, at the Flickr site. I'll update the link on the right when I get back to NY.

the news at home

I'm on day 3 of my holiday visit to Johnstown. It's been all sorts of fun so far. My parents and my brother were all here on Christmas Day for presents and a Hanukkah dinner of brisket and potato latkes. Yesterday we went to Pittsburgh, where we visited with some of my friends and stopped to see an elderly relative, then we braved a Best Buy for a little after-Christmas shopping. We're just hanging out at home today, then tomorrow we're off to Reading, PA, to see my uncle and his family.

Last night, after Monday Night Football, the late local news came on. My mother warned me that that particular news was horrible, and she wasn't kidding. The anchor flubbed her opening, then she threw to a reporter in the field, reporting that "a crime has been committed in Blair County." Since this reporter didn't have a camera crew, she was on the phone. And she had no idea what was going on, only saying that there might have been a homicide, but the police weren't providing any details. I don't think she even said what part of Blair County she was in. The worst part was that the station didn't have a decent graphic to put on screen while she talked. Usually, when you have a reporter on the phone, you see their picture in one part of the screen and a map of their location in another part. The station's graphic did show the reporter's photo, although it was a terrible photo that looked like it was cropped out of a candid at a happy hour. The rest of the screen said "ON THE PHONE" and showed a picture of a cell phone. I'm not kidding. I guess that was the picture in case you didn't know what a phone was. We had to change the channel after that. The other local news stations here aren't much better, but that was one of the worst I've ever seen.

so much for the strike... now it's time to go home

I'm surprised the strike ended so quickly. After hearing all the rhetoric on the news Wednesday night I was certain the dispute would last through Christmas and into next week. When I arrived at the shuttle van stop on Thursday, one of my colleagues said that he thought it would be over that day, and I disagreed. It's a good thing we didn't make it interesting. Now I don't have to walk to Penn Station tomorrow morning to catch my train; it should be easy to get a cab at 8:30.

I'm blogging instead of packing, although I've got all my clothes in the bag already. I'm still thinking about DVDs and my usual assortment of tech gear, and I'm sure I'll forget something I'll want later. I'm only traveling for five days, so it's not like I need to pack for a month. And I finally received all of my gifts today, so I have at least one present for everyone in my family. I'm looking forward to my mother's cooking, seeing old friends back home, and just getting away from New York for a few days. This has been possibly the most difficult holiday season of my life, and in fact I'm looking forward to seeing it end. Many things in my life are going to change in January and I'm anxious to start making those changes. 2006 will be vastly different from 2005, and in a sense I'm ready to tackle that now. But first I've got to get through Christmas and New Year's Eve.

I didn't intend for this to be an end-of-the-year post. I will be online at my mom's house -- I'm taking my D-Link wireless router with me to hook up to her broadband connection so I can surf anywhere in the house. I am a geek. There may be some holiday blogging. If I haven't wished you a happy holiday in person or in your own personal e-mail from me, consider this post to be your holiday message. Have a safe and happy Christmas, Hanukkah, or whatever you're celebrating.

Thursday commute report

Wednesday night's ride home was better than Tuesday. I got into a van at 4:45 and we drove up through SoHo, the East Village, and then took Madison Avenue from the 30s up to 85th St where I got out. It was about an hour, as opposed to the two hours it took on Tuesday night. I was able to stop at the bank, buy another holiday gift, pick up my laundry, and get some much-needed groceries.

This morning was the worst commute so far. I arrived at the shuttle stop at about 8:20 to find six other people already waiting. A few more showed up until there were about 10-12 of us. We all waited over an hour for the shuttle to arrive. Four people bailed out and took a cab around 9:20, so when the shuttle did show up just after 9:30, we had 10 people to squeeze into a 7-passenger SUV. And we did it. We had two people up front (the driver and one passenger), four people in the middle two seats (no bench, just 2 seats, so they were sitting on laps or armrests), three on the bench seat in the back, and me and another guy riding in the trunk space in the rear. It was by far the least comfortable ride, but at least it was much warmer in the car than it had been outside. I've been here almost an hour, and my feet are finally warming up.

Thank God I don't have to work tomorrow -- the conditions are really starting to piss me off. The more I read about my fellow cyclists' commutes on my NY cycling e-mail list, the more I think about riding my bike to work. I'd have to get some new cycling clothes and a warm pair of shoes or boots to wear, and a light for the ride home, but I could do it. If the strike is still going on when I come back to work in January, I think I'll try riding to work. I'll miss out on the social aspect of the shuttle commute (getting to meet fellow Firm employees) but I'd rather spend an hour riding to work and freezing my ass off than standing around waiting for a shuttle van that might not even have enough room for everyone.

the trip home was not so much fun

I spent most of my day wondering how the firm intended to get us wayward Manhattanites home after they got us to the office this morning. Around 4 PM I got the e-mail saying that the first shuttle buses were leaving at 4:30 and the next ones at 7 PM. I got my boss to let me leave at 4:30, promising him that I'd work from home when I got there. I grabbed my stuff and hustled out the door to the designated waiting area on Broadway. But no one told me or the other few commuters that they'd moved the vans around the corner to Liberty St. Luckily I noticed one of the firm's office managers directing people to the vans and found the right one for my neighborhood. I had been chatting with one of my co-workers who also lives near me, and he and I squeezed into the back seat of the SUV, with a few other people already waiting to leave. We sat until 5:15 and then finally pulled away for what turned out to be a two-hour ride home. We took 3rd Avenue all the way north, and it was stop-and-go, but mostly stop, until we passed the Queensborough Bridge at 59th St. After that, it was a breeze, but getting to that point sucked. I was tired, starving, my left leg was cramping up, and all I wanted to do was get home. I walked in the door about 7:20, and we went right back out to Pizzeria Uno for dinner. I hadn't planned to go there for my birthday dinner, but when I saw on my walk home from the van that it was open I figured why the hell not. (In an odd coincidence, Liz and I had had dinner at a Pizzeria Uno in Washington, DC's Union Station exactly 10 years ago on my 22nd birthday.) It was the tastiest suburban restaurant food I'd had in a long time. Finally, I came home for good around 9 PM. I got to open a few birthday cards and presents (Master and Commander on DVD [I know it came out two years ago] and the deluxe edition of Who's Next) and try to get a little work done.

Now it's 12:30 AM and I have to decide what I'm doing tomorrow. I would dearly love to work from home, but I think I'll end up taking the shuttle van service again. The good thing is that I only have to do it for two more days, then I start my vacation and I can worry about walking to Penn Station on Saturday to catch my train.

"How'd you get to work today?"

That's the big story here in New York, where the transit union went on strike at 3 AM this morning. Wow! I never thought the union would give me such a great birthday present. Hell, I didn't realize they even knew it was my birthday. Anyway, I took my firm's shuttle van service near my apartment and rode downtown with five co-workers I'd never met before. The driver must have been a livery cab driver under normal circumstances, because he drove that SUV through traffic like it was a 4-door sedan. We all buckled up as soon as we passed the police checkpoint at 96th St. and the driver floored it for about five blocks. The commute took about an hour and 15 minutes; normally, the express train subway ride is about 20-25 minutes. So far I haven't heard how the office intends to get us upper Manhattan dwellers home tonight. I assume it's going to be the same system in reverse, but they could do something else with cabs if they can get enough. Tomorrow I might have to work from our midtown office, and I can just walk there. My holiday vacation starts on Friday, so I only have to worry about getting to work for two more days this week. Then I have to figure out what to pack and plan how I'm getting to Penn Station on Saturday morning for my train ride to Johnstown. Right now I think I'll be walking there and wearing out the wheels on my suitcase.

I took a few pictures of the traffic on Lexington Avenue this morning on my way to the commuter van stop. They're over on my Flickr site.

Could this be the worst birthday ever? 21 would be hard to top

It's December 20, which means that I'm 32 today. Happy birthday to me!

Once again, I'm waiting for word of a transit strike in New York, which would mean that the 7 million people who usually get around in buses and subways would be above ground trying to walk, take cabs, or bike to work. My firm has set up a shuttle van service from about 10 blocks away from my apartment, so I don't actually have to walk halfway to lower Manhattan tomorrow morning if there's a strike. On the other hand, I'm not looking forward to the fistfights and potential rioting at 96th St, where the police will have checkpoints to make sure that any cars going downtown from that point have at least 4 people in them. I have a feeling that it will be like the last chopper out of Saigon over there, with people fighting for cabs and offering huge sums of money to drivers to get them downtown. I'm bringing my camera to get photos of the chaos. At least it will be another uniquely New York experience to share with my family, friends, and this blog. But I'd prefer if the union stayed on the job. I'm a liberal Democrat, but I've been anti-union since high school. After enduring a divisive and disruptive "selective" teachers' strike my senior year (the teachers decided each day whether to strike or not -- we'd have school for a week, then no school, then back in school for a few days, then a strike day, etc.) I decided that unions were no longer necessary. This is the third potential transit strike I've been through in New York, and I'm getting tired of it. These are public employees, and it's against the law for them to strike. They face fines and possible jail time for striking, and I hope the state enforces those fines. If they're going to make the city suffer, I want each and every one of those workers to feel the pain too.

Adding to the troubles tonight was a sudden, late-night leak in our bathroom. I was just settling in to watch "PTI" when Liz hollered about a ceiling leak next to the bathtub. Our superintendent came right over to check it out, and it had already slowed by the time he appeared, but it was more excitement I don't need right now.

And, of course, there's the BIG reason why this might be the worst birthday of my life. If you haven't heard the news yet, e-mail me and I'll fill you in.

Dr. Phil sez "You don't need to go to school to find your inner moron."

More (fake) quotes like this one can be found at this wonderful site. Like

"You don't need gonorrhea to poop on a cracker."
"You don't need a sense of moral decency to watch Spongebob Squarepants."
"You don't need to watch my crappy show to rock me like a hurricane."

Some of them sound real enough that Dr. Phil might have uttered them.

waiting on a transit strike

Like clockwork, another three years goes by, and it's time for another possible strike by the transit workers' union here in New York. In December 1999, they threatened a strike up until the last moment, when they agreed to a contract. And again in December 2002, the strike talk and plans went on until and after the deadline, when the negotiations produced an agreement. Now it's December 2005, and the current contract expires at midnight tonight. Given that there hasn't been a strike here in 25 years, I shouldn't be too worried, but the rhetoric coming from the union doesn't make me feel good about the situation. One account of the union rally at Grand Central Station earlier this week noted that when the union head asked the crowd "what do we want?" many voices could be heard shouting "strike!" instead of "contract!" That's not what I had hoped to hear. As of last night negotiations hadn't made much progress, but since the last two contracts resulted from last-minute bargaining I expect this one to be the same. So I'll stay up until midnight tonight and see what happens, and if there's a strike I'll find some other way to get to work. It's supposed to rain and snow overnight and into tomorrow morning, so it will be wet and icy on the roads. If the weather were clear, I'd ride my bike to work in a heartbeat, but since it will be wet, I'll probably walk to 34th St. and take either the PATH train to the World Trade Center stop or take the water taxi to Wall Street. That's almost 60 blocks for me to walk, but I think I can manage it. It's about two miles -- not a fun walk in any weather, especially winter, but it's doable.

one holiday party down, one to go, and Tuba Christmas

We held our holiday party for our friends on Saturday evening at our apartment. The guest list swelled to 25+, which is about 10 more people than we've ever had here before, so I was apprehensive about how we'd get all these people in here and keep them happy. Luckily, as with most parties, not everyone stayed the entire time and some people arrived late, so it worked out OK. We supplied the drinks and a dessert (cupcakes from Eleni's Bakery) and our friends brought the food. By keeping the food in one room, drinks in another and people in the living room, we managed to keep the traffic flow under control. We had promised that there would be games, but with so many people spread all over the apartment, we ended up talking most of the time. I think near the end of the night a few people got a card game going, but I preferred to stick to polite conversation and working on the medium-strength hangover I had on Sunday morning. After everyone left, we threw out most of the leftover food, except for some of the cupcakes, and stowed the leftover alcohol for next time. Then we crashed and I slept off that hangover until late this morning. Monday night is the office holiday party, so it's a good thing I got my tolerance back up this weekend. I'd like to enjoy a Chimay or two without becoming the drunken life of the party.

On Sunday afternoon I went to Tuba Christmas at Rockefeller Center. I went last year but since I arrived just before it started I didn't have a great view of all those tubas and euphonia. This time I got there about 30 minutes early and found a spot near the ice rink with a good view of the musicians. I was jammed in with some parents whose kids were playing, including a woman whose 10-year-old was one of the youngest participants (his tuba was almost as big as he was). The music was just as enjoyable as last year, even with the conductor's loud, braying, off-key renditions of the words. I might have to find a friend in the group for next year, so I don't get into trouble with the stage moms. One of them actually said "I think that if you don't have a kid in this thing, you shouldn't get to stand down front." Yes, there were people in front of her blocking her view of her son, but if she wanted the best spot, she should have gotten there earlier, like I did. Next year I'll invent a cover story about my half-brother or cousin or someone who plays the tuba. I don't think mentioning my grandfather's tuba career or my father playing the euphonium back in college will curry much favor with a stage parent with a video camera.

Child's Play 2005

For the third year in a row, Penny Arcade is conducting their Child's Play Christmas toy drive for childrens' hospitals. This year, they've expanded the Amazon.com wish lists to 18 hospitals in the US, two in Canada and one in the UK. You can order a gift from Amazon.com and have it shipped directly to the hospital of your choice. Or you can donate money directly to the campaign via Paypal or check. I don't usually push charitable giving on my readers, but I think that sick kids are a worthy cause and I like to help out the guys who create one of my favorite webcomics. So if you feel like doing something special with your holiday bonus, send a few bucks their way.

I'm a "Stalker!"

My Jay Mohr sighting at Sweeney Todd on Saturday made the Gawker Stalker post today. It's about halfway down, and reprinted verbatim from what I sent in.

I will now return to blogging about sports, technology, and occasional happenings in my personal life.

Sweeney Todd

Saturday night's entertainment was a performance of Sweeney Todd at the Eugene O'Neill Theater. I got the tickets a few weeks ago after reading the review in the Washington Post and figuring that we couldn't miss Patti LuPone playing the tuba and singing. We weren't disappointed. The show is staged without a pit orchestra; the actors not only sing their roles, but play multiple instruments when they're not singing or acting. Michael Cerveris, who played Sweeney Todd, also played guitar, LuPone played tuba, and several others played cello, violin, accordion, flute, piano, bass, and percussion. I'm not a huge fan of Stephen Sondheim's music, but the performances here really brought out the energy and excitement in his songs. LuPone was terrific, of course, but the real star was Michael Cerveris. He was menacing but soft, tender but vicious. And the staging was simple: a backdrop of shelves with pots, pans, and other knickknacks, and just chairs and a large black coffin on the stage itself. The coffin served as a table, platform, podium, and occasionally a coffin. It wasn't my favorite of the Broadway shows I've seen (that would still be 2000's The Music Man with Craig Bierko) but it was definitely one of the most creative shows I've seen.

Also, at intermission I was standing at my seat thinking "I wonder if there are any celebrities here tonight." Just then, as if I'd conjured him out of the air, I saw Jay Mohr walking up the aisle. He was wearing a zip-up gray hoodie sweatshirt over a yellow T-shirt and jeans, and on his way back from the concession stand looked a little wobbly. I sent the sighting to Gawker, so hopefully I'll make the Gawker Stalker column this week.

A visit to "The Colbert Report"

Not long after "The Colbert Report" premiered on Comedy Central in October, I requested tickets to a taping. We went to last night's show at the studio on West 54th St. in Manhattan (the old "Daily Show" studio). The routine was the same as when we went to a TDS taping back in November 2000: we waited outside in line for about two hours, then went into the waiting room for another 15 minutes before getting into the studio itself. The stage manager made a few jokes and let us know how he would cue us to cheer during intros and commercial breaks. Then the warmup guy came out and made fun of some of the people in the audience and used a few jokes from his usual standup set. Finally, just before the taping, Stephen Colbert himself came out, running around the set and milking us for tremendous applause. He answered a few questions, staying in "character" the whole time, then they started the actual taping. If you saw the show Thursday night, we were sitting two rows up, directly behind Rick Springfield when he made his quick appearance to help Stephen get "Jesse's Girl" out of his head. But they used a camera angle that didn't have us in it, and it was dark where we were sitting anyway. After the Herb Alpert reference mid-show, when they played part of "Spanish Flea," the in-studio commercial break music was all Herb Alpert, and Stephen sat at his desk miming the following: playing a trumpet in time with the music, mixing himself a drink, and a little dancing. It was fantastic: I could practically see the shaker and tumbler in front of him. He flubbed one line in the last segment (about the face transplant) and they had to start over, which meant we had to laugh at the same jokes twice, but otherwise it was a fine show. I figured out why they leave all of Stephen's prompter mis-reads in the show. Each act is one continuous take, and if he messes up part of the "Word" segment (for example), they have to redo the show from the beginning of the segment, which might be five or six minutes. It's hard to laugh at the same jokes a second time, so I think it's a wise production decision to go with the flow the way they do. And he's making fewer mistakes, so it's becoming less of an issue. We would have loved to see the "On Notice/Dead to Me" list make another appearance, but that's probably a once in a while gimmick. Still, it was great fun, and I'll have to think about going to another TDS taping sometime just for kicks. I still want to be in Conan O'Brien's audience, too. I've got until 2009 to do that one (the show might move to LA after that, when he takes over Leno's job).

overdue Thanksgiving weekend review

On Thursday, we went to see Walk The Line, which was a good movie made better by the strength of the performances in it. Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon are clearly the early Oscar front-runners. And the music was just excellent. I might have to see it again. We went to Virgil's in midtown for Thanksgiving dinner with friends, and had some delicious smoked turkey, stuffing, potatoes, biscuits, and dessert.

On Friday, we saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which was a fair and accurate retelling of the book, though not as well done as Azkaban was. Brendan Gleeson was especially entertaining as "Mad-Eye" Moody, and we loved the ball scene during which Filch danced with Mrs. Norris, his cat. As usual, we can't wait to see the next movie.

On Saturday, we had dinner with some friends at Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem, then went home to watch the Transformers movie on DVD. Why, God? Why do the Autobots breakdance to Weird Al Yankovic's "Dare To Be Stupid" halfway through the movie, when they think their leader is dead? And who was the music editor for the movie? The soundtrack is all synthesizers and rock songs, most of which are upbeat and don't suit the action (robots being killed while happy music plays). We think that his voice-over role of Unicron, the planet that eats other planets, was what killed Orson Welles.

And on Sunday, we relaxed.

I've got that holiday feeling

In the "I can't believe it's already Thanksgiving" department:

I had expected the subway to be relatively commuter-free this morning, since today is the big travel day, etc., etc., but instead, I had to wait longer than usual for a train, and then it was even more crowded for a typical Wednesday morning. Work has been about what I figured, though: most people are out, so the only big issues are coming from our foreign offices, who don't know what this "Thanksgiving" holiday is all about. I had a busy morning working with one of our offices, trying to get one component of our now mixed Windows 2000/XP/NetWare/Active Directory environment to function. It's still broken, and they're going to reboot their servers tomorrow evening instead of tonight and see what happens. I guess I'll be doing some work on Friday morning now, though at least it will be from home if needed.

And now that the boss has left for the day, I think it's safe for me to do the same. (Of course, this is usually the time when I get an urgent call from the help desk to work on something that will keep me here until my usual departure after 6 PM.) If I think about it, maybe I'll try a little liveblogging about the Macy's Parade tomorrow morning, assuming I wake up early enough to see any of it. I'm making French toast for brunch, then we're going to see Walk The Line and have dinner with some friends at Virgil's in Times Square. Maybe I'll even get to watch some of the Broncos-Cowboys game, which should be better than the Falcons-Lions crapfest earlier in the afternoon. Whatever happens, I'm looking forward to passing out in a food-induced haze around 10 PM. Good times.

Protect yourself from the robots

Last week, the author of a new book on robots and the coming robot uprising chatted with Washington Post readers. I can tell you it's one of the top chats ever on the Post web site, rivalling even the zombie protection chat (the link to that one is at the end of the robot chat transcript). Of course, the whole thing reminded me (as well as one of the participants) of SNL's commercial for robot attack insurance for seniors, featuring Sam Waterston. Remember:

"You need to feel safe . . . because robots may strike at any time."

Christmas music?!? Already?!?!?

I know it's cliched to bash all things Christmas when they appear before Black Friday, but I'm still moved to write by the onslaught of Christmas music in the past few weeks. A few weeks ago, when we went to New Jersey for a wedding, my parents mentioned that they found an all-Christmas music station while driving to the wedding. That was November 4. On Sunday, my local pizza joint was playing Christmas carols while I waited for my order. That was November 20. Today, our cafeteria had Tony Bennett singing some holiday classic or another, and then the immortal "Feliz Navidad." I have never wanted to pop my own eardrums so badly. Then Liz called me from Macy's to tell me that they were having some kind of Christmas serenade near Santa's workshop/photo studio. It's too much. I had to cleanse my musical palate with Mozart and Bach, and I can still hear those holiday tunes in my head.

I know that the holiday is little more than a month away. I'm willing to get into the holiday spirit starting Friday or even Thursday while watching the parades. And I can understand Macy's turning on the Christmas charm this early (Liz says that the only reason they hold off until now is the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade). But can we hold off on the Christmas music in every other public space until the end of the week? Please? I swear, if I hear another Christmas song before I go home on Wednesday evening, I just might crack. Woe be unto the wayward waif who tries to squeeze a few more dollars out of my fellow commuters by subjecting my subway car to "Jingle Bells" before Thursday.

Overheard...

Scene: Last night, around 2 AM, in my apartment building's hallway. Girl who lives two floors up from us is coming home, talking to someone she's brought in with her.

"Those people have three cats. Not that apartment, THAT one." [Her voice is louder as she's walking past our door, heading upstairs.]
"And I bet that all their names are the names they'll give to their kids."

For the record, our cats are named Vladimir, Magenta, and Mr. Starlite.