Harleys, Cars, Girls & Guitars

Brick Snow Fort at NYU

Some things, only a college kid will do. You know, like camping out all night long to be first in line for tickets for the latest rock band. Or, building a beautifully crafted fort out of snow bricks.

Even with tuition at $40,000 a year, the undergraduates find time to fool around. This brick snow fort was constructed not far from my office. Last week, I happened across a nicely sculptured hand, middle finger stuck defiantly into the air.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a camera with me.

You'd think that the kids would get mighty serious, given the cost of their education at NYU. But, they're still kids, and they want to have fun.

We get so damned serious when we get older. At least, I'm awful damned serious. I can barely remember what it was like to be a college kid, doing things just for the hell of it. I guess that will have to wait for retirement.

Adventures of an Old Fool

Sometimes, when I'm riding the subway or walking in the city, I pass a beautiful young woman. I stare at her like the old fool that I am, and I'm always a little miffed when she doesn't look back.

I can remember, not so long ago, when the young women stared at me. My hair still bore color. My skin was not translucent and dotted with age spots. My body was still slim and muscular.

Especially, I stare at the young Chinese and Filipino women. In my mind, I'm still the dashing young man Myrna loved. An incredibly beautiful woman loved me! I almost have to restrain myself from screaming at pretty Asian girls.

“I'm not just a beat up, fat old man!” I want to scream. “You should have seen my wife! She was prettier than you!”

On occasion, I can tell that the young women are annoyed by my attention. I don't know my place. I should be chasing after old women.

For a few months, I tried the online dating sites again. But, I couldn't manage to gin up some enthusiasm for the old women in the pictures returned by my search. Their bodies were obviously breaking down. Their faces showed the signs of a lifetime of struggling.

When I was a young man, I reveled in lust. I chased after women because they were beautiful and sexy. And it worked! Sooner or later I found a woman who loved being chased because she was beautiful and sexy. Later on, we got around to actually knowing one another and, voila, love!

The yearning for a beautiful young woman hasn't subsided. Well, young now means somewhere around 40. If I had a fortune, I'd be ripe for the taking by some scheming young woman.

All I can do is look, and hope that the young things don't get so offended that they call the cops. One young Japanese woman on the internet dating site almost did, so offended was she that an old fart like me sent her a note of praise. She threatened to notify every authority that she could summon that I was a dirty old man who was bothering her.

It's only going to get worse. Myrna, where have you gone? You've left me out here all alone.

A Winter Chess Match in Washington Square Park

The temperature bumped up to the mid 30s yesterday, just enough for one of the speed chess hustlers to set up for a game in the park.  

This corner of the park is famous for its chess sharks. I believe that money changes hands in most, if not all, of the games.

I've seen the movie crews set up for a shoot here many times.

Two big chess shops do business 24/7 on Thompson Street. You can walk in and have a cappucino and play a game against a Russian grand master. No, don't look at me. My chess skills are very minimal.

Pictured above is The Village Chess Shop.  It sells chess sets of all kinds, books, lessons, etc.

This is one of the great things about New York City. No matter what you want to do, no matter how obscure or weird, your obsession will be served by somebody.

One day I will walk in and challenge a Russian grand master. Perhaps, I'll last more than a few moves. I'll have to practice up on my computer chess game.

The View Out My Office Window Today

Apparently, some oil was spilled on the ground outside my office at NYU. A crew has been busy for the past week, breaking concrete and stripping the old soil.

A small front-loader has been working just in front of my window. You've got to admire the operator's skills. One false move and that shovel could tear out the side of the building.

Today, the crew showed up with a shitload of equipment. I've never seen a lot of the stuff they're using. It's quite a show. And, they're doing it all in freezing temperatures and snow showers.

What's Wrong With this Picture?

As I walked along 9th Street from the Path station this morning, I took a close look at this brownstone that I pass every morning. Something isn't right here, I thought.

Yesterday was the coldest day in five years in New York. You wouldn't know it from looking at the ivy on top this luxury brownstone. It's midsummer green.

Why? Well, it's fake. A damned good fake, too. I took a close look at the building and discovered that the ivy has no roots.

The brownstones along 9th Street will cost you several million. I gave up that dream a long time ago. Many of them featured beautiful ivy supported by twisting roots that are as thick as tree trunks. I'd bet that many of these ivy plants are over 100 years old.

But, they are all dormant for the winter. If you want to be green in the middle of a New York winter, artificial ivy will have to do.

Rockamundo at Grasshopper's in Cedar Grove, NJ

I'll be back in Jersey on Friday night, playing with Rockamundo. This will be my second gig with the group. We're a tight band. Everybody's friends, and we have a lot of fun when we play.

Grasshopper's is combination restaurant/bar. It's a very lively place. While the crowd enjoys having a good time, it's not the sort of joint where you'd be afraid to bring your wife or girlfriend. Fun for the entire family.

At about 10 p.m., after the last diner finishes, we crank it up. I'm the guy standing by the kitchen door. If I'm lucky, the waitresses won't dump mashed potatoes on my head.

Peace Returns. Back to Business As Usual

After all the political hubbub, life has returned to normal in Washington Square Park. I usually show you a picture of the arch viewed from the south. Today, a picture of the arch facing south, taken from Fifth Avenue.

We've back to what we do best in New York City... pretending. Yes, that's what the world of the arts and media is all about. We pretend to be things that we are not. We emote over things that we don't really care about. It takes a lot of juice to create this world of make believe.

So, we need a semi-trailer truck full of generators and electrical harnesses to run the cameras and lights and tracking systems and computers. It's all packaged and on wheels! Good old boys in some shop customized this odd vehicle so that the sophisticates in the Big Apple could create their fantasy world.

Our play actors need a rolling wardrobe so that they can apply their makeup, wiggle into their costumes and stay out of the cold between takes. Once again, the good old boys have crafted an extraordinary custom vehicle for the task.

If you're interested, here's the website of the company that provides the location equipment.

Peace has returned to the city. Until the next phony crisis hits, we are back to creating our virtual realities here in the big city.

Finally, Who It's Really About

President Obama gave the memorial address that needed to be given last night. What's been missing in the past few days is acknowledgment of the searing pain and grief of the families who lost their loved ones.

I've been through it, so I know the horrifying pain and emptiness. Losing your nine year-old daughter must be unbearable. We should have spent the past few days in mourning, especially for that little girl.

Obama is not a gifted emotional speaker. He always seems detached. Maybe that was better for an event that cannot bear even another bit of emotion.

To his credit, Obama told his followers that they should stop seeking to blame their political opponents:

For the truth is that none of us can know exactly what triggered this vicious attack. None of us can know with any certainty what might have stopped those shots from being fired, or what thoughts lurked in the inner recesses of a violent man’s mind.

Whether his followers heard him and will cease blaming their opponents is still to be determined.

He also counseled something that is going to be pretty difficult given the rabid dog attack that many in his party launched on Sarah Palin:

Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together.

Forgiving the authors of this horrific attack on their perceived political enemies... well, that will take time.

The families of the dead have to go home and deal with the emptiness of their loss. I've been through it more than once. There really is nothing to say that will console them. They have many hard days and nights to face.

Death Threats Against Palin... From the Peace Loving Left

Watch this if you can stand it. The ultimate irony: the first serious female candidate for president is targetted for assassination for being a class enemy. Sarah Palin has the audacity to be a conservative. That's her sin.

The left has now fantasized that Palin is complicit in the mass murders in Arizona. Plotting revenge against her for her fantasized role in the crime was only the next logical step.

Where are the feminists decrying violence against powerful women?

I'm sure Palin understands the threat to her and her family. I hope she's got backups for the backups of her security team.

I Should Be in Florida... Another Blizzard

We got about a foot of snow in New York and New Jersey. I waded through the snow drifts to the train this morning. The cold and snow irritate the hell out of this old fart, but it's still a beautiful day in the city.

First, the standard picture of the arch in Washington Square Park. Beautiful.

This is a picture of the northwest entrance to the park. The snow is great for a few hours until everything is covered in soot and grime.

The last picture is at the intersection of 8th Street and Sixth Avenue. This is one of those jumbled Manhattan intersections of four or five different streets.

New York City, after all these years, I love you still.