I think that this picture, captured in the raw with my cell phone camera, is street art. Either way, I like it:

This is a test of the cell phone camera. I want to capture more of the raw, less filtered, street life.

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It was raining this morning on me as I walked from the gym to the office. Big fat, slow, lazy drops, coming down so reluctantly that I could practically track their trajectory before they plopped on the sidewalk. I was without umbrella today and that was just fine. By the time I got to my building, I was a bit wet. I rode up in the elevator with an elderly African-American man and we had the following conversation:

Me: Good morning, how are you this morning?

Him: I'm fine, thank you. How are you?

Me: Wet, mostly.

Him: Well, that's not all bad, is it? I mean, when you wake up from a good dream, you're wet, right?

Me: Different kind of wet but I totally see your point.

*Sigh* I heart this City.

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Friday night was a lot of fun. I will deliver a full report later. I got to work late today due to a physical and am struggling to catch up. The news from the doctor, while still awaiting the results of the blood tests, was good. My blood pressure is now 120/78, which she thought was very good. Beats me. I'm happy if she's happy, you know?

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We are dining tonight with some friends in the City, NYC, that is. The friends are Turkish and we are being taken to a Turkish restaurant. I happen to love Turkish food so I'm kind of looking forward to it.

I also happen to like going to ethnic restaurants with representatives of that ethnicity. You eat differently, I believe. You see that in Chinese or other Asian restaurants. Some things are just not meant to be eaten by the Gringo, or so the waiter or manager believes. And the tables around you get things brought to them that you cannot identify but which smell good and look, well, somewhere between yummy and interesting. You can try to remonstrate with the waiter and even try to break out a little phrase book to help communicate that you must, under doctor's order, have a portion of the scallop udder that the table next to you is having, and you want it steamed with chili sauce and then fried, just like them, but they never believe you. Sometimes, they may be doing you a favor but you resent the inherent paternalism just the same.

But, back to the Turkish place. I suspect we will eat things I've never seen before and I know that we will get better service than we usually do. The restaurant is reputed to be the finest Turkish restaurant in the City and our friends are probably regulars.

I am excited.

I am also aprehensive. Do you know why? Have you ever heard of Raki? No? I have. *Exagerated, but not without good reason, shudder* Raki is distilled.

Raki was first produced from the residue of grapes left over from wine making. When a shortage of residue started, spirits from abroad were imported and processed with aniseed. This went on till the First World War when, for want of raw materials raisins were used in the production of raki and sometimes even dried figs and mulberries. For good quality raki, seedless raisins and aniseed in Cesme (Izmir) were preferred. As the raki industry developed, aniseed agriculture grew and developed with it. When alcoholic beverages were prohibited at one time, underhand producers lost no time in taking steps. The administrative authorities, especially in small towns, turned a blind eye to the illegal production of raki so long as it was made in accordance with the technical rules. In many houses meat grinders were used for mincing the raisin, large basins formerly used for daily washing were now used for fermenting the grapes and oil cans were converted into distilling apparatus. The raki which was usually without aniseed and which often contained materials harmful to health were distributed to by children, in the evenings, when the streets were no longer crowded.

Today in Istanbul, drinking raki has its own traditional rituals. Most important is what it is to be partaken with. White cheese is the main and unchangeable "meze" of raki. Raki is usually drunk with cold dishes like tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce and seafood. Fish is also a favorite, especially mullet and mackerel. Due to the aniseed it contains, raki changes color and becomes a milky white when water is added and a glass of pure water to go with it gives a distinct pleasant taste.

Source.

Distinct pleasant taste until it knocks you on your ass and makes you its bitch. That's what it should have said there.

Raki is an important part of Turkish dining. I suspect that it will play a role in tonight's dinner. This is why I booked a car service to drive us home and why I am front loading on the water, now.

It is going to be a long night, filled with food I may not be able to recognize, drink which has already declared me a hostile combatant, and sub-arctic temperatures outside.

I can't wait! Have a great weekend, y'all!

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Andrew Cusack has a terrific post about the New York Society Library today, the oldest private library in NYC, and I commend it to your attention. But it got me to thinking about my favorite private library, the Mercantile Library:

The Mercantile Library of New York was founded in 1820 by merchants and their clerks before the advent of public libraries. By the mid-nineteenth century, it was thriving as one of the foremost cultural institutions in the United States, with an extraordinary collection of books in the humanities, and a popular lecture program that featured such renowned speakers as William Makepeace Thackeray, Frederick Douglass, and Mark Twain. The Library offered classes on many subjects and was considered a meeting place for social and educational pursuits.

The coolest thing about the Merc. is:

The Mystery and Detective Collection. The fiction is particularly strong in mystery, and is arguably the best circulating mystery and detective fiction collection in the United States.

This makes it my favorite place. I loved the collection of out of print mystery fiction.

They also have reading groups for Proust which sound like they could be fun, depending on the other participants, of course.

Finally, go check out their links page for links to the Mystery Writers of America (in residence at the Merc), the Trollope Society (also in residence), and U.S. Membership Libraries.

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I was flipping though the Daily News yesterday when a small item caught my attention. Two Bonnie and Clyde wannabes stuck up a local bank. No one got hurt and it looked like the two evil criminal geniuses were going to get away clean. Then, they had a small mishap. The driver of the get away car crashed into another car. Their luck gets worse. The car they hit? A NY City Police patrol car. The thieves were arrested and carted off to jail. They take a dim view of bank robbery in NY, I believe. From the car, the police recovered the $750 stolen from the bank and two crack pipes.

Is there any clearer indication that drugs are bad and make you stupid? Crack, I assume, has fogged their minds so badly that they risk hefty jail time for a couple of rolls of quarters and eroded their driving skills so totally that they crash into the police. No, if they were not using drugs I bet they could have stolen a lot more money by working on Wall Street.

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This weekend, my wife and I stayed over in NYC. From our room, we had the following view of the new and improved MOMA:

It was a nice view of the museum prior to its reopening.

It was also quite nice to have an adut only evening away.

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This from the Metropolitan Diary today (a beautiful moment of perfect NY co-existence):

As Jay Jennings was walking to work on 34th Street during the recent Jewish holidays, he waited while a line of Orthodox men entered a synagogue in front of him.

A hip-hop kid, in basketball jersey and baggy jeans, stopped beside him, looked over the line of men in black hats and suits and nodded.

"Yeah," he said to no one in particular, "kicking it old school."

This fits perfectly with this moment which I blogged about some time ago.

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How many of you have heard of the Cooper Union in New York City? Its full name is the Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art, it is located in the East Village and is the only "private, full-scholarship college in the United States dedicated exclusively to preparing students for the professions of art, architecture and engineering".

It is also the site of one of the most significant speeches Abraham Lincoln ever gave. It was his coming out party on the Eastern Seaboard and many consider it to be what got him elected. The speech was intended to provide a platform for Lincoln and the Republican Party and was also intended to make clear that slavery was wrong and that its spread into the new states and territories was not constitutional. Harold Holzer just wrote a very good book about the subject entitled: Lincoln at Cooper Union : The Speech That Made Abraham Lincoln President. It's on my list of books to read.

The Cooper Union is, at its heart, a place for the study of architecture. And it is now going to build a new building, according to the NY Times. A new building for architecture studios is always fraught with difficulty. Sometimes the architect of the new building is over-tempted to produce a masterpiece, since he or she knows that it will be seen by budding architects for many years to come. I have to wonder if the pressure got to the architect here:

It kind of looks like it is going to slide and fall off the building. doesn't it? Still, it sounds extraordinary:

[T]he new building evokes a delicately calibrated machine. The ground-level lobby and retail spaces will be entirely sheathed in glass and set slightly back from the street. Above, the lab and studio floors are supported by V-shaped concrete columns that give the structure a more tenuous relationship to the ground. The screenlike facade, meanwhile, is composed as a series of horizontal metal bands that will open and close to control the flow of light into the building.

The screening system will be familiar to anyone who has followed the firm's recent work. It is a virtual copy of the facade of Morphosis's Caltrans District 7 headquarters, a state building currently under construction in Los Angeles, yet the differences are meaningful.

At Caltrans, the huge mechanical screens have a belligerent quality. Set on a computerized timer, they open and close in unison according to the position of the sun. Mr. Mayne says that the Cooper building's screens will be more delicate, like a woman's nylon stocking. What is more, students will be able to control the screens from inside their studios. The effect will be more varied and unpredictable - less a vision of bureaucratic conformity than of a vertical hive buzzing with activity.

That notion of a communal hive becomes explicit on the Third Avenue facade, where a large section is cut away to reveal a curved section of the interior atrium. A series of slender glass-enclosed walkways extend along the atrium's surface, where students will be seen crossing back and forth between the various labs and studios.

The web site for the architects is pretty cool, too: Morphosis.

The Cooper Union is an interesting place. Go check it out if you find yourself in the area.

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To those who never came home, three years ago today,

To those whose cars remained parked at suburban train stations in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey long after everyone else had gone home;

To those whose apartment doors had newspapers delivered but unread in front of them;

To those whose cell phones went straight to voice mail and were never picked up;

To those whose families never got to say goodbye and, even more heart rending, to those who's loved ones did speak to them in their final moments;

To those who charged into those dying buildings without regard to their own safety;

To those who stopped, in New York, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania, and never started again;

We remember. May God grant you peace.

And, Mary Joe? We remember you and we miss you. I hope it was really quick.

Today is September 11. Pause a moment and remember. Then go spend some time with people you love.

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Andrew Cusack, one of my Westchester neighbors (almost), posts some beautiful photographs of the 65th Street Armory on Park Avenue. They got me thinking that it's been awhile since I did a "Great Building" post. While I figure out one to do, go check out Andrew's page. He covers it very nicely.

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Sign seen affixed to homeless guy's shopping cart this morning while walking to office from train station:

Repent: Judgment is Coming

My thought in response:

That's why we have appellate panels.

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I am going to try to take part in Inter-Munuvian Hockey Whoopass Jamboree. I have selected the NY Rangers, the home town team, and will be posting their shield somewhere on the blog soon. Assuming that there will be a hockey season this year, and assuming that people still care, I'm planning on trying to care a little bit one more time.

The Rangers finished last year second from the bottom of the Atlantic Division with 27 wins, 40 losses and 7 ties. It is not looking like this coming season will be a breakout crazy win filled season by the way.

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1 islanders been with them a long time...

Posted by: kbear at August 25, 2004 01:16 PM (IAJcf)

2 More of a Panthers fan myself, though I'm constantly asking myself why...

Posted by: Mick at August 25, 2004 01:30 PM (VhRca)

3 We don't have a hockey team in CT. Do We?

Posted by: Stephen Macklin at August 25, 2004 10:27 PM (U3CvV)

4 Poor Stephen-still missing the Whalers, huh? RP-even though you support the Rangers and I support what will be the winning team (the Stars), I still count you as a good friend. No hard feelings when my team wins, ok?

Posted by: Helen at August 26, 2004 05:17 AM (Ug34A)

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They must get a less profane group of construction workers slightly farther uptown from me. The following was from the NY Times Metropolitan Diary today and I thought it was charming:

Overheard by Patrick Keeffe recently as he walked to the office: a group of construction workers sitting on a terrace wall on 52nd Street, outside the CBS building. One guy pulled a cellphone from his pants pocket. Another said, "Hey, you shouldn't carry that in your pocket; it could make you impudent."

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There is a spot, in Washington Heights, where you can pull your car over and get a great picture of the George Washington Bridge. I tender it here for your pleasure.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:29 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 You take beautiful photos RP, a talent I lack completely. I love how the break in the clouds is poisition right over the support beams. That is so cool.

Posted by: Rachel Ann at August 19, 2004 08:36 AM (8T53U)

2 Thanks, Rachel, but I cannot take responsibility for the placement of the clouds.

Posted by: RP at August 19, 2004 08:46 AM (LlPKh)

3 Thank you for this picture. Ahhh yes. Memories. As a Hick from the Sticks, I visited New York in 2000 for a wedding of a friend. Driving over the George Washington Bridge at 2:00 a.m. I was shocked at the amount of traffic. Bumper-to-bumper at 2:00 a.m.! This truly IS the city that never sleeps! Being dumped off the bridge for construction. "Look! Urban blight!" "Ohmigod. A real, live, breathing NY Hooker!" Blasting Billy Joel's "New York State of Mind" from the rental car's admittedly lousy speakers. I walked into an all-night deli and requested that a group of (very sporting) young men tell me to "F*** OFF!" (Yes, I have no shame.) (They delighted in my soft, southern accent -- that I didn't know I had.) Consuming the BEST DAMNED BAGEL IN THE WORLD. WA state may have the best coffee in the world, but I've never had a bagel that good. As I said, thanks for the memories.

Posted by: Emma at August 19, 2004 03:51 PM (NOZuy)

4 yes...memories... i can hardly wait to see it again... soon - the second week in september i am smiling right now - thanks

Posted by: kbear at August 20, 2004 08:03 AM (IAJcf)

5 Emma, thanks for that wonderful comment. Brought a big smile to my face! Come on home, K!

Posted by: RP at August 20, 2004 05:30 PM (LlPKh)

6 I love the George Washington bridge, when I think of it I remeber freedom and respect. It's just a perfect view of life in newyork.This bridge represents alot!Thanks for reminding me of this wonderful cite RP. Makes me feel great to know somebody still cares!Great picture status I can tell.

Posted by: Shaquanna at February 25, 2005 05:43 PM (WLUGe)

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AJ Liebling is probably most widely known for his oft-repeated quotation that: ""Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one". In that regard, we might even consider him the spiritual father of blogs everywhere. If you disagree, just look at all the guest bloggers at the recent Democratic Party Convention where the blogger was elevated to the status of journalist and publisher in one fell swoop. But, that's not why I want to write about him. I want to call him to people's attention because he was a fantastic writer.

This is from a biographical sketch I found on him on the net which also has a nice list of the books he published:

After early schooling in New York City, Liebling wrote in The Wayward Pressman that "I went up to Dartmouth in the fall of 1920, lacking a month of being sixteen". Liebling did not finish his schooling at Dartmouth, claiming they threw him out for missing compulsory chapel attendance. He then enrolled in the Pulitzer School of Journalism at Columbia University and after finishing there, took the job at the Evening Bulletin. After his stint in Providence, Liebling went on to report and write for New Yorker magazine. While employed by New Yorker he served as a war correspondent; filing many stories from Africa, England and Europe. Following the war he returned to regular magazine fare and for many years after he wrote a New Yorker monthly feature called "Wayward Press". Liebling was an avid fan of boxing, horse racing and eating, frequently writing about each. In 1947 Doubleday and Company published Liebling's The Wayward Pressman, a highly quotable collection of his writings from New Yorker and other publications. Liebling's father was employed in New York City's fur district and his mother grew up in San Francisco. Liebling was married to Jean Stafford, a poet.

I am a big fan of Mr. Liebling and am re-reading his wonderful book, Between Meals, describing his time in Paris in 1926-27 when, as a 22 year old, his father gave him the gift of a year of study in the City of Light. The title refers to the fact that Paris, for him, became one long study in eating and drinking and this book is about that and what he did in the time between his meals. It includes time spent boxing and time spent rowing. It is a marvelous memoir.

How could you not love someone who writes like this about Vodka:

The standard of perfection for vodka (no color, no taste, no smell) was expounded to me long ago by the then Estonian consul-general in New York, and it account perfectly for the drink's rising popularity with those who like their alcohol in conjunction with the reassuring tastes if infancy -- tomato juice, orange juice, chicken broth. It is the ideal intoxicant for the drinker who wants no reminder of how hurt Mother would be if she know what he was doing.

Click below on extended entry for the rest (I put this in bold for my wife, who has problems with the extended entry function and I figure if she does, someone else might).

more...

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This was from today's Metropolitan Diary in the NY Times:

One recent afternoon, I was waiting in line at the silver counter at Tiffany. A woman ahead of me had just purchased a bracelet and was filling out a gift card. She looked up and asked the salesclerk, "How do you spell 'bar mitzvah'?" The salesclerk didn't hear her. I intervened.

"Bar mitzvah?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded.

"Didn't you buy a bracelet?" I asked.

"Why, yes I did," she answered.

"So it's for a girl?"

"That's correct," she said.

I explained: "Well, bar mitzvah is for a boy. Bas mitzvah is for a girl. So you should say 'Happy bas mitzvah.' " She thanked me, then I asked, "Do you know if they are Sephardic or Ashkenazic?"

Her face dropped. "Oh my, I have no idea. Does it matter?" she asked.

I replied: "No, not for the purpose of a gift. But if they are Ashkenazic, it's bas mitzvah, Sephardic is bat mitzvah."

"So how do I spell it?" she asked. I told her. She smiled and said: "I'm visiting from Milwaukee. Thank you for all this information, it's so interesting." She looked a bit sheepish and said, "I don't know any of this; I'm a Catholic."

I said, "So am I."

Surprised, she asked, "My goodness, how do you know all this information?"

I responded matter-of-factly, "I live here."

Brian Honan

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WARNING: PROFANITY

Construction Worker 1: Holy shit. That motherfucker just told me that it was going to be another fucking week.

Construction Worker 2: Well, fuck him, that fat motherfucker .

Wide Eyed Little Girl, aged approx. 6: Mommy! They said a bad word!

Who says kids don't learn anything when school's out?

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I was reading the profile this morning of a senior official at the Department of Homeland Security, Transportation Security Administration and this line about JFK Airport in NYC just jumped out at me:

In the last year, Transportation Security Administration screeners have intercepted more than seven million prohibited items. Typically, it's knives, guns and scissors. But you would not believe how many recreational handcuffs I have seen in property rooms at airports around the country. I don't want to single out J.F.K., but the ones I've seen there were lined in everything from suede to fake fur.

It's like I've been telling you, NY is more fun.

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1 Funny, I went through an airport security with a pair of them last autumn. No one tried to take them from me, and that's a good thing, since I love my recreational handcuffs

Posted by: Helen at August 03, 2004 08:34 AM (pS7+B)

2 You must have been travelling through some of those "sophisticated" European airports, Helen!

Posted by: RP at August 03, 2004 09:02 AM (LlPKh)

3 Sorry, RP-it was in San Francisco. I blogged about it, too (not trying to pimp my blog here, just FYI) http://everydaystranger.mu.nu/archives/005396.php

Posted by: Helen at August 03, 2004 09:14 AM (pS7+B)

4 SF? Might as well have been Europe. They're pretty "sophisticated" in SF, too. Not like us simple folk here in NY. I'll go check out the link. It ain't pimping, Helen, unless you're dressed for it and all macked out. Besides, I already have you as one of my "good reads".

Posted by: RP at August 03, 2004 09:20 AM (LlPKh)

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I stole some time out of my day today. I just reached into my employer's back pocket and plucked it right out. It was about a half an hour, but it was mine, all mine, and it was glorious. It was freedom and it was irresponsible and it had no agenda or address or anything and it was mine, all mine.

I took papers down to court this morning to file with the motion support office at the Supreme Court of the State of New York for the County of New York, (known to us lawyers as Supreme New York or simply S/NY). This courthouse borders on the surreal. No, well, it may, but what I meant to say was that it borders on Chinatown. I handed in my papers which the clerk accepted without a problem (which is always nice and never a sure thing) and headed off with no agenda to wander the streets a bit. Chinatown is congested, smelly (lots of fish markets), filled with tacky gift shops and just downright fun. Probably because of all of those things.

I walked through the park behind the courthouse and observed a beautiful tai chi class conducted to music and using swords in an intricate and very controlled ballet of movement and internal tension. I also was treated to the odd spectacle of Chinese senior citizens, looking very fit, stretching and twisting on the jungle gym. No kids, mind you, but lots of senior citizens. Their teenage grandchildren, quite a bit less fit looking, were screwing around on the basketball court.

Most of my favorite stores were still closed, so I couldn't do any serious shopping. I had decided to see if I could break some international trademark laws and buy my wife a cool knockoff bag. She's been a bit down of late and a bag never fails to cheer her up. Unfortunately, none of the knock off stores were open yet. However, our favorite bakery was open. Ever have coconut cream bread? It is so yummy, being both sweet and salty at the same time. I bought four pieces for the kids, wife and nanny. I also got two lotus leaf sticky rice packages for the kids. The girl child ought to enjoy unwrapping the package and eating the sticky goodness contained therein.

I then ducked into a little galley of a shop, it was long and no more than 7 or 8 feet wide. It was crammed to the gills with food products from: Malaysia; Thailand; Indonesia; and other exotic locales. I bought some new chili sauces and some Thai fried garlic bits and Thai fried red onions. I passed on the Thai anchovy snacks. They were pieces of anchovy fried in palm oil and seasoned with chili, salt and sugar. The owner of the store insisted that I try one out of the open container he had on the counter. He claimed that they were a great seller and good for your bones to boot. It was chewy, spicy, sweet, and tangy. In fact, it was a bit too chewy and dry for my taste. I ate one but passed on the entire package.

I tasted the anchovy snack all the way back to the subway and wondered, is that fishy taste the taste of adventure or the taste you have in your mouth that signals the return to responsibility?

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