Friends and fans, it has been a whirlwind of a few weeks since I last updated you on my life. For those of you I haven't seen or spoken with directly, here's the scoop: I interviewed (phone) at a Berekely-based nutrition and energy bar company at the end of November. It was my first in 6 years, and it didn't go particularly well. BUT it was also probably a blessing in disguise in that 2 days later I interviewed (also phone) with a Portland, OR- based fitness equipment company. This one went well, and I talked to 2 more people the next week (again phone). For those of you who haven't done much interviewing lately, one trick is to stand and smile. Really. I was told it makes people think more positively and actively, and all of that nervous energy has a place to go.
So the same company called me on Thu Dec 8 and asked if I could be flown out there on Sun for a day of interviews on Mon. Heck yeah! The day went well, I liked the people a lot, and the job is developing/managing a brand of indoor cycling products, so it's right up my alley. Plus the company's fitness center would make your jaw drop. Unfortunately, I didn't meet one VP who was out of town, so after I returned I was asked to talk to him for what hopefully would be one final phone interview. It was, and on Fri night, I got a call from my future manager with the offer and most of the details! Whoo-hoo!
I am still waiting for the offer letter, but unles there is anything surprising in the letter, I will be headed out West sometime in January. (I won't go in to how sad I will be for leaving so many friends here just yet...although it is much of what I think about now.)
Yes, this has been a very big deal, but a few other things that I wanted to tell you about. First, I missed the Condo Board's Holiday party. They (not me) had decorated the lobby festively, although I don't think a purple candle represents Kwanzaa appropriately. Signs were put up on every floor, and I could hear rumblings and murmers about the potency of Steven's punch. Truth be told, wild horses couldn't drag me to this, although at some point I could simply use my "special key" to access the digital recordings of the evening...
The second tidbit to report was an interesting occurance on my flight out West. Sitting on my right was an Allanis Morrisette-attractive woman, slightly older than me, reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting." To my left was a squeaky-voiced 13 year old kid, who was fidgety, had what seemed like 6 coats with him, and nothing or do for a 3 hour flight. That was, until I learned that this kid was in the midst of a budding romance at 30,000 feet. Between talking with the woman (who was adopting a Guatemalan boy) and trying to read, I tried to ignore the boy's constant popping up and down to look at someone in a row ahead. Soon after we took off, an older boy walked down the aisle and tossed a crumpled note to the kid beside me. With the seats so close, and my curiosity peaked, with a sideways glance I read the note: "Hi, my name's Brennan. I normally am pretty shy about this kindof thing, but I think you are cute. I am 17 and I am going to Steamboat. My number is ___ , maybe you can text me."
Holy crap, I thought. Kids these days certainly move fast - a gay romance unfolding right next to me. The 13 year old, whose father was a couple rows back, then spends the next 2 hours in and out of his seat, scribbling a note, then tearing it up, then scribbling a new one. Finally he writes one with his name, age, school name, compliments about the other boy's scarf and hat (I think they are both future dungeon masters), and phone number. After the 17 yr old walks toward the back, the 13 year old waits until he returns and passes the note to him. When the flight lands, the boy couldn't wait to open his phone and immediately gets a call from the older one. What I heard was: "Hi, I'm Chris. Yeah, me too. Hey, my dad is going to Vail, so wait until he leaves. Un-huh."
After getting off the flight, I forgot about the boys until I saw first one and then the other head into a men's room. Fortunately that's the end of my story of the little gay airport romance. At 13, I barely knew how to slow dance with girls in my grade to Lionel Ritchie, never mind meeting a 17 year old girl at an airport with my parents. Ah, kids these days...
That's it for now. Enjoy your week, and enjoy what remains of your civil liberties, too. NATHAN
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Forty-eighth posting - Arabia
Not much going on lately in my world, except I’ve been thinking (hard) about what I’m going to do when I leave this company. There is a fitness equipment/bike apparel company on the West Coast, a few environmental nonprofits in Washington, a toy company in San Francisco, the world of public television, and so on. All sound great on paper, but I haven’t been to a single one yet.
I have spoken with two companies so far. I’d give my first phone interview a 3 out of 10. The second I’d give a 9. The difference between the two was that I felt in control in the second, and completely under water during the first. I just realized today about the control thing. While I’m not the kind of Type A that a lot of people here (at the office) are, I still qualify under a definition of “relating to a behavior pattern marked by tenseness, impatience, and aggressiveness.” I am impatient with a capital I. Oh, if anyone has a suggestion for a weakness other than “I tend to have messy handwriting,” please let me know.
My Thanksgiving was good, although because of an unfortunate death of an older relative, this was one of my first without my immediate family. I spent it with friends in Washington, and we shared the traditional turkey and sides and random conversations that I enjoy. Over the weekend (actually, over 3 days) I saw Lawrence of Arabia, which does not star, as I’ve been corrected twice, Sir Lawrence Olivier. Peter O’Toole, however, was a bit of a freak, although this is clearly an epic film with few peers. This was also a weekend of Tex-Mex times two, which made it even better. Most of you know that the more Tex-Mex I eat, the happier I am. In my prior life, I was probably from somewhere close to the Rio Grande…
Last thing. I heartily recommend Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential – as a book on tape (or CD). I’ve listened to it – read by the chef himself – and found it amazingly fascinating. My lofty dream of owning and/or running my own restaurant has been triumphantly squashed, although I may be interested in joining someone as a silent partner (you know, the kind that puts in a very small amount of cash, eats for free whenever he wants, but otherwise has no real responsibilities). Is that too much to ask?
NATHAN
I have spoken with two companies so far. I’d give my first phone interview a 3 out of 10. The second I’d give a 9. The difference between the two was that I felt in control in the second, and completely under water during the first. I just realized today about the control thing. While I’m not the kind of Type A that a lot of people here (at the office) are, I still qualify under a definition of “relating to a behavior pattern marked by tenseness, impatience, and aggressiveness.” I am impatient with a capital I. Oh, if anyone has a suggestion for a weakness other than “I tend to have messy handwriting,” please let me know.
My Thanksgiving was good, although because of an unfortunate death of an older relative, this was one of my first without my immediate family. I spent it with friends in Washington, and we shared the traditional turkey and sides and random conversations that I enjoy. Over the weekend (actually, over 3 days) I saw Lawrence of Arabia, which does not star, as I’ve been corrected twice, Sir Lawrence Olivier. Peter O’Toole, however, was a bit of a freak, although this is clearly an epic film with few peers. This was also a weekend of Tex-Mex times two, which made it even better. Most of you know that the more Tex-Mex I eat, the happier I am. In my prior life, I was probably from somewhere close to the Rio Grande…
Last thing. I heartily recommend Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential – as a book on tape (or CD). I’ve listened to it – read by the chef himself – and found it amazingly fascinating. My lofty dream of owning and/or running my own restaurant has been triumphantly squashed, although I may be interested in joining someone as a silent partner (you know, the kind that puts in a very small amount of cash, eats for free whenever he wants, but otherwise has no real responsibilities). Is that too much to ask?
NATHAN
Monday, November 21, 2005
Forty-seventh posting - cameras
Friends,
As of January 1, Marie Antoinette and I finally will have something in common. I have kept this a secret from most of you, but I’ve been aspiring to be more like her for years. I didn’t expect it to come as a result of a myopic corporate decision, but at the youthful age of 37, the head of the former Queen of France was severed from her royal body – just as I will be “severed” from my current employer at age 35. It has been a good run (5 years), and my severance package is far better than the Queen’s, but I leave behind many good friends, a free gym, Frank the cheap barber, and a nice company store discount.
So what’s next, you may ask. There are several paths I can take. The easiest but least desirable would be to go to an equivalent big consumer packaged goods company. There are lots of marketing jobs around, and I could probably swing a promotion out of it, too. But I’d probably be faced with the same challenges, albeit with diapers or cranberry juice or candy bars, rather than cereal or kids drinks.
Another option would be back to the nonprofit sector. Again, there seem to be quite a few positions out there – most at the VP level – but at this early stage, it’s hard to tell if these would be great jobs at great organizations, or crappy jobs at great organizations with great goals. I’ve applied to several (all in DC except one in San Fran). The funny thing about the job descriptions is that it’s obvious to me when a traditional brand marketer has written them. Marketing jargon is almost like a separate but familiar language. Not good, not bad, just different. A colleague showed me a great website – http://www.idealist.org -- that compiles jobs in an easy to read database.
Option 3 would be another company, but one whose interests better match my own. Something outdoorsy, or organic/natural, or adventure travel, or cycling-related. I’ve send resumes for open positions at a few familiar companies all around the country… Enough about the job stuff. I get 6 months to figure this out, and you’ll hear more of it later.
What I really wanted to tell you is that I have been asked to serve a 5-month term on my condo association’s board. Yes, the same old-old-men-with-nothing-else-better-to-do board. They invited me back to last week’s meeting, and my nomination/election was Miscellaneous Agenda Item No. 17. Same delightful cast of characters: turtle-necked lisper as President; t-shirt wearing crumb-eater; meticulous board Secretary; and paper-shuffling Man #4. Unfortunately, Mr. Blueberry was not part of the meeting.
I missed the first half-hour. The boys did save me one salami sandwich with extra salami. Fortunately, instead of ordering from Jose’s House of Onions, this meal came from Steve’s Salami Shack, and I could swear that the bowl of pickles and potato salad were resting on glistening slices of salami.
At the last meeting, we discussed proposals for a security camera system in the building. Although it wasn’t completely clear to me that there was a security problem, I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask about (nor did I really care about) the system. What I discovered at this second meeting is that these bored, bored men really wanted to spy on who was coming and going into the building. As far as I can tell, there is nothing sick or deranged about them (no cameras in bathrooms or under Welcome mats), but it turns out that all of them have been coming into the board’s room to watch footage, particularly what happens late at night.
During the meeting, the lisping President sat in front of the computer with a hand-written list of dates/times that he wanted us to review. The old men came in closer to watch other old people come in and out of the building. Some carried bags of groceries, some had backpacks or briefcases, and some had nothing at all. All were very very ordinary. Painfully so. Nevertheless, even the crumb-eater, this time in a 1980’s era Denver Broncos ACF West Champion shirt, hobbled in close to check out absolutely nothing.
At one point, Man #4 commented that he had witnessed a stranger passing a plain manila envelope from outside the building to apartment 1H, at approximately 2:05 in the morning. The camera would also show the same person coming into the building 15 minutes later. Adjusting his turtleneck, President located the footage, and we watched a man walk into the building. That’s it. He did not produce a sign and show it to the camera that read: “I am doing something suspicious.” After reaching for another piece of salami, I innocently asked if we were violating any privacy laws. I might as well have asked if these guys thought the retirement age should be raised to 80. Mr. Meticulous then produced a key to the board’s room and handed it to me. I quickly put it away, vowing to never ever use it.
The last item on the agenda was the building’s holiday party. After a ten-minute debate on who was storing last year’s expensive menorah, it was decided the board would host a potluck in the lobby (as has been done since 1978) in mid-December. There was a motion to request that Mr. Blueberry bring his famous “punch” which got a rousing SECOND from around the table. The group couldn’t decide on an appropriate Kwanzaa decoration for the lobby, and the board tasked Mr. Meticulous to make a recommendation at the next meeting. If I haven’t slit my wrists by then, someone shoot me. Just don’t do it in front of one of the security cameras….
Happy Thanksgiving! NATHAN
As of January 1, Marie Antoinette and I finally will have something in common. I have kept this a secret from most of you, but I’ve been aspiring to be more like her for years. I didn’t expect it to come as a result of a myopic corporate decision, but at the youthful age of 37, the head of the former Queen of France was severed from her royal body – just as I will be “severed” from my current employer at age 35. It has been a good run (5 years), and my severance package is far better than the Queen’s, but I leave behind many good friends, a free gym, Frank the cheap barber, and a nice company store discount.
So what’s next, you may ask. There are several paths I can take. The easiest but least desirable would be to go to an equivalent big consumer packaged goods company. There are lots of marketing jobs around, and I could probably swing a promotion out of it, too. But I’d probably be faced with the same challenges, albeit with diapers or cranberry juice or candy bars, rather than cereal or kids drinks.
Another option would be back to the nonprofit sector. Again, there seem to be quite a few positions out there – most at the VP level – but at this early stage, it’s hard to tell if these would be great jobs at great organizations, or crappy jobs at great organizations with great goals. I’ve applied to several (all in DC except one in San Fran). The funny thing about the job descriptions is that it’s obvious to me when a traditional brand marketer has written them. Marketing jargon is almost like a separate but familiar language. Not good, not bad, just different. A colleague showed me a great website – http://www.idealist.org -- that compiles jobs in an easy to read database.
Option 3 would be another company, but one whose interests better match my own. Something outdoorsy, or organic/natural, or adventure travel, or cycling-related. I’ve send resumes for open positions at a few familiar companies all around the country… Enough about the job stuff. I get 6 months to figure this out, and you’ll hear more of it later.
What I really wanted to tell you is that I have been asked to serve a 5-month term on my condo association’s board. Yes, the same old-old-men-with-nothing-else-better-to-do board. They invited me back to last week’s meeting, and my nomination/election was Miscellaneous Agenda Item No. 17. Same delightful cast of characters: turtle-necked lisper as President; t-shirt wearing crumb-eater; meticulous board Secretary; and paper-shuffling Man #4. Unfortunately, Mr. Blueberry was not part of the meeting.
I missed the first half-hour. The boys did save me one salami sandwich with extra salami. Fortunately, instead of ordering from Jose’s House of Onions, this meal came from Steve’s Salami Shack, and I could swear that the bowl of pickles and potato salad were resting on glistening slices of salami.
At the last meeting, we discussed proposals for a security camera system in the building. Although it wasn’t completely clear to me that there was a security problem, I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask about (nor did I really care about) the system. What I discovered at this second meeting is that these bored, bored men really wanted to spy on who was coming and going into the building. As far as I can tell, there is nothing sick or deranged about them (no cameras in bathrooms or under Welcome mats), but it turns out that all of them have been coming into the board’s room to watch footage, particularly what happens late at night.
During the meeting, the lisping President sat in front of the computer with a hand-written list of dates/times that he wanted us to review. The old men came in closer to watch other old people come in and out of the building. Some carried bags of groceries, some had backpacks or briefcases, and some had nothing at all. All were very very ordinary. Painfully so. Nevertheless, even the crumb-eater, this time in a 1980’s era Denver Broncos ACF West Champion shirt, hobbled in close to check out absolutely nothing.
At one point, Man #4 commented that he had witnessed a stranger passing a plain manila envelope from outside the building to apartment 1H, at approximately 2:05 in the morning. The camera would also show the same person coming into the building 15 minutes later. Adjusting his turtleneck, President located the footage, and we watched a man walk into the building. That’s it. He did not produce a sign and show it to the camera that read: “I am doing something suspicious.” After reaching for another piece of salami, I innocently asked if we were violating any privacy laws. I might as well have asked if these guys thought the retirement age should be raised to 80. Mr. Meticulous then produced a key to the board’s room and handed it to me. I quickly put it away, vowing to never ever use it.
The last item on the agenda was the building’s holiday party. After a ten-minute debate on who was storing last year’s expensive menorah, it was decided the board would host a potluck in the lobby (as has been done since 1978) in mid-December. There was a motion to request that Mr. Blueberry bring his famous “punch” which got a rousing SECOND from around the table. The group couldn’t decide on an appropriate Kwanzaa decoration for the lobby, and the board tasked Mr. Meticulous to make a recommendation at the next meeting. If I haven’t slit my wrists by then, someone shoot me. Just don’t do it in front of one of the security cameras….
Happy Thanksgiving! NATHAN
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Forty-sixth posting - Dr?
One of the most difficult aspects of being a writer must be the constant threat of writer’s block. (If it is this easy to not write something, I should probably take “writer” off of my future vocation list.) It’s not that I haven’t had a million and a half subjects flying through my head over the past week or so… I think that my situation at work has taken a toll on a greater proportion of my thinking than just the time I’m at the office.
Anyhoo, today I had a dentist appointment. Some background first: Dr. C. and his wife, also Dr. C., started a practice together ten years ago. Keep it in the family, they thought. Both were straight up dentists – nothing fancy like cosmetic surgery or teeth whitening back then. Four or so years ago, the receptionist at C & C Dentistry got a little friendly with Dr. C., the husband, probably at a “conference.” This friendliness became more intimate, and the Drs. C. parted ways, leaving Dr. C, the husband, with the practice, which became C. Dental, and leaving the receptionist with a huge rock on her finger and a twinkle in her boss’s eye. Now Dr. C can make your teeth whiter and your gums bigger, and find a little action on the side for himself, too…
This morning I was a few minutes early to my 8:50 appointment. In the dental world, it’s bad luck to have appointments start on the hour or on the half-hour. Just kidding. I said hello to a different receptionist, who said, “Have a seat, Nathan.” I then read the paper and some of the Economist before realizing I’d been there an hour already. I was sitting ten feet from the front desk, but the place was busy, so I figured they were running late. Ten minutes later a troll of a woman comes in with her Goth daughter, sits down next to me with a harrumph, spots the TV’s remote control on the table and turns on the TV to Montell Williams. My annoyance level quickly escalated when I heard the subject of the show was something like Women Who Can’t Leave Bad Relationships. After less than a minute of the mother and daughter chattering, “I can’t believe she’d stay with that asshole,” and “He’ll get what he deserves…this show don’t leave you hangin’”, I walked to to the front desk and told them I’d been there for almost an hour and a half, and that I wanted to reschedule my appointment.
Immediately I got apologies coming from everywhere, and I didn’t yell (I don’t know if I’m capable of yelling, to be honest), and one receptionist blamed the other. I wanted to ask which one was sleeping with Dr. C. now, but I didn’t. So I’m going back next week for another tortuous morning. Next time, I hope someone actually looks at my teeth before I leave…
NATHAN
Anyhoo, today I had a dentist appointment. Some background first: Dr. C. and his wife, also Dr. C., started a practice together ten years ago. Keep it in the family, they thought. Both were straight up dentists – nothing fancy like cosmetic surgery or teeth whitening back then. Four or so years ago, the receptionist at C & C Dentistry got a little friendly with Dr. C., the husband, probably at a “conference.” This friendliness became more intimate, and the Drs. C. parted ways, leaving Dr. C, the husband, with the practice, which became C. Dental, and leaving the receptionist with a huge rock on her finger and a twinkle in her boss’s eye. Now Dr. C can make your teeth whiter and your gums bigger, and find a little action on the side for himself, too…
This morning I was a few minutes early to my 8:50 appointment. In the dental world, it’s bad luck to have appointments start on the hour or on the half-hour. Just kidding. I said hello to a different receptionist, who said, “Have a seat, Nathan.” I then read the paper and some of the Economist before realizing I’d been there an hour already. I was sitting ten feet from the front desk, but the place was busy, so I figured they were running late. Ten minutes later a troll of a woman comes in with her Goth daughter, sits down next to me with a harrumph, spots the TV’s remote control on the table and turns on the TV to Montell Williams. My annoyance level quickly escalated when I heard the subject of the show was something like Women Who Can’t Leave Bad Relationships. After less than a minute of the mother and daughter chattering, “I can’t believe she’d stay with that asshole,” and “He’ll get what he deserves…this show don’t leave you hangin’”, I walked to to the front desk and told them I’d been there for almost an hour and a half, and that I wanted to reschedule my appointment.
Immediately I got apologies coming from everywhere, and I didn’t yell (I don’t know if I’m capable of yelling, to be honest), and one receptionist blamed the other. I wanted to ask which one was sleeping with Dr. C. now, but I didn’t. So I’m going back next week for another tortuous morning. Next time, I hope someone actually looks at my teeth before I leave…
NATHAN
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Forty-fifth posting - vocation
In the coming weeks, there is a possibility I will be laid off (“severed” in corporate lingo, like Marie Antoinette’s head, or a chicken bone). Fortunately I have made it to the level I intended to reach when I started. Unfortunately I have made a lot of friends along the way and will be sad to no longer work with them or see them as frequently (or make fun of other people with funny names who work at the company).
Recruiters are making the rounds with opportunities around the country. None have had really super-cool jobs I’d prefer to think about, so I’ve decided to create my own list. There may be some tweaking required, but I am open to suggestions.
NATHAN
Recruiters are making the rounds with opportunities around the country. None have had really super-cool jobs I’d prefer to think about, so I’ve decided to create my own list. There may be some tweaking required, but I am open to suggestions.
- Adventure travel company tour tester. I am always on the lookout for recommendations for interesting destinations – even if I don’t intend on traveling right away. Sure, there are hundreds of guidebooks out there, and many of them are written by people like me who think they have some discretionary income and a few weeks of vacation. I’d like to be one of those people paid by a travel magazine to take those trips and evaluate the food, the guides, the itinerary, and then give my own personal rating – one “N” for crappy, up to 5 “N”s for amazing.
- Small business owner. There are some caveats here. I’d like to take over someone’s already modestly successful business and make it more successful. Not monstrously so, but just enough to justify some hard work and several years on my part. It could be a cheese and wine shop in a renovated barn in Vermont (my friend R’s idea), or a shipping/distribution company that brings organic produce to schools for lunch programs, or an apple orchard, or publishing company that looks for young authors using a business model that makes money with small production runs…
- Writer. My sister planted this seed in my head. I might go nuts trying to be a real writer, but if there is a way to fake it and still earn a decent living (“decent” is the operative word here), that would be good, too.
- Lobbyist. There is a lot of crap going on in Washington, and I feel guilty sometimes for not really doing anything about it. I live in a Blue state now, and the last 4 places I’ve lived have also been Blue (NY, DC, MD, MN). Prior to that my state was deep, dark crimson Red (OK), but my family was somewhat of an anomaly. The Endangered Species Act is itself endangered, and my own personal dependence on oil are two areas that I could find an easy passion for trying to be a “person of influence.”
- Member of Lance Armstrong entourage. (Presumably there is one. If not, I’ll start one.) When he’s not hanging with Sheryl, I’d be happy to do a little riding with Lance. And when she’s not hanging with Lance, I’d be happy to listen to her play me a tune or two…
NATHAN
Friday, October 21, 2005
Forty-fourth posting - board
Lots going on, friends. My company is going through big changes and creating an environment of nervousness and anxiety in a place I once thought of as (almost) fun. Because it’s where I spend most of my time, it’s hard these days to be the optimistic, up-beat guy I usually am…
I will share with you, though, something I did outside of work that was as funny as it was painful – my first condominium board meeting. Picture, if you will, a small basement room in 5-story brick apartment building. For those of you familiar with church basements and Sunday school rooms, this one was quite similar.
It’s 6 o’clock at night. Several old white men are in the room. Old like 70s and 80s. All are sitting on metal folding chairs around a particleboard table. Near the door is a small spread of what seems to be onion sandwiches, with extra onions on the side. There are detailed minutes from the prior board meeting on the table – with a nice green cover sheet created by one of the members who obviously cares about this kind of thing.
One man is running the show. He’s got a slight lisp and he is fairly soft-spoken. Black turtleneck, skinny, probably the youngest (60) of the bunch. Glasses down on his nose, and he looks over the tops of them to see. Likes to use the phrase, “Don’t go there…” and each time, I’m just waiting for a “…girlfriend!” to complete the statement.
Another man, not at the table but close to the cinderblock wall, is nodding off. He may be the oldest and the least interested in being there (for the first few minutes…until I accept that role). The condition of his bright orange t-shirt suggests a keen interest in crumbly food. It is difficult to read the words on the t-shirt, but it seems to mention something like, “Homey don’t know that.” I would be surprised if this man knew who Homey is or what Homey was supposed to know.
Third man – board secretary – is at the opposite end of the table. Meticulous fellow and a fan of cover sheets for meeting minutes. Has been a resident since 1958, when building was erected. Presents a log at every meeting that details his activities in support of building upkeep. Doesn’t talk much, but does make good comments and suggestions. Seems like the kid in school who runs for but doesn’t win election for Class President…but does the work anyway.
Man number 4 is second oldest and has a nervous habit of leafing through papers for something, underlining it, and then putting the papers back together in a single pile. Over and over and over… When a salesman from a security camera company comes in to talk to us about a proposal, Man number 4 demonstrates his awareness of the technology by asking about camera types, hard drive requirements, system capabilities. All good questions, if they weren’t already on the proposal in front of him….
Fifth man sits next to me, says two words the entire meeting but issues a series of grunts in agreement or disagreement based on the topic. I am unable to distinguish between the two, however, and hope others are better translators.
The evening’s highlight is halfway down the agenda – “L1 A/C Grievance.” Evidently, Steven, the owner of unit L1, legally runs a massage therapy business out of this unit but has a problem with temperature in the massage room. Not yet at the meeting, Steven is described as boisterous and long-winded, and it is recommended that this topic be held to a few minutes. I step out of the room to make a phone call, and when I return, a very large, multiple-chinned giant of a man is sitting in the chair next to mine. He has matching bright blue sweatpants and sweatshirt on – it is difficult not to think of an overstuffed blueberry – particularly with a slightly off-kilter toupee riding high on his head. To be honest, it is painfully difficult not to picture a meaty sweating Steven in this steamy massage room, so I try to pay less attention to him and his complaint and more to the neat stacks of meeting minutes on the table.
Lisping man number One is not helping by nodding and letting Steven babble on and on, unchecked by any of us. Man number 4 seems to wake up, probably because Steven’s booming voice is starting to shake his chair, and Fifth man’s grunting gets louder and louder. At this point, I have lost track of the discussion and the original grievance, but I feel like shouting, “Fix his damn air conditioner and get him the hell out of here!” The old men must have read my mind because a motion was moved and passed to do just that, Third man incorporated this into the official meeting minutes, and I ran out of there as fast as I could.
I suppose now I see why they’re called Board meetings – if it was spelled correctly, no one would show up.
Have a great weekend, NATHAN
I will share with you, though, something I did outside of work that was as funny as it was painful – my first condominium board meeting. Picture, if you will, a small basement room in 5-story brick apartment building. For those of you familiar with church basements and Sunday school rooms, this one was quite similar.
It’s 6 o’clock at night. Several old white men are in the room. Old like 70s and 80s. All are sitting on metal folding chairs around a particleboard table. Near the door is a small spread of what seems to be onion sandwiches, with extra onions on the side. There are detailed minutes from the prior board meeting on the table – with a nice green cover sheet created by one of the members who obviously cares about this kind of thing.
One man is running the show. He’s got a slight lisp and he is fairly soft-spoken. Black turtleneck, skinny, probably the youngest (60) of the bunch. Glasses down on his nose, and he looks over the tops of them to see. Likes to use the phrase, “Don’t go there…” and each time, I’m just waiting for a “…girlfriend!” to complete the statement.
Another man, not at the table but close to the cinderblock wall, is nodding off. He may be the oldest and the least interested in being there (for the first few minutes…until I accept that role). The condition of his bright orange t-shirt suggests a keen interest in crumbly food. It is difficult to read the words on the t-shirt, but it seems to mention something like, “Homey don’t know that.” I would be surprised if this man knew who Homey is or what Homey was supposed to know.
Third man – board secretary – is at the opposite end of the table. Meticulous fellow and a fan of cover sheets for meeting minutes. Has been a resident since 1958, when building was erected. Presents a log at every meeting that details his activities in support of building upkeep. Doesn’t talk much, but does make good comments and suggestions. Seems like the kid in school who runs for but doesn’t win election for Class President…but does the work anyway.
Man number 4 is second oldest and has a nervous habit of leafing through papers for something, underlining it, and then putting the papers back together in a single pile. Over and over and over… When a salesman from a security camera company comes in to talk to us about a proposal, Man number 4 demonstrates his awareness of the technology by asking about camera types, hard drive requirements, system capabilities. All good questions, if they weren’t already on the proposal in front of him….
Fifth man sits next to me, says two words the entire meeting but issues a series of grunts in agreement or disagreement based on the topic. I am unable to distinguish between the two, however, and hope others are better translators.
The evening’s highlight is halfway down the agenda – “L1 A/C Grievance.” Evidently, Steven, the owner of unit L1, legally runs a massage therapy business out of this unit but has a problem with temperature in the massage room. Not yet at the meeting, Steven is described as boisterous and long-winded, and it is recommended that this topic be held to a few minutes. I step out of the room to make a phone call, and when I return, a very large, multiple-chinned giant of a man is sitting in the chair next to mine. He has matching bright blue sweatpants and sweatshirt on – it is difficult not to think of an overstuffed blueberry – particularly with a slightly off-kilter toupee riding high on his head. To be honest, it is painfully difficult not to picture a meaty sweating Steven in this steamy massage room, so I try to pay less attention to him and his complaint and more to the neat stacks of meeting minutes on the table.
Lisping man number One is not helping by nodding and letting Steven babble on and on, unchecked by any of us. Man number 4 seems to wake up, probably because Steven’s booming voice is starting to shake his chair, and Fifth man’s grunting gets louder and louder. At this point, I have lost track of the discussion and the original grievance, but I feel like shouting, “Fix his damn air conditioner and get him the hell out of here!” The old men must have read my mind because a motion was moved and passed to do just that, Third man incorporated this into the official meeting minutes, and I ran out of there as fast as I could.
I suppose now I see why they’re called Board meetings – if it was spelled correctly, no one would show up.
Have a great weekend, NATHAN
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Forty-third posting - Dan
I would like to introduce you to my new friend Daniel. He’s not a friend in the traditional sense – he doesn’t talk, he can’t ride a bike, he doesn’t laugh at my (usually bad) jokes and (self-proclaimed) wit. Daniel is a restaurant in New York and a near-perfect stage for famed chef, Daniel Boulud.
I was very lucky to have been invited by a friend to a closing dinner for a law firm and client (evidently this client made a lot of money through this transaction). Daniel is sumptuous, with a golden glow that permeated everything. Deep red velvet and beautiful classical architecture fit perfectly with the haute French cuisine.
The evening started with champagne in glasses that never emptied. French-accented servers walked around with unbelievably delicious morsels. Each was no bigger than my thumb and included: Parmesan baskets with goat cheese and herbs, tuna tartar in a Japanese cucumber cup, tartlet of lobster with avocado purée and citrus, gougères (like savory crème puffs) with Comté and Parmesan, chicken Satay with peanut sauce, and mini crab cake with saffron aioli. This wasn’t unlike an over-the-top wedding reception, albeit with 2 chefs marrying each other.
After an hour of this, we sat down at four tables of ten or so people. With a simultaneous flourish, our first course was served: pumpkin and goat cheese ravioli. While there were only a few on the plate, every bite exploded with flavor, perfect for the cool and rainy night.
Our next course was striped bass with what I thought was a red pepper sauce. At this point, the champagne and accompanying wine were taking their effects. I recall the fish being superb and melt-in-your mouth perfect, however, unlike anything I’d had before.
The main course was a “Duo of Beef” -- braised short ribs in red wine, and seared black Angus tenderloin with root vegetables. So tender. So good. Daniel at his absolute best.
I recall the dessert being primarily chocolate, likely a sort of soufflé, but by now, I was overloaded by the previous courses’ extraordinary tastes and flavors (and the wine). We left almost five hours after we arrived, celebrating both the closing of the legal transaction as well as our introduction to a new friend.
Daniel’s not the kind of person you need to see every day, but someone you’d definitely want to keep in the back of your mind. He doesn’t mind if you stop by only on special occasions – but if you do, your visit won’t soon be forgotten. NATHAN
http://danielnyc.com/daniel/
I was very lucky to have been invited by a friend to a closing dinner for a law firm and client (evidently this client made a lot of money through this transaction). Daniel is sumptuous, with a golden glow that permeated everything. Deep red velvet and beautiful classical architecture fit perfectly with the haute French cuisine.
The evening started with champagne in glasses that never emptied. French-accented servers walked around with unbelievably delicious morsels. Each was no bigger than my thumb and included: Parmesan baskets with goat cheese and herbs, tuna tartar in a Japanese cucumber cup, tartlet of lobster with avocado purée and citrus, gougères (like savory crème puffs) with Comté and Parmesan, chicken Satay with peanut sauce, and mini crab cake with saffron aioli. This wasn’t unlike an over-the-top wedding reception, albeit with 2 chefs marrying each other.
After an hour of this, we sat down at four tables of ten or so people. With a simultaneous flourish, our first course was served: pumpkin and goat cheese ravioli. While there were only a few on the plate, every bite exploded with flavor, perfect for the cool and rainy night.
Our next course was striped bass with what I thought was a red pepper sauce. At this point, the champagne and accompanying wine were taking their effects. I recall the fish being superb and melt-in-your mouth perfect, however, unlike anything I’d had before.
The main course was a “Duo of Beef” -- braised short ribs in red wine, and seared black Angus tenderloin with root vegetables. So tender. So good. Daniel at his absolute best.
I recall the dessert being primarily chocolate, likely a sort of soufflé, but by now, I was overloaded by the previous courses’ extraordinary tastes and flavors (and the wine). We left almost five hours after we arrived, celebrating both the closing of the legal transaction as well as our introduction to a new friend.
Daniel’s not the kind of person you need to see every day, but someone you’d definitely want to keep in the back of your mind. He doesn’t mind if you stop by only on special occasions – but if you do, your visit won’t soon be forgotten. NATHAN
http://danielnyc.com/daniel/
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Forty-second posting - Ginny
This weekend I traveled home to visit my parents, a trip that includes at least 4 flights. Next to me on one of those legs was a woman with a story.
Early 20s, red hair and freckles. Thick Texas accent. Married. Had with her a small purse and cell phone. She fiddled with the cell phone a hundred times. Fiddling included opening the phone, wiping off the fingerprints on her screen, scrolling through something-or-other, closing the phone, repeating 99 times -- clearly waiting for a precise time to call someone. That "someone" she called a few minutes before takeoff. The conversation went as follows:
Hi babe. Yeah I'm on the plane.
No, some guy.
Quiet. Reading.
How was rehearsal?
Awesome. Whadyallplay?
I knew it'd be better with more singers. I told you it'd be better. Told you you'd sound awesome. Didn't I say that?
That's awesome. How longdyallplay?
No way. Awesome, babe. That's like when you sang Gonna Take and Run With Him. Member? And ya'll sang like twenty times and that woman told me to hush cuz I was singin so loud in the back that y'all heard me.
Dyallsing Let The Spirit Lift Me Up High High High?
(She sings a few twangy lines into the phone.)
Whaddabout Come On Show Me The Way Home Right Now?
(More singing.)
Awesome. I love that. I do.
(She sings again and gets choked up.)
How was Ginny?
(At this point there was a clear change in her voice.)
No.Yeah.
(pause)
Yeah.
Uh-huh.
(pause)
Yeah.
(pause)
Backup?
Oh.
(pause)
Gotta go. They're sayin something. Yeah, she'll be at the airport.
Ok. Love ya. Bye.
(click)
At the end, I wish I hadn't heard about Ginny. I had already put my neighbor neatly into her little stereotyped compartment. Her story made that compartment less clear - and a more real. I feel like I should leave you with some sort of lesson here. But in lieu of one, though... have a good week. NATHAN
Early 20s, red hair and freckles. Thick Texas accent. Married. Had with her a small purse and cell phone. She fiddled with the cell phone a hundred times. Fiddling included opening the phone, wiping off the fingerprints on her screen, scrolling through something-or-other, closing the phone, repeating 99 times -- clearly waiting for a precise time to call someone. That "someone" she called a few minutes before takeoff. The conversation went as follows:
Hi babe. Yeah I'm on the plane.
No, some guy.
Quiet. Reading.
How was rehearsal?
Awesome. Whadyallplay?
I knew it'd be better with more singers. I told you it'd be better. Told you you'd sound awesome. Didn't I say that?
That's awesome. How longdyallplay?
No way. Awesome, babe. That's like when you sang Gonna Take and Run With Him. Member? And ya'll sang like twenty times and that woman told me to hush cuz I was singin so loud in the back that y'all heard me.
Dyallsing Let The Spirit Lift Me Up High High High?
(She sings a few twangy lines into the phone.)
Whaddabout Come On Show Me The Way Home Right Now?
(More singing.)
Awesome. I love that. I do.
(She sings again and gets choked up.)
How was Ginny?
(At this point there was a clear change in her voice.)
No.Yeah.
(pause)
Yeah.
Uh-huh.
(pause)
Yeah.
(pause)
Backup?
Oh.
(pause)
Gotta go. They're sayin something. Yeah, she'll be at the airport.
Ok. Love ya. Bye.
(click)
At the end, I wish I hadn't heard about Ginny. I had already put my neighbor neatly into her little stereotyped compartment. Her story made that compartment less clear - and a more real. I feel like I should leave you with some sort of lesson here. But in lieu of one, though... have a good week. NATHAN
Friday, September 30, 2005
Forty-first posting - error
First, let me clear something up. MY FAVORITE MOVIE is Romancing The Stone. I neglected to include this on my Top 10 list of movies because of its unique status and because I'd rhetorically asked myself: "Isn't it everyone's favorite movie?" Evidently not.
Second, today I'm leaving for a weekend with my parents. I made the reservation early in the summer and hadn't looked at it since then. Yesterday I started looking at prices for a cab from the office to the Westchester airport, and then home from the airport. Costs were higher than parking, but it's always nice to have someone else drive. By the end of the day, I'd printed out my boarding passes, and concluded that I would drive.
Last night, Dad called and asked when I was arriving. I told him I didn't remember exactly, but it was the afternoon flight from Chicago. Maybe 5:30? He asked about traffic to La Guardia on Fridays, and I said it was Westchester. Then I checked my calendar...
I don't know how many of you are familiar with the Mercedes TV ad in the NY/NJ/CT area, in which a woman and man are speeding in a car from Manhattan to JFK airport because the man is late for a flight. They whip into the airport, he jumps out of the car and looks at his ticket. He stops abruptly, turns around and runs back to the car -- yelling at the woman, "La Guardia...LA GUARDIA!"
Every once in a while it's a good idea to think about what you're doing....
Have a good weekend. Go Sooners! NATHAN
Second, today I'm leaving for a weekend with my parents. I made the reservation early in the summer and hadn't looked at it since then. Yesterday I started looking at prices for a cab from the office to the Westchester airport, and then home from the airport. Costs were higher than parking, but it's always nice to have someone else drive. By the end of the day, I'd printed out my boarding passes, and concluded that I would drive.
Last night, Dad called and asked when I was arriving. I told him I didn't remember exactly, but it was the afternoon flight from Chicago. Maybe 5:30? He asked about traffic to La Guardia on Fridays, and I said it was Westchester. Then I checked my calendar...
I don't know how many of you are familiar with the Mercedes TV ad in the NY/NJ/CT area, in which a woman and man are speeding in a car from Manhattan to JFK airport because the man is late for a flight. They whip into the airport, he jumps out of the car and looks at his ticket. He stops abruptly, turns around and runs back to the car -- yelling at the woman, "La Guardia...LA GUARDIA!"
Every once in a while it's a good idea to think about what you're doing....
Have a good weekend. Go Sooners! NATHAN
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Fortieth posting - ten
Hi there.
So I thought I'd share with you a couple of my Top 10 lists. You'll find that sometimes more and sometimes fewer than 10 entries inhabit my Top 10 lists, but that's just how it is. Also, some entries may come and go at whim (my whim), so the Top 10 lists could be entirely different a year from now. Here goes.
Top 10 Movies
12 Angry Men (1957)
Best in Show
Blazing Saddles
Caddyshack
James Bond (all)
Lord of the Rings (all)
Monty Python's Meaning of Life
Moulin Rouge
Ocean's Eleven
Office Space
Princess Bride
Pulp Fiction
Rear Window
Reservoir Dogs
Top 10 Cuisines
Tex-Mex
Mexican (there is a difference)
Indian
Italian (Mom's lasagna, in particular)
Ethiopian
Greek
Lebanese (there really isn't a difference)
Top 10 names people should start considering for their children
Newton
Franz
Fritz
Oscar
Top 10 tasks I would give my Life Intern right now if I had a Life Intern
Pick up and install my blinds
Squeeze fresh lime into beer right as I'm walking in the door
Figure out 5, 7 and 10 mile running routes that leave from my building
Do my laundry and figure out how to add fabric softener at exactly the right time (how old am I, and I still can't do this?)
Wash and wax my car
Figure out how I can hang paintings in my place on a wall that seems to be rock solid cement
Reinstall the vent above the stove so the food being prepared by the family that lives below me doesn't waft into my condo and make me gag (
Who knew that this would be the easiest list of the 4 to write...)
That's it for now. May add more later. NATHAN
So I thought I'd share with you a couple of my Top 10 lists. You'll find that sometimes more and sometimes fewer than 10 entries inhabit my Top 10 lists, but that's just how it is. Also, some entries may come and go at whim (my whim), so the Top 10 lists could be entirely different a year from now. Here goes.
Top 10 Movies
12 Angry Men (1957)
Best in Show
Blazing Saddles
Caddyshack
James Bond (all)
Lord of the Rings (all)
Monty Python's Meaning of Life
Moulin Rouge
Ocean's Eleven
Office Space
Princess Bride
Pulp Fiction
Rear Window
Reservoir Dogs
Top 10 Cuisines
Tex-Mex
Mexican (there is a difference)
Indian
Italian (Mom's lasagna, in particular)
Ethiopian
Greek
Lebanese (there really isn't a difference)
Top 10 names people should start considering for their children
Newton
Franz
Fritz
Oscar
Top 10 tasks I would give my Life Intern right now if I had a Life Intern
Pick up and install my blinds
Squeeze fresh lime into beer right as I'm walking in the door
Figure out 5, 7 and 10 mile running routes that leave from my building
Do my laundry and figure out how to add fabric softener at exactly the right time (how old am I, and I still can't do this?)
Wash and wax my car
Figure out how I can hang paintings in my place on a wall that seems to be rock solid cement
Reinstall the vent above the stove so the food being prepared by the family that lives below me doesn't waft into my condo and make me gag (
Who knew that this would be the easiest list of the 4 to write...)
That's it for now. May add more later. NATHAN
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Thirty-ninth posting - tooth
A quick word to the wise: next time you go to the dentist to get your teeth cleaned and checked, watch out for Olga The Ukrainian Devil-Hygenist. She does exist, and she works for my dentist. I'd never seen her in the 5 yrs I been to this dentist, and at first, she was friendly enough. We chit-chatted about Eastern Europe...I pretended to know more about Dostoyevsky and Bulgakov than I do...I shared a (false) appreciation for the good old Communist days when life was easy and organized...we talked about good beet salad and strong vodka.
THEN Olga turned mean. She took out a wee drill and proceded to scrape both my teeth and the inside of ever single one of my gums (or is there just one gum?). This did not feel good.
Then she shifted the water/suction tool so it kept sucking my tongue. Under some circumstances, perhaps that would be ok, but not in a dentist chair with a sharp sharp tool poised to impale me.
Next, Olga The Ukrainian Devil-Hygenist shoved a cup in my hand and barked, "Now rinse!" although what was implied was "...you dirty American who never flosses bastard!" I rinsed, and she ripped a few feet of floss out of her (weapons) drawer.
Floss in hand, Olga yanked what felt like thick rope between my teeth. If they could talk, my teeth and gums would have said "Stop, you crazy woman!" They didn't and neither could I.
After it was all over, I stumbled out of the dentist's office - only to find a nice 8 1/2 x 11 flourescent orange sticker on my window that said "PARKING VIOLATION: A TOWING COMPANY HAS BEEN CALLED". I slowly pulled off the sticker and high-tailed it out of there.
Bad start to day - but going to restaurant tonight in NYC with great repution (Public) so hopefully will end well.
Enjoy your weekends! NATHAN
THEN Olga turned mean. She took out a wee drill and proceded to scrape both my teeth and the inside of ever single one of my gums (or is there just one gum?). This did not feel good.
Then she shifted the water/suction tool so it kept sucking my tongue. Under some circumstances, perhaps that would be ok, but not in a dentist chair with a sharp sharp tool poised to impale me.
Next, Olga The Ukrainian Devil-Hygenist shoved a cup in my hand and barked, "Now rinse!" although what was implied was "...you dirty American who never flosses bastard!" I rinsed, and she ripped a few feet of floss out of her (weapons) drawer.
Floss in hand, Olga yanked what felt like thick rope between my teeth. If they could talk, my teeth and gums would have said "Stop, you crazy woman!" They didn't and neither could I.
After it was all over, I stumbled out of the dentist's office - only to find a nice 8 1/2 x 11 flourescent orange sticker on my window that said "PARKING VIOLATION: A TOWING COMPANY HAS BEEN CALLED". I slowly pulled off the sticker and high-tailed it out of there.
Bad start to day - but going to restaurant tonight in NYC with great repution (Public) so hopefully will end well.
Enjoy your weekends! NATHAN
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Thirty-eighth posting - school
This is a photo of Antsla Secondary School, in Antsla, Estonia, where I taught English from 1993-95. I was feeling nostalgic, so I thought I'd share... Birches lined the school's perimeter, and the ground was covered in snow from November to May. NATHAN
Monday, September 19, 2005
Thirty-seventh posting - Central Park
Another biathlon in Central Park this weekend, and I did better than I had hoped. My time for the race (2 mi run + 12 mi bike + 2 mi run) was 1:09:34 (45th, top 16%) -- a decent improvement over my prior times of 1:15:54 (81st, top 24%) and 1:14:28 (127th, top 36%). I also bettered my placement among men (top 23%, from 44% and 32%) and my suprisingly more competitive age bracket (top 30%, vs 44% and 46%). There were still 2 women who finished ahead of me - both of whom looked pretty darn fit and had tri bars on their bikes. No big lessons learned from this, although I still have plenty of room to improve on my second run (I had the 39th best 1st run time, and the 65th best 2nd run!). I like the post-game analysis part of this -- makes me feel like I know more than I do...! I could do another in 3 weeks, but I don't really have time to train, so I don't know...
The night before the race I went to a very cool formal dinner/dance on Ellis Island. Felt like a beautiful wedding (at which I knew 1 person) although the wandering costumed "immigrants" chatting amongst themselves was somewhat creepy. I wasn't drinking, but I found myself thinking: "Oh, there's an immigrant looking for his country on the 3D map of the world." and "Look, the immigrants are searching for their relatives on the computer database." and "Huh, I wonder if that immigrant is supposed to be shoving a bottle of champagne in her basket, or is that part of the act?" Lots of lawyers around but fewer social skills than I would have expected. Some nice people, though.
Have a great week, and keep an eye out for booze-nabbing immigrant-actors ... NATHAN
The night before the race I went to a very cool formal dinner/dance on Ellis Island. Felt like a beautiful wedding (at which I knew 1 person) although the wandering costumed "immigrants" chatting amongst themselves was somewhat creepy. I wasn't drinking, but I found myself thinking: "Oh, there's an immigrant looking for his country on the 3D map of the world." and "Look, the immigrants are searching for their relatives on the computer database." and "Huh, I wonder if that immigrant is supposed to be shoving a bottle of champagne in her basket, or is that part of the act?" Lots of lawyers around but fewer social skills than I would have expected. Some nice people, though.
Have a great week, and keep an eye out for booze-nabbing immigrant-actors ... NATHAN
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Thirty-sixth posting - smell
A couple of thoughts for you, kids. As I drove home from the office yesterday, windows open, I noticed a smell that was vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place it immediately but then the smell conjured up a nice memory of being at my neighborhood pool when I was 7 or 8, and waiting in line for a snow-cone or candy bar or soda… It was a sicky-sweet smell but not nauseating. I have no idea what on Interstate 287 could have been the source, but I certainly wasn’t interested enough to stop and investigate.
This morning the “smell” theme continued when the lovely folks who live on the floor below decided to awaken me with the delicious aroma of burning what seemed like an entire loaf of bread. One slice after another. Char one side and then the other. And make sure to waft that malodorous breeze up to my place, please…
And then on the drive in just now, another smell. This time it was the same one that I remember somewhere in Indiana or Missouri from when my family moved from Ohio to Oklahoma (yes, people do move TO Oklahoma…). Dad was up ahead in one car, and I was with my sister, Mom and dog, Abbott, in another. I was sure the smell was Abbott (of course). No one else noticed anything, and I have since smelled the same smell and now think it’s from a sycamore tree. Perhaps that’s my superpower – I can smell sycamores. Great. That’s like winning $40 in a $40,000,000 lottery. The smell of money, on the other hand…
Oh, one more thing. If you ever think that once you measure and re-measure the space where you want your new wood blinds to go, you’re done … you’re not. The blinds will be carefully ordered, picked up, and unpacked. Then you’ll wait a couple of days because you’re lazy, and then you’ll realize the blinds are 1 inch too wide and you’ll stomp on the floor in a rage. And then your neighbors will burn a loaf of bread the next morning in appreciation….
Happy smelling - NATHAN
This morning the “smell” theme continued when the lovely folks who live on the floor below decided to awaken me with the delicious aroma of burning what seemed like an entire loaf of bread. One slice after another. Char one side and then the other. And make sure to waft that malodorous breeze up to my place, please…
And then on the drive in just now, another smell. This time it was the same one that I remember somewhere in Indiana or Missouri from when my family moved from Ohio to Oklahoma (yes, people do move TO Oklahoma…). Dad was up ahead in one car, and I was with my sister, Mom and dog, Abbott, in another. I was sure the smell was Abbott (of course). No one else noticed anything, and I have since smelled the same smell and now think it’s from a sycamore tree. Perhaps that’s my superpower – I can smell sycamores. Great. That’s like winning $40 in a $40,000,000 lottery. The smell of money, on the other hand…
Oh, one more thing. If you ever think that once you measure and re-measure the space where you want your new wood blinds to go, you’re done … you’re not. The blinds will be carefully ordered, picked up, and unpacked. Then you’ll wait a couple of days because you’re lazy, and then you’ll realize the blinds are 1 inch too wide and you’ll stomp on the floor in a rage. And then your neighbors will burn a loaf of bread the next morning in appreciation….
Happy smelling - NATHAN
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Thirty-fifth and a half posting - more crap
Friends, the Bush spin machine is in full swing. Here is a link to a timeline of the events, which at least will give you a sense of what probably happened when -- and how easily interpretation (and misinterpretation) have become valuable tools in W's arsenal.
http://talkingpointsmemo.com/katrina-timeline.php
NATHAN
http://talkingpointsmemo.com/katrina-timeline.php
NATHAN
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Thirty-fifth posting - spin
Welcome back from your vacations, friends. My four days off were wonderful, but they ended with a bittersweet reminder of both the fragility and tenuousness of life for so many Americans.
News reports usually don’t make me cry, as I am generally a fairly put-together person and not emotionally demonstrative. Last night, however, reading the extensive coverage in the New York Times of the tragedy in New Orleans, changed that.
Before I moved into my condo, the mortgage company required proof of flood insurance for my building, which sits about 200 feet from a small river. Then I thought it was silly. Now the notion of a flood takes on a whole new meaning.
While I am proud of the thousands of workers and volunteers who are just starting to rebuild lives of the victims and who are hosting and caring for America’s own refugees, I am embarrassed by the Bush administration response to Hurricane Katrina. Bush’s “spin” machine is incapable of solving this mess – I just hope the good sense of most Americans makes up for his incompetence.
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Following is a letter published by The Times-Picayune of New Orleans http://www.nola.com/t-p/ . Powerful.
OUR OPINIONS: An open letter to the President
Dear Mr. President:
We heard you loud and clear Friday when you visited our devastated city and the Gulf Coast and said, "What is not working, we’re going to make it right."
Please forgive us if we wait to see proof of your promise before believing you. But we have good reason for our skepticism.
Bienville built New Orleans where he built it for one main reason: It’s accessible. The city between the Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain was easy to reach in 1718.
How much easier it is to access in 2005 now that there are interstates and bridges, airports and helipads, cruise ships, barges, buses and diesel-powered trucks.
Despite the city’s multiple points of entry, our nation’s bureaucrats spent days after last week’s hurricane wringing their hands, lamenting the fact that they could neither rescue the city’s stranded victims nor bring them food, water and medical supplies.
Meanwhile there were journalists, including some who work for The Times-Picayune, going in and out of the city via the Crescent City Connection. On Thursday morning, that crew saw a caravan of 13 Wal-Mart tractor-trailers headed into town to bring food, water and supplies to a dying city.
Television reporters were doing live reports from downtown New Orleans streets. Harry Connick Jr. brought in some aid Thursday, and his efforts were the focus of a "Today" show story Friday morning.
Yet, the people trained to protect our nation, the people whose job it is to quickly bring in aid were absent. Those who should have been deploying troops were singing a sad song about how our city was impossible to reach.
We’re angry, Mr. President, and we’ll be angry long after our beloved city and surrounding parishes have been pumped dry. Our people deserved rescuing. Many who could have been were not. That’s to the government’s shame.
Mayor Ray Nagin did the right thing Sunday when he allowed those with no other alternative to seek shelter from the storm inside the Louisiana Superdome. We still don’t know what the death toll is, but one thing is certain: Had the Superdome not been opened, the city’s death toll would have been higher. The toll may even have been exponentially higher.
It was clear to us by late morning Monday that many people inside the Superdome would not be returning home. It should have been clear to our government, Mr. President. So why weren’t they evacuated out of the city immediately? We learned seven years ago, when Hurricane Georges threatened, that the Dome isn’t suitable as a long-term shelter. So what did state and national officials think would happen to tens of thousands of people trapped inside with no air conditioning, overflowing toilets and dwindling amounts of food, water and other essentials?
State Rep. Karen Carter was right Friday when she said the city didn’t have but two urgent needs: "Buses! And gas!" Every official at the Federal Emergency Management Agency should be fired, Director Michael Brown especially.
In a nationally televised interview Thursday night, he said his agency hadn’t known until that day that thousands of storm victims were stranded at the Ernest N. Morial Convention Center. He gave another nationally televised interview the next morning and said, "We’ve provided food to the people at the Convention Center so that they’ve gotten at least one, if not two meals, every single day."
Lies don’t get more bald-faced than that, Mr. President.
Yet, when you met with Mr. Brown Friday morning, you told him, "You’re doing a heck of a job."
That’s unbelievable.
There were thousands of people at the Convention Center because the riverfront is high ground. The fact that so many people had reached there on foot is proof that rescue vehicles could have gotten there, too.
We, who are from New Orleans, are no less American than those who live on the Great Plains or along the Atlantic Seaboard. We’re no less important than those from the Pacific Northwest or Appalachia. Our people deserved to be rescued.
No expense should have been spared. No excuses should have been voiced. Especially not one as preposterous as the claim that New Orleans couldn’t be reached.
Mr. President, we sincerely hope you fulfill your promise to make our beloved communities work right once again.
When you do, we will be the first to applaud.
<><><><><><><>
I know this isn’t the all-smiles and opens arms Welcome Back you expected to read from me, but today that didn’t seem as important. Have a great week, though … autumn (for those who like it) is on its way. NATHAN
News reports usually don’t make me cry, as I am generally a fairly put-together person and not emotionally demonstrative. Last night, however, reading the extensive coverage in the New York Times of the tragedy in New Orleans, changed that.
Before I moved into my condo, the mortgage company required proof of flood insurance for my building, which sits about 200 feet from a small river. Then I thought it was silly. Now the notion of a flood takes on a whole new meaning.
While I am proud of the thousands of workers and volunteers who are just starting to rebuild lives of the victims and who are hosting and caring for America’s own refugees, I am embarrassed by the Bush administration response to Hurricane Katrina. Bush’s “spin” machine is incapable of solving this mess – I just hope the good sense of most Americans makes up for his incompetence.
<><><><><><><>
Following is a letter published by The Times-Picayune of New Orleans http://www.nola.com/t-p/ . Powerful.
OUR OPINIONS: An open letter to the President
Dear Mr. President:
We heard you loud and clear Friday when you visited our devastated city and the Gulf Coast and said, "What is not working, we’re going to make it right."
Please forgive us if we wait to see proof of your promise before believing you. But we have good reason for our skepticism.
Bienville built New Orleans where he built it for one main reason: It’s accessible. The city between the Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain was easy to reach in 1718.
How much easier it is to access in 2005 now that there are interstates and bridges, airports and helipads, cruise ships, barges, buses and diesel-powered trucks.
Despite the city’s multiple points of entry, our nation’s bureaucrats spent days after last week’s hurricane wringing their hands, lamenting the fact that they could neither rescue the city’s stranded victims nor bring them food, water and medical supplies.
Meanwhile there were journalists, including some who work for The Times-Picayune, going in and out of the city via the Crescent City Connection. On Thursday morning, that crew saw a caravan of 13 Wal-Mart tractor-trailers headed into town to bring food, water and supplies to a dying city.
Television reporters were doing live reports from downtown New Orleans streets. Harry Connick Jr. brought in some aid Thursday, and his efforts were the focus of a "Today" show story Friday morning.
Yet, the people trained to protect our nation, the people whose job it is to quickly bring in aid were absent. Those who should have been deploying troops were singing a sad song about how our city was impossible to reach.
We’re angry, Mr. President, and we’ll be angry long after our beloved city and surrounding parishes have been pumped dry. Our people deserved rescuing. Many who could have been were not. That’s to the government’s shame.
Mayor Ray Nagin did the right thing Sunday when he allowed those with no other alternative to seek shelter from the storm inside the Louisiana Superdome. We still don’t know what the death toll is, but one thing is certain: Had the Superdome not been opened, the city’s death toll would have been higher. The toll may even have been exponentially higher.
It was clear to us by late morning Monday that many people inside the Superdome would not be returning home. It should have been clear to our government, Mr. President. So why weren’t they evacuated out of the city immediately? We learned seven years ago, when Hurricane Georges threatened, that the Dome isn’t suitable as a long-term shelter. So what did state and national officials think would happen to tens of thousands of people trapped inside with no air conditioning, overflowing toilets and dwindling amounts of food, water and other essentials?
State Rep. Karen Carter was right Friday when she said the city didn’t have but two urgent needs: "Buses! And gas!" Every official at the Federal Emergency Management Agency should be fired, Director Michael Brown especially.
In a nationally televised interview Thursday night, he said his agency hadn’t known until that day that thousands of storm victims were stranded at the Ernest N. Morial Convention Center. He gave another nationally televised interview the next morning and said, "We’ve provided food to the people at the Convention Center so that they’ve gotten at least one, if not two meals, every single day."
Lies don’t get more bald-faced than that, Mr. President.
Yet, when you met with Mr. Brown Friday morning, you told him, "You’re doing a heck of a job."
That’s unbelievable.
There were thousands of people at the Convention Center because the riverfront is high ground. The fact that so many people had reached there on foot is proof that rescue vehicles could have gotten there, too.
We, who are from New Orleans, are no less American than those who live on the Great Plains or along the Atlantic Seaboard. We’re no less important than those from the Pacific Northwest or Appalachia. Our people deserved to be rescued.
No expense should have been spared. No excuses should have been voiced. Especially not one as preposterous as the claim that New Orleans couldn’t be reached.
Mr. President, we sincerely hope you fulfill your promise to make our beloved communities work right once again.
When you do, we will be the first to applaud.
<><><><><><><>
I know this isn’t the all-smiles and opens arms Welcome Back you expected to read from me, but today that didn’t seem as important. Have a great week, though … autumn (for those who like it) is on its way. NATHAN
Monday, August 29, 2005
Thirty-fourth posting - Lots
I know, I know. It’s been forever since I have last posted, and you’ve missed me tremendously. What have I been doing? What are the latest rants? Raves? Here goes…
Upstate New York. Last weekend I was in Upstate New York. For those of you unfamiliar with the area, it is 95% of the state of New York outside of, New York City, Long Island and Westchester County. It is also a weekend playground for city dwellers looking for “the country.” Directions are easy – go North. The area we went to was the beautiful Hudson River valley, with wineries, cute towns and villages, rolling green hills with cool hikes, and one of the state’s crunchiest towns – New Paltz. If you’re in the area, a wonderful place for dinner is in Stone Ridge at The French Corner http://cityguide.pojonews.com/fe/Dining/stories/dn_french_corner.asp I had cold local sweet corn soup with duck prosciutto, then salmon "mignon" over purple cabbage. My friend had cold sausage with coco beans, then pork with Swiss chard and mashed potatoes with broccoli and something like an avocado. One dessert was mocha tart, the other was stewed figs. The whole experience was fantastic -- plus the fact that it was $25 prix fixe was even better. And we got to meet the chef (Jacques). My mouth is watering just writing about it.
Yankee Game. Went with a few buddies to the Yankees – Blue Jays game last Monday. The Yankees won the series 2-1, and we saw the first game, a shutout with pitcher Jaret Wright, who was just off the DL to throw 60 of 99 pitches for strikes. Perfect night for baseball – 70s and dry.
Park. Mayor Bloomberg (or his company, at least) sponsors an annual film series in Central Park, and this year’s flicks included those with New York scenes. I went last week for a delicious picnic under the stars and a surprisingly ok musical called The Bandwagon, Fred Astair’s last movie (and also starring a sexy Cyd Charisse, who evidently changed her name to that from Tula Ellice Finklea). Several catchy tunes, including That’s Entertainment (well, perhaps just one catchy tune, if you can call it catchy). For future reference, though, don’t think that you’ll be actually allowed to bring picnic items (including wine, glasses, knives, picnic baskets into the park) for a picnic which was encouraged, because people may trip over them – as New Yorkers are prone to tripping over such items…
Upstate New York. Last weekend I was in Upstate New York. For those of you unfamiliar with the area, it is 95% of the state of New York outside of, New York City, Long Island and Westchester County. It is also a weekend playground for city dwellers looking for “the country.” Directions are easy – go North. The area we went to was the beautiful Hudson River valley, with wineries, cute towns and villages, rolling green hills with cool hikes, and one of the state’s crunchiest towns – New Paltz. If you’re in the area, a wonderful place for dinner is in Stone Ridge at The French Corner http://cityguide.pojonews.com/fe/Dining/stories/dn_french_corner.asp I had cold local sweet corn soup with duck prosciutto, then salmon "mignon" over purple cabbage. My friend had cold sausage with coco beans, then pork with Swiss chard and mashed potatoes with broccoli and something like an avocado. One dessert was mocha tart, the other was stewed figs. The whole experience was fantastic -- plus the fact that it was $25 prix fixe was even better. And we got to meet the chef (Jacques). My mouth is watering just writing about it.
Yankee Game. Went with a few buddies to the Yankees – Blue Jays game last Monday. The Yankees won the series 2-1, and we saw the first game, a shutout with pitcher Jaret Wright, who was just off the DL to throw 60 of 99 pitches for strikes. Perfect night for baseball – 70s and dry.
Park. Mayor Bloomberg (or his company, at least) sponsors an annual film series in Central Park, and this year’s flicks included those with New York scenes. I went last week for a delicious picnic under the stars and a surprisingly ok musical called The Bandwagon, Fred Astair’s last movie (and also starring a sexy Cyd Charisse, who evidently changed her name to that from Tula Ellice Finklea). Several catchy tunes, including That’s Entertainment (well, perhaps just one catchy tune, if you can call it catchy). For future reference, though, don’t think that you’ll be actually allowed to bring picnic items (including wine, glasses, knives, picnic baskets into the park) for a picnic which was encouraged, because people may trip over them – as New Yorkers are prone to tripping over such items…
Melting Pot. There is a chain of restaurants around the US called The Melting Pot, based on – take a guess – fondue. Interesting place, particularly the one in Darien, CT (where the word W.A.S.P. was invented). Our dinner was fine (fortunately, I am a big cheese fan), although the most memorable part was the service. It was generally bad, but the waitress was a character. She was clearly a decades-long smoker, and I have a feeling we got her on a bad day – unless giving the impression that she’s been dragged around the block more than once is a “good” day for her. We were never quite sure whether she was actually angry that we were touching the fondue pot she told us not to touch…. This sort of manic behavior (and my confidence that she was sporting a few questionable tattoos under her cheese-, chocolate- and oil-stained apron) suggested a better environment for her would have been a biker bar. Of course, there isn’t a biker bar anywhere near Darien, Connecticut….
Yesterday I rode the Tour de Putnam (also in Upstate New York). My team had signed up for the full century, but with pouring rain and less-than-warm temps, we took in 50 mi and called it a wet wet day. The route did seem quite pretty through my foggy, smeared lenses, but hopefully we can find another 100 mi route before the season ends. Next up, though, are my fall biathlons (Sep 18 and Oct 9) in Central Park. Hoping to improve on personal record of 1:14:28…
American Graffiti. Some of you may know that most of my Top 5 lists include many more than five. In terms of movies, however, American Graffiti has now made it into my Really Top 5 Movies list. Released in 1973, American Graffiti includes early performances by Richard Dreyfuss, Ron Howard, Cindy Williams, Mackenzie Phillips and Harrison Ford. Essentially it is a one night snapshot in the early 60s of the misadventures of four California teenagers before two are supposed to head off to college. I found myself smiling throughout the movie (I’m a dork, yes), but the casting was superb – I read that you can’t imagine anyone else playing those parts, and I agree. It was a sweet nostalgic look at real life from a director who went on to movies that explored lives far from it (Star Wars, Indiana Jones)…
Bye for now, NATHAN
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Thirty-third posting - 4
I am tired of waking up in the morning and hearing the radio from my alarm clock announce: "...four more US military deaths in Iraq..." It seems like every day there are four more, and these fours have already totalled more than 1860 (which is 1860 too many). Although I couldn't join them, there were about 100 people in downtown Stamford last night for a candlelight vigil, 85 in Norwalk, and almost 200 in Westport. Stamford's mayor Dan Malloy attended and voiced his support: "I think the president is making an unbelievably personal and political mistake in not meeting with the mother of a soldier who died," Malloy said. "I'm just amazed at how callous his behavior he's engaged in (is), and I just think it's a huge mistake."
Following is an article from the Detroit Free Press, that captures some of what happened last night (and ----).
From Michigan to Texas, war foes join Texas-based protest
August 18, 2005, 4:14 AM
CRAWFORD, Texas (AP) -- As the sun dipped behind pastures around a makeshift campsite of anti-war demonstrators near President Bush's ranch, more than 200 people silently clutched candles and gathered around a flag-draped coffin.
The vigil calling for an end to the war in Iraq was among hundreds nationwide as protesters from Grand Rapids, Mich., to Concord, N.H., joined the national effort spurred by one mother's anti-war demonstration. Cindy Sheehan has become an icon of the anti-war movement since she started the protest Aug. 6.
"For the more than 1,800 who have come home this way in flag-draped coffins, each one ... was a son or a daughter, not cannon fodder to be used so recklessly," said Sheehan, whose 24-year-old son Casey died in Iraq last year. "Each one is a valuable human life that is missed so desperately."
More than 1,600 vigils were held from coast to coast Wednesday, according to the organizers, liberal advocacy groups MoveOn.org Political Action, TrueMajority and Democracy for America. A vigil was also held at Paris' Peace Wall, a glass monument near the Eiffel Tower that says "peace" in 32 languages.
In West Michigan, hundreds of people, some the parents of soldiers on duty in Iraq, participated in a vigil in Grand Rapids. Another group of about 100 people marched outside the federal courthouse in Detroit. The vigils were among dozens planned across the state.
Along with candles and flags, some of the 300 people who gathered at a park in Nashville, Tenn., brought signs and banners of protest. One banner read, "Thank you for your courage Cindy."
"This is a good example of how one person can make a difference," said Gigi Gaskins, 44, of Nashville.
Sheehan, of Vacaville, Calif., has said she won't leave Texas until Bush's monthlong vacation ends or he meets with her and other grieving families. Bush has said he sympathizes with Sheehan but has made no indication he will meet with her. Two top Bush administration officials talked to Sheehan the day she started her camp, and she and other families met with Bush shortly after her son's death and before she became a vocal opponent of the war.
Some critics say Sheehan is exploiting her son's death to promote a left-wing agenda supported by her and groups with which she associates.
Before the Crawford vigil began, Gary Qualls, of Temple, walked to the protesters' memorial to fallen U.S. soldiers and removed a wooden cross bearing his son's name. Qualls said he supports the war effort even though his 20-year-old son Louis was killed in Fallujah last fall serving with the Marine Reserves. "I don't believe in some of the things happening here," he said. "I find it disrespectful."
Those backing Sheehan, though, voiced their support across the country. In Minnesota, more than 1,000 war protesters stood on a bridge linking Minneapolis and St. Paul. "This war has been disgraceful, with trumped-up reasons," Sue Ann Martinson said. "There were no weapons of mass destruction and the Iraqis didn't have anything to do with 9-11."
Near Philadelphia's Independence Hall, a few hundred people strained to hear the parent of a soldier killed in Iraq. "This war must stop," said Al Zappala, 65, whose 30-year-old son, Sgt. Sherwood Baker, died in an explosion in Baghdad in April 2004.
In Charleston, W.Va., a banner bearing the name, age, rank, hometown and date of death of all Americans killed in Iraq and Afghanistan was unrolled -- stretching the length of a city block.
About 170 people gathered on the courthouse steps in Hackensack, N.J., with many saying they were angry about the war but were supporting U.S. troops. "I'm a 46-year-old woman who, in my lifetime, has never seen the country so split," said Lil Corcoran. "My heart is broken."
Kenny Jones brought his 6-year-old daughter, Scouten, to a vigil in Portland, Ore. "I was raised to believe that war is no solution," Jones said. "Her mother and I are raising her that way, too. This war is illogical."
Actor Richard Dreyfuss attended a vigil in Los Angeles with his son and about 500 others. "When I was a kid in the Vietnam era, the war began to really go away when the mothers came into the streets," Dreyfuss said.
Meanwhile, a group called FreeRepublic.com held a pro-Bush rally that drew about 20 people to the same Washington, D.C., park where 300 people had gathered for a candlelight vigil. At one point, members of the two sides had a heated exchange over who was more patriotic.
"If they don't want to support it, they don't have to support it," said Iraq war veteran Kevin Pannell, who had both legs amputated after a grenade attack last year in Baghdad. "That's the reason I lost my legs."
I encourage you to take a few moments today to think about what's happening in Iraq and consider sharing those thought with your Senator or member of Congress. NATHAN
Following is an article from the Detroit Free Press, that captures some of what happened last night (and ----).
From Michigan to Texas, war foes join Texas-based protest
August 18, 2005, 4:14 AM
CRAWFORD, Texas (AP) -- As the sun dipped behind pastures around a makeshift campsite of anti-war demonstrators near President Bush's ranch, more than 200 people silently clutched candles and gathered around a flag-draped coffin.
The vigil calling for an end to the war in Iraq was among hundreds nationwide as protesters from Grand Rapids, Mich., to Concord, N.H., joined the national effort spurred by one mother's anti-war demonstration. Cindy Sheehan has become an icon of the anti-war movement since she started the protest Aug. 6.
"For the more than 1,800 who have come home this way in flag-draped coffins, each one ... was a son or a daughter, not cannon fodder to be used so recklessly," said Sheehan, whose 24-year-old son Casey died in Iraq last year. "Each one is a valuable human life that is missed so desperately."
More than 1,600 vigils were held from coast to coast Wednesday, according to the organizers, liberal advocacy groups MoveOn.org Political Action, TrueMajority and Democracy for America. A vigil was also held at Paris' Peace Wall, a glass monument near the Eiffel Tower that says "peace" in 32 languages.
In West Michigan, hundreds of people, some the parents of soldiers on duty in Iraq, participated in a vigil in Grand Rapids. Another group of about 100 people marched outside the federal courthouse in Detroit. The vigils were among dozens planned across the state.
Along with candles and flags, some of the 300 people who gathered at a park in Nashville, Tenn., brought signs and banners of protest. One banner read, "Thank you for your courage Cindy."
"This is a good example of how one person can make a difference," said Gigi Gaskins, 44, of Nashville.
Sheehan, of Vacaville, Calif., has said she won't leave Texas until Bush's monthlong vacation ends or he meets with her and other grieving families. Bush has said he sympathizes with Sheehan but has made no indication he will meet with her. Two top Bush administration officials talked to Sheehan the day she started her camp, and she and other families met with Bush shortly after her son's death and before she became a vocal opponent of the war.
Some critics say Sheehan is exploiting her son's death to promote a left-wing agenda supported by her and groups with which she associates.
Before the Crawford vigil began, Gary Qualls, of Temple, walked to the protesters' memorial to fallen U.S. soldiers and removed a wooden cross bearing his son's name. Qualls said he supports the war effort even though his 20-year-old son Louis was killed in Fallujah last fall serving with the Marine Reserves. "I don't believe in some of the things happening here," he said. "I find it disrespectful."
Those backing Sheehan, though, voiced their support across the country. In Minnesota, more than 1,000 war protesters stood on a bridge linking Minneapolis and St. Paul. "This war has been disgraceful, with trumped-up reasons," Sue Ann Martinson said. "There were no weapons of mass destruction and the Iraqis didn't have anything to do with 9-11."
Near Philadelphia's Independence Hall, a few hundred people strained to hear the parent of a soldier killed in Iraq. "This war must stop," said Al Zappala, 65, whose 30-year-old son, Sgt. Sherwood Baker, died in an explosion in Baghdad in April 2004.
In Charleston, W.Va., a banner bearing the name, age, rank, hometown and date of death of all Americans killed in Iraq and Afghanistan was unrolled -- stretching the length of a city block.
About 170 people gathered on the courthouse steps in Hackensack, N.J., with many saying they were angry about the war but were supporting U.S. troops. "I'm a 46-year-old woman who, in my lifetime, has never seen the country so split," said Lil Corcoran. "My heart is broken."
Kenny Jones brought his 6-year-old daughter, Scouten, to a vigil in Portland, Ore. "I was raised to believe that war is no solution," Jones said. "Her mother and I are raising her that way, too. This war is illogical."
Actor Richard Dreyfuss attended a vigil in Los Angeles with his son and about 500 others. "When I was a kid in the Vietnam era, the war began to really go away when the mothers came into the streets," Dreyfuss said.
Meanwhile, a group called FreeRepublic.com held a pro-Bush rally that drew about 20 people to the same Washington, D.C., park where 300 people had gathered for a candlelight vigil. At one point, members of the two sides had a heated exchange over who was more patriotic.
"If they don't want to support it, they don't have to support it," said Iraq war veteran Kevin Pannell, who had both legs amputated after a grenade attack last year in Baghdad. "That's the reason I lost my legs."
I encourage you to take a few moments today to think about what's happening in Iraq and consider sharing those thought with your Senator or member of Congress. NATHAN
Monday, August 15, 2005
Thirty-second posting - BI
On Saturday I went to Block Island (Rhode Island) with my bike club (http://www.soundcyclists.com). It’s a great club, among the largest in the Northeast, with dozens of weekend rides, standing rides during the week, and a traditional Friday-night “un-winder” that lets people get rid of all of the week’s pent up frustration, energy, angst, etc. For the most part, club membership seems to be skewed more toward 30-40+ than younger and normally there is a good mix of folks on the rides, which are organized by speed (A ride to D ride). On Fridays, upwards of 70 people naturally divide into faster and slower groups.
Although the Block Island (http://www.blockislandinfo.com/) ride was published as leisurely paced, I expected a similar range of people (ages and abilities). Of the 25 people, however, there was a healthy dose of the oh-my-god-I-can’t-breathe-because-this-hill-is-so-steep riders as well as the good-for-you-for-still-riding-at-70-years-old-but-no-one-told-me-we’d-be-waiting-for-every-single-person-at-every-lighthouse, not to mention the poor woman who fell on the ferry sailing to Block Island, and then got a nasty gash on her arm, and then was cut off on her bike by a kid running across the road, and then I think she may actually have gotten lost… And finally there was a middle-aged woman with the longest, blackest hair I’d ever seen. Mind you, I was jealous of the quantity of hair, but as it was a windy day, her mop was blowing all over the place – across the picnic table, into other people’s faces, into her lobster roll… (If someone pumped her stomach, I bet they’d find a ball of her own hair in there.)
Overall, though, it was a fun trip – and the beautiful and low-key Block Island is definitely a place worth visiting again. The question now is: Where’s my next trip? NATHAN
Although the Block Island (http://www.blockislandinfo.com/) ride was published as leisurely paced, I expected a similar range of people (ages and abilities). Of the 25 people, however, there was a healthy dose of the oh-my-god-I-can’t-breathe-because-this-hill-is-so-steep riders as well as the good-for-you-for-still-riding-at-70-years-old-but-no-one-told-me-we’d-be-waiting-for-every-single-person-at-every-lighthouse, not to mention the poor woman who fell on the ferry sailing to Block Island, and then got a nasty gash on her arm, and then was cut off on her bike by a kid running across the road, and then I think she may actually have gotten lost… And finally there was a middle-aged woman with the longest, blackest hair I’d ever seen. Mind you, I was jealous of the quantity of hair, but as it was a windy day, her mop was blowing all over the place – across the picnic table, into other people’s faces, into her lobster roll… (If someone pumped her stomach, I bet they’d find a ball of her own hair in there.)
Overall, though, it was a fun trip – and the beautiful and low-key Block Island is definitely a place worth visiting again. The question now is: Where’s my next trip? NATHAN
Friday, August 12, 2005
Thirty-first posting - dream
It's ok to dream, right? I dream -- a lot -- that someday, I will walk home from work through the woods, put on my sneakers and go for a run. When I return, I will grab a muffin from the muffin shop, say hello to Gerta/Annie/Sue the muffin lady, and then walk back home. Another day I will walk home through the woods, get on my bike and ride for a couple of hours with folks who live nearby and want to be competitive sometimes and relaxed other times. Is that too much to ask?
Today my company's electronic systems seem to be on the fritz, including the phones, and my dependence on all things electronic became strikingly apparent. I don't like that. I also don't like knowing that I'll feel better with the air conditioning on in my condo because it's humid as all get-out. And I don't like knowing that so much of the crap I buy comes in plastic that I try my best to recycle but didn't need to be packaged in plastic in the first place. And finally, I don't like the fact that my company's cafeteria uses styrofoam at lunch and in the coffee rooms. Come to think of it, maybe I should start bringing my lunch and buying only what doesn't need packaging....
Is it guilt for not making this a better world? Maybe. Is it just a random Friday afternoon thought before I head to Block Island with my bike club tomorrow? Yes. Enjoy your weekends, NATHAN
Today my company's electronic systems seem to be on the fritz, including the phones, and my dependence on all things electronic became strikingly apparent. I don't like that. I also don't like knowing that I'll feel better with the air conditioning on in my condo because it's humid as all get-out. And I don't like knowing that so much of the crap I buy comes in plastic that I try my best to recycle but didn't need to be packaged in plastic in the first place. And finally, I don't like the fact that my company's cafeteria uses styrofoam at lunch and in the coffee rooms. Come to think of it, maybe I should start bringing my lunch and buying only what doesn't need packaging....
Is it guilt for not making this a better world? Maybe. Is it just a random Friday afternoon thought before I head to Block Island with my bike club tomorrow? Yes. Enjoy your weekends, NATHAN
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Thirtieth posting - UN
Now that Bill Clinton’s been out of office for a few years, what’s he doing? We have seen him traipsing around Harlem, stumping for one cause or another. We’ve seen him paired with Bush 41, making nice with the political Center and raising money and resources for tsunami relief. Now he wants his William J. Clinton Foundation to partner with the American Heart Association "stop the increasing prevalence of childhood obesity" in the United States by 2010. I guess that means no more trips to McDonald’s…
He certainly wants to stay in the public eye and in the headlines … but for what? Several sources, including (most exhaustively, the Washington Post) have reported that his dream job is Secretary-General of the United Nations. From Leader of the Free World to Leader of the Whole World, why not? Under his assignment of coordinator for tsunami relief, he has already been given a United Nations office, a UN identity card and diplomatic passport. Kofi Annan’s second five-year term officially ends Jan 1 2007, but with the oil-for-food issue that still doesn’t seem completely resolved, his tenure may be over sooner than that.
To be honest, I hadn’t thought about Bill Clinton as UN Secretary-General until a friend mentioned it this weekend, and compared to the blistering personalities of Annan, Boutros Boutros-Ghali, and Javier de Perez de Cuellar, Bill would be a breath of fresh air, don’t you think?
(And yes, there are internships available at the UN. I looked it up http://www.un.org ) Only half-kidding, NATHAN
He certainly wants to stay in the public eye and in the headlines … but for what? Several sources, including (most exhaustively, the Washington Post) have reported that his dream job is Secretary-General of the United Nations. From Leader of the Free World to Leader of the Whole World, why not? Under his assignment of coordinator for tsunami relief, he has already been given a United Nations office, a UN identity card and diplomatic passport. Kofi Annan’s second five-year term officially ends Jan 1 2007, but with the oil-for-food issue that still doesn’t seem completely resolved, his tenure may be over sooner than that.
To be honest, I hadn’t thought about Bill Clinton as UN Secretary-General until a friend mentioned it this weekend, and compared to the blistering personalities of Annan, Boutros Boutros-Ghali, and Javier de Perez de Cuellar, Bill would be a breath of fresh air, don’t you think?
(And yes, there are internships available at the UN. I looked it up http://www.un.org ) Only half-kidding, NATHAN
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Twenty-ninth posting - dirt
All – the adjustment to my new place has gone swimmingly lately. The crap I have had to put up with seems to have abated, for now, and my lists of What I Like and What I Don’t Like about the condo are tilting a little more toward What I Like. I won’t bore you with the details (yet), but I did meet a couple on my floor who seemed younger than 70. This is good.
This weekend I went to a fantastic restaurant in midtown called Mix, one of Alain Ducasse’s creations. I read the reviews beforehand, and they were so-so (although all written prior to a recent change in chef). Based on my experience, the reviewers should try again. We had the prix fixe tasting menu, and each dish seemed to get better and better over the course of evening. A highlight was asparagus spears with a scoop of Parmesan “ice cream.” The service was outstanding, and the atmosphere felt like a tripped out Scandinavian airport lounge … with better music.
Sunday I went to see Dave Matthews (and the Black Eyed Peas, among others) play at Randall’s Island, in NY. It should have been billed as Dust Fest 2005. The location was interesting and would have been great, had the ground not been dry as a bone, with 4 and a half blades of grass on an area the size of 2 football fields. We didn’t show up until 5, so the air was saturated with dust – and even today, I still feel a little like Pigpen. My advice: if you’re going to get dirty, roll in it. NATHAN
(P.S. I miss Lance. Next up is La Vuelta Espana - Tour of Spain, or as the official website calls it -- Breathless spectacle, terrible passion, thousands of people, what a discovery.... " He's not riding in it, but it's road biking, so it's good.)
This weekend I went to a fantastic restaurant in midtown called Mix, one of Alain Ducasse’s creations. I read the reviews beforehand, and they were so-so (although all written prior to a recent change in chef). Based on my experience, the reviewers should try again. We had the prix fixe tasting menu, and each dish seemed to get better and better over the course of evening. A highlight was asparagus spears with a scoop of Parmesan “ice cream.” The service was outstanding, and the atmosphere felt like a tripped out Scandinavian airport lounge … with better music.
Sunday I went to see Dave Matthews (and the Black Eyed Peas, among others) play at Randall’s Island, in NY. It should have been billed as Dust Fest 2005. The location was interesting and would have been great, had the ground not been dry as a bone, with 4 and a half blades of grass on an area the size of 2 football fields. We didn’t show up until 5, so the air was saturated with dust – and even today, I still feel a little like Pigpen. My advice: if you’re going to get dirty, roll in it. NATHAN
(P.S. I miss Lance. Next up is La Vuelta Espana - Tour of Spain, or as the official website calls it -- Breathless spectacle, terrible passion, thousands of people, what a discovery.... " He's not riding in it, but it's road biking, so it's good.)
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Twenty-eighth posting - ha ha
Short posting with two things that I thought were particularly funny. The first, from a friend describing Fire Island -- "There really is nothing to do but sit in the sun, and everyone was as brown as a nut." The second, a name I swear I heard on NPR -- Rabbit-hat Potpie (for the best linguistic effect, say it out loud). For those of you out there with children's book author aspirations, I hereby grant you permission to use it. NATHAN
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Twenty-seventh posting - floor
It's been too long since I last posted, but I will share a few thoughts before I give blood (which you should do, if you can...).
Expect everything wrong to happen when you move. The tub is going to get clogged, the tile guy will do a shitty job, the spanking new stove will sit in your living rooom for a week until the floor guys move it back, and every worker who steps into your apartment will contribute to a thick layer of dust that is beginning to coat everything. But you will have new neighbors...
I am the youngest person on the 4th floor by at least 40 years. Anne, who lives across from me, doesn't like to wear shoes (she told me) and keeps her toenails at least an inch long. She reminds me of shapeless troll, although she does rearrange my New York Times so it's nice and neat because the delivery guy is so careless... And then there's Carmine, who lives next door. He's 60 or so and is fond of wearing a speedo and gold chains to show off his over-tanned, leather-like skin. After introducing myself, Carmine asked me if I was Jewish. I replied that I wasn't and asked why. He said: "I would have asked you what a nice Jewish boy like you was doing with a tattoo...." It was time for me to go.
Where's the magic wand that makes everything better when you need it? NATHAN
Expect everything wrong to happen when you move. The tub is going to get clogged, the tile guy will do a shitty job, the spanking new stove will sit in your living rooom for a week until the floor guys move it back, and every worker who steps into your apartment will contribute to a thick layer of dust that is beginning to coat everything. But you will have new neighbors...
I am the youngest person on the 4th floor by at least 40 years. Anne, who lives across from me, doesn't like to wear shoes (she told me) and keeps her toenails at least an inch long. She reminds me of shapeless troll, although she does rearrange my New York Times so it's nice and neat because the delivery guy is so careless... And then there's Carmine, who lives next door. He's 60 or so and is fond of wearing a speedo and gold chains to show off his over-tanned, leather-like skin. After introducing myself, Carmine asked me if I was Jewish. I replied that I wasn't and asked why. He said: "I would have asked you what a nice Jewish boy like you was doing with a tattoo...." It was time for me to go.
Where's the magic wand that makes everything better when you need it? NATHAN
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Twenty-sixth posting - Murphy
Unfortunately, the magic from Millie’s fingers didn’t last long. Although Saturday was a great dinner group and a terrific night of schnitzel and fun, I feel like I’ve spent my days since then packing, painting, and growing more and more stressed about the Big Move.
Yesterday was particularly fun – late afternoon, my plumber was supposed to come by and install my recently purchased shower and bath fixtures. Because nothing is supposed to go right with my move, he told me (a) that I’d bought shower fixtures without the bath parts, and (b) he couldn’t do the job for me because he didn’t have time. Nice. I made some calls, left some messages, but went to sleep hoping that overnight, this would resolve itself. As I dropped off my car at the shop this morning (why wouldn’t my air conditioner have broken now??), I got a call back from a new plumber – so this may actually have been solved.
But wait, kids, there’s more! This afternoon, my floor guy called and told me that 7 of the 55 tiles he needed for the kitchen floor were broken, so tomorrow he won’t be able to grout everything. He assures me that the tiles under the appliances will be done before my new appliances arrive. I’m sure they won’t be, so my dream kitchen will have to wait.
And, five minutes later the car people called to tell me the parts I need won’t be in until tomorrow. Of course. Fortunately, I get a free rental (with kick-ass cold A/C), so it doesn’t matter that much.
Tomorrow the bathroom guy is supposed to get most of the way done with the shower tiles, so perhaps by Friday he’ll be done, and I Saturday I can use it. Or perhaps I will be showering in the parking lot... NATHAN
Yesterday was particularly fun – late afternoon, my plumber was supposed to come by and install my recently purchased shower and bath fixtures. Because nothing is supposed to go right with my move, he told me (a) that I’d bought shower fixtures without the bath parts, and (b) he couldn’t do the job for me because he didn’t have time. Nice. I made some calls, left some messages, but went to sleep hoping that overnight, this would resolve itself. As I dropped off my car at the shop this morning (why wouldn’t my air conditioner have broken now??), I got a call back from a new plumber – so this may actually have been solved.
But wait, kids, there’s more! This afternoon, my floor guy called and told me that 7 of the 55 tiles he needed for the kitchen floor were broken, so tomorrow he won’t be able to grout everything. He assures me that the tiles under the appliances will be done before my new appliances arrive. I’m sure they won’t be, so my dream kitchen will have to wait.
And, five minutes later the car people called to tell me the parts I need won’t be in until tomorrow. Of course. Fortunately, I get a free rental (with kick-ass cold A/C), so it doesn’t matter that much.
Tomorrow the bathroom guy is supposed to get most of the way done with the shower tiles, so perhaps by Friday he’ll be done, and I Saturday I can use it. Or perhaps I will be showering in the parking lot... NATHAN
Friday, July 15, 2005
Twenty-fifth posting - Millie
For those of you who haven't heard, I got my first full body massage this week. My sister had given me a gift certificate months ago at a fancy local spa, and knowing it was hard to get an after-work appointment, I booked right away. With my pending move, the appointment snuck up on me, but in the midst of the stresses of moving, the timing was perfect.
Because my only experience was with a trainer's sport massage at the company gym, I didn't really know what to expect. I won't go into all the details, but I have a couple of overall thoughts. (I can hear the "Of course you do, Nathan," from everyone...) The music set a pleasant mood, although I was conscious when the theme changed from vaguely Asian waterfalls, to vaguely classical, to vaguely Indian trance... I was never really sure when it was appropriate to talk or comment on what Millie, my masseuse, was doing. At one point, I mentioned I had a bony shoulder from a bike accident (although because I was buck naked, she obviously had seen it). Then Millie said she once had foot trouble walking on the Coney Island boardwalk -- and at the same time she lifted the towel/blanket completely off of my legs, and a suddenly cool breeze where I didn't think there would be breeze that session. Not that I expected her to work under the blanket, but there was a lot more shifting of covers and exposing more body than I thought.
I suppose it's her job, and Millie saw me like a butcher sees a side of beef, or a floor sander sees planks in a newly purchased condo that requires a 25,000 watt generator to be parked behind a building with a four story electrical cord -- so the only intimacy in the room was in my own mind. By the end of the massage, though, I think I overcame the notion that she was being paid to do something illicit, although there's a lingering feeling that she really thought I was special... NATHAN
Because my only experience was with a trainer's sport massage at the company gym, I didn't really know what to expect. I won't go into all the details, but I have a couple of overall thoughts. (I can hear the "Of course you do, Nathan," from everyone...) The music set a pleasant mood, although I was conscious when the theme changed from vaguely Asian waterfalls, to vaguely classical, to vaguely Indian trance... I was never really sure when it was appropriate to talk or comment on what Millie, my masseuse, was doing. At one point, I mentioned I had a bony shoulder from a bike accident (although because I was buck naked, she obviously had seen it). Then Millie said she once had foot trouble walking on the Coney Island boardwalk -- and at the same time she lifted the towel/blanket completely off of my legs, and a suddenly cool breeze where I didn't think there would be breeze that session. Not that I expected her to work under the blanket, but there was a lot more shifting of covers and exposing more body than I thought.
I suppose it's her job, and Millie saw me like a butcher sees a side of beef, or a floor sander sees planks in a newly purchased condo that requires a 25,000 watt generator to be parked behind a building with a four story electrical cord -- so the only intimacy in the room was in my own mind. By the end of the massage, though, I think I overcame the notion that she was being paid to do something illicit, although there's a lingering feeling that she really thought I was special... NATHAN
Monday, July 11, 2005
Twenty-fourth posting - drama
Short post today, friends.
First of all, it's a rest day for the Tour, and I really really really wish I was there to ride in the Alps. Here are a few words from a fellow blogger: "The Alps watch over Grenoble like a brooding, malevolent presence. It is up their narrow roads and over their tree-less summits that the race will now travel. The spectator throngs are already in place. Their campers and pup tents line the roads. The smell of grilling sausage from their portable barbecues rivals the relaxing aroma of wild lavender as the prevalent roadside fragrance. So, yeah, it's a day of rest. But it feels a whole lot more like a prelude to some great drama. The stage is set, now all we need is the actors."
Second, the current drama in my life is my condo. Here's the latest: My floor guys can't find a 220 volt/ 40 amp line that runs into my aparment. For those of you who care, that's 8800 watts (or 8.8 kilowatts). Most of the time, they just tap into the circuit breaker, but for some reason, I have a something-they've-never-seen-in-twelve-years-of-sanding-floors kind of circuit breaker that only has 20 amps. I don't even know what this means, but I'm trying to solve for it. The best solution is to bring in a generator (half the size of a VW beetle), park it beneath my window, and run a 4-story cord up to my place. Who knows what the Association will think...? Who cares...?
Third, I've shifted my moving and furniture delivery dates out one week. Gives the floor guys a little breathing room - and lets me linger next to good neighbor-friends (and a neighborhod I'll miss) for one more week.
And finally, the former tenants in my new place cooked a lot of Indian food and "broom-cleaned" (as required) before they left. Just so you know, "broom-cleaning" does not get rid of 1/4" thick grease off of the cabinets and stovetop vent, and it lingers ever so pleasantly in the air. And upon cursory inspection, the cabinets seems like fine wooden kitchen cabinets. Having scrubbed many of them, however, I now recognize them as cheap-Charlie particle board crap that will be the next big thing to go. Ah, yes, the hidden gems keep popping up.
Without a trace of buyer's remorse, NATHAN
First of all, it's a rest day for the Tour, and I really really really wish I was there to ride in the Alps. Here are a few words from a fellow blogger: "The Alps watch over Grenoble like a brooding, malevolent presence. It is up their narrow roads and over their tree-less summits that the race will now travel. The spectator throngs are already in place. Their campers and pup tents line the roads. The smell of grilling sausage from their portable barbecues rivals the relaxing aroma of wild lavender as the prevalent roadside fragrance. So, yeah, it's a day of rest. But it feels a whole lot more like a prelude to some great drama. The stage is set, now all we need is the actors."
Second, the current drama in my life is my condo. Here's the latest: My floor guys can't find a 220 volt/ 40 amp line that runs into my aparment. For those of you who care, that's 8800 watts (or 8.8 kilowatts). Most of the time, they just tap into the circuit breaker, but for some reason, I have a something-they've-never-seen-in-twelve-years-of-sanding-floors kind of circuit breaker that only has 20 amps. I don't even know what this means, but I'm trying to solve for it. The best solution is to bring in a generator (half the size of a VW beetle), park it beneath my window, and run a 4-story cord up to my place. Who knows what the Association will think...? Who cares...?
Third, I've shifted my moving and furniture delivery dates out one week. Gives the floor guys a little breathing room - and lets me linger next to good neighbor-friends (and a neighborhod I'll miss) for one more week.
And finally, the former tenants in my new place cooked a lot of Indian food and "broom-cleaned" (as required) before they left. Just so you know, "broom-cleaning" does not get rid of 1/4" thick grease off of the cabinets and stovetop vent, and it lingers ever so pleasantly in the air. And upon cursory inspection, the cabinets seems like fine wooden kitchen cabinets. Having scrubbed many of them, however, I now recognize them as cheap-Charlie particle board crap that will be the next big thing to go. Ah, yes, the hidden gems keep popping up.
Without a trace of buyer's remorse, NATHAN
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Twenty-third posting - various
I don't know where to begin. Today was a momentous day, last week was a fantastic week, and THE TOUR DE FRANCE IS IN FULL SWING!
1) Today I signed my name a million times, forked over oodles of dough and officially bought a condo. I own a home. I have set down slightly more permanent roots here in CT than I ever thought I would. I already have a few words of advice to those of you out there who are considering buying-- (a) a cheap attorney will get the job done but you'll never really understand what's going on until it's over, (b) when your real estate agent tells you to call the electric company and have the electricity put into your name, listen to her or it will be turned off and you will not be pleased with yourself, and (c) if one of the most important attributes of a place is its wood floor, MAKE ABSOLUTELY SURE that it is allowed. To point (c), I will state that the official condo documents are not completely clear ("Carpets should be maintained at all times ... with the exception of the bathroom and kitchen." To me, this meant that if there was carpet, it should be cared for. I was wrong, but I did convince the condo association to let me have area rugs...but it took all of my negotiating skills to get there.
2) Last week I spent with my family in heavily forested Northwest Wisconsin. Highlights were seeing a mama bear and 3 cubs right next to the cabin, running in the annual Musky Fest 5K and coming in top 15 (21:18), playing baseball on the lawn, fishing with Dad and hooking my brother in law, and for the first time, running 10 miles with my sister on her scheduled training run. For those of you who want to see the famous cabin on a lake, here's a link to the resort -- http://www.garmischresort.com/ .
3) I will end with the TdF, but what a great Team Time Trial! Of course, I don't think anyone thought Discovery would come in anywhere but in first, but it's too bad that the main excitement was for Dave' Zabriskie's bleeding wounds at the finish. Because I don't have OLN until the 15th, I'm forced to live online and watch/read. Blahh. After writing this, I may just see how much it would cost to get back to France for the mountain stages.. The next several stages are really for the sprinters anyway -- I'm just glad to see 3 Americans in the Top 5. Warm up the bus, Jan, it might just be time to go home.
Adieu for nieu, NATHAN
1) Today I signed my name a million times, forked over oodles of dough and officially bought a condo. I own a home. I have set down slightly more permanent roots here in CT than I ever thought I would. I already have a few words of advice to those of you out there who are considering buying-- (a) a cheap attorney will get the job done but you'll never really understand what's going on until it's over, (b) when your real estate agent tells you to call the electric company and have the electricity put into your name, listen to her or it will be turned off and you will not be pleased with yourself, and (c) if one of the most important attributes of a place is its wood floor, MAKE ABSOLUTELY SURE that it is allowed. To point (c), I will state that the official condo documents are not completely clear ("Carpets should be maintained at all times ... with the exception of the bathroom and kitchen." To me, this meant that if there was carpet, it should be cared for. I was wrong, but I did convince the condo association to let me have area rugs...but it took all of my negotiating skills to get there.
2) Last week I spent with my family in heavily forested Northwest Wisconsin. Highlights were seeing a mama bear and 3 cubs right next to the cabin, running in the annual Musky Fest 5K and coming in top 15 (21:18), playing baseball on the lawn, fishing with Dad and hooking my brother in law, and for the first time, running 10 miles with my sister on her scheduled training run. For those of you who want to see the famous cabin on a lake, here's a link to the resort -- http://www.garmischresort.com/ .
3) I will end with the TdF, but what a great Team Time Trial! Of course, I don't think anyone thought Discovery would come in anywhere but in first, but it's too bad that the main excitement was for Dave' Zabriskie's bleeding wounds at the finish. Because I don't have OLN until the 15th, I'm forced to live online and watch/read. Blahh. After writing this, I may just see how much it would cost to get back to France for the mountain stages.. The next several stages are really for the sprinters anyway -- I'm just glad to see 3 Americans in the Top 5. Warm up the bus, Jan, it might just be time to go home.
Adieu for nieu, NATHAN
Friday, June 24, 2005
Twenty-second posting - nostalgia
TGIF. It's been a long week, friends. Three days of listening to consumers talk about powdered beverages in focus groups. Good news, though -- for these groups, I think we actually found all of the remaining TANG consumers...
Around this time for the past 2 years, I was preparing for a trip to watch the Tour de France. This year, instead of seeing cyclists push their bodies to human limits (including my own) on the Alpe d'Huez, I'll be watching the paint dry on the walls of my new condo. Instead of sitting with a good friend in a Parisian sidewalk brasserie with a cold Kronenburg and plate of salmon and cheese, I'll be waiting for my refrigerator to arrive (and realizing that it won't fit in my kitchen). Instead of trying to get a glimpse of Lance (and Sheryl!!) near the USPS/ Discovery Channel team bus, I will be trying to figure out how to meet my new neighbors without stalking them. And instead of trying to simultaneously drive a mini-bus (more "bus" than "mini") in the Alps and read a French Michelin map that looks like vomit from a kid who just ate a box of Crayons, I will be driving my own car across town 200 times to pick up one more load...
Sure, it's because of extenuating circumstances, but this will have been the first summer in five years without a major bike trip (Canada, New England, France, France). Next year, friends, come hell or high water, I'm going back to Europe. Today, though, I'm headed to Northwest Wisconsin for a family vacation. Look for me on ESPN 3's next Lumberjack Championships...
NATHAN
P.S. I thought the following was pretty funny...
Monday, May 9, 2005
Protest against Eddie Bauer's Nanotech
On Saturday in Chicago, activists protested topless outside of the Eddie Bauer store on Michigan avenue. They're concerned that the Nano-Tex coating the company uses to make stain- and wrinkle-resistant clothing could cause health problems. Howard Lovy's NanoBot has posted exclusive photos of the protest and the press release from the activists, representing a Chicago group called THONG (Topless Humans Organized for Natural Genetics): "We’re out here naked so people can SEE THE PROBLEM, Nano-Tex is such a radical and unpredictable new technology, like biotech, that it takes something highly visible, like a naked body, to get people to focus on the need to stop corporations from using humans as guinea pigs for new, untested, and unstable new technologies!" said Kiki Walters of THONG.
And from a Chicago Sun Times report: Some passersby averted their eyes. Others giggled nervously and kept walking past the demonstrators -- about nine men and women who appeared to be in their 20s. "Where's their mother?'' asked Tonya Stewart of Bowling Green, Ky., in Chicago for an Auntie Anne's Pretzels franchise meeting. "Y'all are rude,'' scolded Juanita Simpson, 25, of Beverly. A bunch of guys in town for a bachelor party seemed to approve. "This is the most action we've seen all weekend,'' said Brian Siebert, 25, of St. Louis.
Around this time for the past 2 years, I was preparing for a trip to watch the Tour de France. This year, instead of seeing cyclists push their bodies to human limits (including my own) on the Alpe d'Huez, I'll be watching the paint dry on the walls of my new condo. Instead of sitting with a good friend in a Parisian sidewalk brasserie with a cold Kronenburg and plate of salmon and cheese, I'll be waiting for my refrigerator to arrive (and realizing that it won't fit in my kitchen). Instead of trying to get a glimpse of Lance (and Sheryl!!) near the USPS/ Discovery Channel team bus, I will be trying to figure out how to meet my new neighbors without stalking them. And instead of trying to simultaneously drive a mini-bus (more "bus" than "mini") in the Alps and read a French Michelin map that looks like vomit from a kid who just ate a box of Crayons, I will be driving my own car across town 200 times to pick up one more load...
Sure, it's because of extenuating circumstances, but this will have been the first summer in five years without a major bike trip (Canada, New England, France, France). Next year, friends, come hell or high water, I'm going back to Europe. Today, though, I'm headed to Northwest Wisconsin for a family vacation. Look for me on ESPN 3's next Lumberjack Championships...
NATHAN
P.S. I thought the following was pretty funny...
Monday, May 9, 2005
Protest against Eddie Bauer's Nanotech
On Saturday in Chicago, activists protested topless outside of the Eddie Bauer store on Michigan avenue. They're concerned that the Nano-Tex coating the company uses to make stain- and wrinkle-resistant clothing could cause health problems. Howard Lovy's NanoBot has posted exclusive photos of the protest and the press release from the activists, representing a Chicago group called THONG (Topless Humans Organized for Natural Genetics): "We’re out here naked so people can SEE THE PROBLEM, Nano-Tex is such a radical and unpredictable new technology, like biotech, that it takes something highly visible, like a naked body, to get people to focus on the need to stop corporations from using humans as guinea pigs for new, untested, and unstable new technologies!" said Kiki Walters of THONG.
And from a Chicago Sun Times report: Some passersby averted their eyes. Others giggled nervously and kept walking past the demonstrators -- about nine men and women who appeared to be in their 20s. "Where's their mother?'' asked Tonya Stewart of Bowling Green, Ky., in Chicago for an Auntie Anne's Pretzels franchise meeting. "Y'all are rude,'' scolded Juanita Simpson, 25, of Beverly. A bunch of guys in town for a bachelor party seemed to approve. "This is the most action we've seen all weekend,'' said Brian Siebert, 25, of St. Louis.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Twenty-first posting - eyes
Another duathlon under my belt. This one was the combined Long Island Gold Coast Triathlon /Duathlon, and for many of the competitors, was a prelim course for New York Triathlon on July 17. (I, however, was far far away from the triathletes.) There were almost 700 total competitors, 80 of whom raced in the duathlon (and all were happy we didn’t have to swim in the sixty-degree Long Island Sound).
The event was billed as a 3 mile run + 12 mile ride + 3 mile run. The runs didn’t end up that way – but I have yet to receive word on the final distances. Overall I came in 9th, top of my age group with time of 1:15:14, and my best time actually came in the first run. The ride had a couple of tight turns, which made things interesting, particularly when I got to swoop past some of the first timers. I do know that I averaged 19.5 mph on the bike, which I felt pretty good about.
I took some advice from Active.com and tried to fine a “peripheral vision” zone that let me focus more internally than externally. With the exception of the bike-to-run transition (the brick), I think it actually worked. Really. The idea is that you look ahead but pay less attention to what’s happening in front of you than to your sides. It works when you’re passing, but it’s very hard to do it when you’re being passed. I also felt like it gave my eyes a rest – strange, I know.
Give it a try this week, but not while you’re driving. Vroom vroom, NATHAN
The event was billed as a 3 mile run + 12 mile ride + 3 mile run. The runs didn’t end up that way – but I have yet to receive word on the final distances. Overall I came in 9th, top of my age group with time of 1:15:14, and my best time actually came in the first run. The ride had a couple of tight turns, which made things interesting, particularly when I got to swoop past some of the first timers. I do know that I averaged 19.5 mph on the bike, which I felt pretty good about.
I took some advice from Active.com and tried to fine a “peripheral vision” zone that let me focus more internally than externally. With the exception of the bike-to-run transition (the brick), I think it actually worked. Really. The idea is that you look ahead but pay less attention to what’s happening in front of you than to your sides. It works when you’re passing, but it’s very hard to do it when you’re being passed. I also felt like it gave my eyes a rest – strange, I know.
Give it a try this week, but not while you’re driving. Vroom vroom, NATHAN
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Twentieth posting - hot
It's hot here. Africa hot. Pee evaporates before it hits the pavement hot. Tires melting off of my wheels hot. This doesn't feel as bad, though, as my years in Washington when I walked to the office, shirt untucked and unbuttoned, hoping for some semblance of a breeze. It also doesn't sound hot. For those of you from Oklahoma (or lucky enough to have visited), you might remember hearing the cicadas buzzing from first thing in the morning until the sun goes down. To me that's the sound of hot.
This weekend I was up in Ithaca for my 5th year business school reunion. Was great to reconnect with friends I hadn't seen since graduation, and re-hash stories about people we liked and didn't like. We're a catty bunch, but deep down we're nice people. Like Ithaca, Cornell's campus is so beautiful that it was easy to forget the miserable winters. Overall I was surprised to hear so many people were still at the same company -- five years into the burn. We graduated slightly after the tech boom, so there were fewer West Coast casualties. One guy started a company called Jambo (http://www.jambo.net) which may or may not succeed because I still don't understand the business model, and another started one called Happy Wares (http://www.theezcarry.com/default.asp) and invented an ergonomically designed grip to help you carry plastic shopping bags. He made it on to QVC, which is (I'm told) the Holy Grail for inventors. Actually looks like he's already a success.
The funny thing about Ithaca is that it also brings out the latent entrepreneur in me. I've been there several times since graduation, and each time, I day dream about starting a microbrewery/ bookstore, or an adventure tour company, or a restaurant on the lake with a dock. The town is hardly the place to sustain these thoughts, although with a few million dollars coming my way in the next lottery, a house on Lake Cayuga would not be out of the question....
Day dreams must end, and work days must begin. Hope yours is a good one. NATHAN
This weekend I was up in Ithaca for my 5th year business school reunion. Was great to reconnect with friends I hadn't seen since graduation, and re-hash stories about people we liked and didn't like. We're a catty bunch, but deep down we're nice people. Like Ithaca, Cornell's campus is so beautiful that it was easy to forget the miserable winters. Overall I was surprised to hear so many people were still at the same company -- five years into the burn. We graduated slightly after the tech boom, so there were fewer West Coast casualties. One guy started a company called Jambo (http://www.jambo.net) which may or may not succeed because I still don't understand the business model, and another started one called Happy Wares (http://www.theezcarry.com/default.asp) and invented an ergonomically designed grip to help you carry plastic shopping bags. He made it on to QVC, which is (I'm told) the Holy Grail for inventors. Actually looks like he's already a success.
The funny thing about Ithaca is that it also brings out the latent entrepreneur in me. I've been there several times since graduation, and each time, I day dream about starting a microbrewery/ bookstore, or an adventure tour company, or a restaurant on the lake with a dock. The town is hardly the place to sustain these thoughts, although with a few million dollars coming my way in the next lottery, a house on Lake Cayuga would not be out of the question....
Day dreams must end, and work days must begin. Hope yours is a good one. NATHAN
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Nineteenth posting - Kansas
I am reading a book called What's the Matter with Kansas? How Conservatives Won the Heart of America by Thomas Frank. If you haven't heard of it, you can still probably guess that it's a full-on, liberal-slanted view of how the nation's midsection was co-opted by the Christian Right and corporate America to think and vote through morals- and values-tinted lenses, rather than through economics.
My parents used to (and still) say that people vote their pocketbooks. Good Democrats they are, but my parents -- like me -- have been sort of blindsided by what may or may not have been a conscious conservative Republican effort to put social issues into the forefront of political decisions (spun in "values" language). From the last election (the first that W won), it was amazing for me to hear so much about values and so many loaded social subjects (e.g., abortion, school vouchers, gay marriage), and such disproportionately little discussion on the economy and positive government.
One Amazon reviewer wrote of the book: "His most important point is how class resentment in Kansas (and similar states) has been turned away from economics and sidetracked into "values". This political process has a long history -- that's how fascism has always worked." The class resentment part is echoed in a series of New York Times articles on class in America. This country has always had a different and more fluid version of class than that of other parts of the world. A trap we seem to be falling into lately is that class definitions are becoming more and more material and less social. It's as if the "socio-economic indicators" are being overweighted to the "economic." The class piece doesn't worry me so much -- it's one of the great things about America that you're not born into or out of a social class -- but this class resentment through values is scary, and I'm afraid it is only getting worse. The book has its funny parts, particularly for those of you from the Midwest, and what you might consider less conservative areas of the Midwest... I highly recommend it.
On another note, a friend of mine in California, one with his finger on the pulse of great, great music, just sent me a CD that begins with one of the best theme songs from a TV show -- The Rockford Files. I played it this morning on my drive in to the office and couldn't stop smiling (http://www.timvp.com/rockford.html).
Rock on! NATHAN
My parents used to (and still) say that people vote their pocketbooks. Good Democrats they are, but my parents -- like me -- have been sort of blindsided by what may or may not have been a conscious conservative Republican effort to put social issues into the forefront of political decisions (spun in "values" language). From the last election (the first that W won), it was amazing for me to hear so much about values and so many loaded social subjects (e.g., abortion, school vouchers, gay marriage), and such disproportionately little discussion on the economy and positive government.
One Amazon reviewer wrote of the book: "His most important point is how class resentment in Kansas (and similar states) has been turned away from economics and sidetracked into "values". This political process has a long history -- that's how fascism has always worked." The class resentment part is echoed in a series of New York Times articles on class in America. This country has always had a different and more fluid version of class than that of other parts of the world. A trap we seem to be falling into lately is that class definitions are becoming more and more material and less social. It's as if the "socio-economic indicators" are being overweighted to the "economic." The class piece doesn't worry me so much -- it's one of the great things about America that you're not born into or out of a social class -- but this class resentment through values is scary, and I'm afraid it is only getting worse. The book has its funny parts, particularly for those of you from the Midwest, and what you might consider less conservative areas of the Midwest... I highly recommend it.
On another note, a friend of mine in California, one with his finger on the pulse of great, great music, just sent me a CD that begins with one of the best theme songs from a TV show -- The Rockford Files. I played it this morning on my drive in to the office and couldn't stop smiling (http://www.timvp.com/rockford.html).
Rock on! NATHAN
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Eighteenth posting - OCD
I hope everyone had a relaxing and enjoyable Memorial Day. Fortunately mine was both. I took the train to Washington and visited some college friends. From now on, I will be taking the train as much as I can: it was virtually hassle-free, the seats are comfortable, price was reasonable, and a man selling beer and wine was never more than 100 feet away.
My friends actually live in a small, tight-knit, and well left-of-center community called Glen Echo, just outside of Washington (http://www.glenecho.org/). Because the weather was great (low humidity, upper 70s), we sat on the porch a lot, shooting the proverbial breeze. Every so often, we would see a gold Infinity sedan drive by, along their short street. The driver didn't look particularly odd, although he drove slightly fast, and completed only a "rolling stop" at the stop sign.
A neighbor had pointed out that this car and driver had been spotted along the street repeatedly over the past several weeks. She also mentioned that others had seen him, and he'd followed the same route -- in one end of the neighborhood and out the other, each timing coming from and returning to the South. His trips seemed fairly regular, so I timed him. First time was 14 minutes. Second time 12 mins. Third was 14 minutes. It seemed to get a little creepy in that now we were waiting for him to come. No one wanted to stop him and ask his business, but another friend did suggest this behavior indicated Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Perhaps.
After some reconnaissance work by a journalist who lived nearby, they discovered his name (Timothy) and where he lived (Bethesda). Timothy has no criminal record, other than some violation related to an obstructed license plate, but he does have 2 homes. This was all very interesting. The police were called again, but nothing has come of it yet. If he's not dangerous, maybe he could be some unofficial village time-keeper. "What time is it?" "Timothy just drove by...must be close to two o'clock."
My friend pointed out the irony that Timothy's Obsessive Compulsive Disorder may, in fact, have created a similar disorder among the villagers, who are growing obsessed in anticipating his next trip...
Enjoy your week, especially those of you with birthdays, and don't drive too often along the same route (or the villages will start to talk). NATHAN
P.S. For you runners out there, here's a link to a site on Age Grading, a method by which you can see how your times stack up generally against others in your category. http://www.pinebeltpacers.org/AgeGrade/newwava.html Achievement levels above 60 are considered locally very strong, 70+ are regionally strong, 80+ are national, and 90+ are world class. My best 5k so far doesn't get me anything yet, although I'm close. Need to get under 20 minutes, which is a good goal in the coming weeks.
My friends actually live in a small, tight-knit, and well left-of-center community called Glen Echo, just outside of Washington (http://www.glenecho.org/). Because the weather was great (low humidity, upper 70s), we sat on the porch a lot, shooting the proverbial breeze. Every so often, we would see a gold Infinity sedan drive by, along their short street. The driver didn't look particularly odd, although he drove slightly fast, and completed only a "rolling stop" at the stop sign.
A neighbor had pointed out that this car and driver had been spotted along the street repeatedly over the past several weeks. She also mentioned that others had seen him, and he'd followed the same route -- in one end of the neighborhood and out the other, each timing coming from and returning to the South. His trips seemed fairly regular, so I timed him. First time was 14 minutes. Second time 12 mins. Third was 14 minutes. It seemed to get a little creepy in that now we were waiting for him to come. No one wanted to stop him and ask his business, but another friend did suggest this behavior indicated Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Perhaps.
After some reconnaissance work by a journalist who lived nearby, they discovered his name (Timothy) and where he lived (Bethesda). Timothy has no criminal record, other than some violation related to an obstructed license plate, but he does have 2 homes. This was all very interesting. The police were called again, but nothing has come of it yet. If he's not dangerous, maybe he could be some unofficial village time-keeper. "What time is it?" "Timothy just drove by...must be close to two o'clock."
My friend pointed out the irony that Timothy's Obsessive Compulsive Disorder may, in fact, have created a similar disorder among the villagers, who are growing obsessed in anticipating his next trip...
Enjoy your week, especially those of you with birthdays, and don't drive too often along the same route (or the villages will start to talk). NATHAN
P.S. For you runners out there, here's a link to a site on Age Grading, a method by which you can see how your times stack up generally against others in your category. http://www.pinebeltpacers.org/AgeGrade/newwava.html Achievement levels above 60 are considered locally very strong, 70+ are regionally strong, 80+ are national, and 90+ are world class. My best 5k so far doesn't get me anything yet, although I'm close. Need to get under 20 minutes, which is a good goal in the coming weeks.
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