This invitation is in 3-D. If you don't have 3-D glasses, put a book or something between your eyes and try to space out and you can sometimes do it.

Please stop by! Bring your kids and your friends! Extremely casual!
January 1st, 2009
from 1:00 in the afternoon
98 Riverside Drive


the countdown begins

I mean, if you were planning a big party in two days wouldn't you just decide that right now was the time to refinish the living room floor?


pleading stupidity

Worked for me. When I sent in my $65 parking ticket with proof I had paid the metered rate—displaying the paper receipt upside down like a total blond—they waived the fee.


tree of the wolf children

Not sure where this falls in the spectrum of environmentally desirable objects, but hey, a very merry to all!


ever everest

Had the unexpected pleasure yesterday of entertaining Russell, Himalayan mountain climber and star of Beyond the Limits, a Discovery docu about climbing Everest. Interestingly, since his clients tend to be mid-40ish financial types, he has experienced no falloff in bookings due to economic woes. If anything, business is better than ever. Next May is booked out, with 70 people on the mountain, including Sherpas and guides and the docu team and 2010 is mostly booked. Russell has moved to the Nepal side of Everest this year after difficulties with the Chinese over permits and this year's Olympic flame debacle, which forced him to cancel the expedition on the Tibet side.


the hatters

Must be the season of the guest. The hat family left today at 5 ayem and the next group arrives directly.


politically incorrect

The Bodega Christmas Carol
We actually got the words wrong. It's supposed to go
Feliz Ramadan
Feliz Ramadan
Feliz Ramadan
Prospero ano inshallah
Please sing along with the (politically in)correct words.
(BTW, Ramadan is not til next August)
(Is nothing sacred? In a word: No.)
(I don't know whether it makes it better or worse to know that this song was penned by a Fox News producer who has spent a lot of time in Iraq and Afghanistan.)


group sex

Do you want world peace? This is real important. If you want world peace, love and understanding, tomorrow is the day for ultimate bonding among all the peoples of the world. And we are planning to do that the way almost all animals on the face of the earth do it but the way that monkeys and people do it best and most, to wit: have sex.
Yes, folks, it's the Third Annual Global Orgasm for Peace!
It is pegged (!) to the winter solstice which occurs at 7:04 EST tomorrow. To find out when to climax in other areas check out the Global Orgasm website. You have a two-hour period (6 to 8 am EST) to join with the Whole World and Make Love Not War.
And remember, you can fly hetero, homo, solo or any and everything else you can think of—invite your friends!—the important thing is to get off. It's not too late! Start now! Set your alarm!

the baker street irregulars

The kids kick off E's annual party with a bit of merry merry. This is the politically correct Christmas carol of the week; tomorrow, the incorrect one.


as the snow really fell

This photo is not in black and white. Left the truck in Erin's driveway, went to Providence with Wolfen, heard from Johnny that he could not drive me, got on the train this morning and caught glimpses of the parking lot that was I-95.
One fellow traveler tried to get off the train after her plane flight to Cleveland had been cancelled (failed and got out at the next stop to reverse direction), another got word that her parents had just been in a 12-car pileup and wouldn't be able to pick her up (they were ok except that when she got out of the smashed car the mother slipped on the ice and hurt her back), and a child traveling alone from school in Boston had to meet her mother in New York rather than her father in Stamford. I would like to know how those stories turned out. But all I can tell you is that a passerby, a cute personal trainer, lugged my overheavy bag through the slush from the subway for me and at last I was home, where I will hunker down and stay—at least for the moment. Yelapa in January is looking good.


as the snow melted

We met in Woonsocket to check out the building H and C are planning to buy. They looked right at home: H on the pink couch with her iPhone with the office and C gazing out the window at the sign reading "Bienvenue a Quartier Francais." Sorry, don't know how to do the accents.


as the first snow fell

Changping made me dinner: asparagus and mushrooms, eggs and tomatoes, hong shao beef, sauteed potatoes with vinegar. And then we went to sleep to be awakened in the night by the sound of snowplows scraping the road outside. Thank fortune I had put concrete block in the back of the truck the night before. And then—but I'll tell you tomorrow. . .


familiar site

In the morning this building was on two flatbed trucks; by afternoon it was as you see it, with the rafters raised. It's a kit barn that comes precut—just match the colors and the dots and nail. Fortunately the day was extremely clement (unlike today, as the poor crew puts on the roof). Erin was on hand to cheer on the crew most of the day (and worry about trucks getting stuck in the mud), Flip left work early to check it out before dark, and Wolfen and Chris showed up unexpectedly. When they expertly began covering stacks of boards with tarps, the contractor said, "Your whole family seems to be into construction!"


game over

The jigsaw puzzle is done, the presents are wrapped and I'm headed up to watch Erin's barn get delivered—and not incidentally to get rid of the truck for the winter.


and this is different how?

December 13, 2008
From the look of your birthday chart this will be one of those all or nothing years, when you either rise to the challenges that life sends your way and emerge victorious, or give up altogether and dream wistfully of what might have been. It's up to you.



This lovely form, which was sent to me by someone who shall remain nameless but her name begins with an H for Hagridden like me thanks very much, may come in useful for some of you who, perhaps inspired by holiday excesses, long to begin exercising but simply need a chart to mark things off on to really jumpstart yourself. Feel free to use this one.


body maintenance

Yes, damn you, I am walking for half an hour or so a day. In the rain. I do the situps. I prepare healthy food. I take my vitamins. I drink plenty of water. I go to the eye doctor and the dentist. I sonic clean my teeth and floss (mostly). I get my eight hours. Oh yeah, and shower and wash my hair and slather cream all over my dry skin and get pedicures and wax and do my nails.
I just have one question: When do you have time to do anything else?


jersey christmas

You kind of wonder what these people wear when they hang out at home. Gold lame tube tops? Brocade smoking jackets? Velvet leggings? A lot of makeup? Furs in midsummer? And what kind of cars do they drive? Cadillac Escalade? Corvette? And to them I say, there's a guy who is making it snow in the Time Warner center every weekend evening. Wouldn't you like him to come to your house and make the whole thing look more seasonal? And by the way, do you need Help?

PS You have to click on the pic to see what's going on behind the fence.


exhumed treasures

Yes, I know they are creepy, but la Otra Rubia wanted me to take a picture of them, and it is her birthday today, so happy birthday to you.
We were poking through the detritus of a life—well, two lives, really, (and bringing rather more of it home than I had expected to)—the other day and I reached the conclusion that we have too much stuff. It's been said before, but you so can't take it with you. So I have vowed to deacquisition for everything I acquire. Or buy another house to put it in. . .


one reason why it's so hard to park

Sorry, I'd write more. But I have to go re-park the truck. I'll be back in a couple of hours.


international news

BORNEO A 23-year-old Malaysian man was killed on Thursday night after enraging other customers who felt that he “hogged the microphone” at what Malaysia’s Star Online described as “a coffeeshop-cum-karaoke outlet” on the island of Borneo.
Karaoke rage is not unheard of in Asia. There have been several reported cases of singers being assaulted, shot or stabbed mid-performance, usually over how songs are sung.
Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” has generated so many outbursts of hostility that some bars in the Philippines now do not offer it on the karaoke menu anymore.
In Thailand this year, a gunman shot eight people dead after tiring of their endless renditions of a John Denver tune. As The Telegraph reported in March, that maddening John Denver tune was “Country Roads.”

We'll always have Wal-Mart.

PARIS Robbers in drag get millions in Paris jewel theft. Armed robbers — some disguised as women — snatched $108 million worth of diamond rings, necklaces and luxury watches from a Harry Winston boutique on a posh Paris avenue in one of the largest jewel heists in history, officials said Friday. The gang of three or four robbers threatened about 15 employees with handguns and hit some on the head before taking the jewels from display cases from the store near the Champs-Elysees.
A security monitoring group for the French jewelry industry has reported a 20 percent rise in armed robberies this year over last, with 132 incidents in the first 11 months of 2008. In London, police have reported a recent rise in holdups of security vans. Police say it could be linked to the credit crunch and predict the trend to continue as Christmas approaches.

And a very merry to all, darling.

MEXICO Besides the two camels spotted near the border, Mexico has seen a rash of escaped animals lately, including four tigers, a 500-pound lion and a five-ton elephant.

Drug lords' target practice.


huntin' season

The following are articles from the West Plains Daily Quill

Youngsters invited to squirrel hunting clinic
The Mo. Department of Conservation will offer a squirrel hunting clinic beginning at 7:30 a.m. Saturday. It will be free-of-charge and open to youngsters ages 11 to 15 who are hunter-education certified and accompanied by an adult. After a 30-minute orientation, the youngsters and accompanying adult will go to an assigned area to hunt until 10:30 a.m.
A lunch of hot dogs and trimmings will be served at noon, along with a couple of squirrel dishes prepared for sampling.

Trimmings? Um, I don't know, but the favorite squirrel dish I've heard about in the Ozarks is deep fried squirrel brains.

Editorial by Frank Martin
. . .Since you will have lots of time to think, consider why some of the other hunters wear camouflage long johns, camouflage watch bands, and carry camouflage hankies and cigarette lighters. Do they really think deer will see them in their underwear or tell time by their watch? And which is more likely, that they want to look as if they just stepped from the pages of a Cabela’s catalog or that their wives are hard-put to find them Christmas gifts?

Maybe the squirrel hunters should have a fashion clinic, too.


not about sex

How likely is your marriage to break up? Find out now using the divorce calculator, which uses statistics, not including how many times you have sex per month (although that question is asked in other places on the site) to figure out actuarially and demographically the percentage of couples like you who won't make the long haul. And honey, it can get long.
And speaking of couples who don't have enough sex, check out these cels from a new book based on the strip Dykes to Watch Out For, which is freaking funny.

In Azu nuz, check out an interview about sustainable jewelry with the CEO of Azu, and definitely check out the new guitar bracelet site at Wear Your Music.


how retirees spend their time

Aarp "Road 'N Tow" Motoring Plan
Claims Department
Dear Sir or Madam,
On November 23, 2008, I got my pickup stuck in an icy driveway in Pennsylvania. It was Sunday and dusk, and there was no cellphone reception. I borrowed a neighbor’s phone and called my Road 'N' Tow service. They were unable to find anyone in my area to help me. I thought the whole point of a towing service was to find someone to help you in an emergency. After a great deal of difficulty, I was able to find someone to help me. It was quite costly, though, and the driver would only accept cash.
I am enclosing the receipt from the towing service for $250. Please remit.
This happened more than a week ago, and I am still mad. This is not the first time I have been unhappy with the coverage of your service. Please send me my $250 and cancel my AARP Motoring Plan membership as of January 1, 2009. That will give me enough time to sign up for AAA.

Parking Violations Hearing By Mail
Dear Sir or Madam,
I was cited on December 1 for not displaying a muni meter receipt.
I did have a muni meter receipt. The receipt says "Display on Driver's Side of Dashboard." As you can see from the photo below, I did that. Unfortunately I displayed it upside down.
I had, however, paid the parking fee. My citation was issued at 09:21 am and my receipt was good until 10:12 am (see photo). I don't think I should have to pay this fine, since I did pay the parking fee.
Thank you.

I hope that about wraps it up for the year.

hot pink child in the city

My nice nieces might have felt a little confined in a New York apartment over the eating ceremony vacation, but they had no difficulty adjusting to the park. Meanwhile, my sister and her husband found out that they had finally gotten permission to build their green house in Mass. You can read all about it on Erin's blog (link at right). Today they begin digging the foundation hole for the actual house. Mazel tov!


diamonds and dust

Just in case, due to the excitements of Thanksgiving, you missed these photographs of the emporium of Catherine Andrews of Madison, Georgia, in the New York Times Escapes section last Friday, I am running them here. I see no reason not to mention that she once planned to call the place Weasel World before going the more dignified route. Especially since there is taxidermy in the place, which, according to Bergdorf's Christmas windows is so this season. Ms. Andrews carries many carefully edited, eclectic items from riding boots to Waterford, as well as being herself a diamond of the first water (not yet an antique, let's just call her "well loved," and, no, I don't know whether she's for sale!) Hurry—the fox sold the day the article came out. So y'all come on down! And if y'all can't, y'all call!


black friday

The Thanksgiving weekenders practice up for Williamsburg at the spectacle store.


the aftermath

So there was this chocolate pie, see, and it was covered with slippery whipped cream, and the crust was kind of hard, and, like, it just jumped off the plate, ricocheted off two people and, like, landed crushed on their feet. . .


american eating ceremony 2008

Another production concluded—or almost, there is still a LOT of pie.
In other Thanksgiving news, check out Madison's video of the event and Sam's disgusting what can you make with a turkey jello mold. And especially note picture of Barrett in her store in the New York Times slide show today.


santa has a pop

"I know what a blogger does when they don't have anything to say," says a friend (you know who you are).
"What?" I ask.
"They post a picture," he says.


guess who's coming to dinner

It's that time of year again, when in an inclusive spirit of Thanksgiving we attempt diversity—in nationality, religion or lack thereof, age and whatever else we can think of—and fall well short of the mark. This year, as a matter of fact, is piss poor.

Smokers 5
Ex-smokers 2
Dillitant smokers 1
People who have never smoked (yet, so far as I know) 15
HINT: If you add the foregoing, you can get the total.
People who have never eaten turkey 1
People I have never met 2
People who live on the Upper White Side 9 known
People from the Bronx 2
People from Queens 1
People from the West Coast 2
People from Massachusetts 5
LBGT 2 (known)
Chinese 1 and two halfs
Taiwanese 1 (or else)
Latinas 1
Fans of Hannah Montana 1
People named after rock stars 2
Scientists 1
Engineers 1
Shrinks 1
People with full-time jobs 8
Grandmothers 3
Twins 2 (not sets, individuals)
Newlyweds 2 (one couple)
People buying houses 3
People building houses 4
People living in apartments 23—all, I think

What categories can you think of?


the journey begins

The pitchfork was buried underneath the old Victrola, the exercise bicycle, the chipper/shredder, the lawn mower, a couple chairs (natch), four snow shovels and I don't know what all else, but that devil had us going all over New Jersey and as far away as Pennsylvania distributing various things at various of his houses. And then I got the truck stuck on some snowy grass and had to be towed up the driveway--just like the last time I visited that house--in the almost dark by a man who wanted $175 in cash because my Road 'n' Tow service simply didn't "have anyone in your area" and then. . . But then we did have fun, and there wasn't anyone around to say I told you so but ourselves. And we didn't engage in mutual recriminations.


ok, so we don't go to church either

What Happy People Don’t Do
NYT November 19, 2008 Happy people spend a lot of time socializing, going to church and reading newspapers — but they don’t spend a lot of time watching television, a new study finds.
That’s what unhappy people do.
Although people who describe themselves as happy enjoy watching television, it turns out to be the single activity they engage in less often than unhappy people, said John Robinson, a professor of sociology at the University of Maryland and the author of the study, which appeared in the journal Social Indicators Research.

I'm happy. Are you happy?



The LIFE photo collection is going up on the web and the photo world is in an uproar. This means that you can search this site for thousands of LIFE photos through the 1970s (yes, including Woodstock). We're talking Cartier-Bresson, Robert Capa (those two are making Magnum see red) and most of the FSA photographers like Dorothea Lange (who took this and another better known frame of the woman above during the Depression—or should I say, the last depression).
I can only say: GO BOBBY BAKER!


unsafe at any speed

No, not the Corvair. These guys!

Man Nabbed After Hitting Girlfriend With Sandwich
PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla. (AP) -- A man faces a domestic battery charge after allegedly hitting his girlfriend with a sandwich as she was driving on Interstate 95 on Friday. Police said the 19-year-old man became angry and hit the woman in the arm and face with a sandwich, knocking her glasses off.
The victim nearly lost control of the car because she couldn't see the road and the man then allegedly ripped off the rear-view mirror and used it to shatter the windshield.
The man was freed on $7,500 bail.
Police haven't said what type of sandwich was involved.

Driver Loses Control After Sneeze, Hits River
BOSTON (AP) -- An untimely sneeze nearly cost Andrew Hanson his life. The 42-year-old Weymouth man told authorities that a sneeze caused him to lose control of his pickup on Soldiers Field Road and plunge into Boston's Charles River on Tuesday.
Hanson was able to wade to shore after escaping from the truck, which was partially submerged in 4 feet of water. He was not seriously injured but was taken to a hospital as a precaution.
Lawrence Callahan of the Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation said Hanson told him that after he sneezed, ''the next thing he knew he was in the river.''

Orbin Dale May in Proffitt Center
West Plains, Mo. (Quill) Orbin Dale May, 66, West Plains, will spend one year and a day in federal prison [for] a conspiracy to provide fraudulent commercial driver’s licenses to large numbers of Somali and Bosnian nationals while he was an employee of the now-defunct West Plains R-7 School District’s South Central Career Center (SCCC) truck driver training school.
Co-defendant and former director of the truck driver training school, Dean P. Proffitt, 74, West Plains, pleaded guilty. May admitted that he fraudulently certified that applicants had legitimately passed the driving tests. A commercial driver’s license allows a person to operate heavy commercial trucks – such as 18-wheel tractors and trailers – and buses on the public highways.

On the road again, we're on the road again. . .


google me, baby

Most of the people who read this blog are known to me intimately, but there are some exceptions. Notably, the people searching Block Island Honeymoon. And already today someone from Australia has googled how do you pronounce cai guo quiang, for instance. Later today several people will likely google the three meaningful words "John Deere cake" and wind up here. They read no further, having presumably either found or not found what they want.
And yes, that is me with the coffee with my boyfriend (yes, we are still friends though I am fat and he is bald) and his siblings and friend in Waimea Valley, Hawaii in, um, 1973, when I was three yours younger than Wolfen.
We won't mention how much younger than Chris G. I was—will we, Chris.


time to revise the definition

"The traditional way delusion is defined under the diagnostic guidelines of the American Psychiatric Association [is] that if a belief is held by a person’s “culture or subculture,” it is not a delusion. The exception accounts for rituals of religious faith, for example."
—Seen in the New York Times a couple days before the story of the minister who told a parishoner to leave a rotting corpse on the toilet of her house until it was resurrected. Here is the link to the Times story.


the future of newspapers

So accustomed to the hands-free version have I become, that this is how I read the one actual paper I buy a week.


son et lumiere

The artist Chang is now moving into sound as well as light. Here he practices his new equipment as Ed tells us exactly how the world is going to go to shit (one third of restaurants in New York to close next year), then retreats to the known, a photograph of the view from 98.
Speaking of the world going to shit, I found a Popular Mechanics list of 100 skills every handy man should know and learned from this that I am no man. Even if I kind of fiddle the truth I am no more than 50 percent. This becomes important because one of our readers has cooked up a plan whereby she puts her house on the market and we sign up as a caretaking couple with this agency for rich people with too much property, a category (the latter anyway) that we know whereof. Call it Plan C. It has to be Plan C because I'm not sure either of us has the subservience chip. Nor am I sure that the family advertising for a couple would be as forward-thinking in their own homes as, say, Connecticut. Still, it's an option better than the poorhouse.
Repeat after me, "Yes, Madam."


little ol' me

Lately, I have been getting complaints that I am intimidating, harsh, arch, a pain-in-the-ass know-it-all old fart. Mea culpa. I can't seem to stop myself from blurting out whatever I think, no matter how painful to the blurtee.
I promise to try to do better. (Knowing that it's highly unlikely I will succeed. But really, I am going to try.)
In the mean time, if you start feeling somehow intimidated, try to think of me as the smaller person in this picture, someone you could easily stomp (if her dad would let you).


yes we have bananas

Dada sends in this image of someone who travels with more bananas in the truck than I do.
And speaking of the truck, it has been in the same parking space on the street since Saturday, thanks to Veteren's Day. I have to move it tomorrow. I am ready to unload it for the winter. A vehicle in this town--especially a large one--is just crazy.


there's always missouri

Is your livelihood threatened? If you are an aging journalist (or really any paid print journalist), the answer is yes. With consumers on strike, even niche publications are laboring to find advertising, and the web has yet to find a way to pay for professional journalism. Every blogger's a writer or photographer now, with no need for that darned objectivity.
So most people I know are talking about Plan B: sublets, roommates, communes, bankruptcy, self-employment, new careers, family support. One of my former colleagues was even wishing that there was still such a thing as debtor's prison—"At least they'd have to feed you," she sighed.
Maybe they're too young to remember the Mother Earth News movement in the early 70s that sent urban hoards back-to-the-land in the Ozarks. Some of them are still there, with their hunting and garden truck, their composting toilets and off-the-grid electrical systems. I'm buying a piece for pennies, and there's enough room on the lot for a couple doublewides.


moonrise over magic city

Never has the New Jersey Turnpike looked so fabulous as on a fall afternoon with the moon coming up big and pale if not yet full.


or flip a coin

Now you can find out whether your favorite bloggers are male or female! Check here!


splendid cynosure

To me, the word cynosure occurs in the phrase "the cynosure of all eyes," meaning the center of attraction. Perhaps all the rest of you know it as laser hair removal.
In any case, as we were having our election, a different kind of transfer of power was not-so-quietly going on in Taiwan. But as we were the cynosure of international attention, maybe you didn't notice. In their last election, Taiwanese voted for a president who would bring them closer to mainland China. This week, a Chinese negotiator came to Taiwan to make direct Taiwan-China flights and cargo shipping routine. There were protests. Policemen, journalists and protesters were hurt. This time, we didn't have to endure that.


from sea to shining

The deserted State Beach, as I saw it before leaving for the season. Now it's time for bright lights, late nights and a whole new life. Like maybe I better get a job. What should I do?


yes we did

About midday yesterday, Wolfen forwarded me the following e-mail from a friend in New York. I have taken the liberty of lightly editing it and presenting it here.

I was up early this morning, too excited to sleep. I knew there'd be long lines at the polls, but the day is mild and sunny in NYC and it was a short walk to the 4th street and Ave A polling location. After pulling the lever, I let out a "Yeah baby!" and left the booth with a big smile on my face, beaming with the confidence that Obama would win, and send an overdue message that the Bush years were at long last over.
But as I was leaving, an elderly black woman, dressed in her Sunday best, was being helped to the door in tears. My first instinct was concern that something had happened, that perhaps she was injured or ill or had not been allowed to vote. But as we negotiated our way past the line of incoming voters, she recognized a friend, an elderly black man, dressed in a sport coat and tie. As he opened his arms to her I saw that he was choking up, too. As they embraced I heard her say "I never imagined I'd see this day," and I finally understood. She was weeping for sheer joy that a young, brilliant, respected man of color was on the ballot—one who was favored to win.
I imagined what it must’ve been like to be a black American before the civil rights movement. The segregation, the drinking fountains, the open hatred, Rosa Parks, bloody Sunday, the marches, Dr. King’s rise and assassination. . .
And in this moment, I saw the varied New York faces standing around these two lovely people, smiling with tears in their eyes, too. We were all moved. We were all feeling the magnitude of the day. We all forgot about the sometime stupidity of this long campaign. Because this campaign paled in comparison to the campaign that these two old friends, and the countless other Americans—white and black and brown and yellow—have waged awaiting this event. Sure I want Obama to win, but in many ways, regardless of the outcome, he already has. And so have we.
There is a famous political cartoon from the early 60s of two small children, one white, one black, in which the black child is saying to the other “I’ll sell you my chance of becoming President for a nickel.” Today, our country laid that sad sentiment to rest, forever.
And yes, I cried all the way home.

with love,


for beautiful

. . .for spacious skies, for amber waves of—phragmites? Anyway, vote.


goin' home

Voting booth bound. Gotta catch a boat.



We were driving around in the Bedazzling Halloween Lunamobile when we spotted a Horsemanless Horse Meandering down the Middle of the Road Past the Cemetary near Midnight—guided by who knows what Phantom Whiphand. Afraid that Tricksy Teenagers, foiled in their plot to TP the Churchyard (you know who you are!), might run into the Gallumphing Ghost Horse, we attempted to track down its Owner at the Cop Shop. The Animal was not best pleased by the Lunamobile, nor our Attempts to catch it. It Spooked and took off at a Trot when its Rightful Owner attempted to herd it in his Pickup, and when last seen the Night Mare had taken a Dark Dirt Road in the Opposite Direction from the Home Farm.



Looks like I'm hatching an egg, huh? What do you think is inside it besides winter, Pluto entering Capricorn and the Wiccan new year, Samhain? What are your resolutions on this eve of the Day of the Dead?


the moody sky

You never know when you're going to be marooned.


and then there were—six?

On the heels of news that the Christian Science Monitor was going to be available on the Internet only, I read last night that Time Inc was cutting 600 jobs. I proceeded to sleep very poorly, waking to howling winds and dreaming of working at Time Inc. I was looking for a computer at Life, hounding researchers at People, considering taking a job at a People spinoff that reviewed Broadway plays—based in Taipei, no less, and captained by Burgheim. When I woke up I was so grateful that I had left Time Inc. when it was still kinda Time Inc. and before the paring down of the skills and brains and feeling of mission reached its inevitable end. And I feel awful for my handful of friends who are still there.


last rose of summer

Yesterday a back porch, gin-and-tonic, surfin', puttin'-the-lawn mower-to-bed-for-the-season kind of day. Today, the wind and rain are trying to obliterate all memory of summer.



Yeah, so I left the city for the island. I am now ensconced—cleaning screens in the sun, catching up with friends and relations, reading trashy novels and being lulled to sleep by some of the best surf ever. And warming my house with The Third Highest Electrical Bills in the Nation. But not for long. My island electricity, I mean.


back to the island

Taking the train to the bus to the boat this morning in hopes that the island will look like this picture by Kate Knapp when I get there for one last week rather than what the weather report predicts. Is that English?