Tuesday, April 30, 2013

a little bit of culture


Corinne and I are meeting at the Met.  When I weigh looking stylish against being comfortable, the latter usually wins.  I wear sneakers. 

We see the exhibit called Impressionism, Fashion and Modernity.  I’m glad I wasn’t dressing in the late 1800’s; wearing corsets and crinoline under skirts couldn’t have been too comfortable.  And I’d have to guess that whatever was worn on a woman’s foot, wasn’t as comfortable as my Nikes.

We like the exhibit, but the highlight for both of us is watching an hour video called Street.  It’s best described by the New York Times:

The 61-minute video consists entirely of long, slow-motion pans of people going about their business on the sidewalks and streets of New York City. Mr. Nares used a type of high-speed camera typically trained on subjects like hummingbirds and bullets. Shooting from a moving S.U.V., he recorded scenes in segments of six seconds, the longest stretch for which the camera can record while maintaining high resolution. He edited down 16 hours of recordings to around three minutes — that is, the running time if the video were to be shown at normal speed. Extended to over an hour, the video is a hypnotic, continuous flow of imagery.

While watching it, Corinne and I try to guess the neighborhoods.  The people and their attire provide unmistakable clues to location.  There are distinct differences in the people that pass through the various neighborhoods of New York.

I always find myself exhausted after a museum visit.  Maybe it’s the intense concentration.  The lack of windows.  Or the desire to absorb what I am  seeing and reading.  While Corinne stops at the ladies room, I use my iPhone to take this photo of a father and daughter, spent after a day museuming.


Monday, April 29, 2013

a good, nothing day


I was at a dinner recently when someone at the table posed the question, “So, what do you do all day?”  She happens to be a Professor at Columbia and her curiosity was genuine.  If I were honest, and if the question were posed for today, I would truthfully answer, nothing.

Here’s my day.

8:00am: 
*    Get up, turn the coffee machine on (the coffee and water were added last night).
*    M doesn’t call; she is on a plane to Paris.

9:00am
*    See Mike, the handyman, so he can re-teach me how to use my fancy Rosle can opener.  Yesterday, Mike was off and I couldn’t figure out how the can opener works.  I’ve had it about a year.
*    Contemplate walking two miles to Costco then reject the idea because I see people walking with umbrellas.

9:30 to 2:00pm
*    Answer emails.
*    Talk to friends.
*    Look online for jobs, then eliminate myself before the reviewer has a chance to.
*    Add linkedin connections.
*    Have tuna fish for lunch, now that I can open the can.

2:30 to 4:00pm
*    Get legs waxed (to be fair to Robert; I am seeing him later).
*    Call regarding volunteering; my call is not returned.
*    Play WWF’s.  It is my turn in 15 games.  I am a good player; many of my friends are better.
*    Order and receive 3 sushi rolls from the $11.50 lunch menu at Ging’s.
*    Soak in bubble bath (again, in preparation for Robert), while reading Truth in Advertising, an entertaining novel by John Kenney.

4:30 to 5:30pm
*    Go to Val E! Salon and lie on a table while Robert rubs oil all over my body and massages out my stress.

6:00 to 7:00pm
*    More phone calls.
*    More emails.
*    More WWF games.
*    Brian Williams.

7:30pm on
*    Sushi dinner (3-roll lunch special).
*    More John Kenney.
*    Some DVR’ed shows.

So yes, today is what I’d call a nothing day.  But I speak to Alexander and he makes me laugh.  I connect with friends and family and they are well.  I live in a city I love.  And I am free and healthy.

So while it may be a nothing day, it’s a good one nonetheless.

the ideal college calling plan


Alexander calls last night.  “My phone broke.  The screen doesn’t work.  I can’t see texts.  I can’t dial out.  I can’t see who’s called.  Thankfully I have Suri.”  This is his second iPhone; the first one was replaced in December when the last one broke.

I ask my son how I can reach him.  “I guess if I feel the phone vibrating, I’ll pick up.  Otherwise, I won’t know you called.”  I’m sure this revelation bothers him.

Lately I’ve been getting tons of calls from people trying to interest me in getting an online education.  I have no idea how I could possibly have gotten on this list.  Now I only answer calls when I recognize the number.  Today I see a call from 760-705-8888.  I don’t answer it. 

Then my cell rings showing the same number.  Hmmm.  These unsolicited callers surely could not have my cell number.  I pick up.  It’s Alexander.  He explains he is calling from his computer.  Something about Google Voice.  The connection is perfect; no static at all.  I say to him, “Wow.  This sounds great.  Can I call you on this number?”   “No.  I can just call you.”  There is a slight pause and then he adds, “Hey this is perfect.”

For him, maybe, but not for me.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

almost 18 years ago


When Alexander was two, he was fascinated with big trucks.  His favorite video was one called Big Rigs.  It was a VHS tape of atrocious quality.  Real truck drivers spoke to the camera about their big vehicles and why they liked them.  The tape even included a female truck driver.

Alexander loved this tape.  He preferred it to all the professionally produced Disney and Sesame Street ones.  And every single time he watched it, which was often, he would cry at the end.  This, despite promises he wouldn’t.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh1tS3LU7_c

I speak to Alexander today.  He is thinking of moving into an apartment next year.  He will soon be a college junior. Hard to believe time can go by so quickly, yet it does, and  things change.   Alexander no longer cries at the end of videos.   He grew up with no desire to be a truck driver.  And he would never wear a tie-dyed matching outfit.