Best a Day of Independence

The Fourth of July, Two thousand and Nine. My first Saturday independent from the workplace in ages. I celebrated by rising and going out into my Upper Western sided neighborhood. I'd heard a rumor that the uptown Shake Shack would be serving corndogs this day. The rumor proved to be patently untrue.

So I did what I expected I would, traveled downtown for a long longed-for breakfast. There is no way you could possibly guess where I had this. (Hint: I opted for the biscuits and gravy and scrambled eggs that I had been craving over the day's special, a sweetbreads McMuffin.)

Morning hunger taken care of, I proceeded to do what I do naturally when time is mine: wander the Eastern and Western villages.

At around Broadway and 10th or 11th you can find these school projects:








Union Square, Farmer's Market in effect.

Washington Square, the fountain was happening. Lots of little jazz trios and quartets battling for attention and change.

Over on MacDougal I discovered they tore down the building where the Law School paper office (a.k.a. my home away from home away from home during those years) was. What will be built in its place? A new building to be shared by the Law School and Theatre School. Of course. I suppose this is the sort of thing I'd know about if I read Alumnus publications more closely.


INSERT HERE: A gap of many hours mostly spent in a wonderful nap and involved in a half dozen gchats and phonecalls centered on one topic: No one knew what to do for the 4th and has hoping someone had an idea. The fireworks were to be launched this year over the Hudson River between the high twenties and the fifties (as opposed to the usual East River show) and this had everyone feeling confused and clueless.

But by 7'ish we had met on 23rd street and headed for the river.

I noticed a trend amongst my fair company...


When in Rome!

The masses, we headed for the sun.

Staking out a spot on the West Side highway.

A favorite.

Collin brushed those pesky helicopters right out of Hillary's hair.

That's me. Figured I should show up for this post. I was too much the absent presence until now, correct? I have a horrible cold but a summertime shirt.

Environs.

Turns out, totally coincidentally, that we had sat ourselves down on the highway right by where Di and her friends had sat down...when we arrived, only the friends of Di's that were strangers to us were there, so it was a surprise, a total surprise.

Di and Traci and others had been involved in a covert and clever operation: grilling hotdogs at the end of a nearby alley. Ingenious. American ingenuity, really.

The darkening...




Night falls, final touches of grooming attended to before the celebration of our nation

Ka-BlAmmO! Obligatory fireworks photos to show it happened, to prove we were there.



Injured gravely, carried by a friend.

Nearby, after a lot of yelling by me into several different cellular phones, Jared and Laura were found. Patriots all.

And now, these pictures are for you and your heart:



A city aflame with pride. For our nation.

Best Thing I Heard at Work Last Week

When, during the post-firedrill briefing, we were told "This building is fully sprinkled."

Delicious.

Best I'm Serious

Name a month and a year and I'll tell you what I was having for lunch in those days.

Seriously.

Best It Must Have Been Love Because This Breaks My Heart

Moving out of my old apartment was just about the saddest thing to happen to me in New York. I haven't taken much time to dwell on it as I've been too caught up in the excitement of my vagabond lifestyle, but I know there's definitely a part of me, not too deep inside, that fully believes that any day now it'll just walk right back into the John Adams and on home to old 15B.

That part of me, the 10011 part, was delt a savage blow today when I learned that Joe Jr.'s, my old across-the-street diner, lost its lease and is shutting down this weekend.

photos via Eater

It's just a terrible thing to have happen to the spirit of the neighborhood to which I'm still endeared, no matter where I'm laying my head for the month. I know that not everyone who ever ate there had the best meal, but it was a fixture and it worked for me...a place for an early meal with visitors, coming of going, the place where I unwisely had the Lumberjack Breakfast before beginning my Trademarks take home final, the place where I watched the gruff lady packing gratis dinners for the neighborhood's homeless at night, the place where I eavesdropped on some of the most ridiculous conversations I've ever heard in New York while eating what had become my latenight comfort staple: a BLT with a split pea soup. One night I sat there taking in a trio of identically dressed and coiffed sinister New Jersey meat heads who had parked their drophead Bentley right in front, a few times I passed by to see Steve Forbes sitting in a front window seat. One time I went there the fellows and Duane impressed the gruff waitress by telling her in Greek that he had lived in Greece as a missionary, the result: a whipped cream dessert on the house.

I must have become a "real New Yorker" at some point because here I am, bemoaning the transformation of "my" neighborhood, looking back on the way things used to be. So many remember whens, they just pile up one after the other.

Perhaps the neighborhood will save it, who knows. Continuing coverage available at Eater.

Best Suddenly So Interesting

Frank Lloyd Wright. The Guggenheim Museum. What do they have in common? Frank Lloyd Wright designed the Guggenheim Museum. Okay, we know that. But another thing they have in common is that I thought they were both neat, but was feeling over both of them. You see, I'm from Oak Park, that's where Wright had his home and studio, living in Oak Park you see a lot of Frank Lloyd Wright houses, you hear a lot of Frank Lloyd Wright talk, you show your visitors a few of the houses, you feel some pride...but, yawn, you know? A little over it. Nice houses, yes. Let's move on. Same with the Guggenheim: truly iconic, extremely photographical. Pretty much impossible to walk by it without taking a picture. You visit it, you walk up the windy ramp, you take a ton of pictures from the main floor...but, yawn, you know? Pretty over it. It's something to see but how many times can you see it? And if you want me to go inside, it better have something pretty cool inside, right?

Well, let me tell you something: Now I'm totally about Frank Lloyd Wright and I'm totally about the Guggenheim. There's this new exhibit there called "Frank Lloyd Wright: From Within Outward", an exhaustingly exhaustive exhibition on Wright featuring his designs, new models based on those designs, old models based on those designs, and totally unexpected things like a theater curtain he designed. I guess what I was sick of, re:FLW, was seeing his houses and being told who they were built for and when they were built. But what it turns out I've got near boundless energy for is looking at his drawing and designs. And the drawings of houses of his that I was well familiar with was good and well, but my favorite things to see were projects of his that never got built.

Such As:

• The Donahoe Triptich (there were more and better pictures at the show)
• The Automobile Objective and Planetarium
• This apartment building that was going to be on St Marks Place

etc., etc., it goes on and on, check it out for yourself. Some of the designs were so magnificently not entirely of this world that I thought it a terrible shame that Wright and Tolkien (or Lucas) never got to work together.


As you reach the top of the Guggenheim you finally get to the history of the construction of the museum and by then it's exciting. The very last thing in the exhibit is a bit of wall text with a picture of Frank Lloyd Wright inside the Guggenheim looking it over while it's under construction and looking at that picture I realized, "Wow. Wait. That picture was taken right where I stand." Suddenly, after looking at his work all afternoon, it's you and him on top of the museum. To me, this was striking.

This exhibit will wear you out (it might as well be Epcot there's so much to see) but I give it a major thumbs up.

Best Last MJ Post

Well, Monday was Wear White Socks for the King of Pop Day and as far as I know, it was an enormous success. Here I have gathered all the photographic evidence of participants I've received thusfar. If you participated and have got a picture I'd love to see it.

Your Honor Guard:

Me in NYC.

Mitch in London. First submission of the day.

Niall in London.

Jeff Butler in NYC, first domestic submission.

Cher, probably in Newark.

Amber, in like Queens or something. I'm not sure. Update: Turns out it was Loma Linda.

Greg in Oak Park.

And Meredith in Dubai. That's right, Dubai. White Socks for the King of Pop was an international sensation of epic proportions.

Best 2nd to Last MJ Post

Okay, all that's left after this one are pictures from Wear White Socks for the King of Pop Day...if you've got any, please submit because I have a nice handful, but the more the merrier, right?

Anyway.

By now, I really really hope you've all seen this London Craigslist posting:

Naturally, I responded telling the poster that I was very interested in the tickets and that seeing this show would be an absolute dream come true. I never heard back from him, he probably sold those tickets right away.

Fortunately for me, there were plenty of other tickets posted for sale from earlier on Thursday or previous days. I wrote a couple of these people, obliviously telling them the same thing: I was very interested in their tickets and that seeing Michael Jackson in concert would be an absolute dream come true. These are the responses that I got:

Attempts to continue negotiations were unsuccessful.

And if you think I'm bad for having emailed these people, just think about this: someone stole my Odwalla fruit drink that I bought yesterday to have for breakfast today. Karma? I'll never involve myself in internet chicanery again.

Best Beginning of the Day Status Update

Wear White Socks for the King of Pop Day is here. I've already received my first photo of white socks (from across the sea, too!) and I've got mine on here in the office. Looks like this celebration is already nearly a complete success.

Best Maritime Mystery: Solved.

FIRST of all, Don't forget that it's Wear White Socks for the King of Pop Day. If you're so inclined, wear white socks to work in honor of MJ. Bonus points if you post a picture or email me one.

Moving on...

I don't have a window at work but out in the hall the views are pretty excellent, I'm way downtown and up higher than anything around so you can see out onto the river, to Jersey, and beyond.

This week there was a gigantic yacht anchored near Ellis Island. It stayed there for several days, it was driving me nuts, just sitting there in the middle of everything, being absolutely gigantic. The Ellis Island/Liberty Island ferries all passed by it real close, like tiny fish investigating a docile whale. I began wondering if this boat was something special or if gigantic yachts were always out there in the river, I just never noticed.


A little research revealed the following: The yacht is "Le Grand Bleu." It was built in 2000 and is 370 feet long and it's on its second billionaire Russian owner. For a nice up close shot check this out. Honestly, that picture doesn't really do it justice, it really stood out from 35 stories in the air and at least a half-mile away. It seemed to be two or three times as tall as the double-decker Island Ferries. It was something but I hope it's gone when I get in this morning. Too much of a distraction, too much to worry about.

But what our billionaire friend is up to doesn't seem like such a bad vacation: have your yacht sailed across the Atlantic, park it off Manhattan, take the speedboat into the island for the day, come home and spend the evening on your waterbound palace. I'd do it, and I suffer a bit of boatphobia. (Well, except for that one time)

Best Etymology of Meteorology

Judging from time spent on my way to work, if you need a definition of "perfect summer day" look up "today" in the dictionary. Man. Wow.

Also, the borders of the WTC site are filled with absolute vampires and plenty of visitors from Spain and Akron sticking their necks out.

And did you know we've got crossing guards down here, too? In yellow vests. But the crossing guard I honor is an aggressive cab or barreling delivery truck.

Best I'm Starting a Sensation to Spread Through the World

MONDAY!!: Wear White Socks for the King of Pop!

I wish I had thought of this yesterday but instead I thought of it today. Anyway, if you wish to honor MJ (and you think it's still timely) wear White Socks to work (or wherever it is you go) on Monday! They'll probably look best with a darker, shorter, tighter pair of pants.

AND if you do, please send a picture.

Best I Know a Bargain When I See One

Am I right or am I right?

So, where were you when you heard Michael Jackson died?

There are going to be so many crazy stories coming out soon.

Best I Do as I'm Told

Andrew had a talk with me a few months ago. He told me he was disappointed in me, he told me that I should be eating more American food and less Tacos and Momofuku food. This is a post to show him and you that, yes, I eat American.

First off, what's more American than a hot dog? (and also: do I look at all like I've been working like a dragon lately?)


I'll tell you what's more American than a hotdog...having that hot dog with Keri (who we haven't seen since this best post ever from three years ago) and meeting her husband Keith. If you were wondering if Keith was cool, just look closely: first trip ever to the Shake Shack and he's having a double stack with the deepfried, cheesefilled portobello mushroom on it. Case Closed.

Also last week I had dinner at this new place in Williamsburg called the Brooklyn Star. It's a southern-style restaurant run by one of the original partners at Momofuku. So, yes, that was what drew me to this American meal.

But what will bring me back is their Countryfried Steak. Enormous. Delicious.

Shrimp and grits and fried eggs? Why not.

Also very good: their Dr. Pepper Ribs appetizer and strawberries deepfried in cornbread dessert.

And the Brooklyn Star isn't too far from the Barcade, and what's more American than than old arcade games? OR falling in love with Gauntlet and digging crazily for a few more quarters?

But, listen, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been Momofukuin'. Since the Bo Ssam I've been there a few times...uhm, maybe Noodle Bar 3 times and Ssam twice?

Something worth reporting is the Noodle Bar now features $20 three course lunches and $30 four course dinners. The selections vary daily and nearly never repeat and, qualitywise, are an enormous bargain--practically half the price of what it could cost to order these meals a la carte.

I've had the lunch once, they started me off with a radish and anchovie paste amuse boche.

Followed by raw scallops in bacon dashi.

Then a very decent little hanger steak with spicy greens, Japanese mushrooms, and beef jus.




The final course is a cup or cone of softserve. Presently the Noodle Bar features rhubarb and shortcake flavored softserves, ideally served in a twist. The rhubarb is good but the shortcake is SERIOUSLY delicious. Favorite Momofuku ice cream yet. No. Tied with the old snickerdoodle.

One drawback to the new meal-centric menu is the noodle bar has scaled back the rest of the menu. Most problematic is they rotate their old noodle bar bowl dishes, so you never know if the kimchi stew or cold spicy noodles or what will be on the menu. Straight up pork and chicken ramen are long gone, but the one with two types of pork and a poached egg is always on the menu.

Best Ebert Has Done It Again, Again: the Follow Up

This morning only first paragraph of his Transformers review was online. Now the whole thing is available. If only there were more movies as good as the last paragraph of the review:

Aware that this movie opened in England seven hours before Chicago time and the morning papers would be on the streets, after writing the above I looked up the first reviews as a reality check. I was reassured: "Like watching paint dry while getting hit over the head with a frying pan!" (Bradshaw, Guardian); "Sums up everything that is most tedious, crass and despicable about modern Hollywood!" (Tookey, Daily Mail); "A giant, lumbering idiot of a movie!" (Edwards, Daily Mirror). The first American review, however, reported that it "feels destined to be the biggest movie of all time" (Todd Gilchrist, Cinematical). It’s certainly the biggest something of all time.

Could it be possible that Transformer: Revenge of the Fallen will bring 99% of the world together in agreeance on at least one thing?

Best Ebert Has Done It Again, Again

His review of Transformers 2:

"Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" (PG-13, 149 minutes). A horrible experience of unbearable length, briefly punctuated by three or four amusing moments. One of these involves a dog-like robot humping the leg of the heroine. If you want to save yourself the ticket price, go into the kitchen, cue up a male choir singing the music of hell, and get a kid to start banging pots and pans together. Then close your eyes and use your imagination. One star."

I was almost looking forward to how indignant this movie was going to make me until I realized: I don't have to see it. So I won't.

Remember his He's Just Not That Into You review? Classic.