There are many advantages to a home office: Short commute, no gas costs, no traffic jams, a comfortable work environment, no pants . . . Unfortunately, there are also disadvantages. The refrigerator is only a short walk away. It is easy to forget to shower, or even get dressed for the day. Six dogs in a small house inevitably leads to the overwhelming aroma of dog flatulence . . . Continue reading
Mr. Technology here, battling my router manufacturer, upgrading old machines, converting operating systems, and wishing for fewer blackouts. My router technology outdated ten years ago, and while my neighbors are probably too stoned to figure out how to hack my network, it was time to upgrade. Continue reading
Hopefully nobody received spam from me this weekend. If so, I apologize, and hey, suck it up! I am not sure, but I think my main email account was compromised for a few hours, judging by all of the bounceback messages filling my inbox Saturday morning. Apparently, I was advertising Sexy Russian Brides and various erectile dysfunction meds. Considering that I prefer my brides imaginary and fully support dysfunctional erections, it obviously was not me sending out this crap. Continue reading
It’s only February, and I am in shorts and a t-shirt, wandering the seaside and soaking up the sun. The tide is high and the waves are only a foot or so tall, but the surfers keep flocking to the beach. These calm days are incredible, making me once again wonder why I took a five year Idaho break. My own private Idaho was a hellish snowscape, followed by a few weeks of wonderful weather, followed by blistering heat and a losing battle against knapweed and the slow collapse of everything related to my house. Damn, the previous owner (and builder) certainly had a love for low grade pvc and creative wiring, didn’t he? Continue reading
Hey sunshine! Please stick around, at least long enough for my Trinidad walk tomorrow. Looking kind of grey in spots out there . . . I need my
capuccino cappucino coffee prize at Beachcomber Cafe and it’s not as special if I don’t work for it.
My last excursion was up to China Town, which led me to the following discovery: I am not ready for authentic Chinese cuisine. Fried duck tongues? Pass. Snails and pork intestine in porridge? Pass. Snails and crispy fins? Yes, still pass. Speaking with the only person I know who has admitted to eating pork intestine, I learned that they “taste like crap.” Since this is coming from a Chinese woman, I am willing to accept it as an accurate assessment. Who would have guessed?- the conduit for crap tastes like crap. As the punchline goes — Alimentary, my dear Watson!
No Chinese food today. Instead, I am going to the Long Island cousins and enjoying an Easter dinner away from home. True, I would rather enjoy an Easter dinner at home, but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen this year.
Yesterday after the Natural History Museum, I had lunch at NorthWest, a café on Columbus Avenue. Halfway through my meal, Matt Dillon and his friend Lease, who were on the way out of town to visit Matt’s sister for Easter, came in and sat at the table next to me. Or maybe it was ‘Lise, I’m not sure. It sounded like Lease. Being an avid people-watcher and eavesdropper, it was great fun. While Matt fidgeted and wolfed down his eggs Benedict, I stared out the window at the gawkers. Most people walked by, oblivious to being so close to greatness, blind to the shining star that is Celebrity. Okay, I’m playing things up a bit here — most people just walked by. Really, I shouldn’t mock the famous. Considering that nobody ever comes up to me and says “Hey, you’re that guy who put all those silly comments in the C-NET web sites! You hack together some great code, man . . . can I have your autograph?”, I think I deserve the chance to mock, dammit! Crap, off-track again.
A few, though, would look in, then do a double-take. They would then slow down and whisper something to their friend, who would also turn, trying not to be too noticeable, and they would then either stare unabashedly, or argue over whether it was really Matt. Yes, everyone on Columbus Avenue in New York walks in pairs, or did so this Saturday. I just sat there, eating my wild mushroom ravioli, then later my apple cobbler, enjoying the viewing opportunities and wondering whether I should start making faces to see how many people I could distract. Is it rude to make people laugh while they are trying to stare at a celebrity?
So, what do the famous talk about? Well, Matt likes to talk about bread, pastries, and the Sicilian Mafia, the myths behind the color of blood oranges, and being in a cave. Waking up in the dark and thinking he was trapped in a cave, actually. All in all, a great day for an eavesdropping people-watcher.
Hey, what about Rental? Or Lease, or whatever her name was? Oh yeah, she had a salad (Cobb?), was very blonde with entirely too much make-up and rarely spoke. When she did, she had a habit of mangling words. Much too painful to listen to, thank you.