Marty on the Mountain

It's saturday afternoon and I'm working on a number of a projects, most important of which is the new website for Schoolhouse. Evan is watching a show on cats called Cats 101 (a not so subtle hint about our desperate need for a feline around the house) and the show happens to profile the Maine Coon (a personal favorite) so of course I tune in. It turns out that there is a maine coon living at the weather observatory station on the top of Mt. Washington named Marty. Marty! I exclaimed. Like the weatherman! (err...not really a weatherman as it turns out. watch the video) Martin Engstrom reported the conditions on Mt. Washington for nearly 40 years and was a personal favorite of my fathers because of his unique broadcasting style. Enough of this sentimental walk down memory lane however...over to Marty on the Mountain for the rest of the story. Marty...

A strange confluence of events

I just watched this 2 hours documentary on TV about the stealing of Lincoln's body (which I highly recommend by the way, it was really excellently made) and was reminded of something that I read about in Theodore Roosevelt's biography. 

Roosevelt's father knew Lincoln and his mother was a southern belle so it's not surprising that young Teddy was made to watch (though knowing TR's interest in taxidermy he may have been eager to see) the slain President's funeral procession. In this photo of the funeral procession passing the corner of 14th street and Broadway, we see on the left the mansion of Cornelius Roosevelt and in the second floor are the figures of 6-year old Teddy and his brother Elliot. (as a side note, and rather sadly, that site is now a very modern building and a store called Shoe Mania, which Amanda and I have been in and do not recommend).

This is really the kind of history I love because while it's so simple and logical, it's thrilling to see how people's lives overlap, and how history actually unfolds--especially when those people happen to be Presidents of the United States. While I could go on and on about the strange events that surround Lincoln in life and in death, I'll just leave it with this one: Teddy lived at his father's house a few blocks away at 28 East 20th and literally a block east opposite Gramercy Park at number 16 lived Edwin Booth, one of the most famous actors in America and brother of Lincoln's assassin, John Wilkes Booth. That's quite a neighborhood.

Broadway dims it's lights tonight

I just wanted to say a few words in acknowledgement of Natasha Richardson's passing. Like many people, I knew only her work as an actress and humanitarian but feel deeply saddened by her sudden death.

I first began to pay attention to Richardson when she assumed the role of Sally Bowles in the stunning revival Cabaret. That was one of the first Broadway show I ever really fell in love with, due in large part to Natasha's vibrant portrayl of Sally Bowles, and had a tremendous impact of the way I thought and felt about theatre. I felt a tremendous sense of pride when she took home the Tony that year for Best Actress in a Musical.

Bigger than her work on stage and film were her charitable contributions, most notably with amFAR, for which she was a brilliant spokesperson. It's a horrible feeling to know that someone who had so much potential and cared so deeply for so many could be killed so simply and so quickly. I know it makes me want to do more with my life, and give more love to the people around me. Lets all try that.

New Paintings

I just wanted to draw some attention to the fact that I've put new pictures of my paintings online.

(you can find all my art here...well not all of it but most of it and I'm trying to put more up soon)

the new albums I'd like to point out are my Blue Show and the Watercolors in Progress. The new watercolors are fabric and paper collaged and stretched onto canvas stretchers and then painted on, something new I'm developing. I'm interested to hear what everyone thinks.

I just got back from Hawai'i and I'm in a funk

It's true. It doesn't make sense but I am. I dont know why. I can't explain it.

I'll be sharing some choice photos of the Hawai'i vacation over the weekend when I'm not so freaking tired.

Some quick things that have nothing to do with going to Hawai'i:

We had a Dragon Plant that was named Gonzalo. He got pretty big and had 2 chutes so we decided to alleviate his over crowding and split him in half. Well, after about 3 weeks the surgery is going pretty well. We have one large plant that we've dubbed Don Gonzalo and then another smaller plant named Lil' G. We love them both. I dont know how I've lived this long without houseplants.

The sunset was really beautiful tonight when I was on my way home. I really think giving up the hour of sleep is worth it for the extra daylight.

We are re-painting our living room from a Teal color that is god-awful to a soothing color called Tennessee Haze, which is not a type of marijuana.

I want to get a new backpack. I am sick of carrying over the shoulder messenger bags. I hate them. If anyone has a recommendation for a sturdy yet city-wise backpack that will help me organize my life and has a place for my water-bottle, please let me know.

a Revolutionary Idea

I just saw a picture of a Civil War reinactment, and I had the strangest thought...

Since I had relatives in both the Civil and Revolutionary Wars, does that mean that somewhere, in the wilderness of Virginia and at every Fourth of July there are grown men spending their weekends prentending (more like assuming the shape of) my dead great-great-great grandfathers? The thought is both eerie and fascinating...I might like to meet these guys.

The Land of Milk and Paper (Originally published 4/8/2006)

Yet another of my previous blog posts, this one is perhaps my favorite. Enjoy!

So, as always, I'm writing from my post in the library. This very snotty woman came in earlier complaining that the NY Times she wanted wasn't on the rack. So I went to the rack, confirming that indeed the paper was not there, and informed the woman I didn't know where it was because, well, not only didn't I give a monkey turd, but in the world of libraries anything not in it's designated place is deemed "lost." I asked her if she was looking for something specific, an article, perhaps and she said that in fact she was not.

I'm not sure if you've ever met anyone like this woman, but she was very condescending. She asked "Do you think that the staff pick it up and read it, and dont put it back where it belongs or lose it?" "Periodicals aren't supposed to leave the library," I replied. "Yeah, but do you think thats what happens?" Her lipstick bothered me, her twitchy body language told me immediately that she was no good. "I really can't say ma'am (women hate it when you call them ma'am) but I would hope no staff member here would ever committ such a grevious offense."

My real beef with this lady is that she is hopelessly out of touch with reality and time. It's 2006, there is virtually no news on the planet that is inaccessable via the internet. Also, what kind of person can't go get their own new york times? they're $1...

Speaking of things that dont last long in new york (newspapers, dollars...) I found out why the Milk in NYC has a more recent expiration date than surrounding areas. Let me give some background for those that dont live in new york. See, on milk containers in the city there's a date of expiration lets say it's April 11, then below that date is another line that says "In NYC April 9." Well shit like that will keep a person up nights, just wondering if there's some sort of NY milk conspiracy.

Turns out that The NYC board of Health is pretty smart. They take into account the potential mishandling of "fluid milk" and have set stricter rules about milk sales. So the deal is that once a grocery store gets the milk, they have 96 hours to sell it (which gives us our shortened expiration date). It seems that the date on the bottle is less of an indicator of when the milk will be bad and more of a guide for how long the milk is saleable by law. Also turns out that milk is usually still good for several days after the expiration date

So it's not that the milk here is any worse than milk anywhere else, it's just that we have higher standards.