Up the Hudson

Henry Hudson may have sailed down this river, but we walked up it. From the West Village to the West 79th Street Boat Basin and through the community gardens of Riverside Park. Along the way we encountered helicopters landing with immigrants from posh Hamptons weekends, the aircraft carrier Intrepid and wild geese with their goslings.

Treacherous all.



USS Intrepid.

What a superbly beautiful day it was along this waterway. So many bikers and bathers and outdoor enthusiasts enjoying their lives in the crazy city that seems to provide solace in patches which still amazes me.


Law and Order is filmed in this studio at the immense Chelsea Piers.

There is this cool restaurant/bar along the river at Pier 66 called The Frying Pan which includes a lightship that was salvaged at the bottom of Chesapeake Bay. We walked on it to check it out. It was thriving and lively. Loved it. It reminded me of my beloved The Ramp in San Francisco.





A family outing.

Photographers usually try to avoid having the Empire State Building sticking out of a subject's head, but I guess I find it amusing.

Brian trying to blend into the community garden in Riverside Park

Morandi

Sean skillfully and thoughtfully organized a big brunch for eight of us at Morandi in the West Village. We had a wonderful and efficient Italian waitress (above) and great bread. (I wish I asked where they got their bread. I am sure someone knows since this is a Keith McNally place and those in the know know these things.)

Sean ran into his friend from his high fashion days at GQ and hers at Chanel. I thought I saw Soon Yi Previn. I did not.


(l-r) Frank, Teddy, Pat, John, Brian, Pat (head obscured by) Sean, Paul.

Frank's Shoes. I love Frank's shoes almost as much as the bread at Morandi.

V and T Pizzeria

Instead of dining at Blue Hill with Barack and Michelle, Brian and I had dinner at V and T Pizzeria up by Columbia University and the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine. It was not divine, but it was pretty good. I especially loved the salad with feta and olives.


It was here that friends of 20 years discovered that Brian hates my favorite pizza (Sausage and Mushrooms) and he likes his crust well-fired and I like mine more doughy. How did we possibly go through all these years and travels not knowing this? What else lurks?

POTUS and Wife - Date Night in New York

If you look down the left of the above picture you will see "BELASCO" which is the name of the theatre Michelle and Barack Obama were in tonight to see August Wilson's "Joe Turner's Come and Gone" which was directed by Bart Sher who went to my high school a few years ahead of me.
Before the show they ate at Blue Hill in Greewich Village which of course I and everyone else now wants to go.



Massive trucks full of sand blocked the street. Standard procedure for when the President goes to see a play.

Brooklyn

Today was Brooklyn. Not Posh Spice and David Beckham's son, but the New York City borough. Brian and I went to explore. It was a fun other world adventure with nice people and trees. I missed some great photo ops of father with baby in Williamsburg who gave us excellent "what to see" directions while selling lemonade on the street to raise money for a local kid to get eyeglasses. We both gave a buck. Or the cool and hunky guy in Park Slope who told us to go to 5th Avenue which was great. Alas. But here is what I got:

Prospect Park



Subway Station entrance with fiberglass cow.


Craftily making Brian's last name happen on the subway sign.

Back to Manhattan or further in?


Brian and I practicing out runway model turns on the Brooklyn Bridge. I think he wins. Or I am a better photographer...

God of Carnage

(Pat, Cheline, Hilary, Brian. Photo shot Norwegian-style*)


For those of you readers at home who really don't give a sh*t, bear with. You see my friend Hilary lives in New York as do I and we have a mutual BFF Cheline who lives in Austin, TX who was coming here on business at the same time another BFF of mine Brian was going to be here visiting from Seattle who knows Cheline from San Francisco. It was all too something not to do something together in the Big Apple. And tonight while the four of us were having a FAB Thai meal at Pongsri (which was suggested by Hilary, but really a while ago by her sister Sarah who can find you an Afghan plumber with a lisp in New York if cornered to do so) I remarked that Cheline and Hilary are the BFF girl version of Brian and me though there are probably loads of holes in this analogy, but it was cute and would have had the restaurant patrons collectively saying "Ahhhhhh" had I still been drinking and gotten up on the table to announce this.

But let's back up. Why were we even at Thai on W. 48th you ask, feigning interest? Well, about a month ago Cheline bemoaned never getting to the theatre when she is in New York. Bemoaning, as we all know, is a great influencer over others since no one wants to be the bearer or brunter of someone's bemoanage. Theatre tickets had to be gotten.

She and I went through the list and knew that "God of Carnage" was the play to see for us. And according to the two of us, the play for Hilary and Brian to see. And it is the play to see for everyone else as well since it is probably the hottest ticket on Broadway at the moment and sells out every performance. But Cheline was involved, as well as Amex Platinum, so she got 4 orchestra tickets 4th row aisle to a sold out play in the time it would take me to brush my teeth or floss, but not both.

Wow. Whatta an evening. This play by Yasmina Reza who wrote "Art" stars Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, James Gandolfini and Marcia Gay Harden. It is about two couples who meet to discuss what to do when one couple's eleven year old son hit the others' eleven year old son with a stick and knocks out two of his teeth.

I will not ruin the rest, but afterwards I was already exhausted for the cast knowing they would have to give that performance TWICE tomorrow. It is really funny and creepy and "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf"-y.

What a thrill it was to see these four actors just sink their teeth in.

To each other.

This is not the kind of ensemble piece like "Sex and the City" where the four of us wanted to figure out which character we were most like. And I think that may be part of the point of it.

But great evening in New York City on Broadway with wonderful folk from my wonderful life.

"Woof-woof!" (Inside GOC joke!)


*The guy who took our picture under the sign is the guy in the middle here. He and his buddy are both from Norway where Brian's people are from so I had to do the group Norwegian photo. Always bringing people together, me.

East Village

Brian and I picked the East Village of Manhattan as our touring destination for the day. What a fantastic place. At night it can be overrun with young clubbing hipsters. I have seen it. It is like Night of the Living Sort of Living. They travel in swarms. But during the day it still possesses this old world charm mixed with emerging coolness.


Our first turn was into Surma this amazing Ukrainian shop that has been around since 1918. I had good chat with the grandson about why Ukrainians are so into honey ("It is like tomato sauce is to Italians, " he said. And then I had a sickening feeling of going to the Ukraine and having honey slopped on everything I ate.). Meanwhile Brian bought egg dyes. They are heavy into the Egg as symbol of life, etc. I hope they, the Ukrainians, don't think they have cornered the market on that notion. Just loved the place. If I ever need a Ukrainian peasant outfit I need look no further.




Next door was McSorley's Old Ale House. Been in that spot since 1854. I imagine they called it simply McSorley's Ale House back then. Abe Lincoln had a drink here, but not his wife, since women were not allowed until the 1970's. I went there in the 1980s and it is pretty much the same: wood, sawdust on the floor, the smell of hops and barley. Very cool to see something that just keeps going.


Across the street we saw a Ukrainian church blocked by a beer van. I felt it symbolized something. Not sure what exactly.



We had a bite at a newer establishment down East 7th called Porchetta. Get ready for the F word: Fabulous pork sandwiches on excellent fresh bread. We split one and loved, loved it.






I am a bad food photographer, but at least I could have taken this before I took a bite!

Well, I guess I should have called this blog entry "East 7th" and not "East Village" since all I talked about and photographed was on this one street.

But we did manage to Tompkins Square Park and down 6th past the shuttered OG Restaurant where my friends Ron and Jay used to hold court and work. We also walked around the Public Theatre just below Astor Place on Lafayette. Loved the space. Must go there.

Great place, the East Village. Will go back. Before 11pm.

Neue Gallerie

Another fantasy realized: Two Dear Pals Meet and We Go See Art and Eat.



Brian and I met Ellie on the Upper East Side and went to the Neue Gallerie on 5th and 86th. Housed in a former Vanderbilt mansion, the building becomes part of the experience as a divinely elegant and intimate space for viewing top rate German and Austrian art. The famous Klimt painting Adele Bloch-Bauer I is here and it is breathtaking both for the technique and the story of its personal journey from the Bloch-Bauer family to the Nazis back to the family and then to America. Read this good Slate article on the purchase.


We also got to see this wonderful exhibition: BRÜCKE: THE BIRTH OF EXPRESSIONISM
IN DRESDEN AND BERLIN, 1905-1913 about a group of Artists known as the "BRÜCKE" or "Bridge." Very interesting. I especially loved Ernst Ludwig Kirchner's work.

This is one of my faves of his:

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner (1880-1938) Berlin Street Scene, 1913-14

Afterwards we had coffee and Sachertorte at the swank and over-looking-5th-Avenue-and-Central-Park cafe, Cafe Sabarsky. Why live in a Starbucks world where for a few Deutschmarks more you can have lovely silver trays and sit in an old-time Viennese surrounding in a 5th Avenue mansion. The Kaiser Mélange (Fresh-ground coffee with whipped cream) für fünf Dollar ist wundervoll!




Every day is a jolly holiday with Ellie and Brian and the Neue Gallerie.

Jennifer Makes the Blog

My life is like a movie, Part 387.

I am continuously slayed by what a small town New York City is to me --and combined with how I feel I like I live in it like it is an old backlot MGM musical... There are costumes and sets and people and story lines falling off trees here. There is hustle-bustle and the sound of brass and strings tuning up.

I feel almost daily inspiration and excitement.

Blah, blah, blah, I know, but IT'S TRUE!

So Brian and I are walking through Shubert Alley on our way to 9th Avenue to grab dinner when to my left I here "Patrick!!" coming out of the doors of the world-famous theatre-district restaurant Sardis. It is my friend Jennifer's voice. She is with Dennis and Gary. We all had New Year's Eve in '07 chez our pal Jerry Blake. They have just had dinner or drinks or opium or whatever and are rushing to catch "Mary Stuart" at the Broadhurst across the way. This is bloody Times Square folks, you ain't supposed to run into neighbors!

They came at us like a tracking shot and if they weren't rushing for curtain there would have been a musical number for sure. It felt like right out of "Follies" and the New York of old where everyone is dining and rushing to get to the theatre. I loved it. It was a Nanette Fabray, Gene Kelly, Betty Garrett, Donald O'Connor kind of vibe.

We did manage to grab a man off the street who realized the importance of time to take this quick shot.

Dennis, Gary, Jennifer, Pat, Brian

Times Square. Beach Chair.

One of my very besties, Brian, journeyed from the Pacific Northwest across the plains and prairies to his homestead in Wisconsin and finally to visit me in the Big City today. So happy to have him here. We are so in touch all the time that it was hard to believe that we had not laid three-dimensional eyes on each other since Thanksgiving Aught Seven.

This evening we had a screening to go at MTV in Times Square and came across the test-drive of Times Square as Pedestrian Mall. Very Euro, but with lawn chairs! What a great feeling it was to lounge at the crossroad of the world and have a coffee!

Daily, amidst all the craziness and struggles I have, I realize I have a charmed life.

I'm Sorry, I'm Pissed

My Facebook status post today: "So let me get this, er, straight: Marriage in California is ONLY between a man and a woman and 36,000 gays who got grandfathered in? WTF? Explain THAT to your children in your schools."





Me, Carmine and Dolores

Today the California Supreme Court said that some people are not as equal as others under the eyes of the law in California. As a native Californian and as a US citizen I find it so sad and so maddening. I had errands to do today and a friend coming to town tomorrow to get ready for and the gym and some work stuff, but I dropped it all to march and say "NO."

Today I was proud to be a New Yorker.

We gathered at Sheridan Square and marched to Union Square straight down the main corridor of 14th Street and it felt good. I had to march. I had to march off my anger. I had to march to protest this terrible decision and stand up against inequality. Where does it stop? Will it happen in New York too?

My feeling is that we all have to be equal under the eyes of the law or it just doesn't work.

If some care about the so-called "sanctity" of an institution with a 50% failure rate so much because "marriage is between a man and a woman to raise children because children need to be raised by both a man and a woman" then here goes folks:

• No divorce. Ever. Under no circumstances. Work it out for the kids.

• If a man and a woman get married and do not have kids for whatever reason then the marriage must be dissolved.

• All interracial marriages must be voted on by the people to allow for maximum comfort for all.

• If one of the spouses dies and the child is thus being raised in a household without the loving influence of one of the genders then the surviving spouse must marry an opposite-gender partner within 3 months or give up custody of the children to a dual-opposite gender marriage.



How do you like them apples? Pretty effin' ridiculous, right? Well the government (and the people) need to stay out the bedroom of all. Including Mel Gibson and his pregnant girlfriend who must wait to marry him because he is not even flippin' divorced. How can devout Catholic Mel get married again anyway? Oops, I am off topic...

It is simple. Equal rights FOR ALL CITIZENS. Period. And on a Federal level as well where it really counts.

And where is the President on all this? Not now because there are bigger fish to fry? Well you fry those fish with YOUR spouse from another country getting deported.

And what about DOMA and "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"? People who have given service to this country are still being fired! This is insane. Yet the President does nothing.



We ALL have to march. I don't care if you "don't approve" of gays. If Lithuanian-Americans in Idaho were being denied the right to get library cards I would march.

It effects us all.

Zoom-In.com

I met with Megan Cunningham, Founder/CEO of Magnet Media and Zoom-In.com today. We had met once before and she is just terrific. Zoom-In covers arts, entertainment, technology and is really terrific. Check it out. I have learned a lot about digital media watching some of their programming. Very well done.

I wanted to talk to Megan about digital ME-dia, meaning digital media and me! She was so helpful and encouraging. My hope is to create and produce content for on-line and mobile.

We met at her office and if I was a blogger worth my bloody salt, I would have taken a photo of her (beautiful/dynamic) in her office (beautiful/dynamic) at her desk with this amazing window that that has a killer view of the world-famous EMPIRE STATE BUILDING (beautiful/dynamic). All I can do at this point is paint a picture with a cheesy mock-up representation:



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Kinda get it?

Well, we went out for a bite in the Flatiron District of Manhattan and there were these guys working on a roof when we heard a CRASH. Bricks had fallen from the top of this building right by us and landed in the street. A car got hit, but PEOPLE COULDA DIED! Including us.

So to push this story to its limits, we met at the swank international offices of Zoom-In, went to get lunch and discuss the ENTIRE future of media over a salad and ALMOST DIED.

Had I been a blogger worth my salt I would have had my Flip Video camera with me and caught the falling bricks on camera. But I suck, so here is the best I could do:

Holiday on the Hudson

Skipper and I walked from our swank West Village digs on our final day of sitter/dog bliss down to the Hudson River Walkway (or whatever it is officially called - always a mystery to me. Readers?). Others were in traffic coming back from East Hampton and Provincetown and we were already at the beach. I tell you these New York folk lie out every chance they get.

In a city swarming and teeming and undulating with millions, it was just peaceful here at water's edge. Granted no one was swimming, but there weren't any dead bodies floating either. (See? I AM always half full!)


And low and behold in this city of a gazillion, I ran into my friend Enrique who was in the shade studying for his green architect's exam. What a perfect spot to stay inspired (and distracted!). I will never get sick of the small town feel I have here. (Unless, of course, I owe you money.)

Enrique, Pat, Skipper

Here Skipper looks like she is just arriving from Eastern Europe to the new World.

The outstretched paw expresses all the emotion of an immigrant's struggle, don't you feel it?

New York City is So Well Signed

Skipper, Chick Magnet

It is funny to be an imposter dog owner. This is much different than being a dog walker. I look like I am in an owner/pet relationship and not for hire. I just do. Plus it helps that there is just one dog and not six pulling me down 7th Avenue.

Why every straight guy doesn't get a dog, I do not know. I was taking Skipper's photo on the the street when a gaggle of four blond women walked by and it was catnip! Dognip? They loved her. And by extension, me...

And the impostor vibe keeps going. When you housesit you have a whole new library of books on "your" shelf and a whole new DVD and CD collection to experience. And the view out the window is different. I love it all.

I watched "Jesus Camp" and "Auntie Mame" and burned a load of CDs while looking out a window high up overlooking the Hudson and the paper cut out buildings and water towers of the West Village. Others may be in the Hamptons, the Cape or South Dakota, but I am here and I love it!

Truly a sweet retreat.

Thanks, Skip

It's a Jolly Holiday with Skipper

Dog and the City

The happy family.

Day One of my Life in the West Village with Skipper. We left off yesterday with Sean giving me dogsitting training and today was the real deal: me and Skipper alone in the big city.

My friend Sue met us and we decided to treat Skipper to a West Village Extravaganza Walk. We walked down to the Hudson River Walkway.

Speck-Tack-U-Lar.

The sun was shining and the grass and the piers were virtual beaches. Great "I wish I had that body" watching.

Skipper walked at a fair clip and we all just had a ball. We looked like a happy couple out for a walk in our cool West Village neighborhood with our dog.

All lies.

After walking along the river we wended our way in and passed by Julian Schnabel's cute little PALAZZO Chupi. Frankly it is massive and I want to be invited to a party there. Apparently times are hard for even Julian as he had to sell a Picasso.

Julian's house.

Then for some reason I ended up inside a Christian Louboutin store on Horatio St. I was egged on by Sue. These crazy pumps are $900/$1000 dollars. And then you gotta get the dress and purse to match. And then you gotta get invited to Julian's Palazzo to rationalize the whole damn thing. Stress.

Sue and Skipper outside Christian's store.



It was at the pump store where Skipper was just losing it, poor thing. We had to get home stat.

What a perfect day in my perfect WV life for a perfect Memorial Day weekend.

The sun setting from my weekend getaway. See the Hudson River straight ahead?

Garden Party with Growing Trees, Brooklyn

Secret Garden Party

Bob and I took the uber-fast 2 train from the UWS to Brooklyn. Bob's editor at ClassicalTV.com, Steve, had a cocktail garden party. It was perfect weather and there was just the perfect casting of people and props! I am still in awe of Steve's party-throwing and hosting abilities. It is an art and a talent not all have. He has it in spades down the the name recollection thing. I am humbled once again and impressed.

Pat and Bob

Host Steve and Ted.

It was a beautiful evening and we met just the nicest people. One guy came in and said to me, "I know you!" and I, being used to looking like so many people since I get this ALL THE TIME, said, "No, I just look like someone you know." (What a pretentious ass!! Me, I mean. But I didn't mean to be really, it is just knee-jerk, not jerk. Really.) It just came rushing out. But then I took pause and SURE ENOUGH...we worked together in Los Angeles at Fox Kids!! How small a world is that?!

Fox Kids Alum, Pat and Tim (I went for that "extra in a 50's movie" look for this shot.)

Just had a ball this evening. It was what the doctor would have ordered for me if I had decent health insurance. Bob talked Trollope with his writer friend Chris Bram in the back garden to the left of the crudité. Chris wrote the book which the Oscar-winning film "God and Monsters" is based which Bob's friend, Bill Condon, wrote and directed. I spoke to people about unemployment and fear and party icebreaker ideas more in the front towards the hummus and olives.

Bob and Chris


Guys and Bell Peppers.

Dog Sitting Training and Star Sighting

Everyone who is anyone has someplace cool to go for the 3 day weekend. Not to be left out, I am going south of 14th Street to dogsit in the West Village.

Sean is going home to Aberdeen, SD for his nephew's graduation so I am watching Skipper the dog and Harry the cat at his swank and spacious, perfectly located in the heart of the fabulous West Village apartment.

I went down this afternoon for lunch and training.

Sean is the guy who types up all the instructions and info. I love that. Easy as pie. I feed and walk Skipper and feed Harry and have been instructed to watch DVDs and eat from Sean's vast collection of Trader Joe's food supply. Yum.

Sean took me to BLT Burger on 6th Avenue between 11th and 12th for lunch. It was amazing. We both had the blue cheese burger and I had a B & W Shake. Wow. Go. Good.

We then walked out and saw Anderson Cooper with his Man Friend. They both walked with that "dude swagger" thing. Kind of put on I felt, but then I only see Anderson in a suit behind a desk on TV.


Anderson on left. Matching messenger bags and dude swagger.
(Photo credit: Sean as I didn't have the guts.)

Hiya and Her Loaves

In the same day I had a meltdown, I had a moment that makes me love New York once again.

It was a warm evening and I was waiting for the bus on Broadway by Lincoln Center. The stop is right by all the rows and rows of restaurants that are side by side each other with massive amounts of tables of al fresco dining. The places were mobbed with eaters of pasta and drinkers of wine and enjoyers of life.

I remarked to the woman next to me waiting for the bus "I feel like we live in Rome and not New York." She said that the bus schedule felt like Italy as well! We got to talking and she lived in New York 30 years ago, but was here for a 5 day master baking class. We spoke about bread while boarding the bus and she asked if I wanted to sample some in her bag. I did.

We discussed salt and sweet and "starter dough." The woman reading a book next to us looked up and said, "My son uses starter dough too."

Hiya now lives in Redding, PA and her mom lives an hour outside Tel Aviv. She said she saw a cellist in the subway today who she saw at a concert in Redding and she spoke to him about the event. He then invited her to his graduation concert at Julliard today as his guest. We both remarked how great it is to meet people.

As we got to my stop she asked if I wanted her loaves of bread she had made. She said she has plenty. And with that she gave me her bag of fresh artisan bread and I walked off into the night a richer, yeastier man.

Hiya and her braided bread on the M104 bus.

Ad Campaign I Hate and just seems WRONG

High Anxiety, Part 2.

My day of freaking out over life and feeling overwhelmed continued even though I had a successful and winning haircut.

Ironically I was reading an article in New York Magazine called "In Defense of Distraction" by Sam Anderson. It is about the Poverty of Attention: we are so involved in so many multi-tasking activities and thus our attention is sapped, and then it goes on to argue that maybe distraction is okay.

But what I got from this article (which I will rip out and file the old-fashioned way) was EXACTLY what was driving me insane today. I was TOO distracted and trying to MULTI-TASK (which studies seem to show is a time-waster since we have to allow for all the "recovery time" in between.) my way through the day and not drop a stitch. I could not do it. All the lists I wrote on my iPhone (why is there no TO DO LIST program on Mac where I can sync it so it is on my phone AND my computer like my datebook?!! Arggh.) and all the lists I had at home were just hanging there waiting until I finished this call.

And reading this article about the Poverty of Attention piecemeal on the subway was hard.

I finally thought "I am going to go into that damn Central Park on this MOST BEAUTIFUL of days that I am too busy to enjoy and sit on a bench and read this fillipin' article to the end. And THEN I will do the 8 million pressing things I have planned for today that I need to achieve so I won't be a failure.

I sat. I read. With my ipod playing music from the soundtrack of "Million Dollar Baby" and I watched a dog and I read and I thought about how much time I would have at home before Zumba class and I read.

And then I had to re-read.

I stopped. I took three slow breaths and then read the magazine article in the beautiful park on a sunny day to its finish and I was joyful.

One of suggestions which I could SMELL coming (and for me it had the same scent as FEAR) was Meditation. Meditation seems to be the answer to so much. I have to agree. I need to put it on my list of things to do.

Barber Shop

I have lived here in New York City for 602 days so far and this was the FIRST day I thought that this city was going to do my head in. It finally happened. I lost the love. (For a moment.)

The roaring sirens, the bus screeches, the subway thundering, the crowds and slow walkers and fast dodging walkers, the dogs, the knee high school children, the bad cell reception, just the whole damn thing. I wanted to just add to the cacophony and SCREAM!!!

I think I was just feeling so overloaded with "return this" "call this person back" "did you think of this?" "What happened to studying French everyday?" "Have you written to so and so for a job yet?" "What about the pipe band?" "Why can't you balance yet?"

"Do you really need a haircut?"

Arggggh.

I was rushing to the barber shop to get my haircut and then to a place on the Upper East Side then to home to write this job hunting newsletter and then and then and then...

Okay. Calm thyself.

I LOVE my new barber. My friend Pat Ravey turned me on to him. His name is John or Emon. One of the two. He is Russian or Israeli. One of the two. He says to me "I cut your hair and you get good job." With that accent that just seems older and sager than anything I got. I wanted to tell him all my problems, but I thought it inappropriate for a $15.

John or Emon and Me. See how pre-occupied I look? Argggh?

I took a safety to lighten the hell up:

Anyway, he really calmed me down and I just love his place. I asked for a card to plug his joint, but there is no website and, get this, the name on the card: "Barber Shop." So folks it is a great place called Barber Shop at 333 Park Avenue South between 24th and 25th. Tell 'em the Pats sent you.

Danny Kaye and the Sherry Netherland Hotel

Today I walked by this theatre on W 46th and saw this marquee for Danny and Sylvia: The Danny Kaye Musical . It made my mind rush back to a time (ala Proust and the madeleine which I am stealing from a future post I have planned) in the early 1980's when I worked at the Sherry-Netherland Hotel on 5th Avenue.

The Sherry. I walked up and down all those flights 4 times a day.

I was a security guard at the Sherry (as it is called) and Danny Kaye and his wife Sylvia Fine lived there. I remember the first time I saw him. I was on the floor of his apartment and he was waiting for the elevator. I was struck by what a legend he was. And how this legend was so frail and hunched over. He was very ill at the time and died a few years later. His wife was quite the lady on the town and she had a lot of pep after 3pm. No one was allowed to put phone calls through to her before that time. They were both very nice to me and I used to have to come up to their floor and lock their door for them. I didn't mind and it was these kinds of things that one had to do at this kind of place.

Diana Ross lived there and as well as the Coppolas. I would see Francis Ford and his wife after he would come back from a day of shooting "The Cotton Club." I even saw his Oscar for The Godfather. And I used to see Diana Ross and her brother. Jessica Lange and Sam Shepard stayed there and he hailed a cab on the street wearing a cowboy hat. I wanted to tell him that I was doing my senior thesis on his play "Buried Child, " but lacked the guts at the time. (Got an A+ thank you very much) But I seemed to have the pluck to knock on their hotel door for a weak security guard-style reason just to talk to Jessica Lange which I did. She was on my dorm wall in college along with Darryl Hannah.

The lobby of the Sherry. My boss was electicuted right here. Never spoke again.

I was young and confused and awed (now older and confused and awed) and living in Manhattan and working at a glamourous hotel as an undercover security guard for a wopping $8/hour. I will have to write about this someday as I saw everything I had never seen before there and it was a trip. There were French bag ladies, government officials, prostitutes, ladies who lunch, drunk David Lee Roth, floodings, electricutions, hotel theives with straight razors, telephone operators with beehives and me. I loved it.

Thank you Danny and Syliva! I will go and see your play. Rest in Peace. You have earned it.

Tibet House

The donor list includes every groovy celeb you could imagine.

Went with my friend (and East Coast guru) Sue to an Introduction to Meditation class at the Tibet House tonight. I thought it was 2 hours of meditation and thus freaked. But it was meditation plus talk, plus groovy Tibetan/Buddhist vibe moment.



Living and (not) working in New York requires one to take quiet moments. This is why the Hamptons was invented. But for those of us who aren't flush or connected, we have meditation.

The class was taught by author and expert Sharon Salzberg. I tend to fall asleep during meditation and she really gave me some good pointers on staying with the breath. (I have had this breath thing since I was born! And I don't want to give it up yet.)

Sharon talking post class.

I felt good afterwards. I felt like I had calmed my anxiety and mind. This is a breakthrough. Going to try this on in the morning before jamming 10 cups of coffee down me gullet. There are classes every Tuesday here and a good turn out. Hey, another way out of the bars and chance to meet the one...yourself!


And just like the bars, we were the last to leave:

Lion Brand Yarn Studio

Saw this display window on W. 15th Street. It is the KNITTED skyline of New York City + knitted Mayor Michael Bloomberg. I wish I could find a better shot of it on their website. Excellent.

The Case of the Broken Bagpipe - A Love Story

I was on my way to bagpipe band practice at Kelly Ryan's Pub in the Bronx when the strap on my case broke and my pipes dropped in the street.


As a result, the ivory mount on my pre-World War I Henderson bagpipes broke. (They had been through TWO World Wars and I broke them walking up the street to to a pub?!!)

This is where the tail takes a turn. The traditional answer to this problem is to bring my pipes to a bagpipe mender, but I remembered overhearing this really nice French woman, Isabelle, who is in my Afro Jazz dance class mention that she works in restoration at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.


I told her my plight and asked her if she knew anybody who might be able to help me. She did. I gave her my card and she connected me to Beth Edelstein who is an Assistant Conservator at the Met and works in 3-D object restoration. (Meaning: NOT paintings, but everything else.) I wrote to her and she wrote a lovely e-mail back to me.

In the movie version of this it would have a "84 Charing Cross Road" vibe.

Okay this is the thing I LOVE about New York City. I know it can happen other places, but just not on this scale to me.

Let's recap: This poor broken down on his luck bagpiper trudging to practice one night drops the only thing of value in his life and it breaks. But meanwhile he takes an Afro Jazz dance class where he meets the exotic French dancer and former travelling performer to the great houses of Europe who happens to work in restoration at the world famous Met and she hooks him up with an expert in 3d restoration.

So I went through and met the superb Beth Edelstein. She is currently working on the reinstallation of the Islamic collection's Nur al-Din room, a Damascene period room dating to the early 18th century. (This is lifted from her website which I will plug on these very pages.)

She met me and took me BEHIND THE SCENES AT THE MET. (It reminded me of going to the off-limits places in Disneyland when I was a kid and the bagpipe band was playing there.) Or, better yet, "From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler."

OFF LIMITS DOORS. (the doors themselves date back to the early 1980s I am guessing)

She showed me the project she was working on and it is amazing! The Islamic section has been shut for about 3 years and will not open until 2011. Wow.

We discussed my piece and she told me about the research she did on my bagpipes (Impressive!!) and what kinds of adhesives she thought to use and about how ivory works. I was blown away at the detail and attention to it she had. My pipes were in good hands.


And if there is ever a movie version you could NOT cast a prettier, nicer restoration expert. Let's just hope they put her opposite someone younger than Tom Hanks.

Beth e-mailed me after the weekend and I came in today and picked it up. It was better than I could have imagined. She did a brilliant job.

She and a partner operate a side business of doing expert restoration. If anyone has anything they need fixed with expert care I recommend Beth highly. I think she also has the skill to talk you through emotionally! Her company is SBE Conservation. Check out the site. It is cool.


Beth with the finished piece.

And THIS story is another example of the magic of possibility in New York City. A bagpiper meets a Met conservator through a French woman in a dance class and his ivory is restored as well as his faith that he is living in the right city.

Ahhhhhh....

And...if I were twenty years younger and straight and Beth were single and interested we would fall in love and get married and I would come to realize that this seeming tragedy of me breaking the ivory piece on my pipes was the best thing that every happened to me.

...and this would be the story of how we MET.

Streets of New York

Bar Mitzvah Disco
33rd and Park. The Jewish Book Center of the Workmen's Circle.

Notice who wrote the FOREWARD!

*********************************

Upper East Side Recycling
Veuve Clicquot and San Pelligrino ONLY!

Tea & Sympathy New York

Frank, Sean and Pat. West Village urchins.

Lately, I have needed tea and I have needed sympathy and today I got both.

Sean spotted 4 open seats at this very popular West Village brunch spot. It is a British restaurant which you would think would suggest plenty of availability, but they (the Brits) do breakfast like no others.

Tea & Sympathy evokes all those cloyingly awful descriptors: quaint, cozy, charming - but in the most wonderful deserved way.

This place is a KEEPER. Like I wrote about Kefi the other day, I will keep this place on my list of really wonderful New York dining spots. I had "The Full Monty" (naff name I have to say) breakfast which was eggs, sausage, bacon (the British kind) and tomahhhhto and MOST EXCELLENT 7 grain toast. And fresh-squeezed OJ. And the Earl Grey tea was wonderful. $14.40 all in which sadly is a really good price.


Everything I had was wonderful. And I tasted the scones (we always pronounced them "skawns" growing up, but most Americans say "skOHns" which I have a hard time hearing for some reason. Get over it, I know.) They were really the real deal. Wonderful.

My dear old Scottish mum would never order tea out because she said they didn't know how to make it properly and she would be right, but here they do and it was a cure-all for me. I am still thinking about it.


Frank and Pat. One stuffing. One staring.

The best thing of all was I had brunch with Frank, Pat and Sean. I felt like it had been so long since the 4 of us had seen each other and it was a fitting and wonderful reunion. We were right back and had a great time. I value my time with them and when the backdrop is a place like this it is like an old familiar doily.

Huh?

Sean being all Ruth Reichl

Norway Wins Eurovision Song Contest

The is a lot of cheese produced in Europe and this is no exception. I wonder why the Eurovision contest always seems like is it 25 years behind reality?




Check out the Ukraine's entry. Spitting fire must be compulsory. Again, cheesy and dated.

Alone Again, Unnaturally

I stayed home tonight.

Had a quiet moment.

Simple. Peaceful.

In order to pull this off, I had to climb the walls and pace. I struggled with not doing SOMETHING! There is a whole city out there. New York itself is theatre! I have to engage! NOW!! I am part of this whole crazy island. I have to have go out and spray my territory!

And I am exhausted.

I rarely am home (by choice) and I so appreciate all the great people I get to see and things I get to do, but a guy has to stay in once in a while. Recharge. Check in.

Especially a guy on a budget.
Though I have been careful, the admission to walk on the streets in New York is about $20 now, what with a coffee and getting something from the grocery and picking up a birthday card.

At home you can not spend (still have fear of 'ordering in' so this is good thing!) and you have to be engaged with yourself.

Turns out I had a GREAT night. I made dinner, watched two movies. It was an unintentional abortion-themed double feature. I saw the Romanian Palme d'Or winner "4 Months, 3 Weeks & 2 Days" followed by Albert Finney's first film, 'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning." Wow, sort of a calendar theme as well.

Once I was safely here and into the films, I was happy. Should try this more often. I hear a lot of people do it.

L'asso et Hervé

Nolita night. See the dwarfed Empire State Building in the distance? Amazing perspective.


My friend Danièle in Los Angeles suggested her friend Hervé Suffet and I meet when he came to New York from Los Angeles for a visit. Meeting people through other people is what makes the world go around in my opnion.

We met at L'asso on Mott Street in NOLITA. Me, being the local, picks the restaurant. I wanted to find a place out of my UWS comfort zone that had charm and good food. So of course I chose a place I had never been nor seen.

L'asso. Perfect for post Star Trek!

L'asso is known for its pizza which was fine. The service was good. I cannot think that I will rush to return. It was just fine.

But Hervé and I had a great visit. He was very nice and interesting. And he was gracious and helpful with my French. We walked through Little Italy and Greenwich Village all the way to the West Village. It was a beautiful night and was a fun visit.

Hervé et moi en Little Italy.

He is an importer of French products and you can check out his website here.

Merci, Hervé. Bon voyage et bonne chance à Singapour.

Columbus Avenue

Some people worry about their mortgage. Some about aging. I worry about where to go on the Upper West Side when I am dating, closing million dollar deals or entertaining foreign heads of state.

My worries are over. (About the "where to go" part)

Ron and I strolled up Columbus Avenue this evening pre-theatre. We are both on budgets and wanted a coffee (cheap), a chat (free) and then dinner (affordable.)

I wanted to check out the new Joe the Art of Coffee which opened here. (Everything downtown always opens an outpost uptown for those too intimidated or lazy to venture down) It is great. The place is well laid out and already feels a fixture in the neighborhood. I saw my friend David in there typing away on his Mac while listening to music on his ipod. And there goes my pal Hillary out front with her cute umbrella. The service was friendly and I really like the Joe.


Wow, where has the time gone? We ambled down to Kefi for dinner. I had wanted to go to this Greek restaurant since it was on 79th and now here was my chance. Folks, this is THE find for me. I think it will be my default "nice place" when I have friends from elsewhere and we want to have a nice meal on the UWS. The food was great. The service pleasant and the atmosphere lovely. I have to rave about the grilled octopus, but all the food we had was wonderful. I felt fresh, clean, Mediterranean and like my skin cleared with all the olive oil when left.

Ron talking to passer by about how good it was.

ALL

See the face an open book and two washers can make? Neat!!

It was back to the launderette as I am now into heavy cost cutting. No more taking my laundry out. And blah, blah, out of hard times and adversity comes something wonderful. Whatever. I am sure there is a quote that fits this.

On a small scale I do quite like going to my local laundry place. The rhythm of the dryers and the slushy, soapy sounds of the washers puts into a meditative state.

And I brought the Pema Chödrön book that the masseuse lent to me the last time I was here.

The wash house is the perfect place to read, mediate or journal. There is a peace about it. You have to wait for the machines to be done, but you can't vacuum, iron or clean the bathroom.

I find it best to sit and breathe and listen and read.

All.

George Moscone

I got my high school alumni magazine the other day, Genesis V, and read through it as I usually do, looking especially for what my classmates are up to. The class of 1980 rarely posts. We are either an unaccomplished or modest bunch!

There was a piece in there entitled "Chris & Jon Moscone Reflect on Their Father’s Legacy." I read this interview and was really, really moved. In fact it has stayed with me since I read it.

I was in the same class as Chris and was in plays with Jon. We were not especially close, but they were both always nice guys. I remember that much.

I also remember their dad, the mayor of San Francisco, George Moscone, when he would come to father/son dinners. And I remember saying hello to Jon in the stairwell between classes just before 4th period where we would all hear that our mayor and their dad, George Moscone, was dead.

The loss of one's dad at that age and through murder has got to leave such a gigantic void. A crater. In the article they spoke so lovingly and respectfully of their father. I was oddly proud of them both.

My sister called me last October and told me Chris just lost his 13 year son, Owen, to cancer. Both his dad and his son are gone. And Jon has lost his nephew. And all that is oddly and frustratingly life. I am reminded of this when I feel robbed and want my own parents back on this earth.

I think I am in a contemplative mood after seeing "Our Town" last week and reading this excellent interview by Paul Totah.

I wish both Chris and Jon well.

I think I will go about my day and be grateful.

Nelson Aspen

My international bon vivant and entertainment journalist friend Nelson Aspen was in town for a book signing at Borders at the Time Warner Center tonight.

His latest book is called "Nelson Aspen Hollywood Insider Exposed!: Secrets, Stars & Showbiz."

Like all true New Yorkers (I am claiming it!) I was booked (no pun) back to back with events this night and planned on greeting Nelson at Borders and then off to dim sum with him. I did not arrive at his signing until after the red carpet was rolled up and he had split to dim sum destination undisclosed to me. I e-mailed our mutual friend Alexandra in London to get his cell number, but realized she would be fast asleep.

Don't international bon vivant entertainment journalist friends read e-mail constantly? Maybe they do! (Ouch. )

Anyway, he told me he has gone bi.....coastal and has a place here now so I hope to see him more often. He is a really fascinating, accomplished nice guy and I wish him great success with his latest book.
**************

Nelson and Scotland

I do have to tell this one story about Nelson that I just love. I was in Scotland with the Prince Charles Pipe Band of San Francisco to compete in the World Pipe Band Championships. We stayed in the dorms at Glasgow Uni. On the breakfast telly as we were having our breakie was Nelson reporting from Hollywood. Like the good ponce I am, I said, "OMG, that is my friend Nelson!" He reports for ITV there as well as other outlets worldwide.

No one believed me.

I e-mailed Nelson and told him. He e-mailed me back, "Tell them to watch tomorrow and I will get the word 'bagpipes' into the broadcast."

I told them all this as proof and sure enough the next morning as we were ironing our shirts for the contest, there was Nelson reporting on movie stars from Tinseltown and he said, "Tell them to blow it our your bagpipes!"

Whatta guy!

Twitter for Business

Gregory and David


Twitter. Confounding to me. I live in a media age in a media world in a media city and the Digital Media is where I want to head professionally but I cannot fall in love with Twitter. I assume I am not alone.

But like a Jackson Pollack painting, I guess I just don't understand it.

So...I went to Brandhackers' "Twitter for Business" event last night. It was a presentation given by David Berkowitz of 360i and Gregory Galant of Shorty Report. I found it informative. I also found I had contempt before investigation. I see that I need to check into Twitter more. You can too by checking out this report which was last night's presentation.

I loved that during the presentation, real time photos and comments from the audience showed up on the crawl on the monitors.

This is a new media age and I am living in one of the major media capitals. And I am still back in traditional blogging!

Follow me on #pjconnolly

Sunday in the Park with Isaac

A beautiful day in the park. I went to hear the Interschool Orchestras of New York play at the bandshell with some players from the Vienna Philharmonic.

I got the most perfect bench seat along the side. It was perfect save for proud parents blocking my view when they stood to take photographs. Bless them.



The first batch of kids was the young ones and sounded like Prof. Harold Hill's lot from "Music Man" - la di dah di dah di dah.... Bless them too. What a thrill it must have been to be a nine year old playing on-stage in the historic Central Park Bandshell. Wow.

The older kids were wonderful and they had the extra boost of the Vienna Phil boys filling in. It was magical. I could feel the music in the trees.

Isaac Mizrahi was there to narrate "Peter and the Wolf." I have to say he was note perfect - very animated and funny, and the kids loved him.


My bad paparazzi shot of IM.

It was a blissful and FREE Sunday afternoon and another shared moment between me and my new city.


I took this shot of my mom who was there in the trees and the breeze. I felt her there on this day and it was a comfort. God I miss her. I cannot say it does not suck.




I cannot figure how to reposition these vids in the post (Dammit!) but here are some clips from the event. I took the first one partially sideways because I was not thinking. Crane head left for first 2 thirds!

Our Town, New York City

Richard was in from LA and we met up to see a production of "Our Town" at the Barrow Street Theatre in Greenwich Village.

But before I get to the play, (let me play the part of the narrator here) I want to say that Richard and I used to meet every Thursday in the early part of the turn of the century for coffee at the Laurel Canyon Country Store in the Hollywood Hills. It was this tucked away place up Laurel Canyon with bad cell reception and a hippie history. Right up there, you see? In fact Jim Morrison lived right over there and Joni Mitchell sang about it. Those days and discussions with Richard were amazing out on the deck overlooking this groovy life. See the tan German lady frothing the milk for the lattes? She knew I liked the almond croissants. I looked forward to our coffee there every week.


We recreated our LA canyon moment by ducking down a wee side street in the Village called Commerce Street to have a quick coffee and split a Whoopie Pie! at Milk and Cookies. It was a great place to catch up. Folks I recommend this place. It was that perfect tucked away place with amazing samples and lots of light. Just go down yonder beyond Bleecker and there you are.


Folks I am here to admit what I did not realize until last night: I had never before seen, read, heard, rented "Our Town." It is such a part of the American psyche that I just assumed I was part of it. What a treat. This production was superb in every way. It is a stark, simple set throughout with house lights on the entire time. Then in the 3rd act (SPOILER ALERT) a curtain is pulled back and there is this authentic down to the working stove kitchen from around 1894, I believe. Mom is dressed in proper era attire and is cooking bacon (FOR REALS!!!) on an old stove and it wafts throughout the theatre. (More proof that everything, including theatre, is better with bacon.)

This play is about embracing life and being in the present and valuing life and each other. And kinda how we don't do that. We are born, we live and maybe get married and have kids and then we die and it is over for us. All we have is the moment. This moment.

Lovely, simple, profound play so well done.

And here I live in New York City, my own Grover's Corners, where I live my life and I see people and I have a meal and I have hopes and dreams. Perhaps maybe I will even die here. Who knows? But so far, all I know is for 1.5 wonderful years, I have lived an incredible life here.

I don't know when I will see Richard again, but we had this evening and that play and that Whoopie Pie and another wonderful chat. And for this my life may not be longer, but it is richard. I mean, richer.

Richard holding playbill.

Microtouring with Mr. Huffy MacHuffy

There is just no pleasing people. Especially ones with too much time on hands in between gigs.

Had a meeting down in Soho, I was early. In order to kill time I decided to play tourist. Love to do that in an area that I rarely go. There is magic in local, same-city tourism. You are a local, but you are not that local.

Sort of like micro-climates which became all the rage in weather reporting (It is raining on my block, but sunny around the corner. )

I was micro-touring in Soho. Not even Soho proper, but Thompson Street ONLY. That's micro.

Microtouring.

The problem with me getting someplace early is I spend money. Not the $500 for a shirt kind of money, but the just shy of $20 kind of money on a sandwich, a coffee, okay... a cookie. That kind of money that adds up when nothing is coming in. The insidious spending I swear I will avoid.

I decided to have lunch at the cute and tucked-away Thompson Street Cafe. I had a salad and a smoothie ( I hate the word smoothie. It is as uncomfortable for me to say as panties. Dr. Freud?) The place as I said is adorable, but the service and quality were not. The tuna niçoise salad was something I could have slapped together at home with some salad greens and leftover tuna salad. The mango thing was fine. Not really any ginger flavor as advertised, but adequate.

I have to say I squabbled about a 50 cent overcharge on my drink concoction and they told me they were just using up those menus where the lower price was printed, but the correct price was on the chalk board on the wall.

I don't care how much, that is unacceptable. Lose the menus or red line the changes.

To redeem my Thompson St. experience, I walked across the street to City Girl Cafe. This is home of the (in)famous Stumptown Coffee from Portland, Oregon. There was a whole write up about it in New York Magazine (read it by clicking on this link.) City Girl is one of the places that serves this exotic coffee from the mysterious Pacific Northwest. Apparently all servers are trained by the master on how to make and serve this brown elixir. The guy I had gave me the dregs from the urn (even after I let him know I knew all about this coffee and this was going to be my first time.) Issues with not feeling respected? Dr. Freud come back in here.

I decided to also treat myself to a chocolate chip cookie. The cookie was amazing. Amazing. Get the cookie.

The coffee? The temperature was not that hot and neither was the coffee. It was purely forgettable which was such a disappointment. I only hope I had a shitty experience and it really is a Berkeley co-ed's orgasm. I really like the City Girl space, but the coffee was a sigh.

Thompson Street, I will be back. You and I will both see better days.

CUE: Thunder and Lightening.

Pre-storm park tranquility.


I was on the Upper East Side this afternoon with my friend Jonathan. We both had to go to the Upper West Side. The most beautiful and fulfilling way to do this is to walk across the park. But the sky above was as black as they town car that was taking Kiefer Sutherland that very minute to the police station where he was turning himself in for headbutting a fashion designer who he thinks bumped Brooke Shields without apologizing. (Kiefer, I think you need to look at your drinking. Just saying.)

Whew, that was a long way to go for a descriptor.

Panic!!

Yes, the sky was ominous. And it turned to voluminous straight away. We got caught in the biggest deluge cum thunder and lightening storm this side of the Hudson. It was amazing. And I loved every second of the wet, wet beauty of the black-trunked trees and the electric green leaves. The novelty wore off as we got close to my apartment. In the spirit of thorough and honest reporting, I must tell you my underpants were soaked through. (I can't speak for Jonathan's!)

Jonathan in the downpour. It gets even wetter later...

We had a good walk and it was magic in the park.

Walking in a downpour is one the great things about adulthood.

Black Watch

Before budget cuts and lay-offs and downsizing, I was flush and went to a load of theatre in New York. It is perhaps my first love. With Digital Media, Scotland and ice cream running not far behind. Oh, how to combine it all!?

I saw the National Theatre of Scotland's production of "Black Watch" last year at St. Anne's Warehouse in DUMBO. If Man. Hat. In. gave out Theatre Awards, I would give this play and production the "Best Thing I Saw in New York in 2008" Award. Wow, it was amazing on all levels: acting, writing, staging, lighting, And even decent bagpiping! ( I feel I can speak to this having played in the World Bagpipe Band Championships four times.)

The reason I bring this up is it just won the New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Foreign Play. This is quite something for the little engine that could. New York theatre is cut throat and this play has been to Edinburgh and beyond to New York, etc. and back to New York and just knocked their kilt socks off world o'er.

This is a perfect year for Scotland to win this award as it is the 250th Anniversary of national bard 'Rabbie' Burns' birth and there is a big push for all Scots and those of Scottish descent to come back to the homeland this year for Homecoming Scotland 2009. If you do go see a production!

The nascent National Theatre of Scotland is doing some good work and I hope to see more out of them on the world stage.

Me with Stella Litchfield, the National Theatre's Development Manager. She will love that I posted this photo again...

S_ _ R _ _ _ K

Broadway and 68th.

Walking to the Bus Stop

Penthouse Party

A friend of mine had a birthday party at his uncle's house today. It is a beautiful penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side with wraparound deck and overlooks the Hudson River. It was beautiful. Quite.

Had a great time on this blustery and wet Sunday meeting loads of new and very nice people. Friendly. I cannot say I ever see a lot of attitude in New York. This is strange to me as I saw it in LA all the time. Not that there aren't really nice people there as well, because I have met loads of them, but I have seen a lot more sniffiness there.

This cannot really make sense. Maybe I have changed??? Ha!

It was cosmos (for some) and cupcakes and just a great time.

Oh and I also noticed that it seemed like a Noah's Ark party where everyone was two by two. Save for yours truly.

I rarely notice that in New York either.

Trader Gods

This is what we used to call Trader Joes because we loved the place so much and basically worshiped it.

When I was considering jobs in Chicago and Philadelphia I did not go to the job websites first, I went to the TJ's website to see if there was one in that particular city. I could not imagine living where there were no Trader Joes potstickers or frozen mango chunks or frozen brown rice.

Now I live on the most happening island in the world and there is only ONE Trader Joes on the island! Impossible to believe. How can Manhattan be considered to be part of a world class city with just one TJs?

And this very crowded purveyor of everything that is good and affordable is geographically undesirable for me and so ironically I rarely enter my house of worship.

It is much like Lego or Six Feet Under: I could not imagine life without either, but then I grew up and got rid of my HBO (respectively) and I survived.

But today I was down by Union Square and went in. I was back in love. It was as if my products had been abducted in a parental dispute and here I was reuniting with them once again. They were so familiar, but I knew we had not been together in a very long time.

I wanted to grab them all and throw them in my basket. We had a lot of catching up to do. But the reality is there no car and no trunk waiting outside. I have to sherpa home what I put in my basket. I didn't want to Trader Sophie's Choice, but I had to let some products be "until the next visit." It was hard, but I managed.

Here are a few of my bundles of joy:

I know you can get this loads of places, but it is so much cheaper here and this was where we first met. I LOVE this oatmeal.

Cannot say enough about the versatility of the chunks. We do so many things together.

Some folk say this sprouted wheat pasta takes liked boiled corrugated cardboard box, but not to me. I love the stuff and so Weight Watchers Freundlich!

ClassicalTV.com

Friday night. Literary Party. Way Cool Apartment. Brooklyn.

The rain fell like so many tears, but Bob and Pat were in a joyful mood as they disembarked at Clark Street Station, brightly animated with flower vendors and commuters in motion. The damp street ahead of them was lit like a movie set complete with matte background of Brooklyn Bridge etched with fairy lights. The old red brick church behind them was respectfully silent as they ascended the stairs to Stephen's flat. Once the door opened the festive mood wafted out into the street and so the evening began.

-An excerpt from a bad short story that will never be published.


HOSTING.

I went to Brooklyn with my friend Bob to attend a cocktail party at Stephen Greco's house. Stephen is Bob's boss at ClassicalTV. It was fun at first sight. His place is beautiful and he just is one of those people who knows how to be an excellent host. It is a much-appreciated rare skill and talent. He welcomes you, asks about YOU and sells that information off so winningly to others to excite them about you as well. And he is universal about it. Plus he is fun and funny and infectious. Great food, great garden, great evening.

Stephen.

His shoes.

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PARTY.

There were loads of really nice and interesting people at this party. I felt such friendliness. Lots of journalist, editors, French people and good olives. I can have no complaints. The writer Felice Picano was in from LA and Bob and he knew so many people in common. It was vicarious fun. Felice also knows my friend Shannon Kelley. Bob's friend Eric Latsky, who is head of communications at the New York Philharmonic, was really nice and told us great stories about his trip to Zurich.

ROBERT J. HUGHES.



I think the high point of the evening for me was hearing praise for Bob as a writer. He is a very good writer in fact and deserves the praise. He was an arts journalist at the Wall Street Journal for many years and he published a very well-received novel "Late and Soon" and is currently working on other books. He also writes a great blog called "Hughes Views" for ClassicalTV.com and pieces for SmartMoney.com. Not to mention he has become a really good and valued friend and I feel lucky to have met him.


CLASSICALTV.COM

As I have written previously, I am moving away from television (working in and watching) and find myself moving more towards digital media. I love the hybrids like Hulu.com and Joost.com and the free docs on-line at Snag Films. I found ClassicalTV.com, of course through Bob. It is a really super and more specific site focusing on the arts around the globe. It is amazing what you can experience from the comfort of your own laptop. Just keep the canapes off the keyboard. Check it out.