Yeesburger

My Response to Today's Request for Timesheets

From: [redacted]
Subject: Timesheets

Tell me about this week … the more dramatic, the better…

I have a sort of love/hate relationship with autumn. Good summers make depressing autumns, and I had a great summer. I expected Monday to be a fiercely fall day, so when I stepped out of work for lunch and it was 90 degrees, I felt at least a small measure of relief at having been spared the cold for a day. Summer never dies as long as it’s hot and humid. Took a deep breath—hot, humid.

Tuesday came and went. I could look out the window at Central Park and stare at the expanse of leaves: green, so far. Just green. Felt like summer, but it’s not summer. I sat back, tapped at the keys, caught myself thinking about apples. Is this what people in California do? Dream of apples?

I took the subway to work on Wednesday and Thursday; I typically ride my bike, but I thought it might be a good idea to acclimate to the train (wasn’t raining, no latent cold weather hostility, and I wanted to watch a movie on my phone). On both days, I stopped for coffee near my house. I like an iced Americano. Nobody was drinking anything iced. Got a foul look from the “barista”. Screw that.

Outside the coffee shop on Thursday was a dachshund with one brown and one blue eye, sitting amidst a few dry, yellow leaves. He just sat and stared.

Today I rode my bike. It was windy. The very tops of the trees in Central Park are pale green, turning paler yellow. It’s humid, but it’s fall.

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Pre-Manhattan Manhattan

Early Manhattan

Whenever I'm walking around the Financial District or Midtown, I get caught up wondering what this place was like before the Dutch and British arrived and the city slowly overtook the all the marsh and forest. I've read about the old Collect Pond at Five Points that used to supply the city with water, the canal that is now Canal Street, and the pastoral farmland that has become Uptown; the inexorable Northbound transformation of Mannahatta into Manhattan is one of the great stories of New York. One of my private joys is trying to superimpose the old landscape over today's street grid.

This week's New Yorker has an article about an ecologist at the Wildlife Conservation Society who's embarked on a massive project to discover and depict what early Manhattan was like--including "a coffee-table book, interactive exhibits, a series of printed street guides, and a three-dimensional virtual re-creation". Consider me publicly thrilled.

There's a slideshow on newyorker.com with images from the Mannahatta Project.

(image courtesy newyorker.com and Markley Boyer / Wildlife Conservation Society)

He Was Pretty Great

Bohème 01 - Scala 1979 - Che gelida manina

At his best, he was amazing.

QotD: I Turn My Camera On

What kind of camera(s) do you own?

Well, well, well... I own a lot more than I use.

Functional, in use:

1. Canon 20D
2. Olympus Stylus Epic
   

Broken, in order of purchase:

1. Olympus D-600L
2. Canon S40
3. Canon Digital Rebel

Sitting on a shelf, because they are expensive to use:

1. Polaroid One Step
2. Polaroid i-Zone
   

Chris Onstad is Slaying.

Today at Achewood is Ray's flowchart.  One particular segment I love:

• IS IT BREAKFAST?
• EGGS B. AND A BLOODY, DOGG
• I AM AT A GAS STATION
• IS THE CASHIER HOT?
• IT'S SOME DUDE NAMED NAPIL
• HOW'S HE LOOKIN'
• HE IS UGLY
• HILARIOUS

Achewood is a perfect example of great writing made awesome by visual design. It just so happens that the great writer and the awesome visual designer are both Chris Onstad. Additional vote for greatness: Achewood had that skateboarding bulldog video just sitting in the footer well before anybody else picked up on it (I am looking at you, MySpace and Yahoo).

Am I craving Chinese food because I'm dying?

I like Philippe's flowchart.

Best Train Preacher Testimonial of 2007

On the A train this morning, from five feet away:

Bible says through Christ I can do all things! Including crack!

Pre-Launch Anxiety Dreams

1. I am running, lost, through a Cleveland hotel to deliver James Brown's guitar to him onstage, mid-performance.
2. I am a fireman, stuffed into a booth at the back of a fire truck with a stack of shovels. I am in charge of burying burning embers at the scene.
3. I have finished reprogramming the Bible and am traveling to storefront churches to ask for comments. All of them tell me there's a problem with "line 19". I tell them, invariably, that I am aware of this, and that I will fix it. Soon.
   

Well Captioned

  Psst, come here, I wanna tell you something. Closer. Closer. Closer still. I eat eyes.

Thank you, Stacey Nightmare.

How Broke?

Today's quote, courtesy of my unnamed, temporarily impoverished friend:

I can't even afford a crotch wig.