Darlene Love Alert

Late Show with David Letterman Guests   CBS.comThis Friday marks David Letterman’s annual Christmas show, always featuring Darlene Love singing “Christmas, Baby Please Come Home.” I wait for this performance every year. Last year, as the grateful guest of Matt Scott, I watched Darlene perform it live!

There is a formula followed year-after-year, which is why I’m currently worried.

First there’s Jay Thomas. He tells the story of the Lone Ranger at a car dealership. Then a guest with something to promote comes on. Last year the beautiful, but cold as a fish, Naomi Watts. Then (after an interminable production stop while the studio gets reconfigured) Darlene, full orchestra with strings and a choir.

I checked this year’s lineup. John McEnroe, Kristen Wiig, Darlene. No Jay Thomas!

Uh, oh. This isn’t good. I’ll keep my ear to the tracks to find out what’s happened, kimosabee.

Note: See the comments for more on Jay’s absence.

I Got To See Darlene Love Live!

I’ve been spending a lot of time home recently. You can imagine. With that in mind, when Matt Scott called a few days ago and asked if I wanted to see Darlene Love perform “Christmas, Baby Please Come Home” live on the Letterman show how could I say no!

Actually, I could. That was my gut reaction. Helaine convinced me getting out of the house would be good–and it was.

We met at the Fairfield train station and caught an express to GCT. We needed to be at the Ed Sullivan Theater by 4:30 PM. Our train opened its doors on the lower level at 4:15 PM.

We ran the 1.1 miles!

It’s been a long time since I was an Olympic track star&#185, but we made it to the theater at 4:35 PM.

Uh oh. They’re strict when it comes to punctuality.

A woman who seemed in charge took mercy on us, wrote RED (with a line through it) on the back of our tickets and told us to be back at 5:10 (also, which local bar didn’t mind Late Show audience members using their bathroom)!

This was my fifth time to see David Letterman, twice at NBC and now three times at CBS. On one trip with my friend Harold I wrote how we had the worst seats in the house. Wrong! Matt and I ended up with an obstructed view in folding chairs behind the last row!

Let me pause a second. None of what I’ve written until now matters. For years I’ve raved about this particular Letterman show and how I’ve grown to love Darlene Love’s iconic performance of Phil Spector’s classic. Now I would see it live!

The show started with Jay Thomas telling his Lone Ranger story, then knocking a meatball off a Christmas tree with a football. Honest, this happens every year.

The second guest was Naomi Watts promoting her new movie, “The Impossible.” Matt and I agreed she was cold, aloof and not a very good guest.

She left, meaning it was time for Darlene’s number, but as I looked down (far down) at the studio floor there were no horns or strings or choir–all fixtures of this performance. And then, as the band played (and tape was undoubtedly stopped), stagehands set up chairs and music stands and out came the players.

Oh my God, it was magical.

I stood in the back row and sang every word with Darlene. At the point where she and the choir alternate, “please, please, please…” I threw out my pointed finger in sync with the chorus.

Whatever Darlene once had, she has retained. Her performance was magical.

The lights came up and we went to leave the theater, but before we exited Matt stopped and passed a note to Alan Kalter, who he knows. We went up to the stage and spent a few minutes chatting. He was a nice guy and quite gracious.

Matt’s two children were with the sitter, so we rushed toward Times Square in the rain, got a sandwich at GCT and caught the 8:04 express back to Fairfield.

Thank you Matt. This was among my coolest experiences ever!

Note: Darlene’s performance airs tonight (12/21/12) at 11:35 PM on CBS. Don’t miss it.

&#185 – Never.

Matt And Geoff’s Great Brooklyn/Queens Adventure

I was born in Brooklyn and went to high school there (via a bus and two subways). I figured I’d done my time. Did I have to go back?

I asked fellow meteorologist Matt Scott if he wanted to go to the city? Helaine had business on the other side of the state and I’m drawn to New York. I know Matt is too. We just didn’t know what we’d do once we got there!

Not to make a joke of it, but even as we left Connecticut we didn’t have a clue where we’d go or what we’d do.

IMG_1552.jpg“I’ve never been to Brooklyn,” he said.

I was born in Brooklyn and went to high school there (via a bus and two subways). I figured I’d done my time. Did I have to go back?

We drove over the Throgs Neck Bridge, onto the Cross Island and then the LIE.

There are signs on the Throgs Neck stating photography is strictly prohibited. At the same time on any given Saturday and Sunday the Brooklyn Bridge is infested with thousands of tourists and locals–most with cameras. What makes the Throgs Neck so insecure? Do they really think it’s a more tantalizing target than the storied Brooklyn Bridge?

I asked Matt if he’d like to see where I grew up and went to grade school? What was he going to say? I was driving!

A few minutes later we were standing in front of PS 163. The front door was propped open. A man was outside smoking a cigarette.

“I went here 50 years ago,” I began.

Shit, that makes me sound old. Luckily, I’m immature for my age.

Before long we were in the school.

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This building is the equivalent of one of the locales for MSNBC’s prison doc block! It was a school unsuited for me run by a woman I suspect hated me. From grade two to six I suffered inside.

The only saving grace was it was an amazing school for learning–even for someone who fought learning as much as I did! PS163 was firmly grounded in “tracking.” That’s the practice of grouping students of similar abilities together. Tracking has lost favor today. I’d be surprised to hear it’s used anywhere, though it certainly benefited me. I spent five years competing in a class of overachievers.

We had no gym. We had no recess. We had little outdoor activity–ever. Imagine.

There was… there still is a large room in the front of the building where, for a few years, we did some sort of cockamamie square dancing.

I was astounded to see numbers still painted high on the walls. This was where each class lined up in the case of emergency. The numbers corresponded to room numbers. This paint job is at least fifty years old!

PS163 worked out so well I asked Matt if he wanted to see Electchester, where I grew up? Again, to my surprise he said, “Yes.”

Everything looked smaller as we wound our way through the south end of Flushing. We headed to Kissena Blvd. then the LIE’s service road and up Parsons Boulevard where I lived. I put the top up on the convertible and we got out.

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I’ve used this analogy before, but these buildings (and the ones across the street at NYCHA’s Pomonok Houses) are reminiscent of the worst of Soviet style architecture! Considering the two complexes had well over 5,000 residents we were pretty devoid of amenities and services.

Because of how our individual building was turned to the street it was always much more convenient to enter through the basement which was 100% concrete and had asbestos wrapped exposed pipes and conduits. Maybe if I’d used a more formal and ‘softer’ entrance my experience would have been different. I’ll never know.

Matt and I walked around the building as I took photos. I wasn’t about to go in an see who was living in 5E where my family moved in 1953.

Stopping at these two places was amazing even though my experiences at both were sub-optimum. I decided to give Matt his trip to Brooklyn… but would he mind if we stopped at my high school?

We drove down Jewel Avenue to the Van Wyck Expressway then westbound on the LIE to the BQE. Without a GPS the rest was dependent on instinct and luck.

“See that tall antenna?” I asked Matt, pointing at a tall radio tower atop a building. “That’s my high school.”

We took the turns I thought would get us there while Matt tried to keep the antenna in sight. When we turned onto Fulton Street we were home free.

The neighborhood has really changed for the better. The brownstones on Ft. Greene Place were decrepit and often abandoned when I went to Tech. Now the neighborhood is gentrified. Don’t think of looking at a brownstone for less than seven figures.

I remember getting off the GG (now G) train at Fulton Street and walking by three bars before turning toward the school. Even at that early morning hour I remember watching drunks stumble out as I walked down the street. The bars are gone. The new stores are nice.

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Brooklyn Tech is currently surrounded by scaffolding. There’s some sort of major renovation going on. This is, after all, a school built as a stimulus project during the Great Depression. It’s aged.

We walked three sides of the immense school building stopping at every outside door to see if it was open. At the very last door we saw three men at a car. The adjacent door to the school was slightly ajar.

“Do you work here?”

New Yorker’s aren’t usually quick and free with information, but they answered yes.

“I graduated forty years ago and haven’t been back since. Can we go in?”

The boss looked at one of his workers and told him to take us in. We couldn’t stay long. There was work to be done.

No matter how large a high school you went to mine was larger! Allow me to sing.

Tech alma mater molder of men.

Proudly we rise to salute thee again.

Loyal we stand now six thousand strong.

The rest of the song is inconsequential. Six thousand boys went to Tech. That’s the important part.

Most of the school was eight stories tall with five corridors per floor. A smaller part of the building went to eleven stories. Yes, we had elevators, but you could only use them between certain designated floors.

“What’s that up there?” Matt asked looking at a glass covered area on the highest floor.

“That’s the foundry.”

Yeah, we had a foundry. In high school I poured molten pig iron! I know what a cope and drag are and how to make a wooden pattern for pouring.

Tech was where you learned to be an engineer. Our course of study was perfectly designed to fill the needs of 1940’s America. Alas, it was a little long in the tooth upon my arrival in 1964.

We stopped for a few photos in the 3,000+ seat auditorium and a look at some of the intricate work produced by government employed WPA artisans. Remember, Tech was built both as a school and as a make-work project to employ people during a horrific economic crisis.

Again, this was a great stop. I was totally shocked we’d been let in. Thank you unknown custodial staff. I appreciate your kindness.

When Matt originally mentioned Brooklyn it was because of a weekly flea market he’d read about. It was in the neighborhood and we headed right there.

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As is the case with much of New York City this flea market was a veritable United Nations. Every possible shade of skin as well as an immense variety of accents were represented. There was enough diversity to make everyone a minority.

It’s tough to describe what was being sold because so much of it was totally off-the-wall. Yes, there were books about Hitler. Yes, there was a Jesus Christ Action Figure.

“It has wheels,” said the guy trying to sell it.

Like Tech this was a bad neighborhood at one time. Not anymore. I said to myself, “I could live here,” though I’m not really sure that’s true. Certainly on this lazy summer’s afternoon it was quite lovely and inviting.

The flea market closed at five and we were back in the car heading toward the Brooklyn Bridge. Last August I’d walked the bridge with my friend Steve. I thought Matt would enjoy it too. I had only the vaguest of guesses where the bridge was as we set out.

“There it is,” Matt blurted, but he was looking at the Manhattan Bridge.

Typical out-of-towner mistake. A bridge is a bridge–right? But knowing where the Manhattan Bridge was the same as knowing where the Brooklyn Bridge was because they’re so close to each other.

We found on-the-street parking a few blocks from the entrance to the bridge’s walkway. A whole day in New York City without paying for parking! My father is proud!

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The Brooklyn Bridge provides an incredible vista from which to view the city. Crossing the East River the bridge connects Downtown Brooklyn with Downtown Manhattan. It’s about a one mile walk.

I bought a bottle of water from a vendor and we headed over.

I cannot recommend this trek enough. Looking south you see Lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty. In the distance tall cranes mark the port facilities in New Jersey.

To the north is the nearby Manhattan Bridge and a glimpse into Midtown. The Empire State Building dominates most northward views.

The East River is a working river. There’s plenty of commercial traffic though not the international fleet found on the Hudson.

There were lots of interesting looking people on the bridge, but none more interesting than the couple (by her accent, French) who found a girder with hand rails which led over the auto roadway to the edge of the bridge. It looked scary. They had just begun to head back when I spotted them.

After the bridge roundtrip we were hungry and found the Water Street Restaurant and Lounge. Surprisingly it wasn’t busy. I had a Cajun Blackened Sirloin Burger with BBQ Sauce, Andouille Sausage, Crisp Onion Ring, Cheddar Cheese. Matt had the Norwegian Lox Sandwich with Avocado, Pickled Cucumbers, Lime Mayo on Black Rye.

Good choice! Dinner was tasty.

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Our last stop was the area under the two bridges. This being the weekend there were weddings taking place with the Manhattan skyline as backdrop. When you get married down by the banks of the East River you’re inviting anyone around to stop and watch. It’s really quite sweet, romantic and frugal!

We stayed near the river until the sun went down, then headed home.

We’d set out with no firm plan and yet (even Matt will admit) had a really fun day. It was nice to go back home. It was nice to see how Brooklyn’s changed. It was good for Matt to discover Brooklyn.

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Big Deal In The TV World

Is this the beginning of the end for network TV? Maybe.

I got an email early this evening from Matt Scott, another meteorologist at the TV station.

“look at this! holy cow! – will others follow?”

There was a link to a WHDH news story… or maybe a press release. Can you actually report a news story about yourself?

BOSTON — Starting in September, you will be able to watch 7NEWS at 10 p.m. on 7NBC.

For those of you who have a hard time staying awake, Frances Rivera and Kim Khazei will bring you a full hour of local news an hour earlier, followed by 7NEWS at 11.

It’s what wasn’t said that’s most important. WHDH, Channel 7 in Boston will not be running the new Jay Leno Show at 10:00 PM. This is quite unexpected, especially in Boston, Leno’s hometown! I’m not sure exactly the totality of what it says about the future of local/network television, but I’m sure it says things are going to be very different.

NBC quickly pushed back hard. As reported in Boston.com:

“WHDH’s move is a flagrant violation of the terms of their contract with NBC,” said John Eck, president of NBC TV Network. “If they persist, we will strip WHDH of its NBC affiliation. We have a number of other strong options in the Boston market, including using our existing broadcast license to launch an NBC owned and operated station.”

Maybe they do have options, but none with the incumbent strength of WHDH. Even though WHDH’s ratings are down they still hold a lot of swagger in that market.

Here are some of the variables.

  • From NBC’s standpoint the earlier announcement of Jay Leno’s move to 10:00 PM removed an expensive hour of episodic programming, usually owned by others, for a cheap-to-produce show they own. They were willing to give up ratings with the thought their bottom line wouldn’t suffer… maybe it would even improve.
  • From the local affiliates standpoint Leno brings them reduced revenue and ratings with no reduction in cost. The assumption is the lead-in to their late local news would be lower as well, meaning Leno would cost them money in more than one hour per night.
  • Sunbeam, owners of WHDH, have a rocky history with NBC. They sued and later dropped their suit when NBC took their Miami affiliation away years ago. NBC took the affiliation because they had bought a Sunbeam competitor.

Is this the beginning of the end for network TV? Maybe.

Cable is starting to mount nearly as much first run programming as the traditional nets. The revenue model is different in cable where advertising is augmented by subscriber fees. I have been personally disappointed to see broadcast TV stations start to re-run shows that first appeared on cable.

The idea of distributing programming and bypassing local affiliates has to be enticing to the the traditional networks. They can cut out the middleman and his profit!

What do local broadcasters do? I’m not sure, but it will almost certainly have to include more, and cheaper, local programming.

From a selfish standpoint that’s not too awful for me. I could easily help a local station fill a few hours with a talk show or something else that’s aimed at a specific geographic audience.

Meanwhile I’m sure no one knows what the next step in this intricate chess game will be. Will WHDH relent? Will the networks fall apart? Will a local station admit they need local on-air talent? Who knows?

The Bris

Congratulations to Matt’s family. To Brendan, it wasn’t our idea–honest.

brendan-eli.jpgIn the Jewish religion it is tradition that boys are circumcised in a religious ceremony when they’re 8-days old. The ceremony is called a bris and is performed by a mohel. Don’t ask more. I’ve just exhausted my religious knowledge.

There are plenty of bris jokes. They’re coming.

The Jews are the world’s most optimistic people. We cut off the tip before we know how long it’s going to be.

mohel-car.jpgHelaine and I went to Matt Scott’s house today for his son Brendan’s bris. We pulled up at the curb (the scene of Stef’s famous ‘ticket and tow’) behind the car owned by the person who would perform the bris. Well, it was his car or an amazing coincidence.

There’s the story of a mohel who saved all the foreskins from his brises. He took them to a leathermaker who fashioned them into a wallet.

“A wallet,” he asked? “A lifetime’s work and that’s all you could make?”

“Yes,” answered the leathermaker, “but if you rub it, it turns into a suitcase.”

To help with the ordeal, the baby is given a very small bit of wine. I guess that tradition works. Brendan didn’t cry as long or as loud as I would have. I mean, stop and think what this poor 8-day old just went through!

Helaine and I turned our backs while the deed was done. I think we both breathed a sigh of relief that our child is a daughter.

A mohel goes to his insurance agent looking for a better deal.

“I’ve never been sued,” he said.

So the agent went looking and came back with good news and bad news.

“First the good news. I can get you a better rate. Now the bad news. There’s a 3-inch deductible.”

Congratulations to Matt’s family. To Brendan, it wasn’t our idea–honest.

My March To Justice: The Photos

Here are the three photos I’ve submitted to the Department of Traffic and Parking

Here are the three photos I’ve submitted to the Department of Traffic and Parking:


This is what Stef would have seen from her car. Most of the sign is obscured. The only part of the bottom sign showing is for “SNOW EMERGENCY” parking. From the sidewalk this sign is blocked by the bush.



If she was curious and turned around, the sign behind her is blank in this direction.



That’s the lovely and talented Matt Scott with a tape measure. It’s about five feet from the sidewalk to the bottom of the sign. It’s well below the state regulations.

All Nighter

During my short attempt at a nap, I felt our house moving in the wind. Maybe I was overly sensitive, but I can’t remember that before. I also noticed a substantial (though probably light) aluminum something, overturned on a lawn as I drove in.

Here’s a phrase Stef and I haven’t shared in a long time – “all nighter.”

I am up and at my desk, at work. It’s half past four on Sunday morning. This shouldn’t be. This is when I go to sleep!

This has been scheduled for a while. Matt Scott has the day off and we’re out of subs.

There’s little I could do to prepare As the witching hour drew near, it was obvious I wasn’t going to sleep. I tossed and turned for about half and hour before hopping in the shower and getting dressed.

The roads are quiet when you leave the house around 4:00 AM. It was nearly three miles before I saw the first car.

Dunkin’ Donuts is quiet too. There are actually two I know of that are open all night. I went out of my way to the one I felt was better lit and safer.

We had torrential downpours yesterday and strong winds since the rain left. Mother Nature is having a twig and branch sale – they’re everywhere.

During my short attempt at a nap, I felt our house moving in the wind. Maybe I was overly sensitive, but I can’t remember that before. I also noticed a substantial (though probably light) aluminum something, overturned on a lawn as I drove in.

I suppose it’s reassuring that I can push myself like this. I’m really not in that bad shape… or at least I don’t feel I am.

My bed will be very inviting at 10:30 AM

Sobering Thought

This comes from Matt Scott, not me, but I’m in total accord.

What happens if the Writers Guild strike lasts to Christmas? You know me – every year I impatiently wait for Darlene Love to sing Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home) on Letterman.

Matt wonders if they’ll come back for that one night? It’s doubtful. I’m afraid no contract, no Darlene.

That’ll really be a Blue Christmas (without you).

Come On Down


Let me tell you something about Matt Scott, fellow meteorologist at the TV station. He LOVES game shows. Matt is obsessed. That’s why it was no surprise when he asked me, last week, if I’d like to go to Foxwoods to see The Price Is Right Live tonight.

TPIR Live is an offshoot of the TV show. There’s a version playing semi-permanently in Las Vegas and another show which travels. That’s the one that was here tonight.

If he had his druthers, Matt would be hosting a game show right now. Seriously, now, as you’re reading this. Of course he’d have to fight me for it. Hell, I even offered to host a game show in Singapore (an offer that was not accepted, much to my dismay).

Frustration aside, we both thought this might be fun and it was.

The live version was hosted at the Fox Theater at Foxwoods, which seats around 1,400. We got our tickets and signed in around 5:00 PM.

Yes, you sign in. Someone really does take a Sharpie and put your name on a sticky price tag. Yes, I wore mine. Matt wore his too.

We had split for dinner (Steakhouse – excellent) and returned to the theater a little before the 7:00 PM show time. The place was packed. Up front, ushers were leading the crowd in a cross between calisthenics and cheerleading.

The Price Is Right is a show dependent on the collective power of its studio audience. This group would be primed.

At 7:00 PM the announcer came out, continuing the warm-up and keeping the audience up. Clips of Bob Barker and the long running&#176 Price Is Right showed on large screens.

A few minutes later came ‘the’ music. You know it. You can hum it. Edd Kalehoff’s timeless theme music was blasting through the theater.

And then, they came on down!

Finally, an introduction for the host, and Roger Lodge appeared. Thin and of medium height, he was wearing a dark suit and carrying a stick microphone.

It wasn’t Bob Barker, but no one minded. Lodge hosted Blind Date in syndication, so he was a reasonably known commodity. He was their celebrity host and they embraced him.

The actual show lasted over an hour and a half. Each pricing game had a new set of four contestants. Lots of people won $25 in free slot play, which was doled out like sand at the beach.

As for the larger prizes, I’m really not sure how much was given away. An excited woman won $525 on PLINKO. I wanted to yell at her when she dropped one puck from the far edge of the game.

Oh yeah, PLINKO was there as was the big wheel and that Astroturf putting green. The set, somewhat worn from travel, was a dead ringer for the on-air set (which also looks a little tired when seen live).

The show ended with the Showcase Showdown in which both contestants overbid (one by over $25,000)! Neither won the 4-day Carnival Cruise nor the Honda FIT (a car I’d never heard of before tonight). Still, the audience left happy.

It’s probably time to say nice things about Roger Lodge, and I will. He did an excellent job as the host. It’s a job that’s significantly more difficult than it looks.

You’re not only hosting, you’re the guest wrangler – trying to make sure the contestants are entertaining.

Matt had arranged for us to see the backstage area. The producer, Chris, was ready to take us when Roger appeared to join us. He could not have been nicer.

I wouldn’t have been surprised to run into jerk! This is a position that could easily attract an ass, especially after a long run on-the-road.

He was friendly and talkative and obviously proud of his body of work. I always thought he was very funny on Blind Date. He was very good at this too.

We said our goodbyes and Matt and I headed to the car.

As some sort of wannabe intellectual, I should look down my nose at tonight’s adventure. I can’t. I had a genuinely fun time. And, I spent the evening in a room with well over a thousand other people who can say the same thing.

&#176 – Long running, yes. Original, no! Price was on NBC when I was a kid, hosted by Bill Cullen.

Come On Down

I have taken the day off from work. Instead, I’ll be heading to Foxwoods Casino with my co-worker, Matt Scott.

Poker? Nope, though we both play. We’re going to see the live theater version of “The Price Is Right.”

Matt is a game show freak. There’s no other way to describe him. I’m sure he’s seen this presentation before.

All I know is, they choose their contestants from those attending and they havee Plinko.

If they choose me, I’m sunk. How can you play pricing games when you never go into stores?

I’ll let you know more tomorrow.

Bad Weather Duty

A strong line of thunderstorms slid into Connecticut this afternoon. Though no ‘watch box’ was up first, the Weather Service issued a Severe Thunderstorm Warning, then Tornado Warning, in pretty rapid succession.

I was on the air within minutes of getting into the station. I didn’t even have time to tie my tie.

I spent two hours on-the-air, assisted by Matt Scott&#185 for a while, but mostly on by myself. That’s two hours of non-stop talking… or attempting to non-stop talk.

It’s very difficult. It was made more difficult since I had to both talk and operate my computers.

I don’t want to rehash much of the two hours, but I would like to tell you about one specific moment. It was more than a little weird. Eerie is a good descriptive word.

While tracking the strongest cell at-the-moment on the radar, I zoomed in tight. My map couldn’t have shown more than a few miles on a side. At that range individual streets show up as off-white lines on the otherwise Earth toned map. The radar echo returns were bright – the sign of strong downpours.

I clicked a few on-screen boxes and pressed the left mouse button as my cursor hovered over an unmarked street. The name popped up – W TODD ST. I looked at the map and briefly stopped my rhetorical conversation.

It was my neighborhood. I could see my street, not far away.

Helaine and Stef were watching at home. I later learned, when I talked about how strong this particular storm was and how I could actually see the street where I lived on this map, they headed to the basement.

It was an out-of-body experience to realize I had inadvertently stumbled upon a storm headed toward my home. How could I not pause for a moment to collect my thoughts?

There was some storm damage in Connecticut this afternoon and evening. A tornado is suspected in New Milford based on the damage and a spotter’s report of a funnel cloud. I passed some large downed tree branches on my way home tonight.

At my house, the greatest impact was a nasty leaky from our dining room skylight. Leaks can be fixed.

&#185 – Matt came in on his own, out-of-town friend and infant daughter in tow. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that he chose to help out.

A Couple Of Guys Go To Broadway

Helaine and Stef left Saturday morning. The ‘Stalker Tour’ is on the move with Rick Springfield concerts in Boston and Laconia, NH. They’ve taken “Clicky,” my Canon Digital Rebel camera, with them.

That left Saturday as a pretty hollow day for me. Luckily, I knew someone else who was being ‘abandoned.’ Matt Scott’s wife and daughter were leaving town for Mississippi.

He and I decided to head to New York City and see a show.

If you carry a fishing pole, people just assume you’re a fisherman. If you go to a Broadway show… a Broadway musical… a Sondhein musical… they assume you’re gay! I know this because virtually everyone who heard we were going either commented or asked.

All I could think of was the time I went to the theater and stood in line behind a guy wearing a t-shirt which said, “I can’t even think straight!”

Just as there are black Republicans, there are straight guys who enjoy the theater.

Since Matt was dropping his wife and daughter at LaGuardia Airport, I took the train to the city. I would walk crosstown and we’d meet outside the theater.

Taking the train from New Haven is very easy. Unfortunately, it’s also quite a long trip. Union Station to Grand Central Terminal is around 1:45&#185. I brought the NY Times, a photo magazine and my $30 camcorder.

I didn’t have “Clicky,” but I did want to try and make a short video essay. It was supposed to be about the day in general. Unfortunately, I didn’t budget properly and my video ran out as I approached the theater!

My New York City travelogue video is at the bottom of this entry. It was entirely shot on the $30 camcorder and edited using Windows Movie Maker (included on every Windows XP or Vista computer). The music is “Look Busy” by Kevin MacLeod.

Yesterday’s show was Steven Sondheim’s Company. This is a revival of the 1970 musical about Bobby (Ra&#250l Esperza), a bachelor, the three single women in his life and his five married couple friends.

What made this musical more interesting was how it was cast. There was no orchestra pit because the actors were also playing instruments on-stage!

This must have been a casting nightmare. Finding good actors is one thing. Finding good musicians is another. But finding people who can sing, dance and act (often simultaneously) really limits your choices. I, for instance, would be 0 for 3!

With all this going, the cast was dynamite. I especially enjoyed Ra&#250l Esperza, (Bobby) who reminds me of Bradley Whitford (Studio 60, West Wing) and Angel Desai (Marta).

The show is funny, but often poignant and sad, as it traces Bobby’s life from his 35th to 36 th birthday. Being a grown-up bachelor has its good and bad points. Being single doesn’t remove you from emotional tumult.

I’d recommend going to see it, but as I type this, they are nearly an hour into Company’s last Broadway performance. Luckily, yesterday’s matin

Picture Taking

CameronMatt Scott, from the TV station, asked if I’d take some photos of his daughter, Cameron.

All I can think about is the wedding pictures my parents had taken, but never got! A friend – not a pro was the photographer. You can fill in the blanks.

Nearly sixty years later, they haven’t forgotten.

I have a new flash that I am just learning and techniques to be tested. I’m unhappy with most of the shots. The color is off. The light level seems off too. That’s the bad news.

The good news is, with digital photograph, nearly all the flaws are fixable.

Later tonight I’ll go searching for advice on using my Speedlight. right now, all I know is, attach it to the top of the camera and hope for the best. That’s not good enough.

Tech Support Times Three

I have three tech support stories to tell. Two are brief, the third is not. They all have relatively happy endings.

The first concerns a phone call I received yesterday from the company that provides much of the on-air weather equipment we use at work. We’d had a terrible problem, which they fixed. Now they wanted some log files.

The logs were needed because they fixed the problem, but weren’t sure how!

That sounds terrible, though it’s not as unusual as it seems. Points to them for asking me to send the files. These log will help them understand what they did for us, so they can do it for everyone.

The second story concerns my laptop. It is, in computer time, ancient. There’s a sticker on the front attesting to the fact that it was designed for Windows 98!

If you’re technically inclined, it’s a PII-300 with 128 mb of RAM for memory and 2 mb more for video.

If that was a meaningless blur, it’s got about the same horsepower as a tricycle.

A while ago, I upgraded it to a heavily customized version Windows XP. I carefully turned off as much as I could to preserve as much of this machine’s minimal power as was possible. It’s still a hog.

This has been a hacker machine for me. I’ve experimented with it by swapping hard drives in and out. Until today it had a tiny 8 gb drive.

With a weekend trip coming up, I wanted more storage, so I swapped in a 20 gb drive last night. Windows XP was on the drive, so I freshened some programs with newer versions and then went to reboot.

Before the power went off, Windows told me it had to install some updates… 57 updates!

Are they serious? Sure, this drive had been out of service for a while, but were there really that many updates (mostly security related) to XP? And this version had already been inoculated with SP2 and other fixes.

I took a shower while the laptop did its thing.

Tech support story three is a little more troubling. It started with phone calls from Matt Scott, one of our meteorologists at the TV station.

When he went to fire up his Dell desktop machine, it quickly crashed into a Blue Screen of Death or BSOD! The BSOD screen is cryptic, but it hinted at problems with the boot sector. That’s serious.

Before Matt got to me, he had spoken with Dell tech support. Their solution, after a few tests, was to send the drive to a forensic computer lab where, for $1,800, it could be resurrected!

He brought the PC in to work and Jeff Bailey, our webuy, began to work on it. I did some scouting around Google and found what typically causes this particular BSOD.

HINT: If you ever have a computer problem, write down exactly what’s on the screen and search for it on Google. You are not the first person with this problem. You can often find solutions just by looking. It’s very important to search for the exact words you see.

“Matt, do you have any disks that came with the PC,” I asked. My suspicion was, Dells don’t come with disks… and it hadn’t.

I went through the station looking for a Windows XP CD. Yes, what I was doing probably violates some stipulation in the end user licensing agreement – sue me.

By the time I returned with the disk, Bailey had the machine on its side. A panel had been removed from the case, exposing the innards to the world. As it turns out, that wasn’t necessary, though it makes Jeff and me look like &#252ber Geeks (as if knowing how to make a “&#252” on the screen isn’t enough).

Computer repair is modern day sorcery. You must follow a number of steps, none actually documented, before you begin to fix the trouble. We started by reconfiguring the BIOS to boot from a CD instead of the hard drive and loading XP’s recovery console.

Matt looked sheepish – fearful his pictures, video and documents were about to get trashed.

We lucked out. Matt’s problem was the same as most of the others I’d read about. It took a few hours, but slowly but surely, his computer fixed itself, rebuilding files and reconstructing the recalcitrant boot sector.

Why couldn’t the Dell tech fix this? No clue. They should be ashamed of themselves for the solution they recommended. That’s totally unacceptable.

Why doesn’t Windows XP do this on its own without demanding a disk most users don’t have? Again, no clue. Microsoft should be ashamed of that and for its often meaningless BSODs.

Bottom line – always have a geek at the ready… preferably two!

Balloons Over Albuquerque

Up early again today, but this was different. We had an appointment to fly over Albuquerque during a mass ascension at the Balloon Fiesta.

Actually, this was Helaine’s birthday gift to me. Though very apprehensive, Helaine decided she’d go too.

I’m glad to say she overcame her fears and had a great time in the air!

We were flying in a ‘small balloon.’ The wicker basket only had room for four plus the pilot. We’ve seen some that carried ten or more!

From Albuquerque B…

Our flying partners were Rachel and Roger Smith from Ft. Worth, TX. Married a year, and with Rachel clutching a new Canon Digital Rebel, they flew in just for this flight.

It was breezy as we walked out onto the field. Breeze and balloons don’t mix. At the edge of the field flags fluttered. The wind had to be at least 10 mph, maybe a little more.

From Albuquerque B…

Overhead were clouds. Yesterday the sky was a deep, pure blue. Today the blue appeared in patches. It was the perfect setup for a beautiful sunrise. The colors were just as they appear in this photo. Even the shaft of light is exactly what we saw.

We were supposed to leave at 7:00 AM, but not with the wind. The Balloon Fiesta organizers put a hold on takeoffs. In an event like this, safety has to be your only concern.

They were hopeful the wind would die down a bit. I wasn’t, so I called Connecticut and spoke to Matt Scott. He pulled up some computer data which showed the wind was already well above what was forecast.

We waited. I felt bad for the Smiths. Though Helaine and I had seen a full day of ballooning, Rachel and Roger might have to fly home with nothing!

A bit after 7:30, the word came. Today, we would fly! It was still a little breezy so the special shapes balloons, which are more difficult to control, would stay on the ground.

From Albuquerque B…

Our pilot, Al, pulled the cords starting two big gas powered fans. The balloon began to fill with air. It was environmental air and not buoyant. Then he lit the burners.

From Albuquerque B…

From cannisters in the basket’s corners, propane rushed to two gas jets. A long, slender, blue flame pushed into the envelope. The balloon began to stand.

Within a few seconds our hot air balloon looked like a hot air balloon. We got the signal and climbed in.

From Albuquerque B…

One of the coolest parts of the Balloon Fiesta is the up-close access. Anyone is allowed to walk the field and get close to the balloons… and they do.

I gave my card to a few people with nice cameras, asking if they’d take photos of our ascent. We’ll see. I don”t have high hopes.

The balloons are arranged in lines, one after another. Local volunteers, dressed like referees and referred to as “Zebras” act as air traffic controllers. With their guidance, one-by-one, the row ahead of us began to climb.

From Albuquerque B…

There was no turning back now. Our Zebra took a position a few dozen yards ahead of us, checked our flanks, turned back to us and raised her thumbs. Al turned on the jets. We were airborne.

From Albuquerque B…
From Albuquerque B…

A balloon climbs effortlessly. At first, its rise is startlingly rapid. As you get a little higher that sensation is gone.

You’re flying with the wind so there is no breeze on the passengers. I’ve flown five times now and have never experienced any bumpiness or turbulence. Mostly it’s quiet.

From Albuquerque B…

The only sound a balloon makes comes from the burst of flame applied every minute or so.

From Albuquerque B…

Looking around we could see ‘dusty patches’ below some clouds. That was rain and some of it was pretty close.

We began to lose altitude. Al picked out a spot that looked good for landing, but as we descended, the wind’s direction changed. He held the balloon aloft and searched for another spot.

From Albuquerque B…

We flew over a beautiful development of very expensive homes, on dirt roads, looking for a place to land. At a dry river bed we scraped the low brush… but Al decided this wasn’t his right landing spot.

He hit the gas.

From Albuquerque B…

Now we were flying at running speed, no higher than 50 feet above the ground. Landing spots were more difficult to find, though it really didn’t make any difference. We’d just fly until we found one.

We finally landed… on a road! The balloon tilted forward but then quickly righted itself. Someone popped out of our chase truck to stop traffic.

From Albuquerque B…

Unlike flying a ‘real’ airline, if you’re in a balloon, you help after landing. We gathered the balloon, cleared the road and drove back to the field.

Maybe it is possible to have a better flight, but I can’t see how. Helaine beamed. Not only had she overcome her fear, she had done so early enough to enjoy the flight.

We’ll spend the rest of the day doing nothing. Tomorrow we’re making a long drive: Albuquerque to Kayenta, Arizona. See you then.

From Albuquerque B…
From Albuquerque B…
From Albuquerque B…
From Albuquerque B…