Tag: New York

The Lure Of The City

When I was a kid, this was my dream life, living in Manhattan in an apartment. That’s where the hip and successful people lived.

My friend from California called last week. As usual he waited until the last minute to tell me he was heading to New York. Sunday was his dad’s 86th birthday. Maybe we could get together. Absolutely.

My friend’s dad lives on Manhattan’s East Side. The street is Sutton Place. This is one of New York’s premiere addresses. He has two co-op apartments, bought around 35 years ago. God only knows what they’re worth today. One is a two bedroom, which he occupies. The other is a tiny but sweet studio apartment.

I’ve been coming to this building a few times a year for over three decades. A New York City rarity, there’s a protected plaza out front where cars and taxis can pick-up or discharge. At one time it was a “full service building.” That means beside a 24/7 doorman there was an elevator operator–though it was a standard push button elevator. The common areas are spotless and tastefully decorated. This is old money elegance, not nouveau riche flash.

The dad’s apartment is on the building’s wing. He has a view of the East River, but not from everywhere and not looking straight ahead. From the small balcony, the river is off to one side. You can also see much of Brooklyn and Queens and the eastern half of the 59th Street Bridge.

Driving the Connecticut Turnpike on Sunday afternoon can be very slow. No exception to that rule on this trip! The day was perfect however and I went the distance with the convertible top down taking the Turnpike to the New England Thruway, Bruckner Expressway, Triboro Bridge and then down the FDR Drive. I drove under the 59th Street Bridge then off at 53rd Street.

IMG_1305.JPGI slowed down enough to photograph the “Cameras Prohibited” sign on the Triboro. Still a rebel.

My friend, who’s recently lost a substantial amount of weight, wanted to go to Bloomingdales for a belt. Why not? It’s open until 7:00 PM Sundays and there is an 11% rebate to out-of-state shoppers. Bloomie’s is about a ten minute walk crosstown and, like I said, the weather was perfect.

Walking into Bloomingdales is to relive the 50s! At each door from the street stood a “floorwalker,” wearing a suit with pocket square. It’s the antithesis of the greeter at Wal*Mart. The sales counters all had two or three sales people, each well dressed, waiting to help.

This is no discount store. Make no mistake, you’re buying quality goods–pricey quality goods. You’re paying for impeccable service and you get it.

We headed back toward the apartment for dinner with his dad and his dad’s girlfriend. She ordered sushi from a nearby restaurant. Manhattan is the only place in the world where every apartment has 24 hour room service!

Joe, he’s the birthday boy, is a compact man. At 86 he is trim–a common trait of Manhattan residents who spend a lot of time walking. He owned a business just across the river in an industrial section of Queens. Now he’s living a very good life; going to the opera, symphony and theater and eating in fine restaurants. His hearing isn’t what it once as, but other than that he’s as sharp as can be.

His girlfriend is younger than he. A retired high school principal (the local school I should have gone to), she is charming and attractive. She lives two floors directly above Joe–geographically desirable!

When I was a kid, this was my dream life, living in Manhattan in an apartment. That’s where the hip and successful people lived. I never thought about the lack of space or privacy or noise or even the smells that can permeate apartment hallways when others are cooking. I never thought about the difficulty of going shopping. I was an apartment dweller and knew nothing about a private home. Manhattan wasn’t a step up, it was all the way up.

I took a few minutes to walk Sutton Place before heading to the basement garage to fetch my car. I stopped at a vest pocket park on a narrow sliver of land across the street. There’s an interesting piece of public sculpture sitting there with a compass rose at the base and zodiac on top . It’s unprotected and unmolested in this very special neighborhood.

Heading To The City

This particular building features a bunch of name droppable tenants–not that I’ll be hanging with them.

perfect-august-day.jpgThis house is quiet. I am alone. Yet I’m still able to mess it up. How does that work? When here, is Helaine really following me around with a dust pan and schmata? I shudder to think.

I’ve got laundry going now. Towels are done. Sheets are just entering the ‘system.’ Why does drying take so much longer than washing?

A friend from California is visiting his dad on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Even in New York’s most depressing days it was quite the neighborhood. This particular building features a bunch of name droppable tenants–not that I’ll be hanging with them. I head out to visit him in an hour or so.

Meanwhile, it’s beautiful today–as uncharacteristic and August day as you might find. The Sun is beaming over pure blue skies. Pollution, haze and humidity have taken the weekend off. I’m thinking about taking the drive to Manhattan with the top down. On a long trip that’s often more appealing in the abstract than practice.

My Friday Nighttime At Nightline

The Nightline set is, to be kind, tiny. The street traffic behind the anchor plays off a server and is shown on a rear projection TV. Is nothing real?

When I came to WTNH the director of our evening newscasts was a young guy named Jeff Winn&#185. He had the thankless task of directing our newscasts on a chromakey set. This is much too complex to explain here except to say any mistake Jeff made was glaringly obvious to even a casual viewer. It was that obvious. Luckily, Jeff was good at what he did. Mistakes were few.

He left us and went on to bigger things. Again, too complex to explain here, plus if I thought about his career versus mine I’d openly weep. Jeff has seven Emmys, as do I. His are the much larger, heavier, impressive, national ones. Jeff won most of them directing “Real Sports” on HBO. He still does that on a monthly basis.

Jeff’s day night job is directing ABC News Nightline. Originally Ted Koppel’s nightly wrap-up of the Iranian Hostage Crisis and then a daily single subject half hour of hard news, Nightline post-Ted is flashier, lighter and more feature oriented. It’s also stronger in the ratings than it’s been in years, recently beating Letterman.

I’ve been meaning to watch Jeff direct for years but never had the chance. I went last night.

The drive to New York was speedy and without incident until the Bronx. What had been a wide open highway became a slow moving bumper-to-bumper grind. I broke free, headed down the West Side Highway and pulled into an open and totally legal parking space on Columbus Avenue directly across the street from ABC’s entrance.

Really–I found legal on-street parking in Manhattan. I’m available for autographs later.

When Nightline first went to its rotating three anchor configuration it came from a windowed studio above Times Square. Even now you can watch the traffic behind the anchor. Don’t be fooled (as I was). They moved around a year ago and now come from TV-3, the same studio as World News with Charlie Gibson. The Nightline set is, to be kind, tiny. The street traffic behind the anchor plays off a server and is shown on a rear projection TV. Is nothing real?

For much of the evening Jeff is ‘on a leash,’ even when there’s nothing to do. If a major story broke, he would direct live coverage across the full network. That is no small responsibility. ABC has standby staff just-in-case 24/7.

We took the grand tour to the control room passing through Nightline’s sparsely staffed offices. Most of the action happens here during the day. The show is anchored live, but the packages are mainly pre-produced at a more convenient hour. TV work isn’t as glamorous when you consider so much of it is “second shift.”

ABC’s New York headquarters is a confusing collection of mainly connected buildings on Manhattan’s West Side between 66th and 67th from Columbus Avenue to Central Park West. There are a few apartment buildings interspresed, but most of the block is ABC’s.

Back when I did some freelance work at the network (weather fill-ins on Good Morning America–you never call anymore–I’m crushed) I never ventured far from my studio (TV-2) lest I get lost! In some of the interconnections the floors don’t even line up!

The control room itself is very impressive with two rows of arena type seating, a few individual positions farther back and a separate audio booth. The production crew face a winged wall of large high definition flat panel monitors. Each monitor is split to show individual inputs as needed. Most are pretty standard cameras and servers, but I also saw tie-lines to Washington and Europe (feeding Arab language broadcasts back to New York last night).

Jeff sat down and with the technical director and assistant director went through the show’s scripts page-by-page making sure each input was properly marked and available. As far as I could tell only one small change was made during this run-through. A courtesy font for a photograph came positioned over the person’s face. It was moved to air in a less intrusive spot.

As 11:35 PM approached more and more people drifted in. By airtime there were around a dozen people at work. Actually, the show starts 15 seconds early as an animated countdown streams to the network. I’m hoping that’s a tradition carried over from the good old days, because by now the affiliates had better have synchronized clocks, wouldn’t you think?

One floor down Martin Bashir anchored. His only contact with the upstairs crew was electronic. I enjoyed when he read about someone being taken to the hospital and in his British English left out the article “the.” “He was taken to hospital,” was what the audience heard.

The show was flawless… at least it looked flawless to me. In many ways the production resembled a local newscast, but with longer packages, no live shots and more help. The producer even shuffled extra promo content in to help fill the show’s scheduled time.

Jeff and the team were relaxed and playful as the show aired. These are people working together every night. They know their jobs and at this level I suspect screw-ups aren’t tolerated long.

A little after midnight we were done.

&#185 – Our other director was Tom O’Brien, who moved out of directing to sales and then management. He is now general manager at WNBC in New York after a long stay as GM at KXAS Dallas.

The Other Geoff Foxes

I grew up thinking I had this name to myself. Another childhood fantasy gone bust.

I suppose I’m lucky to have GeoffFox.com as my own. As obscure as my name might seem, there are lots of us Geoff Foxes around. More than I ever realized!

There’s Geoff Fox who’s a newspaper reporter in Florida. Tampa Geoff, you’ll be glad to know, I specifically exclude your byline from my “Geoff Fox” Google search. Otherwise, you’d overwhelm me.

There’s an author named Geoff Fox who lives (or lived) in Brooklyn, NY. He owns GeoffreyFox.com. Damn! I could have had that too. To say he is a prolific author is an understatement!

Also up there in the impressivosity (not a word, but it should be) Dr. Geoffrey Fox from Indiana University. Dr. Fox is a professor (whereas I am closer to Gilligan) in the Department of Computer Science, School of Informatics. What exactly is informatics?

The most famous Geoff Fox is probably the guy who owns Fox Racing–well known in motocross circles. He could probably buy and sell us all.

This all comes up because my forward searching brought me news of Geoff Fox who did quite well at the Worcestershire UK Golf Club’s Captain’s Day. Good at golf? He’s no relative of mine.

I grew up thinking I had this name to myself. Another childhood fantasy gone bust.

WLNG The Radio Anachronism

They want to hear 10 minutes of commercials and six or seven jingles sandwiched between two marginal hits that haven’t gotten any radio play in 35 years.

wlngnewlogo_sm.jpg

Imagine you were tuning around on your car radio when all of a sudden one station came to you from out of the sixties. I’m not talking music as much as sound and style–right out of the sixties!

There is such a station and Helaine and I listened to it while we drove home along the Connecticut shoreline tonight. It is WLNG 92.1 in Sag Harbor, NY.

While I was still in high school, my friend John Wells and his parents invited me to their summer home, a little cottage on Shelter Island at Long Island’s east end. I first heard WLNG, then on 1600 AM, on that trip. Even in the late sixties WLNG was an anachronism.

No station in the history of broadcasting has done more remote broadcasts from appliance stores and drugstores and tiny parades with few spectators. No station runs more long and tedious public service announcements recorded over the phone. No station has, or plays, more jingles. No station plays more obscure music.

Last night on WLNG we heard “Goodbye” by Mary Hopkin and Donny Osmond’s version of “Hey Girl.” There were a few other songs too obscure for me to identify and I was a disk jockey on oldies stations for all of the seventies. This afternoon, while we were heading to Sleeping Giant, they played “Deck of Cards,” the 1950s ‘talkie’ song with a Christian theme by Wink Martindale (listed on the label as Win). I can virtually guarantee no other station in America is playing this song.

WLNG is in mono. Honest. Are there any commercial FM stations other than WLNG that don’t broadcast in stereo? As I understand it, then general manager Paul Sidney wanted the station to sound louder. The laws of physics make mono 3db louder than stereo.

Paul Sidney is another anachronism of WLNG. He is totally unflappable when on-the-air, usually broadcasting on-location, because he’s already experienced every on-air screw-up and failure possible. There is nothing smooth or polished about Paul. As you listen, you might think he’s on-the-air for the first time. Surprise, he’s been on WLNG 45 years!

I can’t think of any station with less employee turnover than WLNG. Many of their staffers have been there since the sixties and seventies. That’s unheard of. The morning man’s been there since 1964, another disk jockey since 1975. Paul Sidney’s been there even longer.

Any time I’ve ever had a friend in radio visit they always want to listen to WLNG. They want to hear 10 minutes of commercials and six or seven jingles sandwiched between two marginal hits that haven’t gotten any radio play in 35 years.

God, I love WLNG.

The Geekiest Thing I’ve Ever Done

We received a yellow pay envelope every week with tax info written on the outside and your salary, in dollar bills and coins, on the inside.

Have you ever had an idea pop into your head for no apparent reason? I’m talking some totally disjointed event that has nothing to do with anything and just moved itself into your conscious brain. It just happened to me. I just remembered the geekiest thing I ever did. Ever!

My first job working with adults was at Sears Roebuck in Flushing. New York isn’t a particularly “Sears” type of place. The store was small and ill suited for Downtown Flushing&#185. Sears has no stores this size anymore. The store was designated 4524, a B3a class store.

We received a yellow pay envelope every week with tax info written on the outside and your salary, in dollar bills and coins, on the inside.

I worked at the credit desk, catalog sales and customer service. One summer I ran shipping. That was fun. A few times I answered the switchboard.

It was an old timey switchboard with Bakelight switches and rubbery cords covered in fabric. In the forward right corner was a dial without a phone. The operator wore a headset with large earpiece and heavy duty microphone. This was pre-miniaturization.

“Good afternoon, Sears. May I help you?” Back then, to me, a switchboard was an iPhone. Savvy?

Long distance was expensive. No problem for me. I had no need for toll calls since I didn’t know anyone outside New York City, or more accurately, Brooklyn and Queens. Still, I had a desire to make a call somewhere.

Sears had a national network of tie-lines, linking various regional headquarters together. My guess was, it was flat-rate so it wasn’t closely monitored for use. I started looking at the internal company phone book.

It turned out you could dial a routing code and, voila, you were in Chicago or Boston or some other center. You’d hear “click,” and then their dialtone. I know. I tried. You could even dial-9 and get an outside line in Chicago or wherever.

My goal was to dial from one regional office to another and then another, ad nauseum. I’d go as far as Sears would take me. That’s how one afternoon with nothing better to do, I called myself.

From Flushing, I called North Jersey, where our credit accounts were held, then routed myself to Chicago then Detroit. I don’t remember the rest except it was a long list. As each additional leg was added, the sound quality became more watery It was all one call, but taking a ridiculous route through mechanical switches and low grade analog voice lines.

It took a few tries. A few times unidentified lines in the center of my call would drop, forcing me to start over. Still, I achieved my goal. By late afternoon I’d made my other line ring from a call that traveled the entire country and then some.

My wife and daughter will undoubtedly not be impressed. Back then, this was quite the geeky achievement. I’m still kinda’ proud.

I have no idea why it came to me tonight.

&#185 – The Flushing Main Street subway station is consistently the busiest outside Manhattan. It is a thriving downtown, teaming with mostly Asian immigrants and virtually indistinguishable from Bangkok or Hanoi.

Changes Through My Life

That’s an important point not to be missed. Many things that did exist have been democratized by sharply falling prices.

When I was a kid, I’d ask my parents what their life was like growing up. I heard their words and knew their world was quite different. I never fully understood how much things had changed.

They listened to the radio, which was programmed like television… well, like television used to be when it was dominated by scripted programs. “We used our imaginations,” my mother would say. I’m sure they did. That kind of radio didn’t stand a chance when TV came along.

I was reading an article in the paper tonight which, reminded me of those conversations with my folks and made me think of how I’d answer that question today. How has the world changed since my childhood?

A short list of things that didn’t exist, or weren’t available to me:

  • Computers
  • Microwaves
  • Satellites/Astronauts
  • Cable TV
  • Remote Control
  • Affordable long distance phone service
  • Affordable airfare
  • VCRs/DVRs
  • Any digital media
  • Touchtone phones
  • Seatbelts/Padded Dash/Crumple Zones
  • Transistors/ICs/LSI
  • Fruit in the winter
  • Single Serve Bottled Water
  • McDonalds, etc
  • Family safe/friendly Times Square
  • Answering machines/Voicemail
  • Credit Cards

I looked around the room while I typed that. So many of the things I’m looking at were unavailable or unaffordable to most people.

That’s an important point not to be missed. Many things that did exist have been democratized by sharply falling prices. Nothing is more amazing than what’s happened to long distance rates.

In 1950, New York-LA, 5 minute call: $3.70, 10 minute call: $6.70. Tack on inflation and New York-LA, 5 minute call in 1950, in 2003 dollars: $28.19, 10 minute call: $51.04!

Businesses needed workers a lot more back then. Workers are expensive. Bosses looked to replace as many as they could. They couldn’t. We weren’t in competition with China. Hell, we weren’t speaking to China. International shipping was a nightmare.

My parents made their younger years sound romantic. That’s not what I see when I look back. There’s little of anything I’d want reverted to its original state. Today is better than yesterday.

People are scared of terrorism today, but we were scared of the Soviets and “the bomb.” Are the potential consequences really any different? Do they hate us any less?

I don’t know where the next changes will come from, but there’s no doubt more innovation is on the way. The long term future is unpredictable. Maybe that’s what makes it so much fun.

A Listener 30 Years Removed

I’m pretty flattered anyone would remember, much less have me in their aircheck collection. I haven’t been on WPEN in 30 years!

Here’s an email I got earlier this evening:

Hi Geoff:

I remember you as being one of the best DJs on 95PEN. I think you were also a ham operator.

Anyway I have some airchecks of you and would love to swap some or if you don’t have any I can send you what I have. I always enjoyed your wit and humor in your delivery. I have since moved to Virginia for a change of pace.

Take Care……….Steve West

I wrote Steve and told him where the one aircheck on this site is hidden.

I’m pretty flattered anyone would remember, much less have me in their aircheck collection. I haven’t been on WPEN in 30 years!

I did some of my best work at 95PEN. It was a more innocent time. Morning shows weren’t as developed back then. We did have great jingles (thanks Jon) and played lots of oldies.

I’d like to be that last-one-called, emergency fill-in person at CBS-FM in New York. Radio is still in my blood.

The Announcer Who Wasn’t There

The scores and stats were real, but the flavor of the game was totally the product of Keiter’s imagination.

I was talking with Chris Velardi (anchor/reporter) at the station tonight.

He’s a big Mets fan, so I found it necessary to remind him of their current plight. I’m like a sixteen year old in this regard.

I talked about our MLB video purchase and then he trumped me – he actually bought a minor league video package. Chris Velardi – you are hardcore!

Pretty soon the conversation moved to an announcer I remembered from when I was a kid. Hopefully my dad will leave a comment, because he’s the reason I know this guy.

Back in 1958 (when I was 8), the Giants moved from New York to San Francisco. What had been a three team town, was left with the Yankees alone.

You’ve got to remember – neither team (NY Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers) left because of lack of support. They just got much better deals out-of-town. There was plenty of pent up National League interest and support in New York.

One radio station, WINS, decided it would make the best of the situation and continue to broadcast the Giants’ games. Instead of sending announcers out with the team, then paying for a remote line, they put Les Keiter in the studio.

I remember hot summer nights, driving in the car with my dad. The windows were rolled down. The radio was on. It was a summer of Mays, McCovey and more than one Alou. Juan Marichal was becoming a genuine ‘phenom’.

Keiter worked with a background loop of crowd noise&#185, the sound of a bat, and a reasonably steady stream of wire service reports. He recreated the games.

The scores and stats were real, but the flavor of the game was totally the product of Keiter’s imagination.

Alas, the experiment didn’t last. That Marichal was covered meant it went at least to 1960.

Maybe Les Keiter’s call wasn’t as exciting as the real thing, or maybe New Yorker’s got the message the Giants weren’t coming back and lost interest. The broadcasts ended. Keiter moved on. The Yankees went back to being the only game in town.

Les Keiter is in his 80s now, retired in Hawaii. He spent a few seasons recreating the games of the Hawaiian minor league team.

He’s why I still remember most of the names from the ’58 San Francisco Giants and why I missed a departed team I was really too young to remember.

&#185 – The crowd noise loop was much too short to be used every day, especially with an irritating and predicably timed, “woo hoo” every few minutes.

Something Special In The Air

The part of this that upsets me the most, is the way the airlines look at customers. Airline ticketing policies and contracts are one-sided, and often arbitrary and unreasonable (like one way fares often costing more than roundtrip). Their advertising does its best to hide full disclosure.

“We’re American Airlines, something special in the air.”

For years, that jingle played incessantly on radio and TV. No more.

If American has a slogan now, I don’t know it. There’s none on their website’s homepage. They surely don’t have the balls to dust off ‘something special’ right now.

Aircraft Inspections Affect Some AA Travel

We are very sorry for inconveniencing you with the cancellation of a portion of American Airlines’ flights which started on April 8. Additional inspections of our MD-80 fleet are being conducted to ensure precise and complete compliance with the FAA’s directive related to wiring in the aircraft’s wheel wells. For more information about the progress of the inspections, please check our Press Releases. Please be assured that safety of our customers is, and always will be, American’s first priority.

You know how companies that put you on hold often say, “Your call is important to us,” even when you know it’s not? I feel the same way&#185 about, “Please be assured that safety of our customers is, and always will be, American’s first priority.”

Do they really think I’m buying into that gratuitous throwaway?

My friend Farrell’s relatives, visiting from Israel, were scheduled to fly AA from New York to Palm Springs. They got as far as Dallas… took a long pregnant pause at DFW… then continued to LAX (a few hours drive from Palm Springs).

Their bags? Right. This isn’t a fair tale. They followed two days later.

When I last left them, my sister-in-law and her friend were arguing with the AA clerk because AA promised $100 p/day p/person for clothing or necessities. AA since retracted that. In the meantime, Vered (Farrell’s wife) had taken the four of them to shop yesterday since they only had carry-on (my advice was to pack as much as possible in their carry-on’s).

I think we’re in the process of watching a meltdown of the so-called “legacy” airlines. With Frontier going bust, since its creditor would not support the majority of their cash, and the merger chatter going on, it’s a matter of time before prices continue to rise and consolidation becomes an actuality.

Please don’t think it’s only American I’m upset with. I’m still smarting from Southwest’s cavalier attitude toward safety inspections, and they’ve been my airline of choice for years.

The part of this that upsets me the most, is the way the airlines look at customers. Airline ticketing policies and contracts are one-sided, and often arbitrary and unreasonable (like one way fares often costing more than roundtrip). Their advertising does its best to hide full disclosure.

Why would they expect us to respect them or have brand loyalty when they so obviously dislike us?

&#185 – “I take full responsibility” goes on that list as well, especially when said by a CEO taking non responsibility.

The Unknown State

There’s a website with a little game, challenging you to name all 50 states. I sight read maps for a living. I just wanted to race the clock.

A little under four minutes later, I was finished. I clicked on the results to see how others had done. That”s when I got a real shock.

Below you will find the most forgotten (or perhaps mispelled&#185) U.S. States, as well as how your score stacks up against everyone else who took this quiz.

Texas was the most recognized state. 98.4% of the respondents picked it out correctly. Then came California, Washington and New York.

I looked for Connecticut. Zip.

But it was there! We are the very last entry on the list – number 50!

Connecticut was identified (and correctly spelled) by only 77% of those playing. We were right below the difficultly spelled Massachew… Massatu… You know, the state to the north of us.

We were even outdone by Mississippi. Oh, the humanity.

&#185 – They misspelled misspelled!

About Those Cameras

I have a suggestion: make the cameras available to everyone. Seriously. If they’re looking at a public space, open them up. Put them on the Internet or put them on the cable TV feed that goes to this project. Someone will watch!

It’s a terrible story from New York. A woman, walking in a Brooklyn housing project is grabbed and then raped by someone she believes is from the neighborhood. Though the housing project is blanketed by 200 cameras, police see nothing.

From the New York Daily News:

The knife-wielding predator was caught on various cameras following the woman into an elevator, and then forcing her up the stairs, sources said.

The sicko was caught on up to 30 minutes of video, but only about two-and-a-half minutes actually played on the monitors cops were watching, sources said.

“Either they saw it and did nothing, which seems hard to believe, even for this unmotivated crew. Or they were busy looking at something else. Or they were asleep, which seems most likely,” said a police source familiar with the lapse.

It’s a tragedy and, unfortunately, far from an isolated incident.

Surveillance cameras should be a deterrent, but they really aren’t. Often, all they provide is a retrospective look at what was missed.

I have a suggestion: make the cameras available to everyone.

Seriously. If they’re looking at a public space, open them up. Put them on the Internet or put them on the cable TV feed that goes to this project. Someone will watch!

Actually, it shouldn’t be limited to these housing project cameras. If they’re publicly funded and looking at a public space, every camera possible should be made available.

There are cameras all over New Haven (as an example). I have no idea where they go or who, if anyone, is monitoring. Put them on the Internet!

As with cellphones, which have undoubtedly saved lives as accidents and incidents are more easily and more rapidly reported to police, the democratization of cameras will achieve the same result.

If this idea seems half baked or invasive to you, please post a comment and let me know. Right now, I think I’m on to something.

The Undulling Of Albany

It’s now been revealed, New York’s newly inaugurated governor, David Paterson, has admitted to extra marital affairs with a number of different women.

When confronted, Paterson responded, “I may be married, but I’m not… Oh, never mind.”

Blogger’s note: OK – it’s cheap humor and probably in bad taste, but I wrote it.

Email When Friends Are On-The-Road

Hopefully Wendie won’t mind as I share some of her Japanese trip with you. She’s a very learned woman… but she doesn’t capitalize. I’m going to leave these as sent.

My friend Wendie is somewhere between Tokyo and New York. She’s on her way back to Miami via JFK after a week long trip to Japan.

Yeah, I’m jealous.

Though Wendie didn’t bring a computer with her, she did keep her friends and family up-to-date by sending daily emails. I’m not sure if she stopped at Internet cafes or used a PC at her hotel. Whatever the method, it worked.

I find these on-the-road messages some of my favorite emails, not only from Wendie, but from any travelling friends. I hope you feel the same way when I post on the blog during my vacations.

Hopefully Wendie won’t mind as I share some of her Japanese trip with you. She’s a very learned woman… but she doesn’t capitalize. I’m going to leave these as sent.

Day One:

i’ve already scoped out the area around the hotel.. it’s called shinjuku.. lots of shops, a massive train/subway station.. and found an ATM that took my

u.s. card and spit out the proper amount of yen.. then even gave me my card back..

what more could you want!

Day Two:

i did the “city tour” thing.. ended up sitting next to a nice woman from north carolina. so, at stop number 3 we ditched the tour, and ended up exploring a fabulous neighborhood calls asakusa… we found these amazing plastic food stores, and yes, i did buy plastic sushi… but only a few pieces, it’s really expensive! then we took the subway back to the neighborhood we’re staying at, grabbed a snack..

Day Three

it’s been a busy day….at the crack o’ 5:45 am i went down to the tsukiji fish market.. a massive market complex on the river here.. and it was amazing.. they hold a huge tuna auction every morning that is closed to visitors, but once it’s over, thousands of vendors set up shop selling fish, food, and just about everything else. there are bunch of teeny little restaurants all through this complex that sell sushi or ramen.. and i stopped into one of them for the best tuna sushi i’ve ever eaten…it was awesome.. i have a ton of pictures of the market… excellent photo op.

Day Four

so… if you go to mt. fuji… but you never actually view mt. fuji, because it’s snowing, the entire region is socked in with fog, and the road to the 5th station (halfway up the mountain) is closed due to ice, so you can only go to the first station … can you claim to have seen mt. fuji? or is the more proper response to say you have BEEN to mt. fuji.

Day Five

in kyoto. getting here was great.. the bullet train was a blast..nothing

like going 257 kilometeres an hour through the japanese countryside.. it was terrific.. and just 2 quick hours from odawara to kyoto… kyoto is very different from tokyo… no high rise buildings, and many shrines and temples clustered together.. plus, a wierd train

station that is either a fabulous example of modern architecture.. or… a horrible depiction of wierdness.. depending on your point of view.

Day Six

this morning i played tourist, visiting a magnificent shinto shrine.. the “golden pavillion”.. which is in fact covered in gold.. it’s a gorgeous day, weather wise, and it has been a lot of fun. tonight is going to be interesting.. it’s a night at a ryokan, or japanese inn… it’s in the gion section of kyoto… the geisha section… so my bed will be a tatami mat! tomorrow i am doing an afternoon tour outside of kyoto to nara… which is about an hour away and has one of the world’s largest bronze buddhas… note to all.. when you come to japan be sure to try the green tea ice cream.. it’s fabulous!

Day Seven

yesterday was terrific… the ryokan was in a wonderful, old area of kyoto

and we wandered around and stumbled on a massive shinto temple complex with a park… it was sunday afternoon, gorgeous weather.. and the place was packed with families enjoying the day… lots of adorable kids.. the japanese love children, and i have had the best time playing peek-a-boo with kids everywhere.. on the bullet train, in the parks, in stores… even with no common language, making a child laugh is universal… the whole afternoon was .. well, i:ve pretty much run out of adjectives..

That’s just a taste. I only plucked a short snippet from each day’s email. I think it’s enough for you to get a real feel for her journey.

I can’t wait to see the photos and talk with Wendie to hear more.

Across The Universe

I was young, aimless and idealistic. I was frightened of the life I faced, even without Vietnam. But I was hip. I understood the culture as it was. And I was right in the middle of it.

There’s this misconception in the Fox household: I’m not hip.

OK, maybe I’m not as hip as I once was, but I was hip. Doesn’t that count for anything?

We just finished watching “Across the Universe.” Stef had seen it once before and wanted Helaine and me to see it too.

Helaine liked it. I did not.

Abba’s “Dancing Queen,” with better music and a darker plot line was my first thought. That’s much too simple assessment, I suppose. Still, this seemed more concept driven than plot driven.

Maybe I also reacted to this treatment of a life I knew. What fulfilled me then, today I find somehow hollow.

So much of that movie was my life. Of course, it isn’t my life anymore.

Maybe my age driven change from who I was in the sixties is why I couldn’t enjoy what I watched?

I lived through the sixties. I went to the Fillmore East and hung out in the Village. I marched against the war in New York, Boston and Washington. My hair was long and pockets empty.

I was young and idealistic. I was frightened of the life I faced, even without Vietnam. But I was hip. I understood the culture as it was. And I was right in the middle of it.

Life is organic. It unfolds around you. You don’t necessarily choose to participate. You are chosen.

That’s what I didn’t understand back then. Who you become is based on what you experience. So my experience changed me as our culture evolved in its own way.

So, yeah, I am hip. But I’m hip in a 1969 kind of way.