I have a truly interesting extended family. I need to address this now, since I have put the blog address out there and they might be checking in to see what the good Doctor and Soupy have to say.
We are basically broken up into three groups, with some subsets. The first group are the Noisy Natterers. Extroverts, who are always on, and enjoy the spotlight. a subset of this are those who NEED, instead of just enjoy, the attention and constant affirmation therefrom.
The second group are the Silent Spectators. Those who are content to sit on the side and watch the show, but trust me, they have opinions, and if you hit the right buttons, they can blow you away with both their thoughts and the vehemence behind them. After all, they are all "Greunkerns".
The Third group are the Grouchy Grumps. This is a very proud group, that revels in their orneriness about the family and life in general. They even have hats! However, some are not as contrary as they like to pretend, and some of the other groups would fit in this one as well. Take me, for instance, I could be known as G., the Grouchy Grump Greunkern, or G4. A nice ring, I think.
All in all, an interesting bunch. I am truly blessed to be related to these people.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Quick Takes
Here's proof ( as if you needed it) that G-d rules the world. Who would you have bet on: Len Bias or Mr. Yamaguchi?
It is inconceivable that a starving tenth rate nation can threaten and cow the world's two greatest economic and industrial powers with their threats. North Korea can do so because it holds South Korea hostage to its plans. It's time that Obama, untested as he is, ends this terrorism forthwith using massive power if neccessary.
AIG employees and the teachers' union have a lot in common. They both don't believe in performance standards or merit pay.
Climate change has become an obsession - the primary article of faith for a worldwide secular religion known as environmentalism. - Paraphrase of a statement by professor Freeman Dyson of Princeton from the New York Times magazine.
It is inconceivable that a starving tenth rate nation can threaten and cow the world's two greatest economic and industrial powers with their threats. North Korea can do so because it holds South Korea hostage to its plans. It's time that Obama, untested as he is, ends this terrorism forthwith using massive power if neccessary.
AIG employees and the teachers' union have a lot in common. They both don't believe in performance standards or merit pay.
Climate change has become an obsession - the primary article of faith for a worldwide secular religion known as environmentalism. - Paraphrase of a statement by professor Freeman Dyson of Princeton from the New York Times magazine.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Travels in Texas
You all know how I love the high plains of the Texas panhandle. Its sweeping, cattle dotted views to the horizon, its uncongested roads straight as laser beams, its grain elevators towering above the plains filled with the produce of a rich land, its oilfield jacks, its windmill farms, its center pivot irrigation booms marking out green circles on a dun colored background. It contains all the elements of the agricultural and energy sectors of the US economy. There is little difference between its large towns and open country for even within town limits there are vast open spaces, and Amarillo's Monday morning rush-hour is less crowded than early Sunday morning in the suburbs of the Northeast.
When I mention to the good people of this area that I am going to Houston, they wrinkle their noses as if to say that it's much too crowded there. Things are, as always, relative. I once mentioned to someone that I preferred Houston to Dallas and the reply was that while Dallas was a real city, Houston was just a cow town. I guess I like cow towns.
Houston's appeal to me is that despite its being one of the largest cities in America after (New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago) it is the most uncity city I have ever been in. A low roof line, typically only 2 stories defines the place. There are of course, many skyscrapers, the largest being the 60 story Williams Tower, and many three story apartment complexes all of which do not disturb the sense of openness and space I am used to from the plains. Almost all the buildings, low and tall have generous setbacks and abundant vegetation separating them from the concrete of sidewalk and street. The highways are lined with industrial and office buildings of all types, old and new, all with much open space surrounding them. Except for some persistent trouble spots, the traffic flows quickly and smoothly. As in most Texas cities, the freeways are built at level, service roads alongside, and the main roadway bridges the major intersecting streets. This allows for traffic flow through all the neighborhoods, largely due to the innovation which allows a U-turn from the service road without the need for turning at the intersection and waiting for two lights.
An anomaly that has always piqued my curiosity I can only attribute to something left over from an earlier time. In an area criscrossed by a freeway and a tollway, exit and entrance ramps, along a wide street bordered on both sides by empty land bereft of pedestrian traffic, sits an old rundown house with an off-ramp wall just behind it and a freeway overhead. Every time I pass it, I wonder how it came to be in this otherwise uninhabited place.
It is in fact, a well known Houston restaurant, Bubba's Texas Burger Shack. It looks as though it started out as a private house on a fair bit of land. Its subsequent history remains a mystery to me.
When I mention to the good people of this area that I am going to Houston, they wrinkle their noses as if to say that it's much too crowded there. Things are, as always, relative. I once mentioned to someone that I preferred Houston to Dallas and the reply was that while Dallas was a real city, Houston was just a cow town. I guess I like cow towns.
Houston's appeal to me is that despite its being one of the largest cities in America after (New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago) it is the most uncity city I have ever been in. A low roof line, typically only 2 stories defines the place. There are of course, many skyscrapers, the largest being the 60 story Williams Tower, and many three story apartment complexes all of which do not disturb the sense of openness and space I am used to from the plains. Almost all the buildings, low and tall have generous setbacks and abundant vegetation separating them from the concrete of sidewalk and street. The highways are lined with industrial and office buildings of all types, old and new, all with much open space surrounding them. Except for some persistent trouble spots, the traffic flows quickly and smoothly. As in most Texas cities, the freeways are built at level, service roads alongside, and the main roadway bridges the major intersecting streets. This allows for traffic flow through all the neighborhoods, largely due to the innovation which allows a U-turn from the service road without the need for turning at the intersection and waiting for two lights.
An anomaly that has always piqued my curiosity I can only attribute to something left over from an earlier time. In an area criscrossed by a freeway and a tollway, exit and entrance ramps, along a wide street bordered on both sides by empty land bereft of pedestrian traffic, sits an old rundown house with an off-ramp wall just behind it and a freeway overhead. Every time I pass it, I wonder how it came to be in this otherwise uninhabited place.
It is in fact, a well known Houston restaurant, Bubba's Texas Burger Shack. It looks as though it started out as a private house on a fair bit of land. Its subsequent history remains a mystery to me.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Life is fragile indeed
Why does the recent death of Natasha Richardson strike a chord with me? I don't mean to be callous, but she is not the first famous person to die young and tragically during my lifetime. I did not know her personally, never met her, ( I did see some of her films though) and she did not know me either, so why does it bother me more than just as a passing news story? I think the answer is twofold.
First of all, she is a mother and wife who was just out for a day of fun with her kids, doing something innocuous and (relatively) safe that any one of us could do on a day off. Whatever her professional life, it is the activity that really drives this one home, it could have been anyone I know, and that makes it even more horrible. People should not die from that. It is a horrible and tragic way to go, and drives home the fragility of life like nothing else.
The second reason is she was about my age. The age thing is something that I also felt with the demise of two other public figures, Princess Diana and John Kennedy Jr.. I grew up at the same time as these people. They were young when I was, and got older as I did. Although they led completely different lives in a public forum, some of the issues were the same and life changing, such as marriage, law school, children, and everything that life entails.
Furthermore, although all three were a few years older than me, they defined my generation in a way that a 20 or 60 year old does not. So the fact that they are from my generation, and very often at the same point in their lives ( with children, aging issues, etc.) make a connection to them somewhat stronger, and has a bigger impact on me when I hear such terrible news.
So I will take this tragic event, and try to learn from it, by being closer to the ones I love, to appreciate them and life in general, and thank G-d every day that I am alive.
First of all, she is a mother and wife who was just out for a day of fun with her kids, doing something innocuous and (relatively) safe that any one of us could do on a day off. Whatever her professional life, it is the activity that really drives this one home, it could have been anyone I know, and that makes it even more horrible. People should not die from that. It is a horrible and tragic way to go, and drives home the fragility of life like nothing else.
The second reason is she was about my age. The age thing is something that I also felt with the demise of two other public figures, Princess Diana and John Kennedy Jr.. I grew up at the same time as these people. They were young when I was, and got older as I did. Although they led completely different lives in a public forum, some of the issues were the same and life changing, such as marriage, law school, children, and everything that life entails.
Furthermore, although all three were a few years older than me, they defined my generation in a way that a 20 or 60 year old does not. So the fact that they are from my generation, and very often at the same point in their lives ( with children, aging issues, etc.) make a connection to them somewhat stronger, and has a bigger impact on me when I hear such terrible news.
So I will take this tragic event, and try to learn from it, by being closer to the ones I love, to appreciate them and life in general, and thank G-d every day that I am alive.
Court is in Session
I really ought to write a book.
Whenever I go into housing court, I always come away with something. I will save the major descriptions of the housing court system for the book ( i need to keep your appetites whetted) but I will tell you this story that happened this week.
I was in the courtroom of a judge who I have never previously appeared before. I had no idea of her personality whatsoever.
Now each courtroom is populated by its own cast of characters. There is a court officer, clerk, law secretary, and sometimes other officious looking people whose job descriptions elude me.
However, in Manhattan in particular, the overriding jobs of all these people is to scream at you.
Some are more relaxed, others raise it to an art form, but I always wondered where they get their cue from.
So here's the scenario. I am sitting in the courtroom for 20 minutes waiting to get something signed. The entire time, the staff behind the bar is shouting out things at people, but the Judge is silent. signing things, reading, stuff like that.
Finally, the judge calls a case. Two tenants get up, say its their case, and one goes into the hall to get the lawyer. After he calls the lawyer to come in, the two of them go up to the table in front of the judge.
This judge, obviously a very busy person, when she did not have people immediately ( within 10 seconds) show up when she called the case, went back to reading other court documents. She then looked up at the two tenants now standing in front of her and said, quite snidely " I didn't tell anyone to come up here." So the two gentlemen went back behind the bar to wait to be called.
As they were standing there, the lawyer for the Landlord they had informed that the case ad been called came in, and assuming that, as there was no one else in front of the judge, his case was up, went past the bar to the table. The judge looks up again and says ( same voice as before) " I didn't call anyone up here. I called the case, no one came up, so I went on to other things".
The attorney, and old pro at this attitude, smartly retreated and apologized to the judge. He was standing at the bar with the two tenants, (I assume figuring that as soon as the judge finishes whatever she is doing, and feels that they have been suitably chastised for making her wait they will be the next case up.) when the clerk looks up and shouts at them " WHY ARE YOU STANDING?? FIND SEATS!"
Whenever I go into housing court, I always come away with something. I will save the major descriptions of the housing court system for the book ( i need to keep your appetites whetted) but I will tell you this story that happened this week.
I was in the courtroom of a judge who I have never previously appeared before. I had no idea of her personality whatsoever.
Now each courtroom is populated by its own cast of characters. There is a court officer, clerk, law secretary, and sometimes other officious looking people whose job descriptions elude me.
However, in Manhattan in particular, the overriding jobs of all these people is to scream at you.
Some are more relaxed, others raise it to an art form, but I always wondered where they get their cue from.
So here's the scenario. I am sitting in the courtroom for 20 minutes waiting to get something signed. The entire time, the staff behind the bar is shouting out things at people, but the Judge is silent. signing things, reading, stuff like that.
Finally, the judge calls a case. Two tenants get up, say its their case, and one goes into the hall to get the lawyer. After he calls the lawyer to come in, the two of them go up to the table in front of the judge.
This judge, obviously a very busy person, when she did not have people immediately ( within 10 seconds) show up when she called the case, went back to reading other court documents. She then looked up at the two tenants now standing in front of her and said, quite snidely " I didn't tell anyone to come up here." So the two gentlemen went back behind the bar to wait to be called.
As they were standing there, the lawyer for the Landlord they had informed that the case ad been called came in, and assuming that, as there was no one else in front of the judge, his case was up, went past the bar to the table. The judge looks up again and says ( same voice as before) " I didn't call anyone up here. I called the case, no one came up, so I went on to other things".
The attorney, and old pro at this attitude, smartly retreated and apologized to the judge. He was standing at the bar with the two tenants, (I assume figuring that as soon as the judge finishes whatever she is doing, and feels that they have been suitably chastised for making her wait they will be the next case up.) when the clerk looks up and shouts at them " WHY ARE YOU STANDING?? FIND SEATS!"
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
On the Trail
My father had an expression that went something like this: Someone who travels has a lot of stories to tell. How true! Notice how anytime one of our bloggers goes on a trip there are long posts of the event. I'm no different. Remember my airport posts?
I often think of my father when on the road. Sometimes, while cruising in the midwest between fields of high, almost ripe corn, along a practically deserted county or state road, in the distance, on the horizon, I see a steady stream of tractor trailers crossing in front of me. This was a particular scene in which my father delighted. The almost ghostly vision of the trucks slowly moving along the tops of of waving corn stalks was a metaphor for the approach to the pulsing traffic along Americas mighty interstates which criscross the nation in stark contrast to the pristine peacefulness of small town America. It gives me the same feeling.
Or another scene he would have enjoyed. Sunday night at a major "hub" airport at the commuter flight area. People are returning (almost all passengers on Sunday evenings are inbound - back home, rather than beginning a trip) from who knows where, exhausted but happy, loaded down with shopping bags luggage and kids, dressed (or rather undressed) in all kinds of crazy outfits, those lucky enough to find seats lolling about the crowded waiting room just wanting to get back to their small town that doesn't have direct air service from any but the closest big city. For some reason, the airlines schedule all their commuter flights to leave at the same time from the same set of gates. The confusion and noise can really get to you. Since all the planes are leaving at the same time the boarding announcements come fast and furious and many times are incomprehensible above the bustle as well as because the gate agents aren't native English speakers.
My most original story happened when Ozark airlines was flying. Ozark was a regional airline serving, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas and probably some other states in the region. I was booked on a flight to Springfield, MO. Another flight, scheduled to leave at the same time, was heading to Springfield,IL. You can imagine the problems this caused. The waiting area was tiny and the gate agents were trying to caution the people to choose the right plane. They didn't have jetways then and when you got out on the field there were several planes all looking alike with their stairways down leading to their open doors. I wonder how many people, half drunk, landed up in the wrong town.
The funny thing was that this must have occured every night!
I often think of my father when on the road. Sometimes, while cruising in the midwest between fields of high, almost ripe corn, along a practically deserted county or state road, in the distance, on the horizon, I see a steady stream of tractor trailers crossing in front of me. This was a particular scene in which my father delighted. The almost ghostly vision of the trucks slowly moving along the tops of of waving corn stalks was a metaphor for the approach to the pulsing traffic along Americas mighty interstates which criscross the nation in stark contrast to the pristine peacefulness of small town America. It gives me the same feeling.
Or another scene he would have enjoyed. Sunday night at a major "hub" airport at the commuter flight area. People are returning (almost all passengers on Sunday evenings are inbound - back home, rather than beginning a trip) from who knows where, exhausted but happy, loaded down with shopping bags luggage and kids, dressed (or rather undressed) in all kinds of crazy outfits, those lucky enough to find seats lolling about the crowded waiting room just wanting to get back to their small town that doesn't have direct air service from any but the closest big city. For some reason, the airlines schedule all their commuter flights to leave at the same time from the same set of gates. The confusion and noise can really get to you. Since all the planes are leaving at the same time the boarding announcements come fast and furious and many times are incomprehensible above the bustle as well as because the gate agents aren't native English speakers.
My most original story happened when Ozark airlines was flying. Ozark was a regional airline serving, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas and probably some other states in the region. I was booked on a flight to Springfield, MO. Another flight, scheduled to leave at the same time, was heading to Springfield,IL. You can imagine the problems this caused. The waiting area was tiny and the gate agents were trying to caution the people to choose the right plane. They didn't have jetways then and when you got out on the field there were several planes all looking alike with their stairways down leading to their open doors. I wonder how many people, half drunk, landed up in the wrong town.
The funny thing was that this must have occured every night!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I've been Facebooked
Since I have started to blog, and put my life and the lives of those closest to me all over the internet for your entertainment, I have heard that there are private people who do not appreciate having the story of their lives broadcast to the world. I thought that although they are very private people, that they were exaggerating a bit. However, I now know a little bit of what they are feeling.
I received a message from a relative admiring the way that I sing a certain song, with motions and props. Considering that this was done in a private home some 200 miles away from this person, I was a bit surprised that he had seen it. ( I had just had a private screening of the same video the night before, so I know where it had come from.) I felt a little funny that this was now in the public domain. However, i had a "conversation" with the poster, who assured me that the video was down, and it was only for a private group of family members on her Facebook account.
Well, I went to that Facebook page, as I am now have an account since I needed it to contact someone ( more on that in a later post, stay tuned) and I indeed noticed that the video clip was gone, but there were quite a few pictures.
of me.
Not all of them flattering.
Needless to say, I was a bit put out, and conferred once again with the poster, who assured me again that the pictures were in a private album only accessible to a specific group of family members.
I was reassured with this information. However, the feeling remained of having my private life out there for the whole world to see. It is not a comfortable position to be in, with my various aspirations and my current position in life. However, it did give me a glimpse into how others feel about posts that involve or include them. So I will continue to endeavor to use code names and take poetic license with my posts to protect the innocent and those who have the misfortune to cross my path.
I just wanted to share that with you. ( Oh, the irony!) It probably wont stop me, though.
I received a message from a relative admiring the way that I sing a certain song, with motions and props. Considering that this was done in a private home some 200 miles away from this person, I was a bit surprised that he had seen it. ( I had just had a private screening of the same video the night before, so I know where it had come from.) I felt a little funny that this was now in the public domain. However, i had a "conversation" with the poster, who assured me that the video was down, and it was only for a private group of family members on her Facebook account.
Well, I went to that Facebook page, as I am now have an account since I needed it to contact someone ( more on that in a later post, stay tuned) and I indeed noticed that the video clip was gone, but there were quite a few pictures.
of me.
Not all of them flattering.
Needless to say, I was a bit put out, and conferred once again with the poster, who assured me again that the pictures were in a private album only accessible to a specific group of family members.
I was reassured with this information. However, the feeling remained of having my private life out there for the whole world to see. It is not a comfortable position to be in, with my various aspirations and my current position in life. However, it did give me a glimpse into how others feel about posts that involve or include them. So I will continue to endeavor to use code names and take poetic license with my posts to protect the innocent and those who have the misfortune to cross my path.
I just wanted to share that with you. ( Oh, the irony!) It probably wont stop me, though.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
All Dressed up with No Place to Go
Monday night there was a bit of a lull in the festivities after we got home and had Dinner. So the family decided to prepare for the next day and dress up. Lovey and myself went to the nail salon of Boo ( yes Dr. Boo Boo be Gone, in your honor she is now known as Boo) for manicures, which were lovely in their diversity. Then wigs and lashes all around ( for the FEMALES)
We were ready.
We were pumped.
We were perplexed.
We had no place to go!
I never thought that I would be living a cliche, but there it was, the girls and us in costume, with no idea who to share our many colored splendor with. We debated, suggested and rejected a chole bunch of people for various reasons ( They are sleeping, not home, we will see them tomorrow, they will be scared of us, etc.) before finally we decided to hit some of the aunts and uncles, always good for a chuckle or two.
The house was dark at the first stop. Turns out they were not home either. So we went to the next location. Success! Had a nice visit, then it was time to come home and dream sweet thoughts of the the fun to be had on the morrow.
Which was lovely, by the way.
We were ready.
We were pumped.
We were perplexed.
We had no place to go!
I never thought that I would be living a cliche, but there it was, the girls and us in costume, with no idea who to share our many colored splendor with. We debated, suggested and rejected a chole bunch of people for various reasons ( They are sleeping, not home, we will see them tomorrow, they will be scared of us, etc.) before finally we decided to hit some of the aunts and uncles, always good for a chuckle or two.
The house was dark at the first stop. Turns out they were not home either. So we went to the next location. Success! Had a nice visit, then it was time to come home and dream sweet thoughts of the the fun to be had on the morrow.
Which was lovely, by the way.
Thank you, Mr. Madoff
Bernie Madoff benefited me greatly today, I really need to thank him for helping me out.
Here's what happened.
I was going to Court in Manhattan this morning. I was running late since I slept a little later than usual, and I had to drive my son to the city. ( For the same reason.) Anyhow, the check-in for the Courts is 9:30-10:30, then you are late. I got to Court around 10:45. I went to the officer at the desk to check in and noticed that my file was in front of her with a sticky on it that said I wasn't there. I said I was there to check in on the case and she informed me, quite insistently, that check=in was 9:30-10:30 and that I was late. I told her that I had been "Madoffed", that I had gotten caught in the heavier than usual traffic in lower Manhattan for the plea spectacle that was going on today ( which is true.) She then relented and said " oh, is it really bad out there?", removed the sticky, and put the file back in the present pile.
The traffic was pretty bad, and I had avoided the east side because of it ( the Federal Court is between the east side and the court I was in) but I was actually late, and should have left earlier.
So for all of you out there castigating the man, at least let us realize that he has done some good in his life.
I have no idea what excuse I will use next time, though.
Here's what happened.
I was going to Court in Manhattan this morning. I was running late since I slept a little later than usual, and I had to drive my son to the city. ( For the same reason.) Anyhow, the check-in for the Courts is 9:30-10:30, then you are late. I got to Court around 10:45. I went to the officer at the desk to check in and noticed that my file was in front of her with a sticky on it that said I wasn't there. I said I was there to check in on the case and she informed me, quite insistently, that check=in was 9:30-10:30 and that I was late. I told her that I had been "Madoffed", that I had gotten caught in the heavier than usual traffic in lower Manhattan for the plea spectacle that was going on today ( which is true.) She then relented and said " oh, is it really bad out there?", removed the sticky, and put the file back in the present pile.
The traffic was pretty bad, and I had avoided the east side because of it ( the Federal Court is between the east side and the court I was in) but I was actually late, and should have left earlier.
So for all of you out there castigating the man, at least let us realize that he has done some good in his life.
I have no idea what excuse I will use next time, though.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Right this way II
It happened AGAIN!!!! I could not believe it!!! Just like last week I was wearing my ski cap in the City ( This time, in Brooklyn). As I am walking, a guy asks me which way Hoyt Street is. I ACTUALLY KNEW!! I was so proud of myself!
However, I really think its the hat. maybe NYPD doesn't stand for "New York Police Department" like everyone assumes. Maybe they tell people out of New York that it also means something more like "New York Pedestrian Director", or "New York Person for Directions" . It could even have a New York flavor, with " No, You Passed it, Dummy!"
Just some thoughts. I will think some more when I take off the cap and people stop interrupting me.
However, I really think its the hat. maybe NYPD doesn't stand for "New York Police Department" like everyone assumes. Maybe they tell people out of New York that it also means something more like "New York Pedestrian Director", or "New York Person for Directions" . It could even have a New York flavor, with " No, You Passed it, Dummy!"
Just some thoughts. I will think some more when I take off the cap and people stop interrupting me.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Memories
A friend just sent me a picture of Broadway looking north from 176th street, taken about 1918. There is some question about the date but it almost certainly predates 1930. It was sent to me because I used to live there. In fact, the two buildings, front left, were my home for 28 years.
Thinking of the United States in 1918 conjures up the image of a young vibrant springlike country bursting with energy, of prosperous small towns with uncongested tree lined boulevards and happy people looking forward to the nascent development and liberty unleashed by the recently won victory in Europe.
This is what I expected when I opened the picture . I couldn't believe that back then, the buildings appeared as ugly as I remember them in a later era, blackened by the soot of time and neglect, the massive buildings crowding the unadorned, unbuffered sidewalks, their featureless facades a mess of small windows climbing to unnatural heights above the street. Even the puny trees in the picture never got any bigger. Admittedly, the streets had not yet taken on the congestion and hodgepodge of bumper to bumper parked cars squeezing the sidewalk from the street side corresponding to what the buildings were doing on the other side, but even then the mix of residential and commercial spaces packed together in a welter of busyness is sensed in the photograph.
This was a high class neighborhood at the beginning of the last century but why would anyone want to live there, that way? What an iconoclast!
Thinking of the United States in 1918 conjures up the image of a young vibrant springlike country bursting with energy, of prosperous small towns with uncongested tree lined boulevards and happy people looking forward to the nascent development and liberty unleashed by the recently won victory in Europe.
This is what I expected when I opened the picture . I couldn't believe that back then, the buildings appeared as ugly as I remember them in a later era, blackened by the soot of time and neglect, the massive buildings crowding the unadorned, unbuffered sidewalks, their featureless facades a mess of small windows climbing to unnatural heights above the street. Even the puny trees in the picture never got any bigger. Admittedly, the streets had not yet taken on the congestion and hodgepodge of bumper to bumper parked cars squeezing the sidewalk from the street side corresponding to what the buildings were doing on the other side, but even then the mix of residential and commercial spaces packed together in a welter of busyness is sensed in the photograph.
This was a high class neighborhood at the beginning of the last century but why would anyone want to live there, that way? What an iconoclast!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
right this way sir
Weird things happened to me tonight. I wear an NYPD ski cap, not because I am a cop, or love the boys in blue, but because it was free! (of course). So I get off the train at 42nd and Park and start walking west on 42nd street. Suddenly, a gentleman stops me and asked me which direction is 51st street. (Please note the extreme irony of this entire post, in that I have a terrible sense of direction, and never really know where I am in the city, but more on that later)
I tell the man to go north, and he starts walking with me. I ask him where on 51st he's going, he tells me Lexington. I politely inform him that he is going the wrong direction, and point him towards Lexington Avenue.
I then proceed west, and when I hit Madison, a group of Oriental young people asked me where Times Square was. I informed them to just keep walking west on 42nd Street, and they wouldn't be able to miss it.
As I continued west, as I turned up Fifth Avenue, I.thought it mighty strange that 2 people asked me for directions. I mean, I get lost in a box if there aren't clear directions, and whenever I get out of the subway, I look for the Empire State Building to orient myself.
Well, my life as an information booth apparenly still wasn't ove, and wouldn't you believe, not two blocks up, a pair of European women asked me, in broken French (or something sounding like it) where Madison Square Garden was!
Fortunately, I knew where that was as well, and was able to point them south and west, as well as tell them where they could pick up a train for one stop.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty useful and smug, until io realized that I had missed the store I was looking for, and had to double back.
I tell the man to go north, and he starts walking with me. I ask him where on 51st he's going, he tells me Lexington. I politely inform him that he is going the wrong direction, and point him towards Lexington Avenue.
I then proceed west, and when I hit Madison, a group of Oriental young people asked me where Times Square was. I informed them to just keep walking west on 42nd Street, and they wouldn't be able to miss it.
As I continued west, as I turned up Fifth Avenue, I.thought it mighty strange that 2 people asked me for directions. I mean, I get lost in a box if there aren't clear directions, and whenever I get out of the subway, I look for the Empire State Building to orient myself.
Well, my life as an information booth apparenly still wasn't ove, and wouldn't you believe, not two blocks up, a pair of European women asked me, in broken French (or something sounding like it) where Madison Square Garden was!
Fortunately, I knew where that was as well, and was able to point them south and west, as well as tell them where they could pick up a train for one stop.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty useful and smug, until io realized that I had missed the store I was looking for, and had to double back.
Monday, March 2, 2009
AIRPORT II
This should have been my first blog on the subject, but in the heat of complaining about the Detroit airport I cut straight to the chase.
My first flight, in 1955, started at New York's Idlewild airport (now JFK) which, at the time was a long series of quonset huts. We arrived in Cleveland at an airport that had been built around 1927 and wasn't much larger than one of today's mcmansions. It was a square, brick building along the edge of the airfield. The fifties was a time of massive building of hotels, airports and the like and the style was steel and glass whose architects were I.M Pei, Eero Saarinen, Phillip Johnson and the like. Aviation was really beginning to take off (pun intended)and the need for planning from arrival by ground vehicle to takeoff became a priority.
One of the most inovative designs, ultimately used by Kansas City International and Dallas Fort Worth, was the semicircular terminal. In fact, the terminals were somewhat more than semi-circular, maybe about 230 degrees. The idea was to use the inside of the circle for vehicular traffic and the outside for air traffic. One could arrive by car and be at one's gate just across the hall, about 30 feet away. It seemed like a good idea but no one reckoned with the spate of hijackings which shook the country and necessitated security checks for all departing passengers. As it was impractical to have security at every gate, the dream of 30 feet from car to plane was subject to an unpleasant awakening. Another drawback of this system was that although it was convenient for passengers arriving by land it was a nightmare for those who used the airport as a transfer point from plane to plane. One could land up having to walk two miles with heavy luggage (before luggage wheels) from one gate to another.
Another idea which was more lately born puts an arrival building in midfield and a monorail leading to a landside terminal. This is evident in Florida airports, at Detroit and in Pittsburgh. I don't see the sense in this but they must have had a reason. It cuts down on the length of your walk although that isn't the case at Pittsburgh.
Getting from one gate or concourse to another is also an issue for intelligent airport design. Due to the growth of air travel, additions to airports are inevitable and they lead to a hodgepodge of different modes of movement between terminals and gates. Airport officials widen or extend a space and then find that it doesn't fit in to the original traffic flow at the airport and they engineer a solution which requires some convoluted movements to navigate it all. They use busses, monorails that don't fit in with existing tram systems, and moving walkways and escalators leading to the same problems they originally eliminated when conceptualising the new airport.
The best design would be a two level one with ticketing and gates on one level and baggage and ground services on another. Easy to say, but rather difficult to achieve.
My first flight, in 1955, started at New York's Idlewild airport (now JFK) which, at the time was a long series of quonset huts. We arrived in Cleveland at an airport that had been built around 1927 and wasn't much larger than one of today's mcmansions. It was a square, brick building along the edge of the airfield. The fifties was a time of massive building of hotels, airports and the like and the style was steel and glass whose architects were I.M Pei, Eero Saarinen, Phillip Johnson and the like. Aviation was really beginning to take off (pun intended)and the need for planning from arrival by ground vehicle to takeoff became a priority.
One of the most inovative designs, ultimately used by Kansas City International and Dallas Fort Worth, was the semicircular terminal. In fact, the terminals were somewhat more than semi-circular, maybe about 230 degrees. The idea was to use the inside of the circle for vehicular traffic and the outside for air traffic. One could arrive by car and be at one's gate just across the hall, about 30 feet away. It seemed like a good idea but no one reckoned with the spate of hijackings which shook the country and necessitated security checks for all departing passengers. As it was impractical to have security at every gate, the dream of 30 feet from car to plane was subject to an unpleasant awakening. Another drawback of this system was that although it was convenient for passengers arriving by land it was a nightmare for those who used the airport as a transfer point from plane to plane. One could land up having to walk two miles with heavy luggage (before luggage wheels) from one gate to another.
Another idea which was more lately born puts an arrival building in midfield and a monorail leading to a landside terminal. This is evident in Florida airports, at Detroit and in Pittsburgh. I don't see the sense in this but they must have had a reason. It cuts down on the length of your walk although that isn't the case at Pittsburgh.
Getting from one gate or concourse to another is also an issue for intelligent airport design. Due to the growth of air travel, additions to airports are inevitable and they lead to a hodgepodge of different modes of movement between terminals and gates. Airport officials widen or extend a space and then find that it doesn't fit in to the original traffic flow at the airport and they engineer a solution which requires some convoluted movements to navigate it all. They use busses, monorails that don't fit in with existing tram systems, and moving walkways and escalators leading to the same problems they originally eliminated when conceptualising the new airport.
The best design would be a two level one with ticketing and gates on one level and baggage and ground services on another. Easy to say, but rather difficult to achieve.
Live and Learn
I went to a Dinner this past weekend for my daughter's school. They do a nice job, and they have set up in a a side room some work product from the kids. What they had there was part of an exhibit that I had been to earlier this month and had wanted to comment on, so now that I have been reminded, here goes.
I went to a People in History exhibit that was put on by my daughter's school. The theme was profiles of people throughout history, from Presidents to inventors, dictators, people who have made a difference in history, and even religious leaders. I was truly amazed by most of the exhibits, and actually learned a thing or two. For instance, did you know that windshield wipers as we know them were invented by a woman? I didn't. I was also quite impressed that the range of people that were covered, not all of them heroes, and all the work done by the elementary school girls.
Kudo's to you, daughter's school, I guess the tuition is going to good use.
I went to a People in History exhibit that was put on by my daughter's school. The theme was profiles of people throughout history, from Presidents to inventors, dictators, people who have made a difference in history, and even religious leaders. I was truly amazed by most of the exhibits, and actually learned a thing or two. For instance, did you know that windshield wipers as we know them were invented by a woman? I didn't. I was also quite impressed that the range of people that were covered, not all of them heroes, and all the work done by the elementary school girls.
Kudo's to you, daughter's school, I guess the tuition is going to good use.
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