I'm a finisher

4:40:00 or so.

I still don't have the final time because I didn't want to wait around for final results to be posted. I'll write more later -- now it's off to an opera in the park with J2E.

So I just got my final time: 4:40:51. A little slower than I thought. I placed 2,893 out of 4,918 runners. That's the 41st percentile. Not too impressive. Interestingly, I placed higher (45th percentile) in my age bracket (Men 25-29). My theory is that a lot of people in that age bracket go out way too fast and end up dying too soon -- face it, no 25-year-old man wants to run a marathon over 4:00:00 -- where as the field as a whole is smarter and paces themselves.

Just a LITTLE leak

Well, I am posting from the fair city of San Francisco, enjoying the surroundings generously provided by J2E. Of course, it's 2:30a PT. Beautiful, eh?

Of course, I would have been here two hours ago except that my plane in Chicago had this annoying little problem -- a slight leak in the oxygen system. We sat at the gate for over an hour while they tried to fix it, only to be told that we were going to have to deplane and move to a plane that they had pulled up to the next gate. fn1.

Of course, the process of moving everyone en masse from one fully-loaded A320 to another takes awhile. We really would have been better off moving planes as soon as they discovered the problem rather than wasting an hour trying to fix it and then having to move.

Other than the little delay, everything was fine. Shockingly, I made it through LGA without getting hassled about my ID. Overall, United is ok, but their planes are a little cramped. The first five rows of coach are called "Economy Plus," which I think means more legroom, for which you pay more. However, it means that everyone else has less leg room. Thrilling, eh?

Ok, I need to stretch out and then it's off to bed for me.

1. In that respect, I guess we're very lucky we were in Chicago, one of United's main hubs. I'm sure there were a lot more spare planes sitting around there then if the same problem had happened at La Guardia.

Clearly, they weren't metros

Overheard at a pizza/pasta joint in the financial district:

Guy 1: They said we need nine [obscured], nine belts, and nine socks.
Guy 2: Nine belts? Where are we going to get those? There's only three of us.
Guy 3: Dunno. Other people, I guess.

Of Golf and Wasps

Wednesday, I went on a golf outing with one of the practice groups through which I rotated. It was in upsate New York (and by upstate, I mean Westchester Co. or thereabouts). Beautiful country club. Unlike the last country club we went to, which had delusions of graduer, this place really was nice.

It was also pretty snobby and uptight. My coworker and I walked into the pro shop and the first thing they said to us, before even saying "Hello" or "Can I help you?" was, "Gentlemen, shirts must be tucked in please."

The course was difficult, but very georgous. It preserved most of the natural hills of the area, which made for rolling, rock-lined vistas. It also forced you to play uphill and downhill most of the time, which isn't easy even if you know what you're doing as a golfer. I most certainly don't know what I'm doing, which means that I was even more incompetent than usual. Fortunately, the partner and his wife with whom I was playing were not particularly good, so that made it more tolerable.

To make matters worse, because only two foursomes were going out, they decided not to do a tournament/scramble. Instead, it was just a regular round of golf. A scramble is great for me because it means that my one shot in ten which is actually good helps the team, and the other nine bad shots don't matter.

Oh, did I mention that the heat index on the course was 110 degrees? That made everything extra pleasant. My shirt was soaked in about 15 minutes.

Everything was ok until we reached the 13th hole. I hit my ball into a shrubbery and went to retrieve it. Unfortunately, as I exited the shrub, I did not notice the rather large wasp nest hanging about three feet off the ground. I pushed up the branch it was hanging on and walked right under it.

Of course, I got stung. I was actually extremely fortunate to only get stung once. It hurt at first, but being as I was determined not to be a ussy, I kept playing. My play was terrible afterwards, but unfortunately I cannot blame that on the sting. I sucked just as much beforehand.

In the end, I'm not really sure why I was the least bit surprised to have a run-in with WASPs at this country club. I mean, maybe I thought all the WASPs were in the clubhouse rather than on the course, but I guess it's one of those places where the WASPs are everywhere.

Restaurant Week Summer 2005

I just discovered that Restaurant Week for Summer 05 has been extended through Labor Day. The event allows you to experience some of the better restaurants in New York for $20.12 at lunch at $35 at dinner. In either case, you'll get a three-course pre fixe from a rather limited menu.

Some of the highlights, in my opinion, are Artisanal, Asia de Cuba, Bolo, Kittichai, Mercer Kitchen, and Tamarind. Tribeca Grill is ok, but not great. Also, several of Jean-Georges restaurants are up, including Vong, Mercer Kitchen, V-Steakhouse, Nougatine, 66, and JoJo's.

Check out the complete listing at the Visit NYC website.

Quotes of the day

Tonight, a five-pack, courtesy of my always inquisitive and helpful neighbors. Believe me, there's nothing like going for a run at 11:45 to bring out the comedy. I went for a couple mile run, just to keep my legs loose. fn1.

Quote One
From a 300-pound, spilling out of her shorts and tank top woman sitting in front of the apartments at 103 and Amsterdam:
"Put on a shirt. Wax your chest, man!"
Listen here, you disgustingly obese tub of lard. Get lipo, staple your stomach, or do whatever else it takes to lose half the blubber off your fat ass. Then, and only then, will I consider waxing my chest.

Quote Two
From a middle-aged female panhandler walking with a cane:
"Could you spare some change tonight?"
Uh, hello. I'm running up Broadway, wearing nothing but pocketless running shorts and running shoes, sweat running off my eyelashes onto my nose and dripping onto my lower lip. Do I LOOK like I have spare change with me. Yeah, actually, it's in the bottom of my shoe (giving me blisters) so that if I get tired I can call home.

Quote Three
"I don't know," said an old man, raising his cane and pointing at me. "I just can't move like that anymore."

Quote Four
Mid-20s female, spiky blonde hair, smoking outside a bar on Broadway.
"Run boy! Run RUN RUN!"
Nothing like having your own private cheering section.

Quote Five
Panhandler at 105 and Broadway:
"Excuse me sir. Could you help out -- never mind. You ain't got no money."
Finally, someone who's with the program.
1. Fortunately, it seems to be working. My legs felt real good after the first half mile or so.

Mr. Softee!!

In honor of the heat (according to weather.com, it's currently 98 degrees and rising. Wow. I can't believe I just made that "joke." I'm so ashamed of myself that I'm going to leave it up there to punish myself by showing everyone just how stupid I am. Anyway...it's 98 degrees with a heat index of 100) our wonderful summer program coordinator took us to get soft serve from the Mr. Softee truck on Liberty Street. We all met downstairs and trooped over a couple blocks to get "healthy" ice cream snacks.

I got the always reliable vanilla cone with chocolate sprinkles. It was tasty.

Then I dribbled it on my shirt and pants. I am so freaking predictable sometimes I can hardly believe it. Fortunately, it mostly wiped off without too much trouble. This is a positive, as it means that the front of my pants only sort of look like I had a happy ending to my ice cream trip.

Wedding Crashers

Finally saw the new Owen Wilson/Vince Vaughn flick tonight, courtesy of the firm. It's a good summer popcorn flick. Certainly not Dodgeball or Zoolander. The dialogue isn't as well-crafted and the plot isn't as developed. It's basically a string of crazy situations which lead to hilarity.

Will Farell shows up at the end of the movie for a brilliant role, creating some of the funniest scenes of the movie. It's been awhile since I've seen a good comedy, and so it was nice to sit and laugh and laugh for two hours.

It's worth seeing, but don't get your hopes up too high. And if you want to wait for the video, you won't miss anything significant by not seeing it in the theater.

Going the Distance

My marathon quest is either going better or going worse, I'm not sure which.

My training plan, if you could call it that, is progressing as scheduled. Last night (Sunday), I did my "long run" which was supposed to be 12 miles. I ended up going 12+ in about two hours.

The exact distance, of course, is a little unclear because I got lost on the run. Well, not "lost," as if I were a Boy Scout in Utah lost in some canyon with helicopters and bloodhounds searching for me. Just lost in the sense that I took a wrong turn and ended up making an extra loop that I didn't want to make. After making this mistake once, I tried to avoid it again and ended up going other places where I didn't know how to get where I wanted to be. By this time, I was very tired, very disoriented, and rather dehydrated, as I had been running for over an hour without a drink. (Because I got lost, I missed going to the drinking fountain I was planning to stop at.)

By the end of the run -- actually, by about mile 10, I was dying. My nipples were chafing (because I didn't tape them like I should have), so I took off my top. Then, however, the wind and my sweat made me too cold. I had a blister forming on the inside of my right foot, which made every step painful. My knees were hurting. My lungs were ok, but not great.

So I guess I'm divided on whether I can actually finish 26.2 miles. On one hand, with the way my body responded, I'm not sure I could do much more than 12.

On the other hand, there are several things about San Francisco that I think will make me more successful:
1.) It was 80 degrees with 60% humidity last night. San Fran will be 20-25 degrees cooler, at which point the humidity helps keep you cool rather than making things worse.
2.) I will properly hydrate, thanks to the water stations every 2 miles.
3.) Every time I run, I've been getting stronger. So I think I should be able to get at least 15 miles next time.
4.) I paced myself poorly last night. I went out at probably a 7.5 minute pace, where as I need to be pacing at closer to 9 or 10 minutes.

So I feel like I should be able to get through the first 16 miles or so of SF. From there on, it's a matter of will and forcing my body to do what I want it to.

Of course, all this is complicated by realizing that I can't switch down to the half marathon once I get to SF. From the emails they've been sending out, I thought I could change up until the day before the race, but from reading their website, it appears that all changes had to be made before July 10. So right now, it's looking like marathon or bust.

Tomorrow, I'll do a 2 mile recovery run, then probably do 3 miles on Thursday. On Saturday, I'll do about a mile and a half just to keep my legs loose. In the meantime, I'm stretching constantly to keep my legs limber. Of course, what I really need to do is lung stretching to prepare for the hills of San Fran.

A Tempest on the Hudson

This weekend, J1 and I went to upstate New York to see the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival's production of The Tempest. Both of us would highly recommend the trip. The scenery, the setting, and the production are all fantastic.

The Festival is presented in the picturesque Hudson Valley at the Boscobel Restoration, a restored estate from the federal period. The Restoration overlooks the Hudson River and the rolling hills beyond, with a great view of the West Point campus. The Restoration is near the quaint town of Cold Spring, about 50 miles north of NYC.

The whole area is so scenic. We took the Metro North up, which took about an hour. The trip itself is beautiful, as the Hudson line follows the river most of the way up. At the train station, a shuttle van from the festival met us to drive us out to Boscobel. Although we didn't stop in Cold Spring, it looked so cute. It is full of little antique shops and restaurants. It looked like one could easily spend an afternoon browsing in the stores.

Boscobel is beautiful. It even has a rose garden, which was very nice.


We got to the grounds about two hours before the show started, because they let people picnic while they wait for the show. The lawn overlooking the Hudson is a great place for a romantic picnic. Of course, we didn't have any food with us, because we were running late and almost missed our train leaving New York. fn1. So we bought food from the concession stand and ate on K1's red blanket, which we conveniently happened to have with us.

Here, you can see the beautiful view overlooking the Hudson Valley.

The show is performed in a tent, which seats about 400.

All of the seats are pretty good, although it would have been nice to be in the center rather than on one of the sides. However, we could still see everything just fine.

The production itself was amazing. It was surprisingly modern. One would almost expect -- given the bucolic, rustic nature of the setting -- to see a very traditional, conservative presentation of Shakespeare. Instead, the HVSC focuses on the bare elements of the text, eschewing props and elaborate costumes in favor of strong dramatic force.

Especially moving were the portrayals of Caliban and Ariel. The producers at once played up the comedic and dark aspects of the script. The acting was solid, and the overall performance was moving. It is well worth the time and money to make the trip up to see it.

At the end of the night, we boarded the train back to the City, tired but glad we had gone to Cold Spring.


1. Such is the peril of a relationship between two perpetually late people. You only manage to reinforce the lateness that already exists in each other.

Quote of the Day

F, my female cow-orker, talking at lunch about designer jeans:

"Women's designer jeans are like a bra: they lift, separate, and provide perfect support."

You can tell it was written by lawyers

Our intranet "Daily Bulletin" included a blurb about the New York Sports Club, with which we have an affiliation allowing us (meager) membership discounts. Quoting information from the club about its personal training programs, the blurb said,
"'[R]emember, no one's born knowing the right way to work out.'"

I just love the use of the bracketed R. Anyone besides a bunch of lawyers would realize that perhaps the brackets were appropriate, but recognizing the informal nature of a daily intranet newsletter would just leave out the brackets for the sake of simplicity.

However, I was disturbed that there was no citation in proper Blue Book format telling where the quote came from.

More search term entertainment

The search terms people use to find BRY just keep getting more bizarre. A few weeks ago, the New York Times showed up looking for information about Judith Miller. People have also stopped by looking for Menupages, Aquagrill, and other fairly mundane things.

But today, at 7:19 am (ET), some weird mo-fo living in Norman, Oklahoma, was searching for "forearm fetish" on Yahoo and stumbled upon my site. Apparently, my discussion of fuzzy forearms drew in the search engines, as well as the fuzzy forearm pervs.

I mean, if you have a fetish for forearms, I guess that's ok. It seems even more remote to me than a foot fetish or armpit fetish. But I suppose no one ever said that a fetish had to make sense. Regardless, you will not find fulfillment for your forearm fetish here at BRY. Check out K1's blog....I hear they have nude forearms on display over there.

And I just have to ask....what in the bloody hell is going on in Norman, Oklahoma that leaves residents with nothing to do at 6:19 am (CT) other than search for information about forearm fetishes? I realized it was boring out there, but I guess I had no idea of how boring.

Brown out -- Or why psychological problems breed success

The Pistons finally agreed to terms of separation of with coach Larry Brown. Brown, who had three years and $21 million left on his deal, will get about $6 million and be free to coach anywhere immediately.

While unfortunate, it appears to be the best solution for all involved. Brown had made it clear that he wasn't really committed to staying in Detroit. The constant nomad, who just finished his tenth coaching job in the last 33 years, has never seen a fence lacking greener grass on the other side. Despite what Brown accomplished for the organization -- a championship and a seven-game loss in the finals in a two year span -- the team could no longer trust that Brown could give the team the stability it needed to make a run at another championship.

Financially, Detroit avoided having to pay Brown all of his remaining salary. In return, Brown can take another job as soon as it becomes available, which means he will probably be on the sidelines at Madison Square Garden soon.

The negative for all parties involved was that but for Brown's constant need to look at other teams, this was a perfect fit for everyone. Brown is a brilliant coach, and pushed Detroit to new heights of achievement. It is uncertain whether any coach that is hired (most likely Flip Saunders, the former Timberwolves skipper) will be able to coax the same level of performance from Detroit's unique mix of talent. As for Brown, he is never going to have a more complete, more talented, less ego-laden team to coach. It seemed to be a perfect situation for him -- a bunch of guys who all wanted to "play the right way."

All this made me start thinking about how psychological problems and insecurities can drive people to the highest levels of success.

Yesterday, Detroit Free Press columnist Mitch Albom noted that everyone covering Larry Brown eventually becomes an armchair psychologist as they try to explain his behavior. It seems clear that Brown is desperate for love and attention. He constantly has the desire to feel wanted, and to have everyone telling him how wonderful he is. After a few years in one place, he starts feeling neglected and ends up looking for someone else to give him love.

I would have to guess that this pattern of behavior stems from something in his childhood, and feeling like he wasn't good enough or was not loved enough. While it is unfortunate that he has to deal with these issues of self-doubt, it is quite clear that these feelings push him to higher and higher levels of achievement, as he obsesses over perfection and reaches for elusive success at each stop in his career.

In the same way, I believe many of the most successful artists, athletes, politicians, and business leaders are driven by similar psychological problems. The reasoning is simple: success in these fields often demands single-minded pursuit of your craft, regardless of the costs to your health or the impact on those around you. fn1. In addition, in fields like art, I think psychological problems motivate most of the greatest art. fn2.

So unfortunately, I think most of the greatest achievements we enjoy are the product of incredible pain and psychological instability. Good for us, I suppose, but not good for anyone else.

1. I think this is why we have so many presidential scandals and see such terrible behavior by our leading politicians. Any person who is willing to make all the sacrifices and endure all the pain necessary to become President of the United States has to have some extreme desires for validation and unhealthy needs for power and control. Otherwise, it is just not worth the effort and the damage to your life that a run for President causes.

2. This is probably best summed up by Lester Bangs (played by Phillip Seymour Hoffman) in Almost Famous:
"Women will always be a problem for guys like us. Most of the great art in the world is about that very problem. Good-looking people have no spine! Their art never lasts! .... Great art is all about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex and sex disguised as love...."

The truth of this statement as it applies to music is so relevant when you look at a band like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Their two best albums, Blood Sugar Sex Magik and One Hot Minute came as the bandmembers were experiencing incredible personal turmoil, drug addiction, and grief because of the heroin-OD death of guitarist Hillel Slovak. As time went on, the band members matured, got off drugs, and moved to a much happier (and healthier) place. And what happened? Their recent albums, like Californication and By the Way, are horrible pop-rock dreck with no originality, depth of feeling, or edge. It's like listening to Nickelback, but with much more talented musicians.

Cash Money!

I've discovered a new money-making activity: selling my used textbooks on Half.com. I got sick of spending a huge amount of money on books I never read anyhow which then take up massive amounts of space in my apartment. fn1.

So I decided to put my books up for sale on Half. fn2. I put the first batch up a month ago or so, and since then I have already sold three (family law, federal income tax, and property) for a total of about $100. Obviously, it's only a fraction of what I paid for the books new, but at least it's something, and at least they're no longer taking up space on my shelf.

1. My apartment is rapidly running out of space. I keep buying stuff and am not really getting rid of anything. I think I need to have a massive cleaning/throwing away session at the end of summer, or else I am going to be crowded out of my apartment before I graduate.

2. Half.com is a subsidiary of eBay. It uses a fixed-price selling model rather than an auction model. I think it takes longer to sell things on Half and the fees are higher, but it's more convenient (you don't have to make auction pages and they handle payment collection for you) and I don't have to deal with auction end times, etc. As far as price realized, I think it can go either way. On one hand, the eBay can maximize your price if people get in a bidding war. But it can also depress the price if there are no buyers and everyone snipes at the last second. At least with Half.com, you know you will get a fair price.

Quote of the Day

Overheard while walking to the 1 on Broadway:

Man 1: Yeah, I'm headed out for vacation this morning.
Man 2: Again? You just got back.
Man 1: *shrug* I have a lot of money.

Steaming

Ok, I'm a little irate right now. Blogger somehow just lost one of my best posts in a couple weeks -- a description of extreme toolish behavior by one of my fellow summer associates. It took me at least 30 minutes to write. I was truly proud of it. Maybe it will be reproduced tomorrow, maybe it will be lost in the confines of my mind forever.

I still don't know what happened, but the fact that Blogger wipes your post (meaning that if you hit the back button it is gone) if there's an error is pretty sh*tty if you ask me.

Career ideas

Today, our firm arranged for us to visit the New York Stock Exchange, which was a nice treat, as the NYSE has been closed to the public since 9/11.

The information sessions themselves were somewhat terrible, as the presenters apparently had no skill in making things interesting. However, we also got to watch the action on the trading floor and see the closing bell rung.

Watching the traders, I decided that being a specialist or a floor broker might be an interesting career option. It's intense work throughout the day, but my understanding is that your hours basically run with the market. Meaning that you're not putting in the 16-hour days of i-bankers or the unpredictable hours of lawyers.

The downside is that many of the specialists/brokers are there because of family connections, meaning that the jobs aren't all the plentiful. However, it's something to look into.

Let the pictures begin

My digital camera arrived at work today. It is a Minolta G600 6.0mp camera.



I haven't gotten a chance to use it yet, as the battery needs to charge. Just looking at it, I'm fairly happy with it. It has the clamshell front, which I think protects the lens better and saves having to put a power button the the camera. The size is also good, although it's not quite as small as the Canon S-series cameras, and certainly not as small as the Canon SD-series.

Other things that I don't like so much:
- The zoom control is two buttons on the back, rather than Canon's very convenient lever located near the shutter button.
- The brushed metal surface looks like it will show a lot of finger prints.
- It comes with a neck strap rather than a wrist strap. Now this is just dumb. No one wants to put a pocket-sized digicam around their neck.

However, while I think I like Canon's design slightly better, the Minolta was about the same price as Canons with half the megapixels. By all reviews that I read, it appears that the optics and the image sensor on the Minolta are just as good, if not better, than those on the Canon. So I decided to give up some design elements I like in exchange for much higher quality pictures.

If all goes as planned, you should be seeing more pictures here in the future, and I won't have to steal from K1, S1, E1, and S4.

Quote of the Day

Ed Norton, on New York: "I love Central Park, but I need a really stiff drink and a good reason to go above 34th Street."

I live far above 34th St., and I know exactly what Mr. Norton is saying. While there are good places to go in both the UWS and UES (34th Street to 59th Street is pretty much a god-forsaken wasteland, with the possible exception of Hell's Kitchen), most of those places can be topped or approximated by locations downtown.

Why airport security is a joke

Ignore for a moment the simple fact that most of the increased airport security measures implemented after 9-11 have little to do with increasing actual security (come on -- banning nail clippers?) and are instead aimed at increasing a sense of security among air travelers. Imagine, instead, that these changes were actually meaningful to some reasonable degree. Even then, airport security would still be a joke because THERE IS NO CONSISTENCY.

It's a fairly simple proposition that if something matters one place, or one day, it should matter in all places, on all days. If it doesn't, either it's not important or the places that fail to pay attention to that specific detail are not providing adequate protection.

One familiar example to anyone who has flown frequently after 9-11 is the shoe removal issue. Peter King (who writes Monday Morning Quarterback for SI.com) keeps a running report of which airports request that he removes his shoes and which airports do not. Some screeners will demand that you remove flip-flops, while others will let you pass through wearing anything short of Doc Martins. This leaves travelers confused, as they wonder whether or not to remove their shoes and then get yelled at by screeners telling them, "You don't need to put your flip-flops in the bin!" fn1.

Another example is the issue of when you need to show ID. Immediately after 9-11, you pretty much had to carry your ID with you everywhere. I think some airports were requiring an ID to use the bathroom. This is one issue that has finally be standardized, so that no matter where you go or what airline you're flying, you will never be asked for your ID when boarding.

My personal issue of inconsistency, which inspired this post and has made traveling a living Hades for me over the last two weeks, involves whether one must have an unexpired ID in order to fly. fn2.

Since my ID expired last year, I have flown at least 20 times. Maybe more. Yet I have yet to find any consistent pattern to whether it matters if your ID is expired or not. fn3.

In at least half of cases, the screener hasn't even noticed or cared that the license was expired.

In a few cases, the screener has given me a hassle, but I was able to talk my way out of it, usually using some combination of puppy dog eyes, my student ID card, or my Social Security card. The presence of a supervisor who knows even less than the screener usually provides a helpful element of confusion and allows me to pass through without too much trouble.

One day, the screener kept telling me that my license was expired. Then, she flipped it over and saw a change of address sticker, which included my past apartment number (7205). She decided that this must have been an extension of the expiration until July 2, 2005 (I did nothing to disabuse her of that notion), so she let me through.

Last week, when flying back to Michigan, there was a new level of scrutiny applied. The screener refused to let me through and told me to go back to get a "special" boarding pass. I did, and received a pass with the always-welcome "SSSS," designating me as a special security risk needing secondary screening. fn4. I went through security, and it was no problem. On the return flight, I tried to get through without the special boarding pass, since LGA is the main airport where I've had problems with the expiration date. However, the Detroit screener clearly had a d*ck up his tush and demanded that I get a special pass.

So I thought I had learned the "new" way that the system was going to work. fn5. Arriving at JFK on Friday for a flight to LAX, I asked for the special boarding pass to start out with. It seemed more sensible to get it out of the way the first time through line. However, when I told the ticket agent that my ID was expired, she became a total chatch and went ape on me.

She tried to tell me that there was no way that I could fly with an expired ID and that she wasn't going to issue me a boarding pass. I seriously think she was totally deprived and needed to go on some kind of power trip as revenge/fulfillment for her repressed urges. Finally, she relented (after reading a bunch of mumbo-jumbo off her computer about ID requirements) and gave me the SSSS boarding pass. I got through security screening (although the JFK screeners were so incredibly incompetent that it took awhile) and was on my way.

Fast forward to Sunday night. Leaving LAX to go back to JFK. Once again, I requested a SSSS boarding pass from the ticket agent, simply hoping that he wouldn't be like the chatch at JFK. Instead, he went the other direction. Since I had already printed my boarding pass from the kiosk, he informed me that it didn't say SSSS and it certainly wasn't in his authority to change it. After all, if the machine didn't think that I needed an SSSS, then who was he to question that.

I was begging him to give me the SSSS. I mean, how freaking often do people beg to be put in the secondary line so they can be wanded and patted down? I would not be asking for this if I didn't believe there was a HIGH chance of being rejected by the screener and forced to return to get the updated boarding pass. Given the length of lines and how late we were running, having that happen would assure me of missing the flight.

Still, the ticket agent refused. He looked at my school ID card and said that it was a perfectly good form of ID, and informed me that the screeners had absolutely no authority to reject my boarding pass for lack of an SSSS if he hadn't seen fit to put it on there.

With much trepidation, I went to the screener with my boarding pass and ID. He looked at my boarding pass, glanced at my ID, and handed them back to me, his thumb squarely covering the expiration date as he waived me through without question.

So at the end of the day, what's the answer? Does it matter if your ID is expired? If so, how do you handle it? Do you issue an SSSS boarding pass, or refuse to issue a boarding pass at all? Or do you treat it like it's no big deal.

Until the TSA and the airlines can find a consistent answer to this question, which is based on logic and not arbitrary judgment, I'm going to stick by my assertion that airport security is practically useless, because the enforcers don't even know what they're enforcing.

1. My solution to this is to just remove my shoes, no matter what. I'm not particularly OCD, so I'd rather just avoid the hassle, take off my shoes, and get it over with.

2. The reason that my drivers license, which expired last summer, has not been renewed is a long and sordid tale of woe which would amount to another extremely long post. Suffice to say that I have tried to both get a New York license on multiple occasions as well as apply for a passport, and have been denied on all fronts.

3. Personally, I see no reason why it should matter. The purpose of presenting photo ID is to authenticate that the ticketed passenger is the person who is attempting to board the flight. From that standpoint, a photo ID such as a drivers license, issued by a government agency, is valid for identification purposes whether it is expired or not.

The purpose of a drivers license is to show that you are legally allowed to operate a motor vehicle under the laws of the issuing state. Whether you are still allowed to drive in that state may change given time (and a presumed forgetfulness of traffic laws) or moving violations. Hence, the expiration date. However, the identification purposes of the document are no less valid simply because it will no longer allow you to act as a legal driver.

To tie the identification powers of the drivers license to its expiration date is absolutely illogical, given the purpose of the drivers license and the reason for it having an expiration date. Regardless, some screeners seem to think it matters.

4. And here I thought that the only way to get the SSSS was to fly a one-way ticket or buy tickets with cash, since of course terrorists planning a future attack would follow EXACTLY the same blueprint used by the 9-11 hijackers. Another example of the meaningless precautions added after 9-11.

5. A major problem with post-9-11 security is that it changes constantly. You can never anticipate what is going to matter tomorrow, which makes it a little difficult to effectively cooperate with the security.

The word of the day is "Gluttony"...

...let's go spread the word. fn1.

Lunch today was at Union Square Cafe. I ate entirely too much food. Given that I came back on a red-eye this morning and went straight to work, then consumed about 5000 calories at lunch, I really just want to shut my office door, put my head down on the desk and sleep.

Overall, the food was excellent, the dining setting was great, and the service was superb, which lead to an overall excellent dining experience. We started out by eating a ton of bread. Our waitress kept bringing fresh bread baskets whenever ours was mostly empty. So my cow-orker and I just kept stuffing our faces with bread. The highlight of the bread basket was a thin, crisp soda cracker, which tasted conventional when you first put it in your mouth, but then the taste seemed to grow as it was chewed. An additional nice touch was that the butter was served at close to room temperature, rather than in a frozen block. fn2.

For appetizer, I got the Raviolini, with ricotta, mint, snow peas, braised bibb lettuce, and sauteed morels. It was extremely good, but it was a bit too heavy. By the time I got to the last couple raviolis, I was very glad I hadn't ordered that for my entree. The tastes were great, it was just slightly too much cheese.

For the main course, I ordered the Indian Spiced Vegetables, which featured eggplant, chickpeas, and spinach served with basmati and potato bread. The chickpeas were good, although somewhat underspiced. The eggplant was excellent, with nice subtle flavors. The spinach, unfortunately, was completely forgettable.

Desert, however, was where the restaurant really moved into the spectacular category. We ordered blueberry pie with blueberry ice cream, a raspberry/cherry cobbler with lemon sorbet, and some kind of berry tart that was the special. All three selections were so incredibly good. The pastry melted in your mouth, and the crisp berries blended the perfect mix of tart and sweet. The desert alone makes the trip to the restaurant worthwhile.

So Union Square Cafe gets the big four thumbs up from my lunch party. The dining experience is so enjoyable because of the friendly, attentive waitstaff that some deficiencies in the food could be ignored. However, such deficiencies are almost non-existent, making U.S.C. a great dining choice.

1. The title references one of the all time great "pick-up lines": "The word of the day is legs. Let's go spread the word!" ("Pick-up lines" is in quotes because I don't think this line is has every been successfully used to pick up anyone.)

2. Apparently, this constitutes a health code violation. However, it's one that I'm happy to accept, as I'd much rather have butter that I can actually spread on my bread with crushing the bread into a stiff, doughy mass that is hardly recognizable. Besides, my grandma would leave butter out for hours at a time before putting it back in the fridge, and none of us died from that (how's that for using an almost completely irrelevant anecdote as evidence?).

Mini rant of the day -- STOP SPENDING $$$

So I have this problem -- I think I'm addicted to spending money. Seriously, I am burning cash faster than a 1999-era dot-com.

It's not that I'm going into debt, fortunately. I have income which is supporting these spending habits. But the level of spending and the level of income are closer than they should be. While I don't need to save the money, it would be smart to save the money. I want to pay off my law school loans as quickly as I can. I would like to buy an apartment here in the city, which is never a cheap proposition. Not to mention that saving for retirement is not a terrible idea.

Of course, I like to have explanations for my level of consumption other than just being a shallow materialistic consumer who constantly has to spend money to forget his miserable existence. One constant drain this summer has been travel. However, I enjoy travel and the travel I've done is important, so I can't exactly dismiss those expenses. Then there's clothes. But many of those clothes are for work, and starting a job in a new environment forced me to get a largely new wardrobe.

There's this other category of spending that could be called "electronics." You know, the iPod, digital camera, turntable, upgrade parts for my computer, and all the rest that have constantly been finding their way into my mailbox. fn1. The justification here is that for the past two years of law school (and really the year before that, when I was earning practically nothing), I put off purchasing many things that I wanted to buy. Especially once I was in law school, I knew that I was going to be working in a firm this summer and would have money. So I would always tell myself to wait to spend the money. But now that the money is coming in, it's getting spent.

Not necessarily a good thing. I really need to get it under control. But in theory, I've bought most of the things that I've been wanting to buy. Of course, there is a flat-screen monitor for my computer. But I really think I can hold off. I'll try, anyway. Otherwise, you have my permission to spank me next time you see me.

1. When I was younger and used to go grocery shopping with my mom, we always had this running joke about how certain things (donuts, for example) would "jump into the shopping cart." So it wasn't that I was putting a box of donuts in the cart, I was just facilitating the movement of the donuts who had the independent desire to jump into the cart and go to a good home like ours. These electronics seem to do the same thing. It's not that I try to buy them, then just end up getting bought. Or at least that's what I'd like to believe.

California on my mind

I'm close to booking a flight to San Francisco for the San Francisco Marathon on July 31. Flight prices are so high, but I managed to find a schedule that isn't too terrible for $378.

The whole marathon thing is really bumming me out. I am not in any shape to run a marathon, because I haven't been training. Of course, the main reason for that is that I just don't think my body is cut out for the rigors of marathon training.

My training was interrupted by shin splints, but even after they recovered, my knees hurt. I can often hardly climb stairs without pain in my knees, and sometimes I feel sharp pains in my knees when walking. Both of my heels often hurt -- I think I developed tendinitis from sandals I wore last summer and it's never really gotten better. In addition, the ball of my left foot often has pretty severe pain.

Given the history of arthritis and foot problems in my family, I know it's likely that I'm just not cut out to be a runner. But it's always been my dream to run a marathon. I don't really know why -- I guess it just always seemed like such an ultimate accomplishment. I symbolized mental and physical toughness.

I suppose my attachment to the idea of running 26.2 miles also stems from my mom forcing me to stop running in high school. After it was taken away from me, I think I had the desire to run the longest distance possible. fn1. So when I registered for the marathon back in January, it was really exciting for me. Knowing I had the marathon to train for was really a point of light that helped me handle some particularly dark things I was going through at that time.

So the thought of failing in my quest to fulfill this long-standing goal is difficult for me to contemplate, which is why I want to fly out to San Francisco and run the marathon even though I am completely unprepared.

I could switch down to the half marathon. I know my body pretty well, and I know I could run the half marathon in 2:00 to 2:15 without too much trouble. But that would seem like a kind of failure, to go so far and then to only finish half the distance. But I'm not sure if I have the stamina to run the full marathon right now.

Since I can't switch races until I get to the Expo before the race, I guess I'll just play it by ear...or by legs...and decide if I think I can do the marathon or not. Of course, if I do the marathon, I'm probably looking at 4:30 to 5:00 to finish, which would just be embarrassing. I guess we'll see what happens....

1. Sure, there are ultra marathons and other races longer than 26.2 miles. But the marathon is the longest "normal" race out there.

Email Posting

Poking around in the Blogger.com control panel, I figured out how to
do email posting. I think. We'll see if this works.

If so, this will be a great way to expand my posting abilities, even
if my work happened to cut off access to blogger.com or I want to
post from an email-only terminal.

Meet the Parents

As I implied in my last (and only) post on Friday, J1 and I headed to Michigan last week, ostensibly for my cousin's wedding, but also so that I could introduce J1 to my parents. Overall, the weekend went as well as could be expected.

Rather than babble on and on about it, I will republish J1's account of the weekend, because she's way funnier than I am and it will give you all a different voice to read here. She didn't have a copy of the email, so I had to have K1 send it to me. (To prompt K1 to send it to me, I threatened her with hordes of ninjas, which motivated her to act quickly. fn1.)

So here's J1's story. I will insert my comments as necessary:

(As [another friend] would say:)

GRRL! How YOU doin'?? We missed you guys this weekend! Man alive, it was a loooong 2 days. We were only gone for, like, 48 hours, but it was packed. We got in late, of course. Our plane was delayed a couple of hours, and that's why when I called you from the rental car counter I sounded a "bit" stressed.

What was nice was that these were, hands down, the nicest car rental employees ever. I mean, there was no hint of impatience, no one sighed with frustration, they just kept suggesting different ways to find [BRY]'s name on their reservation list. Meanwhile, N and I felt better since they clearly weren't upset with how long it was taking. And the people waiting in line behind us were nice, too! You KNOW things would not have fared so well had we been holding up a line in NYC.

Anyways, all went well because a few minutes after we got off the phone with you, our dear N suddenly asked, "Wait--would the reservation be under the driver's name?" You should have seen the guy's face--it was priceless! I started chuckling, and he was like,"Um...who's the driver?" So, all ended well when he quickly found [J1] listed on the roster, complete with a reservation for a mid-sized vehicle. Much merriment ensued, and we drove off into the sunset. Literally. Sunset in MI is a little after 9 pm.

It took us a while to get to his place, a little over an hour. We stopped to eat ravenously at a Subway along the way. His family was waiting, almost wide awake, for us when we finally got in after 10:30pm. They're the type of family, I have learned, who likes to sit down together in the family room and "talk." So we had to say hello, hugs went 'round with the introductions, and we sat down in the living room to talk. But, I was exhausted--it is DARK out there in farmland, so I was driving very cautiously, brights flickering on and off throughout a long detour on a country road, and feeling very guilty as fireflies smashed into the windshield, glowing as they died--so I really had to stretch myself to be half as charming as I think I am normally. Teehee!

They finally let us get to bed a little after 11 pm. No, wait. If memory serves correctly, our trip took a lot longer than an hour. We didn't get to bed until midnight. And these are people who normally go to bed at 10 pm. At the outside latest. fn2.

Anyways, Sabbath morning we were up and had family breakfast at 8 am, followed by worship. Got to church, on the DOT, at 9:30 am in time for Sabbath school. Church service was nice, their pastor is a very animated speaker, and I enjoyed his sermon, except I kept nodding off because my 7 am wakeup time started getting to me.

After church I met all their friends/nosy church women who've heard about "a musician from NY!" The usual hobnobbing, you know how that goes. For the most part, I was pleasantly surprised by how nice everyone was. We had lunch at home--yummy casserole!--and then zoomed off to the wedding.

We had his sister, R[], in the car with us, and that was very nice. She is just the sweetest person, not a bad bone in the body. And not in a cloying, annoying way--she's just a genuinely good person. We talked quite a bit all weekend until she left. I really appreciated her friendliness because I know that she's normally a shy person. fn3.

The wedding was beautiful, great church with lots of light. Not too big, about 100-150 people. [BRY]'s mom has a large family. Like, Asian large. Tons of siblings, some of whom weren't even there. These siblings already have grandkids, like 4-5 kids per family. Lots of cute white kids running around the reception hall.

And, yes, since I know you're wondering about now: I was the ONLY Asian at the wedding. In fact, the only other colored people there were the wife and kids of one of the Caucasian groomsmen. Very cute kids, as you can imagine.

Anyways, by the time it was time for the buffet line, I was about ready to pass out. Between trying to learn everyone's faces and names, and who's married to whom, and trying to break down N's mom, I was pooped. AND, they only eat 3 times a day!!!

So I was ready to cry with a headache the size of Lake Michigan, and actually started to FALL ASLEEP in my chair at the dinner table. N's mom caught me, and quickly leaned over to tell her son so that he could help me out. She was actually in a very good mood by then (I think the family reunion and wedding really helped melt the iceberg within) so when I heard whispering, my eyes popped open, and I found the whole family smiling and chuckling at me, but in a very nice way.

So we were finally dismissed for the buffet tables and we all ate copious amounts of very bland food. There was little conversation due to extreme hunger. But after recovering, we actually had a fun time. I was ecstatic to find out that many of Nathan's aunties, uncles and cousins are funny, bright and kind people. And they dress normally!!! One of the favorites, Aunt V[], was decked out and accessorized appropriately by Chicos. They seemed to really like getting to know me....

Oh boy. This has turned into a very long account! This is why one such as I should never try to keep a blog. It would simply derail into a rambling mess, overrun with the weeds of needless words! I'll definitely tell you more when I see you....

Suffice it to say that, all in all, it was a long but productive weekend. His dad really likes me, as does his siblings. Especially J[]. I kept having to avoid his gaze because I'd catch him staring at me during family talking times. Slightly disturbing, but basically harmless. More on that later.

I think his mom was torn. She really wanted to like me--who couldn't love the WOJ?--but Nathan and I could tell she was trying to pull herself back. But the family was so hospitable, they let me sleep in R[]'s room. The food was extremely healthy but tasty, which was lucky for me since I was experiencing caffeine and sugar withdrawals, along with fatigue from missing my usual 6 meals a day....

So that was our weekend, at least from J1's perspective. From my perspective, I thought it was great. Of course she was charming and lovable, as she always is. I can't say how much I appreciate her spending time with my family like she did.

1. K1 knows, as well as anyone, that the purpose of the ninja is to flip out and kill people. You certainly do not want hordes of them coming after you. I mean, one time, I saw a ninja totally uppercut a kid just for opening a window.

2. We didn't leave the airport until well after 9:00. Then, with the stop in Jackson to go to Subway and a very long detour, it was nearly 11 when we got home.

3. Actually, R[] was with us for the ride home. On the ride down, my brother J[] was in the car. It was pretty hilarious, because J1 had him so intimidated that he couldn't even tell his usual unending stories that no one really wants to hear.

Great minds.....

think along the same lines.

Last night, J1, K1, S1, and I were going to get together for dinner, but we hadn't decided on where or when.

I got on the train a little after 5:00 to go uptown to for an appointment, and started looking at the subway map to figure out where we should meet. I was hoping to find something close to both the 1/2/3 (convenient for K1, J1, and I) and the F (convenient for S1). I was going to suggest the West Village but couldn't think of anywhere that sounded good to me. Then I thought of K-Town, because a co-worker and I had gone to a good Korean restaurant up there a few weeks ago.

So I composed a text message around 5:10 saying "Let's go to K-Town, because it's close to everyone's trains."

Of course, unbeknownst to me, at 5:07 K1 had sent out the following email message:
Hey all,

So let's meet downtown somewhere. How do you guys feel about Korean
food in Ktown? I have no idea what's good there, but Tofu soup sounds
good to me. Maybe because i'm in a freezing office right now. Let me
know.

Needless to say, we ended up in K-Town and got some tasty food from Kom Tang Soot Bul Kal Bi, and everyone was happy. That's what happens when you have people like us working together. ROCK!

Fun after fireworks

On Fourth of July, J1, K1, S1, and I went to Coney Island for the afternoon to hang out at the beach. We were trying to get back to Brooklyn Heights for the fireworks, but didn't make it back in time. So we ended up watching the fireworks from a subway platform on the F with a bunch of other New Yorkers.

It was a decent view and it was hella fun to hang out with a little crowd of people who just wanted to enjoy the fireworks. Afterwards, K1 snapped a picture of all of us:



That's S1, BRY, J1, and K1. Aren't we cute, all bathed in the glow of the subway lights? It's like we're hallowed angels. hahaha.

Lucky fortune

I've been meaning to post about this for awhile. Last week, J1, K1, S1 and I were all dining at VP2. fn1. The food was excellent, as always. When we finished, the waiter brought us the check and fortune cookies.

I grabbed one and cracked it open, to find this fortune:
"You would make a good lawyer."

Of course, everyone found this highly amusing. I suppose I did as well, although I'm not entirely fired up about this whole "being a lawyer" thing.

However, I've reconciled myself to the fortune. After all, it merely said that I would be a skilled lawyer. fn2. There are plenty of things that I'd good at doing that I wouldn't necessarily want to do. I mean, maybe I'd be a great go-go dancer, but that doesn't mean that I'll pursue a career doing that.

Most importantly, the fortune did not say, "You were MEANT to be a lawyer," as misquoted by K1. Just because I'm good at something doesn't mean I'm meant to do it. So I'm going to assume that this is the meaning of my fortune. I guess it's better than one saying, "You would make a terrible lawyer. Do not pursue such a career."

1. I'm trying to figure out a way to get a couple more abbreviations into that sentence.

2. It is possible that by "good lawyer" the fortune was implying an ethical, just, or selfless lawyer. But since such characteristics are almost impossible to find in lawyers, I'm going to assume that the fortune author could never have envisioned such a reading of the fortune.

Special cups...won't change the taste of what's inside

At work we have this coffee system which is supposed to provide special coffee for each person through individualized packet brewing. There are several flavors of coffee (french roast, house blend, etc.) in single-serve packets. You take a packet, put it in the machine, and it dispenses your coffee in your cup, where you can sugar and cream it to your specifications.

This all sounds great -- except that the coffee is terrible. All of the flavors are pretty universally terrible. Bitter, watery, and burnt are only a few of the terms one could use to describe what it tastes like.

This week, the typical styrofoam cups (white with garish turquoise and magenta splashes of color) were replaced by new, sexy cups. They are a sand color, with dark chocolate lettering. Adorned with little coffee beans and steaming coffee mugs, the cups declare, "Espresso, Cappuccino, Latte, Cafe, Iced!"

That's wonderful and beautiful, but it doesn't change the fact that the coffee coming out of the machine tastes like dookie. I mean, the cup can say "cappuccino" all it wants and the french roast will still taste burnt and bitter.

Plain cups please. Really. The extra cost of the printed ones really isn't worth it.

Narrow Escape

As a summer associate, I think conference calls are generally the bane of my existence. fn1. They involve me getting called into some partner's office with one or two other associates and sitting there, pad of paper in my lap and pen in hand, trying to look interested in what is being said by a bunch of nameless, faceless people whose voices blare scratchily from the phone.

The problem is that in a vast majority of cases, I have no what is being discussed. I don't have the general background in either law or business necessary to understand the terminology and acronyms. I don't know about specific deal in question, so I don't understand the situation or have any clue about the background.

So attending a conference call basically consists of me hearing people I don't know talk about subject matter I don't understand relating to a deal I've never heard of. Not really the most scintillating thing in the world. Yet I have to look engaged and pretend that I have some clue what is being said, rather than staring at the deal toys lining the partner's office and counting how many bound deal sets the partner has on his shelf.

This morning, I had to sit through one conference call. It was first thing, so I gulped down a banana for some temporary energy and was forced to leave my muffin for a later time so I wouldn't miss the call. This afternoon, I had another call scheduled, which I wasn't anticipating with glee. However, it got postponed, as it devolved into a discussion of issues not relevant to me and the associate who was supposed to be involved. So I made a narrow escape from conference call purgatory, at least for the time being.

1. As an associate, conference calls are generally great. They may create some work for you, but they're thirty minutes or an hour of solid billable time that you didn't really have to work for. You just sit there and the call happens to you. As you become more senior, you may have to do more than take notes during a call, but it's still a quick and easy way to build up billable hours.

Pizza! Pizza! (fn1)

Today, we had a rather large group lunch at Grimaldi's Pizza. Located in Brooklyn Heights, Grimaldi's has been named New York's best pizza by Zagat's for six years running. So about 35 of us (two-thirds or so of the summer class) trekked over to Brooklyn for some quality New York Pizza.

We took Lotus cars over there. In typical Lotus car fashion, the driver was absolutely incompetent, had no idea where we were going, and got us completely lost in Brooklyn. It took us about 15 minutes longer to get to the restaurant than it should have.

However, the payoff made the wait worthwhile. It was my first time at Grimaldi's, and after eating one slice of the sublime tomato and basil pizza, I wondered why it took me two years to make it there. The only pizza I've ever had that comes close is Patsy's, but that's not nearly as good. The crust is thin and perfectly crisp. The sauce is tangy. The cheese and fresh and has a full flavor. The basil adds just the right about of spice.

Oh, and did I mention that the price is right? Large pies only cost around $15, and are enough to feed two to three people. With the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory right around the corner, it's a perfect spot to hit for a little visit.

To get back to Manhattan, we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. Fortunately, we had advance warning of this plan and permission to bring casual clothes to change into. However, I really don't think there is anything funnier than a bunch of slightly overdressed law kids, coming from legal summer camp, trekking across the Brooklyn Bridge in 85-degree heat, jostling for position with bikers, runners, and tourists. It really wasn't that fun of a trip, as our summer coordinator (who moonlights as an aerobics instructor) set a brutal pace. But a good time was had by all, and we could cool off all afternoon in the air conditioning.

Good times, good times.

1. The title is a reference to the Little Caesars pizza commercials. For those of you who don't know (I don't want to do overkill here, but Little Caesar's is headquartered in Michigan, and I'm not really sure how widely spread the chain is in the rest of the country), LC is one of those Domino's-like pizza chains that specializes in selling large quantities of bad pizza at moderate prices. Like many fast-food chains, they decided that an ideal way to encourage customer obesity would be to encourage people to buy pizza in pairs. So rather than having coupons for one large pizza, or one medium pizza, they would have a special on "two large two-topping pizzas," or something like that. Hence, the "Pizza! Pizza!" slogan.

Conflicts, conflicts

So on the train down Monday morning, I was reading in metro about how dinosaur, jr. was reunited and touring. If you haven't ever listened to dinosaur, jr. you should have. They were one of the key 1980s bands (along with Husker Du and the Pixies) that fused the guitar pyrotechnics of metal with the energy of punk to form what became known as "grunge" or "alternative" rock in the 1990s. Just a great, great band with a lot of sweet guitar work.

However, they broke up years ago (typical intra-band squabbles) and went on to other projects. For example, one of the members went on to form Folk Implosion, best known for their hit off the Kids soundtrack ("Natural One"). Anyway, they are back together and playing in New York on Thursday evening.

I got pretty excited, because I haven't seen any good rock shows in forever. Probably Pearl Jam last fall was the last, given that bizarre scheduling conflicts have forced me to miss Autolux and some other shows that I really wanted to see. I was even happier when I realized that the show would be free, because it's part of Summer Stage at Central Park. fn1.

However, like a bully stealing a little girl's doll and rubbing its face in the dirt, my dream was torn from my hands and spoiled when I realized that I have a firm outing on Thursday. Don't get me wrong -- I'm excited about going out to some phatty country club in Long Island and golfing for the day. fn2. I suppose I would be even more excited if I was going to hang out at the pool and check out my hottie co-workers in bikinis, except that there's really no one around here who I'm interested in seeing clad in a bikini, and even if there were, that would be more than offset by the negative feelings caused by the people who I really don't want to see wearing bathing suits.

I mean, if you want to see hot bodies in swimwear, you just DO NOT go to a law firm event. Besides, it's just weird.

But I digress. My point is that I'm annoyed that my golf outing is preventing me from seeing dinosaur jr. I'm also encouraging all of you to show up at Rumsey Playfield at 6pm on Thursday to hear the show for me.

1. Ok, so on further inspection, I discovered that the concert is a benefit concert for the Summer Stage program, so it costs $40. So I'm not as disappointed, but disappointed none the less.

2. I would be even more excited if I didn't have to be in Long Island for this event.

The Glorious Profession of Law

My officemate just sent me one of my favorite email forwards of all time (I've probably received it four or five times). The subject: Actual things attorneys have said in court.

ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: Uh, he's twenty-one.


ATTORNEY: So the date of conception of the baby was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Uh...



ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?



ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?


And my favorite....
ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: But could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

Attack of the Fuzzy Forearms!

From the same network that brought you "When Demented Pets Attack," we introduce a new series showing the havoc wreaked by a new menace to society....it's "Attack of the Fuzzy Forearms"!! See how fuzzy forearms invade personal space, assaulting innocent victims with ticklish stimulation and outright revulsion! Watch children cower in fear as fuzzy forearms hunt them down. All this and more on "Attack of the Fuzzy Forearms." Every Wednesday night at 8:30, only on FOX!

I'm telling you, fuzzy forearms just get no love these days. No love at all. fn1. K1 seems to have had a particularly bad encounter with a man sick with yellow fever who just happened to have fuzzy forearms. See, read that post. This guy is obvious disturbed, and has a slightly bizarre method of trying to hit on women. fn2. But somehow, fuzzy forearms take a starring role in the story, with several mentions.

Or maybe I'm just overly sensitive. As many know, I have a little fuzz on my arms. Ok, a lot. Enough that it has been combed, parted, and attracted suggestions that I braid and bead it. So I feel the need to stick up for fuzzy forearms everywhere. So if you see someone with fuzzy forearms today, give them some love. It's the least you can do. fn3.

1. I realize this statement does not take into account the 14-year-old girl who petted my arms repeatedly and referred to me as "her fuzzy." And I suppose telling me that her mom would let her take me home so she could pet me every day could count as some twisted kind of love. But while some would argue that twisted love is better that no love at all, we here at BRY are strongly supportive of healthy, loving relationships. None of this weird, twisted, fuzzy-forearm-fetish kind of stuff.

2. I have to wonder if he just likes making people uncomfortable, or if he thinks his extremely awkward methods of hitting on girls is going to get him some.

3. Unless, of course, the owner of the fuzzy forearm is a creepy guy with yellow fever. In that case, kick him in the jimmy. Then laugh.

Making like a tree and getting out of here

Well, dear readers, I'm off to Michigan (for my cousin's wedding) for the weekend. I'm running about 15 minutes late, and that's after cutting lunch short so I could finish work.

Imagine that -- not staying for dessert so I could WORK! What a disaster!

The weekend should be interesting, particularly because it will be the first time for my parents meeting J1. That, and the weather forecast is calling for temperatures around 90 in Michigan. And my parents don't have AC. And my mom believes it is immoral to wear shorts. Yeah, this is going to be fun.

See you all Monday, or maybe Sunday night.

Just so that no one thinks I'm an idiot who does not understand similes, the title of this post is a reference to the outstanding classic movie of time travel, Back to the Future. It was actually my second choice title, after "I'm off like a prom dress." However, BRY is ostensibly a family-friendly, or at least work-safe, site. So I decided to leave the overt reference to images of wanton teen sex to the small type, rather than the headline. Hey, you don't have to thank me. I'm just a nice guy like that!

In solidarity with those in London

I just wanted to post a quick note to share my sympathies with those hurt and the families of those killed in the terrorist bombings which occurred this morning in London's public transportation system. This is a tragic event, and I only hope that the loss of life is as minimal as possible.

It's frightening to see these things happen -- something similar could so easily happen here. Londoners are in my thoughts and prayers today.

The problem with entitlement attitudes

I realized today that I have a huge problem with people who have entitlement attitudes, but don't extend the same favor to the rest of society in return.

Three recent examples:

I've seen three thugs over the past week or so wearing "stop snitching" shirts. fn1. One said "Stop watching me. Go home and watch TV." The very idea behind these shirts just angers me to no end. It's the idea that thugs should have the right to break the law in whatever way they like, and no one should be able to do anything about it. Listen, if you have the right to be a drug dealer, I should have a right to call the cops on you if I want. At least extend to me the same courtesy of free action that you claim you should have for yourself.

Last week, a panhandler asked me for money while J1 and I were finishing up dinner at a sidewalk table on Broadway. I ignored him, but when he persisted, I told him no thanks. He responded that I should "go f*** myself." fn2. If you have the right to disturb me while I'm eating dinner and ask me for money, I have just as much of a right to tell you no. It's an equality issue -- my right to action is as important as your right to action.

Of course, most prominent in my mind is the psycho domestic felon we encountered last weekend. He seemed to think that he had the right to beat up on his woman without anyone calling the police. Again, I have as much of a right to act as you do. If you're going to exercise your right, then I can exercise mine.

In all these situations, I would prefer that people behaved in a proper way. I don't want to be asked for money, I am opposed to domestic abuse, and I wish thugs would stop committing crimes. But these bottom hangers of society should at least recognize that the rest of us have as much right to action as they do.

1. The whole "stop snitching" thing really came out into the open when Denver Nuggets star Carmelo Anthony appeared (allegedly without knowledge of the end product) in a Stop Snitching video set in Baltimore.

2. Larger issues aside, this is a clear violation of the simple bum code, which every panhandler should understand. If you're going to ask people for money and they ignore you (which means "no") or tell you no, then you move on. No one is required to give you money. If they were, everyone would become a panhandler. It's a hell of a lot better gig than working 9-5 in an office. So don't get pissed at me when I tell you no. Life just doesn't work that way.

Definitional Issues

It's good to know that there are some aspects of being a lawyer that sit well with me. For example, I love details. They may drive me nuts sometimes, and I may hate doing the work to get them all correct, but I can argue about minutiae for hours. So I can appreciate the aspect of putting together a deal that involves ensuring that all the minutiae is defined correctly.

Right now, I'm doing some stuff for an aircraft financing deal. Part of my work involves looking at the definitions for the credit agreement. Of course, in this list of definitions is the term "Aircraft." fn1. The definition of aircraft states that it includes "the manuals and technical records" of the aircraft. fn2.

While this seems anal, it's actually a really good idea. You know how whenever you buy a used car, it's so hard to find a seller who actually has the manual and maintenance receipts to sell with the car? You get this car and Daylight Savings Time ends but you have no freaking clue how to change the clock, because you don't have the manual. So you're constantly having to subtract an hour whenever you want to know what time it is. And your passengers have heart attacks because they think you're running really late when in actuality, the clock is just an hour off.

So my point is, it's good that if the lenders ever need to repossess the planes, they'll be able to get the manuals. That way the pilots can know how to correctly set the clock in the cockpit. Not that this will help them get you anywhere on time, but at least then they can tell you just how late you are.

1. When looking at loan agreements, you learn that practically no term is too mundane or obvious to be defined. I'm sometimes surprised that "of" and "the" aren't defined straight out of Webster's Dictionary, just to avoid any confusion. (Surprisingly, a provision stating that "words not defined will be given their typical business or English meaning" isn't even included in the Rules of Construction section. However, the RoC includes the important provision that "words importing the plural shall include the singular and vice versa." I'm telling you, all the bases are covered.)

2. Not surprisingly, "manuals and technical records" is also defined.

"Start spreading the news..."

The New York Times is reading Black Red Yellow.

As most people know, I am rather obsessed with statistics. They provide a sort of general entertainment value for me. So since I started the blog and installed Stat Counter, I have spent wholly too much time looking at my pageload statistics. fn1. I derive endless amusement from figuring out who's reading and what OS my friends are running.

I've also noticed that we have a faithful reader in the UK, so here's a shout out to her/him. We're glad to have you on board. Every now and then, we'll spell words like "colour" the right way, just for you. :)

Anyway, looking at the ISP statistics, I noticed that we had a visitor from the Times. Apparently, they were searching for references to Judith Miller (the Times reporter threatened with imprisonment for refusing to release information on confidential sources in relation to the Valerie Plame investigation), which I discussed last week. They stuck around for a few minutes -- at least long enough to read the post in question.

Anyway, BRY is thrilled to have the nation's premeier newspaper on board. I feel like this gives the endeavor some sort of legitimacy. fn2.

1. I highly recommend Stat Counter to anyone who would like to keep usage stats for a website. It provides great details. Of course, the best part is that it's free. I remember only a few years ago (ok, I guess it was over five years ago, which is an eternity in internet time) I was trying to find free stat counters for a site I was running. There was nothing out there, other than the completely useless "odometer"-style counters that show up at the bottom of the page and show how many page-loads you get.

2. Obviously, having the New York Times stop by is not nearly as cool as having people show up who are searching for "Olsen Twins Nude," as happened to K1.

iPod Crashed

So my week got off to an inauspicious start when my iPod suddenly stopped working on my way to work. I was just standing on the train -- not moving, not holding my iPod, not doing anything to it -- when suddenly it froze with 24 seconds left on the track that was playing.

Pushing buttons seemed to do no good....it was just stuck. It is still sitting in my desk, backlight on, stuck at 24 seconds. Kind of reminiscent of the old Johnny Cash song, "25 Minutes to Go." Except in that case, I think the subject of the song would have been happy to get stuck at 24 minutes.

So now I guess I'll do some internet research and try to figure out if there's any fix for what happened, or what caused the problem.

Update:
Well, I just checked it and found that the battery has died (amazing how quickly the battery will drain when the backlight is running constantly). When I press buttons, the Apple logo comes up (indicating that it went into "deep sleep") and then the low battery warning is displayed.

In the meantime, I found advice on iPod Garage which indicated that if the problem happens in the future, I should hold down the "menu" and center button at the same time to force the iPod to reset itself.

Hopefully, once I take it home and recharge it, all will be well.

I hate domestic violence

Tonight (Sunday night), I had one of the most scary experiences of my time in New York.

J1, K1, and I went to dinner at Flor de Mayo. After dinner, we headed over to Cafe Lalo for coffee. Lalo was packed, but we finally managed to get a table, where I had an excellent Orangina.

Once we finished, around 12:45 or 1, we went outside and ended up sitting and talking on one of the benches facing Lalo, because it was an absolutely beautiful night. This was when the trouble started.

K1 and I were having a meaningless but highly amusing conversation about how suit pants should be tailored while J1 talked to her sister (fn1) on the phone. Suddenly, this couple went up the stairs of the apartment next to the cafe, kind of struggling with each other. The guy pulled the door open and forced the girl inside and went in behind her.

The couple stood in the vestibule arguing and it quickly became clear that this was a domestic dispute, and that it was a familiar pattern of behavior for both individuals. K1 debated calling 911, but there wasn't really anything going on at that point -- just two people arguing. So we just sat and watched, hoping that our presence would provide some kind of protective shield.

Unfortunately, I think our being there encouraged the woman to escalate the situation, as she repeatedly told the man, "People are watching. Do whatever the f*** you want." They went back and forth, yelling at each other, with the man standing firmly in front of the door, preventing the woman from leaving.

Finally, she decided she had had enough and tried to leave. That was when the fighting began. The man was determined to stop the woman from leaving. They were throwing each other against the walls of the small area, and at one point it looked like she was trying to bite him.

K1 stood up as if to try to intervene. J1 and I told her to sit back down and just call the police. She did, but of course this devolved into a lengthy process as she tried to explain to the dispatcher exactly where we were and what we were witnessing.

After more fighting, the woman managed to force herself part way out the door. However, her purse was still sitting on the floor by the door, and as she reached for it, the man tried to crush her in the door. K1, still on the phone with 911, started walking over and climbed the first step, as if to intervene. We yelled at her to get back, and she reluctantly stepped back to the sidewalk.

In the meantime, the woman managed to squirm out of the door and ran down the steps. The man followed her out, and immediately approached K1 menacingly. "I know you ain't talking to the cops about what you're seeing," he told her in threatening tones.

Standing a good 6'3" and a well-built 240, he leaned in toward her. I wasn't about to let my friend get beat up by this thug, so I walked over, trying to appear as imposing as possible. fn2.

My advance had the intended result, distracting him from K1. He immediately turned toward me and made a fist and flexed, shaking his fist at me. "What the f*** you gonna do?" he demanded. I stared straight at him and said nothing. The reason I said nothing was because my insides were jelly and my heart was beating at about 250 beats per minute. If I even tried to speak, my voice would have been quivering like aspen leaves in a tornado. I seriously thought I was about three seconds away from needing massive reconstructive surgery for my face. So I just stared him down, trying to look as angry as possible.

He turned and walked away, shouting "Huh?" over his shoulder, as if that was one last challenge to my abilities, despite the fact that he was the one walking away. I am sure that the main thing which saved me from a major beating was that he was more concerned, at that moment, with following his girlfriend so he could try to beat her some more, and realized he was wasting valuable time with me and K1. However, it also shows that domestic abusers are generally really big p*ssies. I mean, this dude could have destroyed me with one punch. But you'd never want to fight with someone who might possibly fight back. Better to beat up on your co-dependent partner who will take the abuse.

So he disappeared into the night, and we were left, terrified, to deal with the many conflicting emotions. We couldn't turn away, and we couldn't leave, as long as there was this person within our sight who appeared to be in immediate danger. Yet intervening directly would have done no good. The worst part is that by now, three hours later, they're probably back together. We may have prevented violence at that moment, but it was almost certainly worse when he finally found her.

The cycle is so incredibly frustrating. It makes you feel so angry and so helpless all at the same time...wanting to prevent the violence, yet knowing that the people involved will willingly keep coming back for more.

Finally, at home, I put some Miles on the turntable and tried to chill and decompress. I'm not as angry now, but I think I'm more sad.

Update: You can read K1's account of the events here.

1. Happy Birthday S4!

2. Yes, you can stop laughing now. If I was going to walk over there, I was going to at least look like I thought I had game to flaunt. Besides, K1 was still on the phone. She needed to talk to the dispatcher, not waste her time with this piece of refuse masquerading as a human being.

The best .... of my life

Tonight, J1 and I were joined by S1 for dinner at Thailand Cafe in the East Village. The restaurant specializes in Thai (fn1) and vegetarian food.

Among other things, we ordered the Vegetarian Duck Panang, which had a coconut curry with soy "duck" meat. fn2. It was extremely good -- a nice blend of dominant and subordinate flavors. fn3.

At one point, I wanted to comment on how tasty the fake duck was. As I was about to say "fake duck," I started to combine letters and sounds and thought up a GREAT short-hand for describing fake duck. It involves removing the first letter of one word and replacing it with the first letter of the other word to create a common slang term often considered inappropriate for family audiences.

But my point is that I had a great fakeduck at the Thailand Cafe tonight. In fact, I'd go out on a limb and say it was the best fakeduck I've ever had. fn4.

I highly recommend Thailand Cafe, regardless of whether you go there to get fakeducked or not. I dare say that the food was as good or better than what I had at Spice Market on Friday, and at about a quarter of the price. Sure, the atmosphere at Spice Market is great. But is it worth paying four times as much for food that isn't any better, and maybe is inferior, to what you could get in the East Village? Probably not.

1. I know. I wouldn't have guessed it from seeing the name either, so I thought I would make it clear to all my readers.

2. Should that be "duck" meat, duck "meat," or "duck meat"? Or maybe "duck" "meat." Whatever the case, the point is that it was fake meat designed to resemble duck.

3. This refers to part of our post-dinner conversation. The information I learned from S1 tonight has completely revolutionized the way I will taste and think about food in the future. However, it's probably the topic for another post.

4. Of course, it's the only fake duck I've ever had, so I don't have anything to compare it to. Regardless, it was really good.

My body feels young but my mind is very old

Here's what I received in today's mail:

AARP Office of the Executive Director
Washington, D.C. 20049

Dear Mr. Black Red Yellow,
Our records show that you haven't yet registered for the benefits of AARP membership, even though you are fully eligible.
....
As a member, you'll have the resources and information you need to get the most out of life over 50. You'll have access to exclusive discounts. Dependable insurance programs and investment resources. Important health-related information. And much more....

I think you'll agree with our other members: AARP is one of America's very best values.

Sincerely,

/s/

William D. Novelli
Executive Director

On the back of the registration card: "AARP guarantees your admission as long as you are 50 or over, whether you are working or retired." fn1.

I really don't know what to say to this, other than that I am clearly getting older. That, or the AARP needs to fix their data collection system.

1. How about if you're a student? Do they have a category for that?

O'Connor steps down from High Court

Sandra Day O'Connor, the first woman to serve on the Supreme Court, has announced her retirement in a letter to President George W. Bush. O'Connor sat on the Court for 24 years. This sets up Bush's first opportunity to make a Supreme Court appointment.

I think O'Connor was a voice of moderation that will be greatly missed on the court. While I certainly didn't agree with all her opinions and votes, I believe that O'Connor provided an important bridge between the court's extreme right wing (Scalia and Thomas) and more liberal justices such as Breyer and Ginsberg. Often swayed by pragmatic arguments, O'Connor rarely came across as an ideologue bent on forcing the facts of cases to conform to her pre-existing view of the world. This is, to me, a vital part of being a judge and an ability that is severely lacking in Thomas and Scalia, two justices that Bush has said he admires most.

O'Connor's departure signals the beginning of what will probably be the biggest political fight of Bush's second term in office. Because of O'Connor's role as one of the Court's leading moderates and "swing voters," appointing someone substantially to the left or right would dramatically shift the balance of power. As a result, moderates and liberals in the Senate will bitterly fight anyone who they regard as too conservative.

In addition, interest groups on both the left and right have been salivating for this fight ever since Bush was elected. Any nominee is going to receive exceptional scrutiny.

One way out of this fight might be for Bush to appoint Alberto Gonzales, currently the Attorney General. Other than some blips in his record regarding terrorism suspects, he is a solid moderate. While conservatives wouldn't be thrilled by the choice, Senate Democrats would likely be fairly happy with the choice, knowing that Gonzales would not dramatically shift the Court's balance. This would give Bush some breathing room and allow him to pick a more conservative nominee if Chief Justice William Rehnquist retires soon (which would not be surprising, given his current fight with thyroid cancer). Since Rehnquist has been reliably conservative, Democrats would probably not be as opposed to his replacement with another conservative.

However, Bush has never shown a propensity for taking a politically feasible alternative it might alienate his far-right base, and I wouldn't count on it happening here either.

Spice Market

Finally made it to Spice Market (Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s Asian fusion venture in the Meatpacking District) for lunch today. I had been wanting to go there for awhile.

Was it worth the wait? I suppose so, although I wasn't blown away. The restaurant is worth visiting for the decor alone. Set in a cavernous former warehouse, the design is both airy and heavy, blending traditional Asian fabrics and designs with elaborate French fixtures and stark modern flair.

Some of the food was outstanding, but some was merely good. Of special note were the Vietnamese spring rolls, fried to a perfect crispness without being overly oily. The flavors were well blended, and were nicely complemented by the spicy dipping sauce. The spicy green papaya salad was also a treat, garnished with cherry tomatoes and cashews.

The main course was somewhat less satisfying, for both vegetarians and meat-eaters alike. The green vegetable curry was disappointingly under-flavored, and the vegetables were not particularly high-quality. The baby corn andbroccolii was excellent. Meat-eaters judged the chicken curry to be good, but not better than what is available at good Malaysian restaurants in Chinatown for a quarter of the price.

Dessert was excellent, however. The house specialty is the Ovaltine kulfi, garnished with caramelized banana, whipped cream, and caramel corn, which packs enough calories to be its own meal.

On a whole, it's a place worth checking out for the decor and some of the good dishes, but I don't think it would crack my top five restaurants of the summer.

The Law of Conservation of Binder Clips

Finishing up my second rotation today, I decided that it was time to clean up my office and recycle some of the unsightly stacks of paper currently cluttering my desk. As I threw stuff away, I removed some binder clips from documents, and picked up other binder clips floating around my desk. As I collected them and put them back in their appropriate boxes, I saw that the boxes were still almost full. I was somewhat surprised, as I had noticed a few days ago that I was getting low and thought I would need to visit the supply room to restock my supply.

This prompted a realization in my mind: The world basically has a fixed supply of binder clips -- they only are passed from one person to another. There should be a scientific law that captures this phenomenon, similar to the Law of Conservation of Matter and Energy (also known as the First Law of Thermodynamics). fn1.

The Law of Conservation of Binder Clips would go something like this:
Binder clips can neither be created or destroyed, they are only transferred from one office to another.

Sure, it's not entirely true. Binder clips occasionally are taken out of circulation when they are on documents put into cold storage, or when they are thrown away. But for the most part, they just trade hands as people send documents to each other.

I am so brilliant that it hurts to be me!

1. The First Law of Thermodynamics states that "matter and energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it only changes forms." Wikipeida has more information, for the intellectually curious members of the audience. (The more scientifically inclined readers may argue that the phrase "intellectually curious" in the preceding sentence is really just a synonym for "ignorant," as the truly intellectually curious would have learned about something as basic as the First Law of Thermodynamics long ago. But here at Black Red Yellow, we don't judge readers based on knowledge level -- we're accepting like that.)

Indications of my importance in the world, or "How I screwed up at work again"

A couple days ago, I came to the somewhat depressing realization that my importance in the world (and by "world" I mean "workplace") is measured entirely by email and voicemail messages.

Basically, all of my work and assignments start out with either an email or a phone call saying, "I have an assignment for you. Come to my office and we'll talk." No one ever pops their head in my door and says, "Hey, can I talk to you about an assignment?" Especially now, because the group I'm working with sits on a different floor than I do. I think they would rather move heaven and earth -- or really, really large stacks of paper -- rather than walking up one flight of stairs to talk to me. fn1. Which is just fine with me.

Consequently, if I step away from my office and return to an empty in-box and no phone messages, it means that I absolutely was not missed. I might as well have stayed away longer. Which is what made me realize my relative unimportance in the world -- the only thing that makes it worthwhile for me to show up at work is an email or a voicemail. If I don't get any of those, then I would have been just as effective sitting at home. fn2.

The corollary to this, however, is that as soon as I do get a message, I am very important. Meaning that while if I respond to the message, I am going to be given fairly minor work which will only be a small part of any given deal. But if I do not respond to the message, then I look VERY bad. It's a lose-lose-lose situation.

Lose 1: My worth is measured by whether or not I have received an email. Pretty sad.

Lose 2: If I respond to a message, about the best I can do is to not screw up. I can at best marginally improve my position.

Lose 3: If I don't respond to the message, then I look like a huge slacker and a weak link.

So this morning, I moved on to "Lose 3," which is arguably the worst level of losing. I overslept and was slow getting ready, which meant that I slithered into my office at 10:25 -- late even by my standards. I figured it was my last day in the group, and the day before a long weekend, so I should be ok.

Of course, I was very wrong. In my inbox was a messaged with an 8:58 timestamp, asking me to call another attorney. I called her immediately, but she said that "her problem had gone away." Which means that either she did the work herself, or found another summer to do it. Either way, not only do I look like a huge slacker, but I didn't even have a chance to atone for myself by doing extra-good work.

**** me. I'm such an idiot.

1. I suppose moving really, really large stacks of paper is what attorneys spend most of their time doing. So maybe the analogy is a bit off.

2. However, my apartment unfortunately does not have nearly as spectacular views as my office. The Statue of Liberty beats looking at my neighbors' shade-covered windows and a tiny sliver of daylight any day.