From MSNBC:  "Space storm hits; Earth survives"  Whew, I was worried that we hadn't!

I have posted my New York City trip photos.  You can check them out here.  To nobody's surprise, there are quite a few of them, so take care on a slower connection.

They say that the great thing about a digital camera is that, because there is no cost or issue of film involved, you can take pictures with much more abandon than you would with a traditional camera.  I find this to be a blessing...and a curse!  When on a trip, I want to preserve the memories of where I've been, and in doing so, I tend to take pictures all the time - averaging 150 to 250 each time!  So as we were walking down the streets of NYC, a not-uncommon occurrence was for me to ask Ian and Carrie to stop for a second so I could take a shot of an interesting building or scene.  A tourist I surely was.

On Sunday, my last day in The City, Ian and I walked to Central Park.  The term "park" does not adequately conjure the right image of what Central Park is, as one tends to envision a typical city park.  Grass and trees, sure, maybe a pond or a fountain.  But in reality, Central Park shares more in common with a state park in terms of size and environment.  Ok, so maybe its a bit more cultivated than Lake Ahquabi, but in Manhatten, who would expect less?  Filled with pedestrians, bike riders and jibbering gray squirrels, the park was at once full of life yet still open a peaceful - a soothing green getaway in the busy metropolis.

At Belvedere Castle ("Wesley, you slime." - Mr. Belvedere) in the Park, some actors were preparing to perform a halloween show, so to get the audience in the spirit, the Ghostbusters theme was playing.  I found this hilarious as the movie took place in NYC and throughout the trip I kept spotting places from the movies.  I also saw a skull along the shore of the lake near the castle - probably a prop, but perhaps evidence of something...darker.

By this time my feet were killing me - specifically my achilles tendon.  But it was my last day in the City and I wasn't about to spend it sitting at home, so onwards we walked, through the Park and down 5th Avenue.  At the CBS building, we found that they were shooting the CBS Sports NFL Pre-Game Show.  On hand were Dan Marino, Deion Sanders, and Boomer Esiason, though here's a confession - Carrie had to later tell me who they were from a photo.  While I knew the names, I am *not* a football follower, so I didn't have faces for the names.  Ok, I did know Dan Marino, though that was (another confession) due to his part in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.

We next went past the New York Public Library (home of the ghost at the beginning of Ghostbusters.  And some books.) and on to Rockefeller Center.  After taking a little time to watch the traditional "Ice Skaters at Rockefeller" scene, we went to the NBC studios next door to catch the NBC Experience Tour. 

On the tour, we visited the sets of Dateline NBC, The John Walsh Show (which I didn't know existed), and Saturday Night Live.  It was interesting to learn inside secrets like how small the SNL set really is (the sets are trucked in each Thursday from Brooklyn and assembled in a jigsaw pattern in a relatively small area), that the Dateline set isn't HDTV-ready (shortcuts like "brushed metal accents" made from spraypainted tape and the transparancy "control room" behind Stone Phillips would be evident at HD resolutions), and that John Walsh has a talk show (who knew?).

Post-tour, we walked (ok, so by this time I hobbled) to Grand Central station with its expansively open yet mall-like atmosphere, took a subway back to Ian's hood, and got a bite of Chinese for a late lunch.  Following a white chocolate and banana gelato dessert, Carrie and I caught a taxi to LaGuardia and made the journey back to the quiet midwest, bringing the NYC trip to an end.

It was a great trip - a surprising trip as I had no idea that I'd feel so comfortable in the City.  Perhaps someday...  But in the meantime, with Ian, Lena and Jay now living there, I have plenty of reasons to go visit, and there is no shortage of places to stay.  ;)

Walking through Times Square is something akin to a trip through a giant television.  A giant, crowded television.  With street vendors.  Oh yeah, lots of street vendors.  Including one big black guy dressed as a hat-wearing Superman.  Neon lights and gigantic video screens surround you, there is a clamor of noise and pedestrians, and all along the streets are stores and restaurants selling at premium prices on one side with vendors bargaining on the other.

Following a brief detour through Times Square so I could experience the gaudily eclectic area, Ian and I took the subway down to Battery Park.  There we found a small local pizzaria and got the classic duo:  a slice of sausage (something you might not realize - they slice the sausage lengthwise) and a slice of pepperoni.  I've found that everywhere I travel, I do enjoy their particular style of pizza.  Chicago thick, California eclectic, or New York wide, it's all tasty and definitely better than the Des Moines fare.

Our grease and mozzerella urges sated, we hopped a Circle Line ferry at Battery Park to tour down the Manhatten shorelinea past Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, and underneath the Brooklyn Bridge.  The tour was reasonably priced (only $10 which is pretty cheap for NYC touristy entertainment) and afforded a great view of the city and Lady Liberty.  The best part of the cruise was the narrator, this older gentleman with a dulcet voice like Barry White reminiscing about New York history and offering tips on visiting certain places that were, according to him, "not the quickest route but certainly the safest."

The aquatic voyage complete, we rode up to Chinatown so I could see the mass of street merchants selling jewelry, knicknacks and ever pirated DVD you can imagine, including movies like Kill Bill and Scary Movie 3, which had just opened the day before.  Those who know my fondness for early-release movies will undoubtedly be surprised to find that I didn't purchase any.  Before you claim a victory for the MPAA, I'll admit that the thought to purchase a few crossed my mind before I realized that the Internet had the same movies available - I mean, if I *wanted* to get some "outside legal means" movies.  Which I'm not saying I do...

We trekked north through Chinatown to Little Italy than turned west to Soho.  Our destination:  the Jobsian mecca known as the Soho Apple store.  Nestled in a very hipster part of NYC, the Apple store is a construct of glass, wood, clear thick plastic and brushed metal, almost as if assembled from the same materials as their computers, though with less garish colors than the old iMacs.  What I find fascinating about Apple stores - and this is true for both the one I had previously visited in Palo Alto as well as this Soho store and, I presume, all of their locations - there is nothing sold at the stores that one could not buy elsewhere, especially online, and indeed, most of the computers on display are the same configuration and models with prices listed not for the particular computer you're demoing but rather a "starting at" price.  It seems that demoing an Apple is more about the experience and the task, whether viewing pictures, editing a video, whatever, than the particular details of the computer's innards.

By this time my feet were killing me.  Note to self - despite the short-term confort brought about by the liner in Born shoes, bring some sneakers on next trip to NYC.

Following Soho, we returned north for a brief stint at Ian's so that my feet could reform from the gelatinous pools they felt like into proper appendages.  A look online showed that the Met (aka The Metropolitan Museum of Art) was open until 9pm, so we trekked the nine or so blocks over.  I loved The Thomas Crown Affair and really wanted to see one particular painting - the one of man in a bowler hat with an apple covering his face whose name doesn't spring readily to mind.  After searching the whole of the museum, we finally found a childrens' book with the very painting on the cover.  Looking in the appendix, we found that the painting we sought was not actually in the Met at all, but was owned in a private collection.  So The Thomas Crown Affair has lied to me.  Liars!  Carrie points out that the irreality of the painting not being there is a far second to when he folds a painting being stolen in half without damaging it.

Dinner consisted of burgers at Jackson Hole.  Thick and juicy burgers.  Mmm.  And then Lena and Jay met back up with us for some bar hopping around 2nd Avenue.  Good friends, good location, and dark beer:  a fine end to a full day.

Friday was art day.  Ian, having things at work he could not get out of, left Carrie and I to our own volition, so we thought to begin hitting the extensive list of small art galleries she wanted to visit while back in the City.  Again the ritual of buying a New York Times and reading it at a coffee shop, and since I wrote about that particular segment of time interspersed in my entry yesterday, I won't go further into it now as there isn't much else to tell about it. 

Except Misty tells me that it sounds like an offer on my house is forthcoming.  So you should get your offer in now to beat out the others!

After the bakery cafe, we walked east, crossing Park Avenue (ritzy!) and turned south on 5th, walking along the edge of Central Park.  Carrie has a general dislike for nature - even parks due to their grass, trees, squirrels and the like, so we dared not enter at that time.  We eventually reached a building directly across from Trump Tower containing the DC Moore gallery featuring the works of Mary Frank.  While I did enjoy Frank's use of both shadowed imagery and geometric structures in several of her paintings, I really preferred her sculptures, especially a "landscape" with figures walking across it cut from the base land, the space they were cut from forming a sort of primal shadow.

We visited three other gallaries before calling it quits, though I cannot recall the names of the featured artists, other than to say one was selling in the hundred of thousands of dollars price range.

On the way back to Casa Del Ian, we stopped by Dylan's Candy Bar, a huge candy store that I had just read about in Fast Company this week.  Known for it's use of exuberant style and classic candy memorabilia, Dylan's was packed with New Yorkers on a bender for some sugar.  I bought some sour balls for the low low cost of $8.50 per pound and then we finished the trek back to Ian's apartment so that we could give our feet a break.

I am fortunate to have not one but three friends living in NYC - in addition to Ian, Lena and Jay, also former Des Moines residents, moved to the City over the summer.  Jay is a Resident at Beth Israel Hospital and Lena, a native Ukrainian, teaches english as a second language.  The five of us, along with Jay's dad who was also in town for his work, went to dinner at a good Mexican restaurant in the East Village.  Good times were had, filled with tortilla chips and habanero-enhanced salsa.

Carrie was tired and Ian had work so they split off afterwards to head back.  After his father went back to his hotel, Lena, Jay and I went to a bar where Jay and I had some Octoberfest while a very tired Lena had dessert and debated pros-and-cons of American living with me.

I took a cab back afterwards and learned that cabbies don't like to break twenties for an $8 fare.  I don't get to see Lena and Jay very often, so it's always a great time seeing them when I do.

Odds are that if you are reading this website, you know me well enough to know about the weekly ritual of watching Survivor with the family.  Since Survivor runs two seasons a year of 13-14 weeks each, that leaves several weeks in between without.  Last winter, NBC aired another reality TV show, another creation of Mark Burnett, the man behind Survivor.  This was "The Restaurant" and focused on Rocco DiSpirito, a semi-famous New York chef, and his opening a new restaurant.  For eight weeks, and covering a period of time of maybe the first two weeks in business, The Restaurant took us between the tables and behind the kitchen doors, showing the drama that happens when a bunch of hopeful actor/model types act it up for the camera in an attempt to stand out on national television - while serving food at an actual restaurant with actual guests. 

And as anyone who watched the show is aware of, they serve Coors Light on tap and take American Express.  Coors Light and American Express:  official sponsors of NBC's "The Restaurant."

While the show itself got pretty tiresome by the end of its eight-week winter replacement run, Carrie and I still wanted to eat at Rocco's while in New York because of its minor celebrity and our corniness factor.  Ian, though having a general disdain for reality TV, walked to Roccos from his work (it's only 7 ot 8 blocks away) and made us reservations, coming along for the ride and agreeing to not be too agitated towards our "star"-struck nature.

So there we were at Rocco's (now called Rocco's on 22nd due to a lawsuit brought by another restaurant in the City named Rocco's).  The first thing we noticed was that the hostess at the door was the same one on the show!  And look! - the bartender is the guy who used to be in the kitchen and had a storyline involving his problems cooking on the grill and another brief one with a restaurant romance.  And that waiter - he was on the show too.  But not ours, bummer.  And hey, there's Mama DiSpirito talking to that table.  Hey Mama! 

I ordered the Chicken Parmigiana and we shared some appetizers of Mama's Meatballs - a famous mainstay of the show and very tasty in their own right - and some calamari.  The meal was delicious, though a bit pricey, and viewers of the show might be interested to know that the food arrived warm - almost too warm, which beats the opposite - and that the cardboard appetizer boats were nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with wire baskets lined with some italian-language newspaper.

While we didn't get to talk to Mama or see Rocco anywhere, it was still a fun experience.  Ian and I ended the evening there playing a game of foosball while we waited for Carrie.  I then took some photos outside, and as we walked off Carrie pointed out that Laurent, the generally-disliked manager from the show, was sitting at the table talking to two others.  Now to see if he and the others are still there when they start filming season 2.

As you approach lower Manhatten, there is an area that looks oddly familiar, with several grey, glass and comparitively stunted looking towers rising up relatively far from other buildings.  Like some modern architectural version of ancient rock formations, these buildings stand out of place in this City of compacted usage.

But then you realize that they are out of place, in a sense.  What's missing next to them is what were once the two tallest structures on the planet.

I approached the World Trade Center site with mixed apprehension.  The events of 9/11/2001 bring about such an upheaval of emotions - the tragedy of the day - and the further tragedy of how the events of the day were used to start forming our country into something it should never be.  Is a place where so many died a terrible death a tourist attraction?  Should it be memorialized in that way?  Or is visiting it more towards honoring those who have fallen and remembering what was, though undeniably tragic, a piece of our shared national history?  Is visiting Ground Zero much different than visiting Normandy or Gettysburg in that respect?

The tone at the site was that of quiet contemplation.  The whole of the area is blocked off by large metal fencing as they begin construction on the new site, with one large scarred building on the south end under repair, a cross made out of original girders, and a large concrete pit - the sublevels of the site.  Along the metal fence are pieces of historical information about the site along with a list of those who died on "IX XI".  Indeed, if you did not know what you were looking for and were not familiar with the area, it might just look at first glance like yet another construction area.  One lady walking by asked her friend, "I wonder what this is about?" before realizing.

In front of the cross of girders is a piece of fence where someone wrote "Love never dies."  In a place where so much hatred could be evoked and in whose name further pain has been inflicted in this world, I found it fitting.

I've always liked the saying that cliches are cliches only because they are that which has  resonated in the public consciousness.  So I say with all fondness that though it may be a  cliche, I Heart NY (though I must beg my faithful few to forgive the use of the word "heart" in lieu of taking the time to upload and use a picture of a little heart - it's just not worth the time as I race the clock of my laptop battery dying).  As I write this, I am sitting at a small table on the corner of E70th and Lexington just outside a bakery slightly larger than the table at which I write.  Having had a brunch consisting of an apple walnut muffin and a skim mocha, I have found an open wireless network gaining me open - if somewhat inconsistant - Internet access.

It's lunch hour in the City, and all sorts of pedestians walk by, giving some insight into the diversity of the populace.  Actually, scratch that, I'm genuinely surprised by the people here as the City in general is not terribly distinct from what I've found in other megalopolis cities (to borrow a term from SimCity) except for the fact that it just goes on and on and on.  And the accents.

It strikes me as how down to earth NYC feels.  What surprises me most of all is how the City resonates with me in a way I never expected.  Walking the streets, riding the subway, writing this entry and watching these two guys helping their friend parallel his Jaguar into a tight parking space, the City just fits with me in an unexpected way.  It actually feels very similar to how San Francisco felt for me - perhaps I am just a fan of coastal mega-cities.

To give a recap of the trip thus far:  Carrie and I were running late, so we got the the KC airport about 20 mins prior to our flight.  We were rushed to the front of the security line where, like always, I got pulled over for the security check.  Our lateness lost our seat assignments, so Carrie was now next to the Business Traveler From Hell.  The BTFH, an early veteran of the Big and Tall industry from his lengthy and loud cell conversations, managed to spend the flight playing solitaire left handed, which is relevant because Carrie was to his left so he managed to keep elbowing into her space.  But you must understand that BTFH didn't care, as he was born with that unique devil-may-care mentality that may be his secret to success in the Big and Tall sector - the same mentality that allows him to speak loudly and clearly into his cell while sitting on the plane because, hey, we all want to hear what he has to say, literally up until the moment he is told to put the phone away.  And upon landing, pow, it's out again and his vocal volume is back up.

Ok, so it's obvious that I did not like the BTFH.

We got into LaGuardia around 10:20 at night.  Since 2 of my last 3 flights were to Mexico, I half expected to go through customs, which is an absurd notion but was there all the same.  Ian was waiting for us by the baggage claim, and after a short wait for our bags we were in a taxi and off to his apartment.

Ian lives in the Upper East side at 79th St and 3rd Ave.  His apartment, which he shares with two girls we met briefly, Freda and Lonnie, either of whose names I may have just misspelled, was fairly large for a Manhatten flat costing less than a few thousand a month with multiple rooms.  And Freda had recently purchased a sofa hide-a-bed, which while not the lap of luxury certainly beat resting in a sleeping bag on the wood floor.

How funny, this group of older gentlemen, the same who helped one of their group park their Jag, are now sitting next to me discussing their morning jog, using terms like "phiffy", and eating pound cake.  It reminds me of the images I conjur when John Mandelbaum speaks of going places with his poker buddies.

Anyway, Carrie, who used to live in NY for a short time, wanted to continue her old ritual of buying a Times and drinking a coffee in the morning (which was 11:00am by the time we got out and about).  I refused to go to a Starbucks as there were surely several local coffeeshops in the City.  We ended up at Neil's Coffee Shop, which was really more of a diner.  I got a Diet Coke and a blueberry muffin, which they cut in half and toasted in a move that was unexpected but very good.  So take it from Jason and "Neil" - toast your muffins!

The Group of Old Coffee Drinkers has left.  As three of them were getting into the Jag, one of them called out to the one remaining behind, "Dewey, don't you invite that lady to dinner."  "You guys are clowns."  Then this lady sitting next to me calls back, "What are you doing ordering him around, he's a grown man."  "Crazy these guys," said Dewey to her.  "They've got nobody to talk to.  They're all bachelors these guys."  Then another approached, asking where they went, with a look somewhere between disappointment and relief for having missed his friends.

It's colder than I expected - probably around 50 degrees with a steady breeze making it cooler yet.  And the City is not nearly as polluted as I was expecting either.  Ian worked on Thursday so once we got out of the apartment it was a one-way affair until he got off early mid-day.  And I managed to forget my coat (though not my camera).  So yesterday was a brisk one for me.

After Neils, we met Ian at his job - World Monument Fund, where he is either/both a Program Assistant/Administrative Assistant.  They have a very nice office not far from the Empire State Building, with cubicle walls made out of a cherry-like wood and frosted glass - very contemporary and great style.

Ian suggested a quickie of a detour to the Museum of Sex a few blocks from his office, though he recommended only visiting the gift shop for it cost $13.50 to go into the museum itself.  I had no idea that they made Betty Page action figures ("Jungle Betty" and "Photo Shoot Betty" but there they were, in the, ahem, flesh as it were.  Carrie purchased some magnets and buttons for gifts and then We opted for lunch.

Some time back Carrie was watching the Food Network and saw a bit on this place called "Grilled Cheese NYC" which served, unsurprisingly, grilled cheese sandwiches.  So we walked and walked and walked and walked and some time later arrived in the East Village after a minor detour.  It's a small quaint restaurant with seating in the small dozens but a great brown brick interior.  There I had a provolone and swiss grilled cheese with sage pesto, a tasty combination on 7-grain bread and complimented with what tasted like fresh tomato soup.

Side Note:  Today is my mother's birthday.  I must remember to call her after I finish writing this.

Ok, my battery is about dead.  More later including our trip to the World Trade Center site, Rocco's on 22nd, and todays events.

Tomorrow I am off to "The Apple", "The City So Nice They Named It Twice", that's right - New York City.  Carrie and I are going to visit Ian along with Lena and Jay (all three of whom are fairly recent residents of the City).  Eating at Rocco's (of "The Restaurant" fame), hope to see a show and go to Ellis Island.  I've mixed feelings about visiting Ground Zero, as I don't think it should be a tourist destination, yet at the same time it IS a piece of our national history.  We'll see.  And Carrie wants to go to all sorts of art museums, which is fine by me as I've been looking to swipe a Monet (a la The Thomas Crown Affair).

I haven't decided yet if I'll do a travelogue like I did for Cozumel.  We'll see how it goes!

After nearly four years of living on South N St in my brick ranch, I have decided to put it up for sale.  It's gained in equity fairly well over the past four years, so I want to cash in on that gain and use the current low interest rates to move into something newer that needs less maintenance. 

I am NOT a handy person, so all the grouting, painting, and the like that I (along with help from my mother, sister and brother-in-law) have been doing over the past week in prep for it's listing has really confirmed the new-house-less-maintenance concept.

More news coming soon.  Check out my listing here if you want to buy a nice brick ranch in Indianola!  ;)

At dinner tonight, Chrissy and I got into the subject of the Recall and how disgusted it makes us.  And sure enough, they went and did it.  The Terminator is now Governator (and damn the use of a cliched nickname for a cliched candidate!)

I mean, at least as far as Republicans go he's pretty liberal, but still.  The problems the recall was cited over - namely the financial crisis and the power issues - were happening last year.  And they re-elected Governor Davis then - I remember, I was there that week!  But we now live in an era where if you don't like how an election turned out, a relatively small number of people can work to get it overturned.

I know I know..."it was a fair election" I'm sure will be heard, along with those citing "the people have spoken, and Gray Davis lost."  Except he didn't lose.  He didn't win either.  He wasn't on the ballot.

In a recall election like this farce held tonight, the sitting Governor doesn't get an entry on the ballot.  Instead the vote is two parts - 1) Should the election be recalled and 2) Vote for the person to replace.  And because of this, the sitting governor requires a majority of votes to stay in office, yet the successor can gain office with a plurality.

And beyond that, don't recalls make voting rather meaningless in states where they are allowed?  Why bother putting any thought into who makes the best candidate when odds are a small number of people in the opposition will force another election within a year?  Do you really think it will stop with this one?

I fear Pandora's Box has been opened in California.  A recall of the Governator is already being tossed around (perhaps a joint ticket of Edward Furlong and Nick Stahl can run against him).  And after that another...and another...and another.  Until eventually, inevitably, the law is changed and they are no longer allowed.