Category: Brooklyn

Went to the 34th annual Atlantic Antic, Brooklyn’s largest street festival, Sunday with P-. This was interspersed with laundry, which happened to be directly in front of the laundremat. The place was mobbed. Won $2 at the NY Lottery stand, which I then proceeded to lose on the next ticket. But I got a MegaMillions fanny pack. Ratner pro and against groups were out in full force; it appeared the Ratner group had the better of it. Food included: Jamaican beef patty, red velvet cupcake next door to the Downtown Atlantic bar, sorrel, ox tail stew and jerk chicken from “The original jerk chicken” stand. All good stuff, and I guess I’m getting back into form after last week’s episode. Being after the primary, the only politicians that were actively working the crowd was the Green Party.Plenty of musical entertainment on 6 bandstages and the NY Transit museum smarted up and had their annual bus show coincide with the fair. Definately out did itself this year.

Interesting article on the luxury condo development in NYC’s Chinatown, which apparently some morons have taken to marketing as “Soho South” (which probably would cover just about everything below Soho). Concerns about gentrification, and just a touch about discrimination and the rising costs of affordable housing in this city.

A sad NYC story – on the passing of a NYC Chinese restaurant owner and how his restaurant moves on.

NY Mets are making us all wait one more day before they finally clinch for the playoffs. If they do it today, it’d be in time for the 20th anniversary of the 1986 team’s clinching.

Such nice weather yesterday and so I checked out the Brooklyn Book Festival – great turnout. Lots of interesting stuff. I missed the panels (just couldn’t get to Boro Hall in time). Saw journalist Pete Hamill in passing in the subway (he was one of the panelists at the event, I believe, so wow…). Then tried to do some walking at the Promenade as exercise, but sooo lazy and tired, so I just read and then did some walking back to the subway.
It’s Little Italy’s San Gennaro Festival this week. Hmm. Wonder if I’ve time this week to hop over there.

Finished reading: Blood of Victory by Alan Furst (World War II clandestine operation); Equivocal Death by Amy Gutman (legal thriller; ok reading good for the subway – kind of makes me not want to work at a Big Firm – but then I never was someone who would).
Enjoy the nice weather…

An article on Ivy League football.  People don’t believe me when I say that the Ivy League started because of football (back in the days when Eisenhower was president of Columbia and Ivy League football was actually high caliber, not to say it isn’t, but no one’s expecting to see Harvard winning a Rose Bowl or the like these days).

My Alma Mater beat the other NYC college football team yesterday.  Let’s hope for a better season than last season!  Hope springs eternal.

Let’s go Mets!

I’m on day 3 of Cipro, which is not a real fun thing. Right now the cure is worst than the diseas that it killed off 2 days ago, E. coli., similar to the other 100 episodes and 1 death so far in the U.S. The antibiotic supresses the appertite — it’s really wierd when you’re tasting food going through your mouth, but you have no idea about how hungry you are or if you are full or not.

P’s B’day was yesterday – couldn’t go out with her dinner party yesterday, or a similar buffet at Todai on Saturday, but will go out tonight.

Some stuff from the NY Times – weird stuff.

An article on Condoleeza Rice’s life as the single secretary of state.  The writer Helene Cooper got on a bit much, I daresay, as she wrote:

There are perils to being unattached in the stodgy world of diplomacy[…]

The single, sophisticated American secretary of state once drew notice for wearing black stiletto knee-high boots with an above-the-knee black skirt while reviewing American troops in Germany, so she is bound to attract gossip. [….]

But it took a two-hour flight to Halifax, Nova Scotia, this week, followed by a 90-minute motorcade north up Highway 102 to Pictou County, for Ms. Rice to find herself linked to someone with similar star appeal: Peter MacKay of Canada, the single, sophisticated foreign minister, routinely named Canada’s sexiest M.P. by The Hill Times in Ottawa, and the closest thing to eye candy on the diplomatic circuit. Tall, athletic, young, blond and recently dumped by his girlfriend, a fellow member of Parliament, Belinda Stronach, who parted with him when she switched parties, Mr. MacKay does not look like your usual foreign minister.

He has a tan and the build of someone who spends his time on the rugby field, not holed up reading G-8 communiqués. Sure, at 40 years old, he is younger than Ms. Rice, who is 51, but that did not stop gossips from engaging in baseless speculating.

Even the protesters who routinely show up wherever Ms. Rice goes got in on the act. “Pete, Condi, Make Love Not War,” read one sign, carried by a grinning demonstrator who had roused himself to take a position early Tuesday morning in front of the Museum of Industry here, where the two spoke to local leaders and the press.

O.K., there needs to be a disclaimer right here. Foreign ministers rarely have a lot of alone time together. There is no evidence whatsoever to suggest that Ms. Rice and Mr. MacKay are linked by anything more than their shared status as singletons. [….]

So, Cooper proceeds to write about how all this gossip entertains those poor bored foreign correspondents covering the diplomat beat.  But, the odd pictures of “Condi” and “Pete” holding hands (probably all very innocent) and ending the article with:

On Tuesday morning, Ms. Rice and Mr. MacKay strolled up to their side-by-side daises to talk to the folks here. “I am just delighted to have Condoleezza Rice, the secretary of state, here in my hometown,” gushed a beaming Mr. MacKay, wearing a pearl gray suit, pink and blue striped tie.

He switched to bad French, even to some American ears, and said something about Longfellow’s poem “Evangeline.” He mentioned Nova Scotia’s rich black history, citing the “black loyalist community, Canada’s oldest community of African heritage.”

Then, he said, “Something else I’ve learned about Secretary Rice is she loves the cool Atlantic breezes here in Nova Scotia, and she left the window open last night.” The audience tittered.

At the end of his speech, he took off his glasses, turned to Ms. Rice and said, “Please come back again.”

Ms. Rice, clad in a yellow jacket, black pencil skirt and black heels, also offered plenty of fodder. She repeatedly called Mr. MacKay “Peter” (he called her “Secretary Rice” or “Miss Rice”), confirmed the sleeping-with-the-window-open bit, and told the assembled local leaders that Mr. MacKay had introduced her to his family, including his father and stepmother, the night before.

Family is important, she said, with a sly smile, because “they remind you of the things you did when you were 5 years old.” Beside her, Mr. MacKay grinned and blushed.

Uh, ok.  This is a strange NY Tiimes article.  Are the reporters that bored?

Plus, the Times is a bit behind the times: everybody in NYC already knows that the Mets are THE team.  All those jerseys of “Wright” and “Beltran” and “Reyes” kind of prove that.  That and the whole thing about all the eyes of women in town fluttering at Mr. Wright (yes, he’s such a cutie! 😉 but I guess that means I’m not better than anyone else…)  – no, what it comes down to is that they’re Amazin’, that’s what.  That photo of Mr. Met – aww.  He seems happy.  The Times caring about Mr. Met?  That’s sweet.  Let’s Go Mets!
An article on tea and tea bags.  Me, the tea addict.  Me happy.

They weren’t kidding about the Dog year not being too good for me. I picked up a really strange stomach bug Sunday night – severe chills, fever, running to the bathroom continuously. However, no sore throat or throwing up. Waiting for the doctor’s appointment at 3 today to figure out what it is.

This night – seeing the Tower of Lights from my Brooklyn cement backyard – quite something. Still something that seeing the pictures of what happened back then and reading the stories of mourning then and now: it’s still heartbreaking; it still makes you want to cry.

FC’s post is most eloquent, and I can’t add more to that.

A link, though: NBC’s Brian Williams’ touching essay on what this anniversary meant to him.

The late Jerry Orbach originated the character that sings the song “Try to Remember” from the musical The Fantasticks, now being revived on Broadway. Try to remember that time before September.

Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh, so mellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a tender and callow fellow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow….

Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow….

A picture I took at the Brooklyn Promenade in 2004.

Friday night – went to see Mets v. Dodgers at Shea.  Umm, no, not a great games (Mets lost).  Mets won Saturday, but lost today, so I believe the magic number to clinch for the playoffs remain at 5.

Watched most of the House season premiere.  Hmm.  House is insane, we know that, right?

Star Trek celebrating its 40th Anniversary.

The Brooklyn Book Festival is on 9/16/06.   How exciting!

And then, there’s tomorrow.  Another somber anniversary.  If I didn’t know it has been, I wouldn’t believe it’s been five years.

Australia’s Steve Irwin laid to rest today in private. What will the institutions that he has built remain? What will Animal Planet do to replace the person who served in the role that Emeril Lagasse performs as the anchor for the Food Network? Ok, he was a little cocky and full of Australian character, but he also was a serious conservationist and ran Australia’s largest zoo. Hopefully his family will be able to carry on the franchise to the third generation. Let’s remember this spirited man.

No, I never met the man and I don’t really watch tennis. I think that the things that we have in common are that we are the same age, and right now we both have backaches (his while being propped up with cortisone shots to the back during his marathon run with Becker on Saturday, mine just from being a slug this weekend sleeping the wrong way on the sofa while the missus was away with her girlfriends in Philadelphia). I do admire him for his evolution from a rebel into a sports great. Sunday was his last game.

I was in the same park at the same time as the final match, but as I did not have a ticket to the U.S. Open (you can see the jumbotron from outside the stadium), I had to avail myself of the other things available at Flushing Meadow Park. Most of my time was spent at the Queens Museum of Art (if you’re fascinated with New York, the Panorama of the City is an incredible feat of architectural modeling – think Google Earth for the 20th Century). Also there is a nice exhibit of the World Fair Expos that were held at that location, as well as serving as the first headquarters of the United Nations.

I did have an Amex card, and apparently there were a number of giveaways they were sponsoring that you could get if you had one. I did snag the Metrocard giveaway; I do want to get the free CBS radio. The free pedicab ride was neat also.

Afterwards, I went to Flushing to do some grocery shopping and check out some stores. Flushing Mall has a number of wedding studio photographers; instead I went to the 99 cent Japanese store. Afterwards, I was starving, so I went to Sentosa, a transplanted Malay/Singaporian restaurant. I had the Roti Canai and Asam Laska; both wonderful and flavorful. Definately worth another visit.