Month: June 2014

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personal

A bit of taco from TacoBite

Hanging out in the hood

TacoBite food truck in NYC

The thing about returning from a vacation is that, within a few days, the effects of it are pretty much gone. I’m already back in the thick of work.

We’ve since returned to our healthful eating after our cruise. Not that she ever stopped.

Healthful Meal

Me: Do you think you have enough liquids there?

Still, the weather’s been really nice here in NYC, especially the past few days so we took a walk in the neighborhood to pick up a rug, which we lugged home.

Afterward, the lunch truck TacoBite was in the area so I got a burrito and she got two tacos. Pretty amazing stuff. Wish I had some right now.

Everyone thinks of Times Square or some place downtown as quintessentially Manhattan. For me, my little slice of the Big City is about as close to a small town as one can get in the heart of Manhattan.

Her: It’s nice to be on vacation, but it’s also good to be home.
Me: Yes. Although I miss having someone else find us stuff to eat.

Tacos from TacoBite.com

Location: soon to be in Chinatown
Mood: pensive
Music: I was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad
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Travelogue: A Walk in Bermuda

Pictures from a Bermudan Walk

Old man fishing in Bermuda

Her: Let’s take a walk along the abandoned Railroad Trail.
Me: OK.

We decided that, for some exercise and local flavor, we would walk to some railroad tracks to explore the town.

In hindsight, this was not a good idea considering there was zero cloud cover that day. Also, Bermuda – as a country – does not seem to believe in sidewalks.

Started off well, as we walked along Freeport Drive where we saw all these drawings of ship insignias.

I Googled for more info, but couldn’t find anything additional. Here’s the wife with Italian and Irish insignias.

Pointing at the Italian and Irish

After almost falling off a four-foot tall wall onto the roadway , made our way to the Royal Navy Cemetery.

Royal Navy Cemetery in Bermuda

Past some quiet and deserted spots.

Bermuda waters and park

Her: Look at that sign!
Me: That’ll be us soon.
Her: Speak for yourself.

Sign outside the Lefroy Retirement Home in Bermuda

Me: I’m beat, let’s stop for a bit.

Stone table and bench in Bermuda

We saw a fisherman sitting high on a bridge doing his thing.

Fisherman crouching alone on a bridge, fishing.

Was getting really burned so we stopped by a local clothing shop and picked up a hat for me.

Start of the Bermuda Railway Trail

After what seemed like hours, we finally reached the trail but by then we were beat so were only on it for a half-mile or so before we looked for a bus to head back.

We caught it right as the school children were getting out of class so it was packed.
Map of our walk in Bermuda

A quick 30 minutes later, we were back in our air conditioned room.

Me: Man, I’m brown, bald, and burnt.
Her: But you’re my brown, bald, and burnt guy.

Location: the middle of Manhattan
Mood: busy again
Music: for you. Baby, I’m not moving on
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Travelogue: Bermuda 2014

Took a (very) last minute trip

Pina Colada

Coach: I’m not sure you should be here today with that injury of yours.
Me: I’ll be careful – especially since there are fruity drinks with tiny umbrellas in my near future.

Got injured again two weeks ago and the wife and I decided to take a break from everything.

So we took a last minute trip last week to Bermuda at almost the exact same time as last year.

It was really last minute; called up my friends Bridget and Nadja to hook us up with a cabin and Bridget snagged us a spa cabin.

Me: WIN! Actually, I don’t know what that means.
Nadja: That means you have complimentary access to the thermal suites and I think your cabin is an aft balcony, so the view will be fantastic.

It was.

On a balcony on the NCL Breakaway

Although I do have to say that within the first hour on board, managed to drop a number of things.

Spill on carpet

Me: Sorry about that.
Waiter: (laughing) The ship hasn’t even left yet!

I’ll let the pics speak for the rest of the trip.
Bridge off a Boaz Island

We took a long walk while in Bermuda but I’ll tell you about that later.

Spill on carpet

Rocks at a Bermuda beach

House off a Bermuda beach

Location: certainly not Bermuda
Mood: rested
Music: Part of where I’m going, is knowing where I’m coming from
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Father’s day 2014

Communication and having to white it up

Boulder against cloudy blue sky

Him: (proudly) That’s my son.
Me: Hey, little fella.

Got a random call this weekend from an old college buddy. He was in town for just a bit and wanted to stop by with his new son.

Because I married so late in life, I’m one of the few people in that group of friends that have no kids.

It’s weird, even now, realizing that so many of my friends are parents and on that next stage of their lives. If I ever do become a father, wonder what type of one I’ll be?

Speaking of fathers, it’s Father’s Day. For a number of reasons, I wasn’t able to see him, as much as I would want to.

Sadly, something else that’s different with my friends is that many of the them don’t have the luxury of simply picking up the phone and calling them any more.

I do, though, and try to whenever I can.

Me: Hey dad, just checking to see how you’re doing.
Him: I’m good. Getting fatter.
Me: That makes two of us.

For many reasons, wish my Chinese were better. One, so I could talk to him more; another so that, if I ever did have a kid, would be able to talk to him or her in it.

Him: I feel bad, sometimes. English isn’t my native language. Chinese isn’t yours. It’s like me and my dad. We couldn’t communicate.
Me: Yes, but communication isn’t what you say, it’s what the other person hears. So, I think it’s fine.

The wife speaks another language fluently, so I don’t expect her to pick up a third. Although I do try to teach her some important phrases.

Me: Can you order me a 榨菜肉絲麵?
Her: I’ll never be able to say that, I’ll have to white it up.

Location: yesterday, 11AM, the West Side Highway
Mood: excited
Music: say honestly you won’t give up on me And I shall believe
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What color is the sun?

We don’t see things as they really are

Sun setting over Atlantic Ocean
After the craziness of the past weekend, was hoping to find some time to decompress.

Unfortunately, had a full blown night of insomnia that’s thrown me off kilter for the rest of the week.

In any case, my friend Paolina asked me if what happened over the weekend was a Big City thing or not. Didn’t know how to answer her since I spent my entire life here.

It’s like that thing I told you about years ago where a frog in a well knows nothing of the ocean.

Wonder if the fish in the sea’d be surprised to know that that we’re up here shooting each other to death over parking spaces?

Most of us spend our entire lives unaware that we’re in our own little fishbowl in the universe. Some of us realize the net result’s usually the same.

Me? I read anything I can get my hands on, trying vainly to see the world as it is, rather than what I think it to be.

But every once in a while, someone reminds me that I don’t actually see things as they are, I see things as I am. Who I am. Where I am.

The sun is white.

It’s the atmosphere that makes it seem yellow. But it’s not yellow at all and only a handful of people ever has seen it as it really is.

That bothers me some.

But then I get some sleep, eventually, and forget that I once cared to know.

Drinking at Pier I

Location: in a newish room
Mood: philosophical from lack of sleep
Music: You want me down on earth, but I am up in space
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More danger inviting rescue

This weekend had weapons, beer, and an almost dead body

Riverside Park Bike Path…speaking of danger inviting rescue:

Me: I think I just saw a body.
Her: What, where?
Me: Back there? I swear it was a dead body.

It’s been a pretty busy few days. Last week, had a bunch of meetings and a packed weekend so I earmarked Friday afternoon to play hookey and go on a bike ride with the wife.

We went from our pad on the Upper West Side almost up to the George Washington Bridge but decided to turn back early. On the way back down, swore I saw a leg on the rocks by the Hudson River.

And you can’t un-notice something you’ve noticed.

So we turned back and when we got close, it was a leg. It was very bruised and connected to a very bruised old man. Who had his pants pulled down to his ankles.

We suspect he was either mugged or tried to go to the river to relieve himself while drunk and fell onto the rocks.

Neither the wife nor I brought phones so we flagged down another rider and called the police. While we did this, the “dead” guy began to stir and asked for help. We told him it was on the way.

Kinda.

Actually, after about 20 minutes, I went back out into the city to flag down a cop car. One passed me while an ambulance said he was on break. Not wanting to leave the wife alone for so long, I sped back but by then, the police had arrived and said the guy would be ok.

We went down to a local cafe where we got a beer and discussed what happened.

Her: It’s so lucky you saw that. How did you even see that?
Me: I have no idea.
Her: Remind me to never need help in the park.

Drinking at Pier I
The next day, went around Queens with my buddy Paolo and his (now) wife to help negotiate for a car. Which was exhausting. Afterward, we grabbed some Vietnamese food around my sister’s place.

Spent the night at the rents because Sunday morning, woke up early for a fencing seminar in upstate New York where I spent the day getting stabbed and slashed with an array of weapons.

Me: My knee has a cadaver ACL, I’ve got a bum neck, and my elbow was hyper-extended.
Him: Man, you’re all busted up!

Now it’s Monday morning and I’m looking at my schedule. No critically injured people, no used car dealers, and no seminars scheduled.

At least not now. But it’s early yet.

Wouldn’t mind some more beer and Vietnamese food though.

Drinking at Pier I

Location: yesterday, in Bowdoin Park
Mood: tired
Music: body was warm delicious vinyl to your neck of the woods
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Bowe Bergdahl, Tiananmen Square, and exchanges

Danger invites rescue

Chinese lantern
One of the most eloquent judges ever was a New Yorker named Benjamin Cardozo.

He had a case called Wagner v. International Railway where a fella and his cousin are tossed from a train. The first guy goes to look for his cousin and is injured himself. He then sues the train company, which says, “We didn’t ask you to search for your cousin!”

To which Cardozo said, “Danger invites rescue. The cry of distress is the summons to relief […] The emergency begets the man. The wrongdoer may not have foreseen the coming of a deliverer. He is accountable as if he had.”

Essentially, Cardozo said, “You made the situation happen where a normal guy did the normal thing: tried to help. You can’t create a situation that causes danger and then say, Well, we didn’t ask you to help!”

Danger invites rescue. Because, while human beings – by and large – are animals, there are those that aren’t. There are those that point at burning buildings to laugh and those that run in to help. We are in need of all you dormant warriors for justice, the people need you.

That was very first thought three years ago when I first heard about Bowe Bergdahl. It remains my thought now.

While we’re on a rare political bent I note that today is also the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square protest massacre.

Him: But don’t they have freedom now?
Me: When it happened, the government said, “Holy crap, we’re in trouble – give them everything they ask for, except the one thing we really want.”

Property ownership? Done. Capitalism? Done. Private industry? Done.

Everything but what really mattered to the government, which was power. Political freedom was the one thing that mattered to the government and the one thing that should have mattered to the people.

Whenever you trade X for Y – $499 for a toy called iSomething, freedom for basic rights, one man for five, etc – you’re making a conscious choice of what you really want.

Only afterward do you ever find out if it was really worth it.

It’s the lawyer in me that always wonder what’s really for sale.

Location: in a new laundry room
Mood: injured
Music: you’re taking these pills for to fill up your soul
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Stuff I say during movies and television

More particular with the time I have left

Two beers and my buddy with a wedding ring
After a pretty busy week last week, the weekend was a little quieter.

Met up with my friend Kate at the local bar around the way along with my buddy that got married last week – you can spy his wedding ring in the pic above.

Me: How’s married life?
Him: About the same.

Couldn’t stay long because I was meeting up with my fencing instructor for dinner before we had a class.

The next day, the wife and I took a walk around the hood where we picked up a key holder for the house. Afterward, met up with my friend Jarred for our weekly improv class.

Most of my weekends this month are scheduled with activities, for better or worse.

As I’m getting older, I’m getting more particular with how to spend what days I’ve left from my 26,280 days – which I reckon is about 11,300 days.

My wrassling buddy is my age and we talked about it:

Him: And you’ve gotta figure only 5,000 of them are really good.
Me: If that!

What time I do have to myself, I spend with the wife, which is always time well spent.

Almost always.

Movie: “You have 212 more supplicants to see you.”
Me: (to wife) That’s why we have judges – they act on the king’s behalf because the king couldn’t possib…
Her: I have to write down everything you tell me while watching movies and television and call it, Stuff my husband tells me during movies and television.

Location: Off to meet another friend
Mood: rested
Music: the hell are you waitin for After me, there shall be no more
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