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Where’s my flying car?

A Skybridge to Nowhere

Him: What is that?
Me: That’s a skybridge. When I was a kid, people thought that – by 2025 – we’d all have flying cars so they would build these bridges between buildings so people could get around easier if we were all flying around. There are still a few left in NYC.

The kid noticed the below skybridge one late night when we were out with the Firecracker just outside Penn Station.

Now we’re on a quest to visit some of them if we can.

From ScoutingNY

Learned how to speed read around middle school.

I’d already read pretty quickly but I read something once that said that the simplest way to speed read is to read with your finger, but for a peculiar reason.

Take the sentence:

The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.

Most people don’t read it like that, they read it like this:

The quick quick brown fox fox jumped jumped over the the lazy dog dog.

They go back at least one word, sometimes two.

You probably do it too. Try it.

Just read a sentence with your finger and force your finger to constantly move forward.

At first, it’s a bit disconcerting but you get used to it after a few weeks.

That alone should increase your reading speed, significantly.

Nowadays, I probably read normally around 650 words a minute with full comprehension and as much as 750 if I really focus.

Now, I’m not telling you this to brag but to say that I was sitting bed one day watching this clip of Bill Barr commenting on meeting flat earthers.

It allowed me to finally answer the question: Where’s my flying car?

By Mr.choppers – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=152037030

See, I assumed that, by now, I’d be flying around in my car. Instead, we got this monstrosity.

What happened?

I think that humans take two steps forward and one step back.

Constantly.

Like we got rid of the measles.

Because most people have no memories of just how horrific the measles were.

Then fucking morons like RFK Jr come along and say that measles aren’t a big deal because they have no fucking clue.

Then a lotta people die.

Then we gotta figure out the measles again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

The Arabs were once some of the most brilliant people on the planet, giving us algebra (al-jabr) and the House of Wisdom, among other things.

Then religious zealots took over and burned books and so much knowledge was lost.

Although, to be fair, this happened everywhere: China, England, Nazi Germany, even right here in the good ole US of A.

The US even had one just last year.

That’s why people, particularly the willfully ignorant ones, are such a disappointment to me.

There’s no end to stupid people doing stupid things and other stupid people cheering them on.

Him: Why don’t we have any flying cars, papa?
Me: Because there are so many stupid people in the world, kid. For every two steps forward, we make as a society, we take one step backward.
Him: Awww…a flying car would be cool.
Me: It really would be.

As I was writing this entry, this article just came out about almost all Tesla Cybertrucks needing to be recalled.

You cannot make this stuff up.

Location: The sunny upper west side
Mood: disappointed
Music: Boy, I don’t understand (Spotify)
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St. Paddy’s with Indian and Irish-American food

A weekend of food and trains

ABFF: Hey last min but any chance you guys could do dinner this Fri or Sat?

It’s been a busy week or so for the kid and me – well, it was a busy weekend of food, at least.

We started off by heading to ABFF’s for dinner with her kids, my kid, the Firecracker, and some of the ABFF’s friends.

The adults basically just chatted while the kids were up to something.

We’d been on an Indian kick lately, so we all had that.

A few days later, I made some corned beef and cabbage for St. Paddy’s Day.

Then we went to my SIL to swim at her pad again.

The Firecracker’s kid and my kid had a grand time.

With us taking the light rail…

…and PATH afterward, which both boys got a kick outta.

As for me, I liked the rando artwork everywhere in Jersey City and Hoboken.

Me: Did you have a fun time?
Him: Yes! Can we do it all again next week?
Me: (laughing) It’s not really up to me, but I’m sure we’ll find something fun to do, yeah?
Him: Yeah!

Location: home, working on the garden
Mood: proud of the kid – I’ll tell you why later
Music: She took the midnight train going anywhere (Spotify)
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On teaching well

Must be a natural

Him: Whoa, you’re really good at that [move].
Me: It only took me 22 years. Must be a natural.

My elbow injury was the first one that I’ve had in a while.

Since I couldn’t go to the gym, I’ve been catching up on work – Scenic Fights and otherwise, as well as watching a few videos.

This fella named John Danaher – whom I used to run into alla time back in my club days – is probably the most well-respected BJJ coach on the planet.

He’s made a lotta the biggest names in the sports.

Anywho, I came across the below video of him explaining his teaching methods and it really made me think.

My very first coach would regularly completely flip out – I mean screaming in the gym like a madman, making grown men cry in front of everyone, physically assaulting his own students – when you didn’t do the move exactly as he did them or any one of a thousand little offenses to him.

Spent (well) over a decade with him with almost nothing to show for the time – a ton of other people had the same experience.

Recently, however, my skill has been expanding by leaps and bounds, precisely because I just started doing things that felt right to me.

Danaher even mentions that the goal isn’t to make robots that fight just like the coach but express themselves their own way – that’s the “art” side of “marital arts.”

That’s what my old coach never seems to have gotten.

Don’t think he realizes just how many people absolutely despise him for how much of their time he wasted.

While he certainly wasted a ton of my time, I don’t hate him.

Quite the opposite. I feel so much pity for him.

He wanted nothing more than to be a great coach but, instead, he’s just become a lightning rod of ridicule at best and full-on animosity at worst.

He’s had some stellar students, to be sure, but I gotta think that’s more a testament to their own innate skill than anything he did.

What a heartbreakingly sad thing: To be so profoundly bad at the one thing you based your entire life upon.

Location: home, with a bad back and elbow
Mood: bleary-eyed
Music: It’s not right, not okay, say the words that you say (Spotify)
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Got injured…again

The only heart I want

Her: You got injured?! Again?
Me: Yes. But in my defense, I’m getting injured less often…ish.

Was at the gym the other day and this younger fella, whom I’m friendly with, just ripped my arm and almost broke it.

The last time we rolled, I could tell I was frustrating him, so he was intent on winning this round.

That’s the thing; I care a lot less about winning and more about just improving in general, so this was annoying, to say the least.

Afterward, the instructor came by.

Him: Is anything broken?
Me: I’m not sure yet.
Him: (laughs) That’s the perfect answer. Get some ice on it.

So, I did.

It wasn’t broken but it was super sore and swollen.

It also meant that I had to sit around at home for about a week-and-a-half.

Whenever I can’t go to the gym, I actually have to try and eat well since I gain weight pretty much immediately when I can’t work out.

My Scenic Fights producer even commented the other day:

Him: You’ve been gaining a little weight.
Me: Wha?!
Cameraman: (shaking head) Logan? You’re outta your mind.

Anywho, as for eating well, I made a slew of roasted spicy chicken hearts the other day.

Someone convinced me to try some years ago and I got used to making them as quick and easy protein snacks.

Honestly, they taste oddly good since they’re pure protein and meat, but I get that it’s an acquired taste.

The Firecracker, for example, is not a fan.

Me: Hey, do you wanna try some of these roasted chicken hearts I made?
Her: Baby, the only heart I want you to give me is yours.
Me: But these are roasted with lao gan ma.

In any case, soon enough, the below poor food choices will all be mine once again.

As soon as I can move my arm.

Location: planting strawberries with the boys on the windowsill
Mood: ache-y
Music: But I survived I′m still breathin′ (Spotify)
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Absolutely killer drinks

You’re like Cookie Monster

Stopped by the Surgeon’s pad the other day just to get the kids together.

It actually was his birthday that week, so I brought over some dumplings from the joint right across the street from him.

Now, last year, I got him a nice bottle of rum at the Downtown Assocation.

After I got insanely sick in the Bahamas, I told him that I’d – respectfully – probably not drink any more tequila nor mezcal.

Luckily, he’s been experimenting with rum and I’m hoping that I have another convert.

To wit, he mixed us all several different iterations of a Hemmingway Daiquiri.

Me: Oh, we had this on our first date!
Her: Yeah – you told me to eat that dried lime and I almost gagged.
Me: …sorry?

He even made a Japanese Yuzu Hemmingway Daiquiri.

The Surgeon made such absolutely killer drinks that I spent a solid few hours just passed out on the sofa as other guests came and went.

In fact, this was my view most of the night.

It was a really nice night, like always.

And I didn’t feel like death the next day, so win-win!

Me: Oh man, I ate and drank waaaaay too much last night.
Her: You’re like Cookie Monster, except you’re not as selective as he is.
Me: What?
Her: Well, he just thinks of eating cookies all day and you just think of eating all day.
Me: Fair.

Location: earlier today, my old gym, injuring myself with a weight
Mood: grumpy
Music: days turn into night like these when my willpower’s weak (Spotify)
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A party and grossness

So much grossness

The kid got invited to his friend’s birthday party the other day, so we all headed down to Chelsea Piers again.

Like I said before, it’s always nice to be included.

Felt bad this time around because we had the four of us – the kid and me, and the Firecracker and her kid – but the hosts were super kind and told us we were all welcome so off we went.

The kids had a blast…

…and my own kid ate his weight in…stuff.

Now, in the middle of it, some other kid ate some of the fruit with the serving tongs, which he put into his mouth.

As soon as he put the tongs down, I grabbed it and asked one of the helpers to replace it, which he did.

Unfortunately, I might not have caught it in time.

See, later on that night, he got hit HARD with a stomach bug.

Can’t say for sure that it was because of that kid, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter.

In any case, I’ll not post pics but just trust me when I tell you that it was spectacularly gross.

The kid’s friend that lives next door to us and always invites us over for holidays also got ridonk sick.

It was a pretty rough three days for both of them and they both had to miss a day of school – the Firecracker and her kid (luckily) didn’t get sick.

Oh, I should mention that the Firecracker – after 10PM, which is when the kid had his worst bout of grossness – immediately donned some gloves and kneeled into the thick of the grossness to help me clean it up, something she absolutely didn’t have to do but I was deeply grateful that she did.

Me: (in between dry heaving) I’m so sorry about this. Thank you for helping.
Her: (cleaning) Of course. I used to be a schoolteacher. This stuff doesn’t bother me.

Speaking of knees, it’s stuff like that that makes me think she’s just the bees’ knees.

Most of the time.

Me: I think that I’m pretty chill these days because I’m…
Her: …old.
Me: (shaking head) That really wasn’t necessary.

Location: the supermarket for the third time in one day because I’m so forgetful these days
Mood: fat
Music: Now I’m taking sips of your potion (Spotify)
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Memory Lane

Not that there’s anything wrong with that

After the Firecracker and I came back from her surprise shower, we then dashed off to our local dive bar – Malachy’s – and met up with my old roomie, Buckley.

We actually lived in the same dorm waaaaaay back in 1991 (!) and kept in touch after I left.

When he moved into the city, he and I became roomies and, after a few years, he and I bought our apartment together.

I remember that my dad had questions.

Dad: You…and Buckley…are buying an apartment? Together?
Me: Yeah, why?
Him: Well…is there anything else you wanna tell me?
Me: (puzzled) No, why? (thinking) OMG! No, we’re just friends. And poor. We’re poor friends. We can’t afford a place alone, so we need to pool our money together.
Him: Oh…
Me: (quickly) Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We’re just poor.

This is us in 1998, right before we bought the place.

I dunno what we were thinking with those sweaters or my goatee.

In any case, we met up at Malachy’s because that and Big Nick’s – which is where the main picture was taken – were the two greasy spoon dives that we always went to.

It’s weird. He looks like him just…older. And I’m the same.

We were literally kids when we met – like 17. And now his son is not that far off from the age when we first met.

Rain Noe, Logan Lo

And I’ve been chatting with Rain a lot these days.

He’s just dealing with some real estate issues and that’s kinda what I do.

That’s a pic of us back in 1998 downtown. I think at a joint called Stingy Lulu‘s (or Yaffa Cafe).

Big Nick’s is long gone – it closed back in 2013 and I wrote about it. I remember chatting with Alison about it.

Stingy Lulu’s has been gone for decades – as has Yaffa Cafe.

The thing about being 51 in 2025 is that I don’t really have any pictures or videos of some of the most seminal moments of my life.

This was a little bit after he moved out and Alison moved in.

Because, back then, cameras were crappy and usually just film or – in my case – crappy digital.

Did you know that your memories aren’t replayed, they’re reconstructed each and every time you remember them?

That means that every time you remember thing, there’s a (high) chance you’ll alter that memory a bit and those alterations keep piling up until you can’t trust your own memories anymore?

And that’s why I wish I had better pictures/videos to remember my possible pasts with.

Luckily, I have my friends to help me remember those memories.

Me: He was a quant at Long Term Capital, right?
Him: No, he was a programmer – he was on his way to being a quant when it imploded.
Me: Gotcha – I didn’t know that.

Unfortunately, I don’t have Alison here to remember the memories that mattered the very most to me.

Ah, fuck…

This is what my room looked like when it was just me and Buckley – two bachelors in the city.
A dragonfly from this entry in 2008. I have questions about that day but no one to ask.

Location: this morning, looking up therapists for various reasons
Mood: messy
Music: saw my life in a strangers face and it was mine (Spotify)
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Goodnight, Peter

He was my friend and I’ll miss him

Her: What are you writing about?
Me: Peter.
Her: Oh, did you know him well enough to write about him?
Me: Well, his life is his story to tell. I’m just gonna write about my life and his role in it.

Pausing the usual nuthin again.

Almost exactly 17 years ago, I wrote about my buddy Mike, who was a regular in my kali class.

Older fella, I still remember that Mike had a six-pack at 65+.

Mike was the first guy that I knew as a friend that died.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the last.

Mike died before social media so I’ve forgotten what he looks like.

But he was my friend, and I miss him.

Peter Moretti was like Mike in that he would always come to class and be a bit confused and not get certain moves because, like Mike, he was older.

But he never stopped coming and never stopped trying to be better.

This is him just a few days before he died.

His dedication, plus his incredibly easy-going and kind nature, was how I always saw him.

His Facebook feed was/is fulla things like him feeding birds like woodpeckers and ducks.

After knowing Peter a few years, I found that he was a karate instructor and fighter who could do things that I only dreamed about being able to do.

In fact, he just posted a buncha photos of himself as a young man two days before he died.

 I realize now that Mike and Peter are essentially me.

They were both skilled and dangerous fighters that were once in peak physical shape.

But time takes its toll on alla us.

I figure that, in a few years, I’ll be the guy that people have to help with certain moves or things.

And they too will be surprised that I was once anything but an older fella.

In any case, I just saw Peter maybe two weeks ago. I worked with him some.

We weren’t close, at all, but we got along well.

He died in his sleep and left a buncha people that loved him and will miss him.

That’s a good way to go, if you’ve gotta go, I say.

Goodnight, Peter.

You’ve worked hard enough, and you’ve earned your rest.

Her: You don’t want to make his death about you.
Me: I get that, but I also don’t ever feel right telling someone else’s story.
Her: That’s true.
Me: It’s a delicate balance. I suppose the main point is that the people in our lives are part of the fabric of it and Peter was a part of mine. I’ll never see him again and he was someone that I always liked seeing.

Location: last night, the surgeon’s, drinking up a ton of rum
Mood: wistful
Music: You’ll have to learn, just like me and that’s the hardest way (Spotify)
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Surprising her again, but not by me

The Firecracker had a surprise party the other day

Amazingly, the very next day after I wrote the previous entry about my fixing my server hack, it got hacked again in the morning.

Super annoying, but, luckily, most of the site was pretty barebones by then so we were able to patch that part pretty quickly.

Let’s see how long this lasts.

On another topic, entirely, the Firecracker had to go to a “conference” the other day.

It turns out that it was all a sham – but the good kind.

See, her coworkers had to think of a reason to get her to come up for a surprise party thrown by her coworkers to celebrate her engagement to me.

Me: I get that. You *are* pretty lucky to have me.
Her: (rolls eyes)

She was super touched by the gesture and hit me up to swing by.

Her: My coworkers are the best! Come on by, we’ll be here a bit.

While I feel that I’m always crashing her office events, she said it was fine, so I headed up.

Everyone, like always, was super sweet.

They had hors d’oeuvres, champagne, sandwiches, salads, and a ton of desserts…

…including some homemade cupcakes to boot.

They played some games…

…and also handed out prizes.

I won a scrunchie, as did she. 

Considering my quantity of hair, I’ll most likely give her mine.

We ate our fill and then headed home because later on that night, I was supposed to meet up with my old college roomie and buddy, Buckley.

I’ll tell you about that in the next entry.

Her: Five? You ate FIVE sandwiches?
Me: Well, no one else was eating them, so…
Her: What do you have, a hollow leg?
Me: In my defense, I only ate like half the bread.

Location: the basement, cleaning out a ton of brick dust from alla the previous work
Mood: busy and beat
Music: No, you’re not late to the party, don’t worry there’s still time (Spotify)
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A Revolutionary Afternoon

Rasputin was a real wizard

Because the Firecracker and I did so much traveling the past two years, we were chatting about getting into the TSA Precheck Program.

To this end, we both met up downtown at the National Museum of the American Indian, which is – oddly – where we had our interview.

The last time I’d been down there was in this entry, 13 years ago.

What a different life I led back then.

In any case, the interview itself was insanely fast; we were both done in less than three minutes.

It’s alla the paperwork that you gotta do ahead time that’s the real time killer.

Afterward, I told her that I’d buy her a drink downtown.

Me: Have you ever been to Fraunces Tavern?
Her: (thinking) That’s like a Revolutionary War place, yes? I don’t think so?
Me: Sweeeet, ok, let’s go.

It’s a place that George Washington supposedly utilized as a headquarters for war planning.

While we were there, I got a really good mead – for the first time, ever – and she just had some wine.

We chatted with the bartender for a bit before walking around downtown.

There were so many cool shops and restaurants downtown that we had difficulties figuring out where to eat.

Ultimately, she decided she wanted a lobster roll so we found a place downtown that had an excellent one.

She was very excited.

It felt luxurious to be out and about in the middle of the day.

This meant that we had time for some important and deep conversations.

Her: Have you ever considered that maybe Rasputin was a real wizard?
Me: OK, where to begin with that statement…?

Afterward, we walked around a bit more downtown…

…before we called it and went home.

Her: This is one of those things I like best about New York City.
Me: What?
Her: There’s just so much to do and see.
Me: (nodding) Yeah. I’ve been here my whole life and still think there’s so much I’ve not seen here yet.

Location: in front of six tacos, wondering if I should have a seventh
Mood: exhausted
Music: Völlig losgelöst von der Erde (Spotify)
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