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personal

Getting the annual physical

42nd Street and Fifth Avenue sign
Her: I found a coat I like!
Me: (laughing) Imagine, by this time next year, you’ll have both a new coat and a new husband.
Her: Yes. (pause) But I’ll have a new coat!

Went to the doc’s and got stuck with a lotta needles; funny thing was that another nurse stopped by the house earlier that day to draw some blood. Also got the flu shot too just for kicks. Don’t really have a problem with needles but the pinprick they gave me to run some tests “hurt like the dickens.”

Nurse: No one’s ever said that to me.
Me: (rubbing finger) Really? Cause it does…

Afterward, treated myself to a donut. Didn’t have whole wheat so just got a blueberry with a large cuppa coffee.

The doc’s not a fan of my continuing to do what I do, but he says that as long as I don’t actually compete – where someone is trying to do me grevious bodily harm – should be ok. He does want to me to get a buncha x-rays, which he says’s justa precaution.

Man, want another donut now…

Location: yest, opening up and saying “ahhhh” on Amsterdam
Mood: rushed
Music: was counting on you but now I know you’re just a first class fool
YASYCTAI: Time for that annual physical. (120 mins/1.5 pts)
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personal

The Revenge of the Nerds

Man on New York City Subway
Me: Shazam?! He’s like Superman. Like he was an imitation of Superman but now he’s not.
Her: So you expect me to know about some fake Superman?
Me: It’s Shazam!
Her: (shaking head) You’re the only person in America who knows who he is.
Me: He’s Shazam!

Two major things happened this past week:

  1. Slept for 9.5 hours. Straight. Without waking up once (ok, maybe once, but that’s it),
  2. Realized that I cannot change the past.

Both happened on the same night.

Years ago, I secretly decided to compete in mixed-martial arts. Wasn’t planning on telling anyone, was just planning on doing it. But a serious injury derailed that. So spent the next ten years recuperating and being pretty bitter about the whole thing. During that time, people who were my equals, like Bryson, became my betters.

John McCain called the sport human cock-fighting. But he’s wrong. To paraphrase my wrestling coach, it’s not about violence for violence’s sake. It’s strategy, skill, and reasoning overcoming violence. It’s a very nerd-oriented spot.

Am too old to compete professionally. But heard that Al Bundy started rolling in his 40s and’s now a blackbelt; the instructor of the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world only started when he was 29. Rolling for rolling’s sake.

Seeing the doc tomorrow for the ok, and then am gonna see if I can at least train (kinda) hard again. Feel my teeth again.

———-

Met up with Tess/Clara and my friend Tony for a cup of coffee and a plate of cheese in the meatpacking district. We all keep changing but it’s nice to have people that pop in and out of our venn diagrams as we do it.

As an aside, told Tess that onea my favourite books is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, although it’s a girl’s book. She thought it was odd that I’d identify one book as a girl’s book. Never thought it about it much but I do think that some books are written with girls in mind, some with boys, some for businessmen, etc.

More interesting to me is how people see and hear things in the world. We all have our map of the world.

Location: still hopefully Croxley later
Mood: ambitious
Music: All is calm, all is bright
YASYCTAI: Push-up time. 50? (10 mins/1 pt)
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personal

Aerelon: No one that was born poor wants to stay poor

Mona Lisa on a NYC Building

1983
Me: Why do I have to know what a salad fork looks like?
Him: (exasperated) Because, one day you’ll sit down with people that have a fork for salads and you’ll need to know which one to use. Now’s what’s that?
Me: Soup spoon.
Him: (beaming) Yes, soup spoon. That’s right. Good.

Thanks for taking the time to write a comment or email. Found it all really interesting the very different views people had. It’s funny but minorities & native-New Yorkers saw one thing (the second exchange) while non-minorities & non-New Yorkers pretty uniformly saw another (the first exchange).

As I wrote, that was the entire conversation; she never even bothered to respond. And rather than deal with any of the points I made, she sniffed, “Ugh, Logan, ugh! Privileged sentiments bore me.”

Like Nietzxche said, “Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than lies.” She’s so smugly certain she’s right, she has no need to respond to new information.

Switching gears, you can always tells someone that used to be fat. They lumber. They walk as if they still carry the weight.

When I did lose the weight, onea of first things I did was ask my mom to buy me a nice sweater. She brought me to Alexander’s and I picked out a grey sweater from a bin. Got it big just in case I got fat again.

Wore that sweater proudly cause I got it at a department store. At the time, we didn’t usually get our clothes from a department store. When I told Grace in school about it, she laughed and said that only poor people shopped at Alexander’s and that I probably got it from the bargain bin. So I put the sweater away and only wore it at home.

It took me years to unlearn how to walk like fat person. Just like it took me years so that people didn’t immediately say, “You sound like you’re from Queens.” And years to know that what other people think of me is nonea my business.

Still, gotta admit that “privileged sentiments” made me pause. But not for reasons y’might think.

That I don’t sound like someone born to penniless immigrant parents outside an industrial park in Queens, New York, I take as a particular compliment. No one that was born poor idealizes it, only rich folk that have no clue.

Take it as a testimony to those parents who made sure, even though we grew up with halfa nuthin, we still got a proper upbringing – jia1jiao4. They taught me manners, how to love reading, and how to figure out which one was the salad fork.

“Privileged sentiments” – gotta tell my mom. She’ll take that as a particular compliment too.

And now, geekiness:

Location: hopefully Croxley later
Mood: lethargic
Music: You got the talking down, just not the listening
YASYCTAI: Seriously, stop idealizing things you know nuthin about. NYC in 1993 is hardly NYC when it was gritty. Try five years earlier on for size. (2 mins/1 pt)
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personal

Privileged nights in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba and Le Parker Meridien, NYC

Lobby of Le Parker Meridien, NYC

So, Le Parker Meridien was pretty nice. They were giving away two tix to Paris and called out the name of the firm first – my firm. Told my boss that I hoped it was me and then he won.

Thought that was pretty funny. I ended up winning a candle holder. It’s better than spending a buck to win a buck, I suppose.

The next night, had dinner with the lawyer that represented the first Guantanamo Bay defendant. Was a pretty eye opening dinner. Not at liberty to give away much but the facts are that the government had five years to prep against this lawyer with really only two people helping him. The government brought up 260 charges and only one stuck.

Makes one wonder how strong the government case was to begin with.

———-

Below is an actual conversation, verbatim, on my previous post with a female friend – not HG.

If you’ve read me for a while, I’d like to know your thoughts on the conversation? Note, it was a public conversation so she expressly wanted this read. Specifically, how do I come across to you and how does she come across to you?

I’ll give you my thoughts next time.

Her: I’m one of those people who miss the old NYC. I moved here in ’93 and there was a real sense that anyone could move here and create whatever life they wanted. No way does that still exist. I think when people say NYC isn’t what it used to be, what they are trying to get at is the diversity back then meant NYC was open to anyone. It’s not about grit being cool. It’s about a city that had a place for everyone, regardless of class. That’s just not true anymore.
Me: Heya! I think that, in that regard, NYC’s an even better place now that it was back then. We have a mayor that’s expressly pro art, with major art install oftions all over the city. Moreover, its safer and more tolerant here than ever. We still have places for everyone: artists, businessmen and – surprising even to me – families. I would never have considered raising a family in the UWS or Battery Park before and now it’s an option.
Her: Ugh, Logan, ugh! Privileged sentiments bore me.
Me: (I’m) perplexed. Are you saying I’m the privileged one?

That is the entire conversation.

Location: In my warm room
Mood: Still kinda irritated
Music: Who cares if you disagree? You are not me
YASYCTAI: Tell me what you think of that. (2 mins/0.5 pts)
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personal

NYC isn’t what it used to be. Thankfully.

Times Square, NYC on a summer night

Her: You know, when you go out, you don’t need to eat everything they give you.
Me: (staring blankly)
Her: (sighing) Nevermind…

It’s holiday party time. Got client events at fancy hotels, steakhouses, ballrooms, and hidden bars on tap this time around. This week, heading to Le Parker Meridien.

Not sure if it beats all-you-can-eat wings and pitcher beer but I’ll find out. Should probably hit the gym. Later.

———-

People who aren’t from here often comment about how they miss the “grit” and “coolness” of NYC in the 80s and 90s.

Cannot tell you how much that annoys me.

For anyone that grew up here during that time, no one misses it. It’s one thing if you come to city as if you’re a tourist at the zoo and get to go home to a nice colonial in the suburbs. It’s another if you have to walk by hookers and over bums to get home off Times Square.

People talk about NYC my home when it was a hell-hole back in the 70s-90s as if it was a movie and y’can just turn it off when you’re done. Lemme tell you that being a fat, awkward, minority nerd during that time was unpleasant.

Very unpleasant.

If you wanna see an idealized NYC where you’re safe walking down the street but can still oogle the seediness without smelling the urine or taking knee to the gut off 14th street, rent a film.

You don’t see me driving to your lawn in Connecticut saying, “This is so sterile and safe – but bears and wolves, now that’d be cool. Oooh, imagine if there was one chasing someone right now! Not us, of course. Or anyone we love. Someone else. Maybe a fat Chinese guy with glasses reading Sherlock Holmes.”

Location: Looking out a rainy window
Mood: irritated
Music: Good times never seem so good – so good, so good, so good
YASYCTAI: Stop idealizing things and be grateful for what you got. (2 mins/1 pt)
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personal

In my life

Condiments at a diner

Had my second Thanksgiving dinner with my family; Heartgirl came along. After a ridiculous amount of food, we all settled down to play cards and Taboo. It felt like family.

That Saturday, saw my old college buddies for dinner; it was a potluck “Friendsgiving.” Brought some sweet potatoes that I made as well as a pie that I bought. Afterward, had some of his fine bourbon, which I enjoyed, but not as much as my usual rum. Per my usual clumsiness, managed to spill wax all over some furniture. That too felt like family.

The guy I’ve known the longest – since we were about 16 (21 years) – just had a kid. It’s weird seeing your friends as parents.

After that, went and saw Hazel, who happens to be his sister, and my buddy Paul with my brother and his new girl for karaoke. Didn’t do much singing but I did have some more drinks there although the drinks were so watery that it was like drinking nuthin.

Sunday, we all just got up and had diner food with my bro and the girls before he headed home to LA.

My lens wasn’t snapped in correctly for most of the stuff so no good pictures to show you of most of it. Figured that out when I took the above pic at the diner.

S’ok, there’s always next year. Hope you had a similar friend/family-filled holiday.

Man, gotta hit the gym.

Location: Brooklyn within the hour
Mood: fat
Music: places have their moments with lovers and friends, I still can recall
YASYCTAI: Make a stand, shake up the views of the common man. (10 mins/1 pt)
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personal

Thanksgiving 2010

79th Street and Broadway, NYC

Me: 37. But in my head, I’m still 18.
Him: (laughing) We all are, Logan, we all are.

Hurt my neck wrestling the other day so I’ve been walking around with this ice pack around it. Man, after 35, nuthin heals the right way any more. Feel my age all of time now.

HG and I’ve been talking about my moving someday outta my pad. Moved lots in the last few years but it’s always been up or down in the same building. Been here for going on 12 years. A dozen years. Doesn’t seem possible and yet it is.

Once again, got nuthin better to say about the holiday than I said two years ago for Thanksgiving 2008.

Off to work and then to stuff my face like a fatty, fat, fat.

Happy Turkey Day, everyone!

Location: UES
Mood: in pain
Music: High time we made a stand & shook up the views of the common man
YASYCTAI: Make a stand, shake up the views of the common man. (10 mins/1 pt)
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business personal

My three business credos

Birds on a wire; pigeons on a streetlight, NYC

Think I’m gonna stop writing for Technorati. No major single reason but a few little ones:

  1. Been crazy busy with work and those articles take me longer than anticipated to write – plus they make change requests that eat up more time
  2. Kinda feel like there’s no real support for articles since they run them all equally without any promotion
  3. There’s no means of auto-publishing. This I understand cause they want some editorial control but it has ramifications for me.

My three business credos, which’ve enabled me to not have a “real job” for decades yet still live comfortably, are:

  1. Underpromise, overdeliver.
  2. Save 10% of everything you ever make.
  3. Be a man of your word

It’s the last one that causes my friction with Technorati. Said to readers that we’d publish weekly on Fridays and yet, no; the editors manually put up each entry so articles’re published when an editor gets around to it.  They completely missed publishing last week.

It’s not as if I think people’re waiting with bated breath for my next installment; it’s that I said I do it.

When I say I’ll do something, it gets done. Even the people that can’t stand me know that if I give my word, it’s done.

Figure that my job’s to write and their job’s to publish. Y’can’t keep bugging someone to do what they’re supposta. Ergo, no more column.

It’s a shame – liked writing it and they weren’t bad fellas, just maybe understaffed.

Maybe I’ll move it somewhere else – any ideas?

———-

Him: How do we get to the museum?
Me: Just walk down Broadway and make a left at 79th Street. Keep walking straight until you see a large building that looks like a museum.

HG’s brother stayed over the other night and enjoyed hanging out in the city enough to stay for another dinner. We ended up doing Vietnamese the first night and pizza the next.

It’s nice when your significant other’s siblings and relatives aren’t jerks. Hoping they think that it’s nice that their sibling’s fiancee’s not a jerk too. It’s rough when that’s not the case.

Went to wrestle the other day and now my neck’s all jacked up; can barely move right now.

Man, the holidays’re gonna leave me a porker.

Location: at my desk, immobile
Mood: in pain
Music: I guess action speaks louder than words
YASYCTAI: Go to the doctor for a physical. (60 mins/1 pt)
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dating personal

It’s the same old thing as yesterday

Couple fighting in Lincoln Center, NYC

Was taking a quick break from work this week and someone told me they saw an ex being interviewed on TV so I watched the vid. She looked good and it sounds like her job’s going well. I’m glad. Hard to believe it was over four years ago.

It’s funny, that guy that loved her so I don’t even know any more.

Douglas Adams once said, I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.

We all think we’re the king of pain at one point or another. The sane people realize that we have no idea what we’re talking about.

Watched it for another minute before I flicked it off and went back to work.

———-

HG’s brother’s staying over as the first member of her family in our pad. This is cool cause, first of all, he’s a nice fella. Second of all, it forces me to get things done to free up my evening; dunno the last time I had a free evening.

Finally, we get to go out for sushi. Win/win/(win) for all concerned.

If you’re looking for me, look for the grown man in the corner stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk with raw fish and seaweed.

Location: in fronta my desk, under a deadline
Mood: rushed
Music: I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
YASYCTAI: Get those projects done! (Four days/1 pt)
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dating personal

Need the darkness, someone please cut the lights

Clock in midtown, NYC

Got a number of nice comments from friends that read my last Technorati entry as to Why Wednesday is the Best Night for a First Date. Tell me what you think.

———-

Was running around the city again last week when a client called me and asked me to come over. His dad passed away and he wanted my help addressing a few things. Told him I would, so that kills any free time mighta had this month and maybe next.

It’s a terrible thing to think but if the father had to pass, 2010 is the best year for a rich person to do so cause there’s no estate tax.

Course, that’s on a purely pragmatic basis; on a personal level it’s always too early for a loved one to go, yeah?

Been thinking a lot about life and death these days. Maybe it’s the weather.

Saw my aunt and cousin for lunch Saturday – also work related. My aunt told me that when she first came here at 21, she stayed, along with three other people, in my parent’s two-bedroom. That made seven people in a one-bedroom. She said she never forgot my family’s kindness. Felt pretty good about that.

Told them about my family’s name, Luo. It turns out that China just forced another of my “relatives” to have a abortion at eight months. Reason #2,234,645,549 why I hate China.

As for me, came home and filled out the life insurance paperwork that’s been sitting on my desk for a month. Kept putting it off. I’m not that old and I don’t need 50 year old male life insurance, but I figure better safe than sorry and to have a policy of some sort. Afterward, called my pop.

Me: …so then she said that there were seven of us in the apartment.
Him: (laughing) Were there? I don’t remember. Oh, we were poor back then.
Me: Yeah. It was a long time ago.

Wish I had more time to write.

Then again, when I had time to write, wished I had more scratch.

They heard me singing and they told me to stop
Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock
These days my life, I feel it has no purpose
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface

Location: my newly cleaned room
Mood: run down
Music: I need the darkness, someone please cut the lights
YASYCTAI: Prepare lunch. (10 mins/1 pt)
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