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Rando pictures 1

Clearing out the backlog

That project of mine is just kicking my butt so no real entry except for rando pictures that I’ve been meaning to put up, but I just didn’t have a reason to.

Just as good a reason as any to clear out the backlog, I suppose.

Like, I didn’t know what to do with this picture from the Matchbox 20 concert we went to.

Or this one, which was just outside of the concert venue.

And I cannot tell you how many rando pics of food…

…and drink…

…that I have.

Seriously, so many.

To say nuthin of all the rando videos I have here and there as well.

Seriously, though, I’ll put up a proper post once I’m done with this @!#$%!! project of mine.

Any day now…

Location: my desk, working, with a back brace. Fun times.
Mood: So. Busy.
Music: I took my turn, oh, what a thing to have done (Spotify)
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Drinks at the Hotel Chelsea

Old friends come to visit

Him: Hey Logan! I’m in town for work again. I’m with distillery and distributor partners but if you wanted to join us for a drink, let me know.
Me: Where and when!?

The Firecracker and I have a strange little artifact from when we were younger.

She met one of her oldest friends online via a chatroom while I have a solid amount of friends that I still keep from my Livejournal days – I’ve literally got too many to mention.

That’s the kinda stuff I don’t think is really all that common anymore.

Anywho, one such friend is my buddy Paul N, not to be confused with my old drinking buddy Paul.

The last time I saw him was back in 2018, when I visited my brother and met up with him as well.

When we first “met” online, he was a marketing guy and a wannabe writer whereas I was a lawyer and a wannabe writer.

But since then, he launched the award-winning – seriously award-winning, check out all the awards below – Japanese spirit Nankai Shochu.

So, he’s now the owner of a liquor company with staff and inventory, jetting around the world, hustling to get his premium hooch all over the place.

I’m still just a lawyer and wannabe writer but that’s neither here nor there.

He was in town so the Firecracker and I went down to the Hotel Chelsea – a joint I’ve walked past a million times but never went in – and met up with him and some of his work colleagues.

There was a huge line and waiting list to get into the private sitting area but one of his friends, the lady in orange below, is a bit of celebrity bartender and she managed to float us all in.

Me: Killer! See, this is what you pay for – not having people on top of you.
Firecracker: And quiet, I swear, every bar in the city is a sports bar.

There’s nothing quite like ordering drinks with people that spend their lives thinking about and working with drinks.

I told Paul’s bartender friend to just order me rum drinks she enjoyed, and she did. They were all delish.

Now, his particular brand of shochu is very similar to rum, something I’ve pointed out to him numerous times.

This time, however, he told me that he was launching a rhum agricole, something I’ve never particularly liked.

Him: Just try it. It’s very different from other types of that rum. Our distiller is a mad scientist. (pours me some, surreptitiously)
Me: (trying it) Whoa, that’s the best one I’ve ever had.

That wasn’t a lie.

Normally, you can’t drink rhum agricole neat but this one I could definitely see myself sipping in the future.

Me: On that note, have I ever told you my rum story?
Him: You may have, tell it again and I’ll tell you if I heard it before.
Me: OK, so the story of rum is really the story of us…

It was definitely a fun night…

Him: You know what Korean (Americans) do when they’re drunk?
Me: No…?
Him: They argue about who’s more Korean. So, one night, Jo and Man…

…and, afterward, they went off to another bar.

But the Firecracker and I are on full-time parenting duties as the school year winds down.

So, we made our goodbyes and our way home.

Her: You always have such nice friends.
Me: I know. It’s a wonder why they chose to hang out with a fella like me. (later) It’s always nice when old friends come by for a visit.

Location: in front of my computer, all damn day
Mood: groggy
Music: I don’t want to be the villain all the time (Spotify)
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As fine a legacy

The richest people

I’m 26 in that picture above. Half my current age.

When Alison was here, I used to do most of the cooking. And with the Firecracker, I cook most dinners.

It’s because Alison and The Firecracker both preferred cleaning to cooking.

But there are so many dishes that I wish I coulda made for everyone, but I just don’t have the recipe.

Me: I wish I wrote down some of my dad’s recipes. But I was so fucked up at the time.
Firecracker: You did the best you could with what you had. And just leave it at that.
Me: Thanks for saying that.
Her: Anytime. And it’s true.

My kid let me sleep in – like, seriously, sleep in – for Father’s Day, which I really appreciated.

It gave me time to just stay in bed and think about my dad.

I mention him a lot in this blog, but I wanted to share another story to give you some idea of what he was all about.

When I was a kid, I rarely saw him. He was out the door to job number 1 before I woke up for school, which meant that he was already up, dressed, and ready for the day by 7AM.

And I was usually in bed by 9PM but I didn’t see him because he went to school at night to try to better himself.

This left my mom home to cook and clean for us. We were poor so we almost never ate out or had take out anything.

She cooked 3-4 meals a day, because she also had to cook something for my dad at the crack of dawn.

When my dad retired, decades later, my mom was working. And he told her that she would never have to cook again.

He explained it to me once.

Him: Your mom stayed home to take care of the house so that I could work and make money for us. I told her that, because I have time now, I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning now while she’s working because it’s only fair.

And he did.

For at least the last decade-and-a-half of his life, he cooked every single meal he could for her.

He also wouldn’t let her clean up afterward.

That was the deal.

This was taken in 2002, 23 years ago when my life was so very different.

That’s who my dad was; he was a feminist and a liberal in many ways, without ever saying either word in his lifetime, I don’t think.

He just was madly in love with my mom, I think. And he innately believed in fairness.

He wasn’t without his faults, just like the rest of us, but when it came to his wife and family, he was the kinda guy we all wish we could be.

I miss his terribly, on this Father’s Day and every day.

I hope that what he gave me, I can give the kid so that the kid can give it to his family.

Suppose that’s as fine a legacy as anything.

Location: the couch, with the kid, watching Charlie Brown
Mood: nostalgic
Music: you wouldn’t have to say (Spotify)
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Back to 2010

Being productive

Him: It’s funny that you just saw a nun the other day. I saw one the other day in an argument with someone over something.
Me: No kidding.
Him: Yeah, she kept it clean but was really tearing into the guy.
Me: Sounds like someone needs to get some.

Took on a large portfolio of work the other day.

It was far more complex than I’d anticipated but a deal’s a deal so there wasn’t much for me to do but just try to get it all done.

Part of it meant that I had to spend a day in Brooklyn, so I drove the Firecracker to her new office (they just moved offices), which was a treat for both of us.

Her: It feels so luxurious to be driven to work by a hot guy.
Me: Hey, I’m driving you!

And I did manage to sneak out for a few hours to meet up with the Firecracker and her friend who let us crash at her pad in Vienna.

But I couldn’t stay for long because the deadline for alla this work is rushing towards me faster than I can type.

Then again, it’s nice being productive in a manner unrelated to raising the kid.

It’s like I’m back to 2010 again, before…everything.

Location: up to my eyeballs in bills and paperwork
Mood: busier than a one-armed coat hanger
Music: we should ride by slow (Spotify)
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Tribute

Its name is *not* “Bear”

Him: What is it, papa?
Me: You tell me.
Him: It’s a bear! A little bear.
Me: Actually…


A song I’ve always enjoyed was Tribute by Tenacious D.

If you don’t know the conceit of the song, essentially the lyrics tell a story about the band meeting a demon that demands that the two play the best song in the world—or risk losing their souls.

So, Tenacious D improvises a tune that is so good that – miraculously – the demon’s defeated.

Unfortunately, however, they later forget how it went, leaving only a pale shadow memory of that legendary performance, which they call Tribute as it’s merely a tribute to a much better song.

Now, did you know that the word “bear” isn’t the word for the animal?

The animals we call “bears,” were such a horror to Europeans, they would never say the actual name of the animal, only calling it names like “The Honey Eater,” “The Destroyer,” or – and I love this – “The Brown One,” or…”Bear.”

And guess what they never wrote down?

The actual name of the animal they called, “The Brown One,” out of fear that it would be summoned when it heard its name.

So, when you call something a “bear,” you’re not actually calling it the name that those people who coined the word actually called the animal, you’re calling it the codeword of that name.

It’s a tribute to the actual name of the animal.

My point is that there are so many things that we think we know that aren’t actually what we think they are, like penguins and bananas.

Her: Your son was really nice to my daughter, tell him thanks. You and your wife are doing a great job raising him.
Me: Oh, that…she’s my fiance. My wife died not soon after he was born.
Her: (shocked) Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I…
Me: (interrupting) It’s ok. We don’t need to dwell on it.

I think I’m doing an ok job raising the kid mainly on my own, with help from my family, Alison’s family, and the Firecracker.

But, in the end, how I’m able to raise him is all just a tribute to the life he coulda had if things were different and Alison and my dad were still here.

It’s not the actual life I wanted for him but – if he’s a good, happy, and healthy kid – I think it’ll be good enough.

Well, that’s the hope, anywho.

His life is my tribute to her and my dad.

So, here’s hoping it’s an amazing one.

Location: my kitchen, quickly cooking dinner so I can get back to work
Mood: like college-finals-level busy
Music: You gotta believe it – and I wish you were there! (Spotify)
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The Island of Statens

All over the joint

It’s been about 11 years since I spent any serious time in Staten Island.

The last time I went, it was for Paul’s wedding, I was 41, and I looked like this:

Logan Lo and a buddy on the Staten Island ferry

Think I look roughly the same but that could just be me.

Now, outta the five boroughs that make up New York City, Staten Island’s the weirdest one as it’s cut off from the rest of the city’s subway system.

Instead, you have to take a ferry there, which isn’t terrible – if the weather cooperates.

In any case, the other day, I had to meet up with a client there so, right after I dropped off the kid, I took the train downtown to catch the ferry.

At the base of the ferry is The National Shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, and it was the first time I’d ever seen a nun leave or enter it.

But I didn’t have much time to gawk as I had to make my appointment.

Here’s a time-lapse video of the ferry docking at the Staten Island side.

The meeting lasted hours – as did the work – but he’s a nice fella so it wasn’t terrible.

And it was interesting being there again. When I was in my 20s, I dated a doctor from there for a spell.

Seems like a million lifetimes ago.

In any case, was all over the joint doing work, before I wrapped up and dashed back to the ferry station to be in time to get the kid.

Was completely exhausted.

But the view woke me up.

Honestly, there’s little like the view of Manhattan from the water.

Although Govenors Island isn’t too shabby…

…neither is Brooklyn.

But, like I just said, there’s really no place like Manhattan, though.

At least, for me.

Location: up to my eyeballs in bills and paperwork
Mood: busier than a one-armed coat hanger
Music: we should get together – ride baby, ride (Spotify)
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Manhattan Street Fairs

The struggle of the street fair

Probably, one of the best things about living in the heart of Manhattan is that there’s always something going on and you usually end up just stumbling across it.

Case-in-point: The other day, the kids were both away and the Firecracker and I found ourselves alone, looking for something to do.

Her: We can go downtown to get some chicken parm sandwiches, maybe?
Me: Sure, but I just saw that there’s a street fair not too far from us.
Her: Perfect, I didn’t really need the chix parm, I just wanted to be outside.

So, off we went.

The main thing you do at a NYC street fair is struggle over what – of all the amazing looking food – are you gonna ultimately eat?

Her: How about bratwurst? You love German food.
Me: I do! But I don’t wanna end up stuffing myself with something and end up wishing I ate something else instead.

That’s pretty much how I deal with all street fairs: I process every decision through FOMO, or, Fear Of Missing Out.

Honestly, though, it’s probably for the best as the stuff I’m always interested in is all the stuff I shouldn’t be eating.

These two fellas were super nice and very persuasive, but we managed to walk away without having a carb bomb.

There are other things there, like cool knickknacks, like these photo coasters, which I’ve told you about before.

Me: The plastic fell off on the back of some of them. Can I put them back on?
Seller: Wait, plastic? I don’t think you got them from me, then. I’ve not used plastic feet in over a decade.
Me: (laughing) That’s when I bought them from you!

In the end, despite all the amazing looking food everywhere, we were good and didn’t buy anything bad.

It was just a nice day to take a walk with one’s fave person that one’s not blood related to.

Location: my desk, wishing my back would stop being a jerk
Mood: ache-y
Music:  the stupid things I do for you or just for a taste (Spotify)
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Witty Staircases

L’esprit de l’escalier

I pride myself on being able to say the occasional witty retort.

Like when I was arguing politics with someone…

Him: You know, you should just admit that he has some good points.
Me: Well, then we’d both be wrong.

…or when I was dating this super clumsy girl who was essentially battering me every time we got together.

Her: When you are a klutz, you get hurt. When I’m a klutz, you get hurt.
Me: Have you considered *not* assaulting me.
Her: No.
Me: Well, at least you’re consistent.

But there are plenty of times where I think of the perfect thing to say waaaaaay after the fact.

The French call that L’esprit de l’escalier or staircase wit.

It was coined by an 18th-century French philosopher, who described the phenomenon as thinking of the perfect comeback or response only after the moment has passed, like when you’re walking away, down a staircase – hence the name.

Case-in-point, I recently, I had a conversation with the Firecracker.

Her: Can you put the cantaloupe away?
Me: It has to ripen.
Her: Put it in a cabinet.
Me: You want me to put a cantaloupe into a cabinet?
Her: (slowly nods)

What I shoulda said was: Well, I can’t…ya dope.

I would never call her a dope, but it sounded funny

Or when we were discussing heading to Boston.

Her: They have a really good transit system, we won’t need a car.
Me: I thought you said it was really old?
Her: It is, but it’s still reliable. Like you – old but reliable.
Me: Blargh.

What I shoulda said was: Joke’s on you – I’m both old AND unreliable.

Or the time I made a comment about her dancing.

Me: Are you having a seizure?
Her: Aw, just get a few drinks in you and you’ll think I’m doing a great job.
Me: Tenuous.

What I shoulda said was: Define: “A few,” and “great.”

But I tease her because she is so great, so I have to take her down a peg or two from time-to-time.

Which brings me to my old friend Katsmw, and something a bit related to l’esprit de l’escalier.

Well, kinda.

I just forgot to mention two funny little things in my last entry that she pointed out after the fact.

See, Katsmw was at the last Memorial Day with us and noted that I forgot to mention that Cappy, Gar, and Duck taught her how to play the card game, 鋤大弟 (pronounced chor dai di).

Man, we used to play that game for hours; there was one time that I played it with Bobby and the fellas through the night until it was dawn.

In any case, the Firecracker won the first hand she ever played.

Then, she won the second one as well, something that amused Katsmw no end.
Should also mention that she reminded me that she had this following conversation with my son.

Her: Are you sure you want to go back into the pool? It’s cold today!
Him: It’s fine. I run hot.

The boy knows how to turn a phrase, that’s for sure.

Hopefully, he’ll keep his comedic timing as he gets older.

Location: a terrace in my building, watching the workmen do their thing
Mood: still sore (shoulder)
Music: Dur dur d’être bébé (Spotify)
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Memorial Day 2025

Plus a turtle release

For the fourth year in a row, had a really nice Memorial Day get-together with my college friends.

It came on the heels of our night out with the Frenchman and Bryson, so neither the Firecracker nor I really ate much before we arrived.

And once we did, the eating began…

Decades ago, I remember going with the Professor to some events and he always brought stuff like canned tuna fish so that he could see his friends but also stick to his diet – he was a competitive bodybuilder before he was a professor, of all things.

In any case, I have a reputation for bringing (a) peanut butter and (b) low-carb wraps to stuff.

This time, though, the hosts had both ready for me.

These are the kinda friends you gotta keep forever.

Now, my friends Cappy and Duck, did the opposite by bringing amazeballs carbs in the form of limited-edition donuts from doughnutplant.com…

…and Chinese pastries.

I couldn’t resist so the low-carb wraps were essentially for naught.

But I definitely had my fill of protein…

…protein…

…and more protein.

One thing that we all really enjoyed was Korean fusion tacos, where – instead of taco meat – there were various types of Korean BBQ with kimchi on top.

Absolutely killer.

The kids thought so too – oh, I ended up getting alla kids Scenic Fights shirts, so here’s a brief pic of them wearing them while eating.

There was one bit of unpleasantness: One of our core group – the guy that is probably the main glue that keeps us all together – had to bail super last minute because of health issues.

We’re all hoping he’ll be ok.

The fear is that, as we get older, we’ll all have these kinda things to deal with.

Turning to a (much) less serious matter, in the middle of the day, the host’s son released a turtle that he’d been nursing back to health for a while.

This is what constitutes wildlife around here.

It was late when we headed back.

Another great Memorial Day weekend with good friends.

The older I get, the more I value these kinda things.

Location: a street fair with my favourite person I’m not blood-related to.
Mood: sore (shoulder)
Music: say what really hurts. You can count on me (Spotify)
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Japanese(ish) food with my Japanese friends

A grand time with friends

The Frenchman and Bryson were game to come my way to get some food, so we headed to our usual Japanese BBQ haunt in the area the other day.

We’d all decided that the adults would head out and get dinner while the kids would stay by mine.

To this end, I ordered – initially – one pizza pie and picked up some snacks and drinks as well.

Bryson: Uh you might want to get more than one pie. Two teenagers, and three boys. I know [my son] can eat three slices when he is hungry.
Frenchman: Was just gonna say.
Firecracker: Yeah, one pie isn’t gonna cut it.

I don’t have a lotta kids over my pad, so I ordered two pies and let the kids do their thing as the rest of us went out and stuffed our fat faces.

Interestingly, on the way there, evidently, we walked right by my neighbors several blocks from the pad and they snapped this pic of us.

Both Bryson and the Frenchman – despite the latter’s moniker – are Japanese, so I was a bit hesitant bringing them there.

But everyone really enjoyed everything, and the conversation was great, as usual.

Person1: So, how did you all meet?
Person2: We were neighbors and…
Person3: I asked him to come to Barnes and Noble with me, and he said no…

The alcohol – including that beer tower above – didn’t hurt…

…and everyone seemed to enjoy the s’mores, except me. I’m just not that into sweets.

Or, to steal a line that my dad used to say alla time, I’m sweet enough.

Afterward, we walked home, although no paparazzi this time around.

When we got back, the kids were all having a grand time – and while they killed the drinks and a lotta the snacks, they only ate one of the two pizza pies.

Me: Ah-ha – vindicated!

We all ended up drinking and chatting until it was late.

My kid went to a birthday party that day, had this impromptu party, and was heading to another get-together the following day for Memorial Day.

But I’ll tell you all about it in the next entry.

Location: not Staten Island, due to the rain. Have to head there next week.
Mood: still super busy
Music: Things will happen while they can (Spotify)
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