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personal

Then kunckle up and swing

UWS NYC

Her: (watching the tourists at 30 Rock) It’s funny. People come all the way here to see our town.
Me: Yeah. It’s not notice things when we live here.

Had a date night with the wife; we don’t do it often enough but it’s nice when we get around to it. Went to the same place we went around last year.

Afterward, we took a nice stroll back home. It’s good, being tourists in your own city.

———-

Work’s finally slowed down a bit, for better or for worse. Had some time to work on some other projects of mine.

NYer Lionel Trilling once said, “Our culture peculiarly honors the act of blaming, which it takes as the sign of virtue and intellect.” I add that to that old Chateaubriand quote, “You are not superior just because you see the world in an odious light.”

Just don’t get why people think negativism equals reasoned intellect. If anything, unsupported criticism just makes you look like a churl. And a douchebag.

There’s this company with the following business model: for a fee – they’ll read your book and write an honest review of it. So I put my money where my mouth is and requested one.

What I got in return was a scathing review, which was disappointing. But then I read the review closely, noticed some odd things. The reviewer:

  1. only mentioned the hero in one sentence
  2. didn’t mention the antagonist – at all
  3. didn’t mention anything that happened after page 30.
  4. didn’t mention any themes (revenge, loyalty, etc) or really anything of substance
  5. instead focused a third of the review on a single minor scene (on page 24) out of 276 pages.

That’s when I realized that this guy just skimmed it, dashed off a review, and took my dough. There’s nuthin honest about that.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, saw that the reviewer, amongst other things:

  • doesn’t understand how to use a colon
  • doesn’t know the difference between “blonde” and “blond,”
  • doesn’t know how to spell “plot lines.”

There’s more, but that’s enough for now. And that’s when I went from being disappointed to feeling ripped-off.

So I actually contacted an editor and told him that I’m not just some disappointed author, I’m someone that reviews books regularly. And I know the difference between a real book review is and a slap-dash quickie dollar.

And I posited this simple question to the editor: “Do you and your company stand by this review?”

  • If he doesn’t, I want my money back.
  • If he does, I’ll print the review here and let you decide if it’s a valid review.

Should note that when I write a book review, my name is on it. I own it, good or bad. In this blog, on FB, at the NYJB, at Lawline. I own what I put out into the world and I stand by it.

Here’s an anonymous review from someone that clearly doesn’t understand basic rules of English, who didn’t read my book, and tells me it’s no good.

If you read me regularly, you know that I can handle lively debate or a fair disagreement. What I can’t stand is horses__t and bullies.

It’s like that time that guy ran out and said he would drop me. Remember thinking, You must not know ’bout me.

Told that guy to knuckle up and swing because I knew something he didn’t: I was qualified for the task at hand.

As he sulked away, he and I both knew he was not similarly situated.

And now, it appears we’ve arrived at a similar junction.

 

Location: yesterday, celebrating Easter
Mood: offended
Music: “Do you believe what you’re sayin’?” Yeah right now, but not that often.
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personal

Becoming couth

Cocktails in the UWS, NYC

Like everyone else, we got caught up in the lottery fever.

Her: Shoot, our Powerball was “24” and the last winning Powerball was “24.”
Me: So we have ten tickets that have the same Powerball as the last winning ticket? I’ll just grab a quick-pick.
Her: (later) So? What’s our new Powerball number?
Me: 24.

Got good luck nor bad luck; just strange luck. This time, didn’t even win a dollar.

———-

Me: It’s nice spending time together.
Her: Yeah, in the five minutes you’re not on your computer.
Me: Three minutes. I have deadlines.

HG and I found time recently to chill out and watch Food Inc. It should be required viewing for all Americans – we really are too far removed from our food.

We also saw this flick called The Double, which we really enjoyed but got critically panned. On a related note, we struggled to get through The Descendents and have zero interest in The Artist.

We’ve come to this conclusion: those films that are critically acclaimed, we just don’t find all that interesting while the films that critics hate, we seem to enjoy.

Evidently, we’re uncouth.

How does one become more couth?

Location: running all over the joint
Mood: finally not sick
Music: wanna pillowfight in the middle of the night
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You are you who are because of the parents to whom you were born

Lobster tail dinner

How much do you think the US gives as a percentage of Gross Domestic Product? In other words, how much do you think we give outta the all the money the country makes in a year? 5%, 10%? Answer below.

———-

Had an interesting online exchange with a stranger:

Him: Poverty is … well to put it as unpolitical as I can, something that occurs because parents don’t know how to teach their kids any better. That’s as nice as I can put it without being sadistic about it.
Me: How did you get your parents? You didn’t work for them, you did nothing to get the ones you did. If you were born to parents in North Korea or Somalia, your life would be vastly different if not for sheer dumb luck. Don’t pat yourself on the back for having the brilliance of sheer stupid luck.

He gave a lot more nonsense answers before finally admitting that the only real difference between him and the world he snidely judges comes down to a child’s taunt: Heads I win, Tails your lose.

We are – almost completely – the product of the parents to whom we were born, good or bad.

Said this to someone at work who immediately quipped, What if you were adopted? which I said, proves my point. If you were born to a young mother who gave you up for adoption, that changes your life dramatically.

Likewise, if you were born to a pastor (the “PK” as we used to say) you were stereotypically either on one extreme or the other in terms of behaviour patterns.

You don’t necessarily ape your parents, but you are shaped by them.

To “be counted among the world’s richest 1 percent, a single individual has to earn just $34,000 a year. Members of the planet’s true middle class, meanwhile, live on just $1,225 a year.”

That’s astounding.

If you read me – ie, have internet, have a computer – you’ve won the real lottery of life by being part of the true 1%.

If you do nothing else to pay back the aether for your dumb luck, at least tell the people that gloat over their good fortune and look down everyone else, “Shut the _____ up.”

———-

The US gives a total of 0.19% of GDP to foreign aid; in other words out of every dollar we make, the US gives 0.19 cents to foreign aid.

http://www.gatesfoundation.org/annual-letter/2010/Pages/rich-countries-foreign-aid.aspx

(c) Gates Foundation

Location: sick in bed
Mood: sick – send soup
Music: Words as weapons sharper than knives
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business personal

Pushing all that doubt

Rainy day on the UWS in New York City

Her: I’m so excited! The Museum of Math is going to be open soon; it’s right next to The Museum of Sex.
Me: Great! I’m only good at one of those things.

A big part of my eat-what-you-kill life’s writing proposals for certain gigs. Afterwards, ship them off and write more or work while I wait. Usually both.

Back in they day, used to get one outta two back. Then from 2009 to 2011, it was more like one outta four or five would come back. No fun.

In the past three months, sent out maybe 16? About seven came back, which was good but then last week, eight more came in with only one outstanding.

Up to my eyeballs in work.

This has both it’s good points and bad: the good being scratch, which is always welcome; the bad being that all of my projects have to take a backseat.

Have y’ever watched any of those nature shows where this group of impalas’re just grazing in Africa next to a buncha lions? Then all hell breaks loose when the lions go after the impalas?

Regardless of outcome, at some point, the lions are back to chilling and the impalas go back to grazing.

There’s some innate ability of animals to compartmentalize their fear of the hypothetical; at some point, think that humans lost that and I’m no different.

It’s always the same. In my line of work, there’re days when when the seconds drag and days that the hours fly by.

When it’s the former, y’wonder if you should have  taken that cushy job downtown.

It’s not easy, to push all that doubt to the side of your mouth.

Doesn’t matter, got no time to philosophize. Got deadlines.

Location: The NY City Bar
Mood: sick
Music: We brave bee stings and all
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personal

The hours drag but the years sprint away

Westin Hotel in Jersey City

Her: (after applying make-up) See the power of make-up?
Me: You always look good.
Her: Awww, you don’t have to say that.
Me: It’s not like I married you for your personality.

We took a trip out to Jersey for her grandmother’s 90th birthday (and other reasons) this past weekend and stayed over at the Westin in Jersey City. It’s nice to get away from city, even if it’s only across the river and for just a bit.

90 years. Find that pretty astounding, actually. I’ll be 90 in 2063, which seems like a lifetime away but it’s only 18,615 days away.

It’s a weird time in my life where the hours drag but the years sprint away.

While out there, we managed to grab a couplea episodes of the BBC show Sherlock, which puts Sherlock Holmes in the 20th Century. Truly somea the best writing on television. Do yourself a favour and try to catch it.

Speakinga writing, am hit with a massive case of writer’s block. No joy.

While out in Jersey, drove by the place that my ex used to live and s’funny when you look back on your life and remember the different versions of yourself like they were different people.

It’s always me but it is not I.

Cake at Fire and Oak, Jersey City
Coffee at Fire and Oak, Jersey City

Location: getting to the post office
Mood: rejuvenated
Music: all these places have their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall
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personal

Red hot pot and pink cold glass

Chinese hot pot in Chinatown, NYC

Waitress: …and here’s your drink.
Friend: Is your drink pink?
Me: Yes. I’m ok with that. (to waitress) I don’t get an umbrella?

Was supposed to go out Saturday a groupa friends for hot pot but that fell through so met up with my buddy Steel and his brother in Chinatown instead.

For those of you that don’t know what that is, it’s essentially a Chinese fondue with broth insteada cheese. We ordered some lamb, beef, calamari, bamboo shoots, amongst other things; we devoured it all and then washed it down with beer. His brother ended up treating us to dinner.

Me: We should hang out with more doctors.
Him: I know!

Afterward, took a walk to the LES where we had some more drinks. Steel and I both love to cook so we ended up discussing how America’s Test Kitchen is more like Good Eats now.

Me: I made their margarita mix – it was great.
Him: I’ll send you their recipe for a Chocolate Blackout cake; I used powered buttermilk in it and it was a hit.

Ordered a hard cider with berries that ended up being pink. My friends just shook their heads and then we all parted ways.

Thompson LES hotel, NYC

Headed over to a friends bday party, which ended up moved. There was a young blond woman asking for directions with a familiar accent.

Me: (in German) ‘Scuse me, where do you want to go?
Her: (confused in English) You speak German?
Me: (in German) Don’t be silly, I’m Chinese. Why would I speak German? Now where do you want to go?

She invited me to go with her to a party but I told her that I was meeting my wife and some friends and went on my way.

Finally met up with my other buddy and his lady friend at a hotel room in the Thompson LES. Felt like a third wheel so I bounced home. The next morning, found an email with a recipe for Chocolate Blackout cake.

I forget oftentimes that I still live in the same city as when I was single.

View from the Thompson LES hotel, NYC

Location: about to run to the post office
Mood: hopeful
Music: if you’re free to make a choice, just look towards the west
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business personal

How putting on a presentation is like learning a language

No stopping sign in NYC

Me: (to chairwoman) Gotta be honest, at about the half-way mark, I mentally checked out and started planning my vacation.
Her: (laughing) No problem, I do that all the time.

As parta my real life, am a member of a number of committees. Mosta them are fine – can usually sit back and enjoy some simple carbohydrates and write in my head while people talk – but one committee I’ve been working with has a big presentation to do.

The thing is, they’re all experts in their field, which’s great, but this doesn’t make them experts at putting together a presentation.

We’ve all sat through a terrible presentation before, yeah? The presentations that ramble on and on without a clear agenda or salient point. My personal feeling’s that putting on a presentation’s like learning a language.

The way language should be taught’s by teaching a grammatical structure first. Once the basic outline of a sentence construct’s done, you can just swap out vocabulary.

English: The more I ______ the more _________I am.
German: Je mehr ich _______ desto mehr ________ich.
Chinese: 我越____我越___.

English: The more I eat, the more fat I am.
German: Je mehr ich esse, desto mehr Fett ich.
Chinese: 我越吃我越胖。

Basically, if you want a good presentation, y’gotta have the clear topic/point first, then a clear structure, then everything else. In this committee everyone started talking about all the big name people they could get to speak without figuring out how it was going to be structured.

This actor named Herbert Beerbohm Tree once said that A committee should consist of three men, two of whom are absent.

So I made myself absent going somewhere else in my head.

————

Him: So I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you have no cavities.
Me: Oh that’s great. I brush my teeth four times a day.
Him: Well, that’s the bad news, you’re brushing way too much. Can’t remember the last time I said that to someone.

My dentist’s trying to get me to wear braces – he says that since I have pretty straight teeth, it would only be for a few months to make them perfect. Don’t know if most people need perfect teeth. Good enough is good enough, I’m thinking.

Well, I suppose it’s something else to put on my list of self-improvement.

Location: in fronta the manuscript
Mood: excited
Music: don’t believe in anything but myself
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No Stopping Anytime

No stopping sign in NYC

Me: (in bed at 12:01AM) Happy New Year!
Her: (turning around) Happy new year – g’night.

Well, it’s 2012. But you already knew that.

S’funny, when you’re younger, you want to stay up till midnight; when you’re older, you try to make make it to midnight. Was thinking that this was the year I’d stop writing the blog but it’s still like my bed of reeds, the place to tell things.

Been tweaking the manuscript with the help of an editor and she’s been great. Hopefully, when she’s done, it’ll be solid and ready to roll. If you’re interested in an advanced read, lemme know.

Every time I finish one project, got another one waiting. There’s some weird thing in me where I can’t just let things well enough alone. Suppose it’s some innate need to always be busy.

One project is that I’m trying to get done is buy out my buddy that owns my pad with me. In Manhattan, the average price per square foot of an apartment is $1,238 so my friend and I took a chance about a decade ago and bought our pad together.

He’s moved out to the burbs with his wife and kid so I’m trying to make some things happen. It’s even more stressful than it was back then cause so much more is on the line now. Plus, got the cursea age and knowledge now – two things I didn’t have the first time around.

Me: Think I took a lot more chances when I was younger.
Him: Think we all did.

There’s a point where y’stop doing things and taking those chances. And study after study shows that the sooner you stop, the sooner you die.

So, I’m off to work on some contracts, wrassle, eat some chili, work some more, tweak the manuscript, eat…it goes on.

There really is no stopping anytime.

———-

Admin note: For 2012, one resolution will be to regularly update this blog every Monday at 9AM, and most Wednesdays at 9AM. Just FYI…

Location: back in fronta the desk, ready to get stuff done.
Mood: anxious
Music: sometimes I find myself reeling, twisting, and rolling in a plastic sea
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All of your life’s problems can be divided into health, wealth, and relationships

LED snowflakes on a building in NYC

Her: (cleaning) Do you know you have a can of chili up here behind the dishes?
Me: Yeah, that’s my emergency stash.

It’s a funny season for relationships – at least three couples I know that “broke up” are back together again, while my FB feed is exploding with “XX is now in a relationship with YY.” Assume that’s the Lockdown effect and it’s contrapositive.

Health, Wealth, and Relationships – all of your life’s problems can be put into onea those buckets.

My relationships seem to be stable, with the occasional hiccup. As for health, nothing major – thank goodness – although I think I’m coming down with something or just run down.

And the reason I’m run down is because of that wealth part: on the negative side, it’s been a busier Nov/Dec than it’s been in years.

On the positive side, it’s been a busier Nov/Dec than it’s been in years. All this means less time for side projects like this blog and the other things I’m trying to get started.

Since we’re talking about wealth, been thinking of that formula mentioned a while ago, which I’d like to slightly modify. Think that scratch and time have an inverse relationship that shifts as you age.

When you’re young, you’ve got a lot of time, so you concentrate on making scratch. When you’re old, you hopefully have more scratch but you’re running outta time. Then there’s that place in the middle, which is where I am and mosta the people I know. It’s a tug-a-war between conserving one and making the other. And we’re all hoping, in some small way, it’s important somehow.

Suppose there’s time for more philosophy later. Right now, got deadlines.

In case I don’t see you until next week, and if you read the same book as me, wish you Happy Xmas. If you don’t read the same book as me, wish you happy holiday.

If you don’t read any book, not sure what I wish you, but assume it’s something positive.

Location: getting dressed to go to the post office
Mood: sick maybe?
Music: I am a seeker, I seek both night and day
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personal

Yes, but it is not I

Church in NYC

My insomnia is back in a big way. Feel tired and irritable all of time. Worried that all the things I do to manage it aren’t working any more, which then keeps me up even longer. No fun.

The Professor was in town over the weekend so the wife and I went with him to the local dive bar. He’s one of my oldest friends but, oddly, we never really hung out until after college. The other funny thing’s that he was a wrestler in high school and some 20 years later, I’m trying it out.

Him: (to my wife) When I was a kid, I was a busboy at this restaurant. It was fine except one day they caught me trying a wrestling move on a bag of rice.
Me: (to my wife) That’s not what they were mad about. They were mad because he was naked and put lipstick on the bag of rice.

Old friends that make the cut are always good to have around. The problem’s that people change and you change. Sometimes the people that once mirrored you no longer do. Learned long ago, this isn’t a good thing, or a bad thing. It’s just a thing.

Coincidentally, went to church the next day and the pastor repeated a story that I wrote about over five years ago.

The story is that St. Augustine was once this womanizer who once famously prayed, da mihi castitatem et continentiam…sed noli (“Grant me chastity and continence…but not yet”). It should be noted that he’s also the patron saint of brewers, as an aside.

Anywho, he was a frequent visitor of prostitutes before he changed his life around. Afterward, he went back to visit an old place and ran into a prostitute he used to know in that biblical way. He continued on his way so she tried to get his attention for his usual and called out to him, Augustine, it is I.

To which, he replied without stopping, Yes, but it is not I.

I think I’m a better person now than I was a decade ago; actually, know I am. But to get here, had to let some people because they don’t reflect who I am any more. It’s like that Cowboy story I told you.

Sometimes you go away, sometimes they do, and sometimes people just stay. It’s how the world is and how it’s supposed to be. Accepting it’s the hardest thing, yeah?

Now if only this insomnia would go away.

Location: last night, in misery
Mood: guess
Music: in the morning i will wake up in the shivering cold
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