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personal

Accomplishment is fish in the freezer and going paperless

Had, what I consider to be, a productive weekend

Him: Are you around? I went fishing this weekend. How much stripped bass do you want?
Me: Sweeeeeet!
Him: Want to meet me in front of MSG near the taxi stand around 4?

Went down to Madison Square Garden this past Sunday, fighting off tourists, and met up with my buddy Steele for what could easily have passed for cocaine transaction but instead involved striped bass. We chatted about lakes and rivers, exchange some advice, he told me about https://www.reelchase.com and then I was on my way.

As I stood in front of the queue for taxis and watched people come and go with their luggage I thought it pretty funny that I was probably the only one there for a fish-related transaction.

Well, it is NYC, I could be wrong. You never know.

As for the rest of my weekend, when the guy came to fix the radiator last week, realized that I have boxes and boxes of old files and books still.

So I I bought this scanner and went to town on them.

In all, I filled three 30 gallon recycling bags full of paper.

Now I’ve got fresh fish in the freezer and 90 gallons less paper in the house. Not quite paperless but close.

A pretty good weekend if you ask me.

You may disagree but when you turn 40, these are big accomplishments. Big.

Location: in a room with -90 gallons of paper
Mood: accomplished
Music: But I know my lines and my graphs and my math
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Woodwork and a stay in Manhattan

We’ll take any excuse for a staycation

Had some carpenters come into the pad to fix some flooring. They were supposed to come at 8:30 on Saturday but instead they showed up at 11:30.

That’s the thing with a lot of service people; they’re very flaky. I find that if they’re very responsive, I’m their customer for life.

Having said that, they did a seriously bang-up job on the floors. Essentially, part of it was damaged a long time ago by a previous occupant. They came in, tore up that entire section, replaced the wood, and stained/sealed it so that it looks exactly like the old wood.

Because we weren’t really sure that they’d get it all done in a day, the wife and I booked a hotel a few blocks south of us called On the Avenue.

Turned out that we didn’t need to stay there since the work was done so quickly but we like being tourists in our own city neighborhood. We had an early dinner at Serafina, an early night at the hotel and were back at home with our need wood floors the next day.

And more pizza the next day to boot.

Her: Oh, did you put that slice of pizza into the oven for me?
Me: (pause) Yes?
Her: (suspicious) Really?
Me: (pause) Yes?

When I’m hungry, common sense is the first thing to go.

Location: waiting for the summer heat to return
Mood: anxious
Music: everybody’s gotta get there somehow and I won’t wait
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business personal

Waiting for the chime that tells me to get back to work

Either insanely busy or not-at-all and little in-between

Her: Do you want some ice cream?
Me: Nah, I’m good. (five minutes later) Actually, that looks pretty good, can I have a few bites of your…
Her: Touch it and I’ll kick you in the face.

Finished up with this massive project last week so I’ve had a bit of downtime again.

With how my work is structured, I’m usually either insanely busy or not at all. There’s scant in-between.

I’m also at a age/position in my work life where I don’t actually have to show up anywhere as long as the work’s done. It’s a plus of being 40, I suppose.

Because of that, it takes me a little while to get used to having time to myself; feel almost guilty that I’m not doing something work related.

But then as I finally get used to downtime, I’ll get an email from a client that goes, Logan! Hey, I have a question for you.

Still, for the next three days at least, my plans are meeting up with a friend for drinks, working on some rapier/dagger fencing, some wrasslin, and a stack of magazines.

All the while, I’m listening for that sound that my computer makes when that email inevitably comes in telling me to get back to work.

!Ding!

Location: my apartment, waiting for it
Mood: rested
Music: Maggie advances to the final. Who knew that she had the goods?
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A daiquiri is not a frozen daiquiri

A daiquiri is completely different than a frozen daiquiri – also a pic of me with a hi-top fade

Her: What the…?
Me: Well, I did ask for a hightop fade.
Her: You did?
Me: Of course I didn’t! Look at me! I look like Kid from Kid ‘n Play.

Because of the insane heat in New York the past few weeks, been trying to do whatever I could to keep cool.

One thing was to go out with my buddy PB to a place around me called the Gin Mill and ask for a daquiri.

Like always, the waitress said, “We don’t have a blender.”

For pete’s … let’s clear up something right now: A daiquiri is as different from a frozen daiquiri as a yogurt is from frozen yogurt. As different as chocolate is from hot chocolate.

They’re completely different things.

Don’t know when it started that people think that the only daiquiris that exist are the frozen kind. At it’s most basic, a daiquiri is limeade and rum. That’s it.

Caipirinha, a Brazilian daiquiri
Caipirinha – essentially a daiquiri with sugercane rum.

Here’s my version of it:

  • Shot of light rum
  • Juice of one-half lime
  • 1/3 to 1/2 shot of sugar syrup or agave
  • Ice-filled glass
  • Top off with seltzer or water

And when it comes to beating the heat, that plus a fan is the classic way to do it.

A recent Esquire article titled, In Defense of the Daiquiri had the exact same issue with the blender and noted that, “It’s one of those cocktails that’s hard to make well because you can’t hide.”

I’ll tell people that’s why I drink them.

But that’s a lie.

You and I know that the real reason is that I just like to get rum into my fat belly.

Her: Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. Bring your big head over here.
Me: Hey…
Her: (hugging my head) It’ll grow back. (thinking) What’s the circumference of this thing?

Kid 'n' Play

Location: 21:00 yest, thrust, parry, thrust on the UWS
Mood: tired
Music: Pretend the water is champagne and fill my glass again and again
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Picasso and his napkin art

Effortless things take years of effort to accomplish

Female client: This bill is outrageous! Who do you think you are?
Me: I think I’m someone that needs to get paid for the work I do.
Her: For four pages of work?
Me: Let me tell you a story: Picasso was sitting in a cafe one day when someone asked him to draw something on a napkin. He did and asked for $12,000. Like you, the man said that it was outrageous because it only took him a minute, to which Picasso said, “Actually, that took me 40 years.”
Her: So you think you’re Picasso?
Me: No, but I did spend the 15 years learning how to write that four page document you’re holding in your hand. If you could have done it, you would’ve. You came to me, not the other way around. You don’t work for free, why do you expect me to?

It’s a never-ending thing in the service industry: explaining the difference between value and price.

Igor Stravinsky and Pablo Picasso collaborated...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Location: back from the gym
Mood: irritated
Music: my brush would take me there But only If I were a painter
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Jaws or Poetry is in the limitations

Jaws was the world’s first blockbuster because of what it couldn’t do


Me: What about Wednesday?
Her: (looking at calendar) I think I’m free Wednesday night.
Me: Cool, it’s a date. (laughing) This is like when we were first dating.

Planning out a date night with the wife, we discussed what film to see.

Years ago, summer was when Hollywood put out its shlock. Their very best films they brought out in wintertime – the holidays – and the dregs of what they had was reserved for the summer.

That is until Jaws.

famous poster
famous poster (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jaws was such a massive success that it actually created the modern meaning of the word, “blockbuster” as well as the entire summer movie season.

And the reason why it was a blockbuster was because of a mechanical shark named “Bruce” (after his lawyer!)

Bruce was built specifically for the film but the problem was that it was so experimental that it broke down constantly. All these scenes that Spielberg had envisioned in his head, Bruce couldn’t do.

And a pivotal scene was when a girl is attacked by the monster.

So Spielberg decided to not show the the shark/the monster/Bruce at all. Instead, you see the girl being yanked under and dragged about.

If you’ve seen the film, you’re seeing this scene in your head as you read this. I saw the film 25 years ago and still remember it vividly.

Partly because of that scene, and a number of other changes Spielberg made because Bruce was so persnickety, Jaws became that first blockbuster.

Art is in the limitations.

When I wrassle, there are a number of things I can’t do because of my injuries. And there are some things my fencing students can’t do because of injuries or physical limitations. So we find other things to do. Cool things. Artful things.

I’ve reached a point in my life where, when things don’t go my way, I think, OK, what can we do differently here? And more times than not, it’s better.

I suppose it’s a plus of being older. Which is good, because there are a lot of negatives.

Barber: You know, you should wear a hat.
Me: I do in the winter.
Her: Good. Hats make older people like you look distinguished. Plus you can hide your bald spot.

 

Location: looking for air conditioned rooms
Mood: steamy
Music: Well, might as well give it another day
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Scytales On the Dark Side

Imagine if we could send messages to ourselves

Him: It’s funny, isn’t it? How something like a song can snap you back to a time in your life?
Me: I don’t think I’ve heard that song in decades.

A scytale’s just a stick that’s of a certain thickness.

A scytale
A scytale (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you took, say, a belt, and wrapped it around a stick and then proceeded to write across it, it would make a rudimentary code. While wrapped around the stick, you could read it normally but unwrap it and it would just be a jumble of letters unless you had a stick of the same diameter.

Spartans and the Athenians use to write to each other in this code. Somehow got onto the topic of codes with my wife.

Me: I used to write these coded letters to myself.
Her: Why yourself?
Me: (laughing) No one’d ever play with me as a kid. No one ever wants to play with the really fat minority nerd. So I just wrote them to myself.
Her: (patting me on the head) It’s hard being a kid.

This all came about because my brother called me to talk about that song above and our childhood in general. It was rough for both of us but for different reasons.

However, my one saving grace may have been my insomnia. Because it’s all very hazy. I just remember being lonely a lot but not really discrete things about it. I wonder if he had such a buffer.

In any case, I think my wife feels sorry for that version of me. And in a weird way, I do too. Because he’s me but he is not I.

But I remember that version of me sitting and listening to that song and wishing he could sing.

Sorry kid, 28 years later, we still can’t.

But we can do things I never dreamt I’d be able to do. And have the most amazing life.

Still, while I am very grateful for everything I have, I did wonder what it would be like if I could send a coded message to my younger self. After all, listening to that message was like him talking to me.

I’d send two, actually:

  • One would tell him that everything would be fine: Everything is the same but different. The acne would clear up, the fat would go away, and sheer terror of life would stop. Just stop.
  • Of course, the other would tell him to buy Apple stock when it was $7 a share like there was no tomorrow.

I’m no sentimental fool.

Location: on my way to other latitudes
Mood: pleased
Music: like a dream, make me feel crazy
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And in the “I knew it!” file…

Study shows that people that meet online are less likely to get divorced


A recent study came out that showed that:

  1. more than a third of people that marry met online, and
  2. are less likely to divorce.

This makes sense to me. As I said before, online dating is like having an aunt named Aunt eMatch saying, “I’ve got a girl I think you might like – and here’s her resume, a buncha pics, and a writing sample.”

While I didn’t meet my wife online, she represents exactly what I was looking for. And I’d been looking for her for a while. After all, we’re always looking for our people.

On a related point, because of a number of reasons, I have a good deal of twenty-something friends on FB. I’m always slightly amused and nauseated at how much the profess their undying love to each other, then have an online spat, and then sign on again to write egregiously bad poetry about soulmates.

Heard a joke once where someone said something like, Your soulmate is the guy that had the locker next to you in high school? What are the chances?!

Dating is tiring and depressing with occasionally bright spots of hope – mainly because it’s a constant stream of being disappointed and disappointing others. But just like anything of value, if it were easy, it wouldn’t be valuable.

The difficult and rare things are valuable.

I think a large part of divorces happen because either (a) someone wanted it easy, and/or (b) there wasn’t enough connection to begin with.

There’s no such thing as a soulmate. There is such thing as a lotta hard work and having enough in common to begin with.

Inadvertent comedy doesn’t hurt either.

Me: (entering room) Are you ok?
Her: I just accidentally typed in Wetflix instead of Netflix. (pause) I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.

Location: about to run to an office in shorts and a tee-shirt
Mood: contented
Music: It’s still hard to wait around. The problem is this seems so easy to miss
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Core belief 3: You are what you decide to be

America is full of second acts

Don’t know if I mentioned why my bone is chipped in my right hand; it’s because one of my students whacked it with a sword a few weeks ago. The doc said rest was the best thing because of how it was hit.

So I spent the week continuing with spring cleaning.  Finally felt good enough to go back to the gym over the weekend.

Coach: There’s always something wrong with you!
Me: But I keep coming back.
Him: This is true.

I woke up one day years ago and decided to be a fencer. And now I am one.

Just like I decided one day to be a lawyer after being a network analyst.

Not that long ago, I decided to be a wrestler.

There’s this famous quote from the fella that wrote The Great Gatsby that goes: There are no second acts in American lives.

I’ll add it to the list of things that have the air of truth without any actual truth to it.

Because that’s pure hogwash.

It’s one of my core beliefs – and the truth – that America is nothing if not an endless series of new beginnings. My heroes inevitably tend to be examples of second acts, like the amazing Hedy Lamarr.

People decide to start on their second acts all the time. But the only difference among them is that some press on and others do not.

There’s this rather sentimental saying in the Brazilian Ju-Jitsu world that a black belt is merely a white belt that kept trying.

But unlike Fitzgerald’s saying, that one’s actually true.

And so, injured knee, injured neck, torn muscles, and fractured thumb, notwithstanding, I keep showing up. For no reason other than I choose to.

I’m finding that alone is makes all the difference.

Her: I asked my dad what he did about his arthritis.
Me: What did he say?
Her: He said he takes glucosamine and is more careful doing things. (pause) Oh, and he says he tries not to get whacked by swords.

 

Location: my room, which is about 100000 degrees
Mood: ambitious
Music: what I want and what I need, can finally be the same
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Mobile Phone Food Photo Post for Friday

Headed out to the Wilds of NJ to meet some friends

 

Met up with Nadi and some friends in Morristown NJ for dinner last night. No real reason, we just meet up every so often.

Me: Can I get a pina colada? (table groans) What? It’s summertime. And: rum.
Nadi: I wonder if there have umbrellas here.
Waitress: (with drink) I had him make a little fruit garnish for you.
Me: Sweeeeeeeet.

Also ended up having some mussels with pomme frites (good, but I liked mine better)…

 

And chicken and waffles – which was the only thing we didn’t enjoy…

 

Before I took the train home.

 

Summer’s already here. I’ll need more rum.

Location: At the start of summer, sigh
Mood: heated
Music: Stylin my metaphors when I formulate my flows (uh)
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