Run-of-the-mill Calamities

Everything keeps breaking down

I was rolling with my buddy Cruise the other day when I felt this sharp pain in my left foot and looked down, horrified to see my middle toe bent 90 degrees…in the wrong direction.

Holy shit! I said.

I’d put that pain at a solid 5, if 1 was nuthin and 10 was the worse pain in my life.

Without even thinking, I reached over and yanked it back into place, which shot my pain level up to a 10 but only for a second before it dropped down to a managable 2.

So, this whole week, I’ve been hobbling around with my toes taped up.

But it’s not just me, the kid’s been dealing with his own foot pain lately.

We went to an indoor gym the other day – something I’ll tell you about later – and he spent hours running around the place.

Figure he musta gotten a blister from all the activities so we were both hobbling around for a bit.

On a larger level, things in the building have been a mess too.

Things keeps breaking around the building so I gotta find people to come in and fix them.

To make matters worse, the hot water for the whole building completely stopped for some reason.

Only after the plumbers arrived did we figure out that it was the boiler’s mixing valve – which mixes the 212-degree water with city tap water to get hot water for our building – that called it quits.

After a full day of waiting around and some five hours of work, we finally had hot water again.

The kid helped out too, since I had to be in the basement, he was the one that measured the temps for us in the bathroom.

Him: It’s 130 degrees, dad!
Me: That’s too much, lemme know when it’s less.
Him: (two minutes later) It’s 129 degrees now!
Me: (laughing) OK, that’s only marginally helpful, kid. I meant like 120 or less?
Him: Oh, you shoulda said that.
Me: Fair. That’s on me.

On a macro level, the manhole cover a few blocks south of my pad blew off completely because of some fire under Amsterdam Avenue.

Smoke and firemen were everywhere.

Now, this happened just south of the Jewish Community Center (JCC) and everyone just heard this loud but muffled BOOM.

I’m pretty certain I’m not the only person that thought the worst.

But it wasn’t terrorism, just the run-of-the-mill calamities that NYC always has.

Which, in this day and age, is probably the best we can hope for.

Location: earlier, at a Halloween party that we’ve been going to for the past four years now
Mood: not salty
Music: hold onto me, cause I’m a little unsteady (Spotify)


The Logan Lowest thing

Venus and Flowers

Her: Out of all the Logan Lo things about you, this has got to be the Logan Lowest thing.
Me: It was from the neck up!

This isn’t the actual picture I sent in, but you get the idea.

Had to send in a selfie really urgently to try to secure this trip I have planned for me and the kid so I just snapped one and sent it in while it was top of mind.

Unfortunately, it was when I was already in bed and I wasn’t wearing a shirt – I do note that the picture was mainly from the neck up.

BUT it got flagged and rejected so I had to redo it or lose a chance to get a really affordable trip – something that’s a luxury for us since I’ve never actually been able to go on a trip with the boy in any meaningful way.

Her: What were you thinking, Lo?!
Me: I was thinking I needed to do this immediately, so I did!
Her: (shakes head)

While I’m certain she has questions about my judgment, she did take a walk home with me the other night.

We stopped by Venus et Fleur at Columbus Circle. They had real roses that last a year…and cost $1,000.

Me: I can pretty much promise you that I’ll never get you $1,000 flowers.
Her: I wouldn’t want you to! Still, they’re beautiful.
Me: Not $1,000 beautiful! We should leave because we’re both so clumsy that we’re bound to destroy like $10,000 worth of flowers here.
Her: (thinks then turns to leave) That’s very true…

Location: West End Avenue, in the rain, being told he’s a good kid
Mood: headache-y
Music: you’ve got the pulse, pulse of the city (Spotify)
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That’s really unnecessary

Coinbase finally got back to me

My MIL called me today to tell me that my son rang her while at the park today – he’s got this Dick Tracy watch thingy that we just got repaired.

You can kinda see in the pic above.

She said this was the conversation she overheard.

Him: That’s my grandma! Hi grandma!
Her: Are you with your friends?
Him: Yes. They’re a bit annoying.
Girl: (in the distance) I just wanted to give you a hug.
Him: (turning to her) That’s really unnecessary.

The kid is five. I’m literally raising a 65 year-old Italian man..

One that’s taken to lying on top of the couch cushions a la Snoopy. It’s so funny to see his particular personality develop.

Him: Do you know what street Sandy lives on?
Me: 125th?
Him: Close. But incorrect. She lives on 119th. (gently) It’s ok, papa. Now you know.

I mentioned to my MIL all the peculiar things he says.

Me: I wonder where he picks it up?
Her: (laughing) A lot of it from you!
Me: Really?

For example…

Me: It’s a pen…and a whistle!
Him: (nodding slowly) Well…that was unexpected.

…I didn’t realize that I said, “That was unexpected,” all that much, but there you go.

Was planning on writing more but Coinbase finally got back to me – 49 days after the fact – and pulled me outta this entry.

Evidently, the thieves didn’t get everything.

I can finally get that Metrocard I’ve been saving up for.

Location: just now, telling someone that I didn’t mind the cigarette
Mood: eh
Music: thinking ’bout something you said (Spotify)
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The difference between Knowledge and Wisdom

Understanding what it really means/Seeing the grey

10th Avenue in Manhattan, NYC

Worked pretty much this entire weekend. Beat tired.

Life was simpler when you’re young. There was ever only black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.

As you get older you realize there’s a lot of grey. Unless you never grow up. If you never grow up, then the world remains black and white. You don’t see the grey. Or all of the luck, stupid luck, and stupid involved in life.

If you see the grey, you see that there’s a lot of stupid involved in life.

Have you ever noticed that it’s the least educated, least traveled, least read of the people you know that have conspiracy theories? Because they have no background on which to base a logical conclusion, they make their own out of bits and pieces of trivia and fact.

They can’t discern the difference between knowledge and wisdom.

There’s this example in one of Malcolm Gladwell’s books where a writing teacher says to a buncha students that the election is the next day.

They’re to write about what it means.

And most of the kids write about the democratic process, the history of nation, the candidates, etc. Information, data, knowledge.

But one student understands what this really means. It means: No school tomorrow.

That’s wisdom. Understanding what things mean.

There’re people with the ability to see the grey and everyone else.

Stranger: How do they know they got the right guy? I mean, besides the shootout, the cop they shot, and the pictures, what evidence do they have these guys did anything?
Me: That’s true, besides the shootout, the cop they shot, the pictures – and the chase, the video, the ATM pics, the multiple eye-witnesses – besides those things, I suppose you’re right, they don’t have anything.

Location: in front of more papers
Mood: weary
Music: giving the academy a rain check
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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


The world limits us enough, why do it to ourselves?

Train arriving at Columbus Circle

Her: It looks worse, you should go see a doctor.
Me: Nah, I’ll be fine.

Wonder how many people died saying those as their last words.

Been going to the gym like crazy cause summer’s usually my slow time and I wanna get in as much gym time as possible before things start getting mad busy. So I was rolling with my buddy Car when we got onto the topic of MRSA (pronounced “mer-suh”). If you don’t know what that is, do NOT google it, instead, just believe me when I tell you that it’s gross and deadly. I’m a germaphobe by nature – to the point that no less than a dozen people remarked why I’d wrestle since that’s so unlike me. Which goes to show, that as much as I hate touching stuff, hate not knowing stuff even more.

Feara ignorance > OCD hand-washing.

In any case, had just shaved earlier that week and rolled and had gotten some razor burn. After a week, it started looking bad. Like real bad. After HG put her foot down, went to the local medi-merge where the lady doc walked into the room, took one look at me, and said, “You’ve got staph, man.” It wasn’t MRSA – thankfully – but it was something dangerous and gross. She gave me some meds and told me to go home and shave, which I did for the first time.

Lemme tell you: (a) it was insanely painful and (b) it far worse than I thought.

Killed all of my weekend plans. A weeka antibiotics later, about 90% back to normal.

The psychological scars’re gonna take a bit to get over though.

Do you know I’m scareda flying? Was the international sales manager for a Fortune 500 company and terrified of flying. But I board that plane every damn time.

Cause the world limits me enough; don’t need to do it to myself.

So Thursday, back in the gym.

Course, gonna be covered in plastic wrap from head-to-toe but that’s really neither here nor there.


Location: in fronta piles of papers
Mood: better
Music: rolling in the deep the scars
YASYCTAI: Do the uncomfortable things. (always/3 pts)

business personal

Over three years later, still hate mice and AT&T

Mona Lisa on a NYC Building

The snow just keeps coming. Parta the reason I live in the city is because I thought I wouldn’t have to shovel. This is not true.

In other news, was all over the city and beyond this week: went to the boogie-down Bronx, Yonkers, White Plains, Queens and Long Island. All on the same day. So at least work’s picking up.

Been thinking about canceling AT&T for some time now – over three years actually – since my reception is horrid is non-existent stinks sucks bites leaves much to be desired. But they’re like the mafia; they keep pulling you back in. I’m like a crow with my love of new shiny.

But then PB sent me this link and I rang them up. Spoke to a nice young lady and convinced her to send me a 3G microcell free of charge.

I’m telling ya, the most valuable skill y’can have is an ability to talk to people.

But since this @#$@#$ comes from AT&T, of course it doesn’t work. Can’t believe I left Sprint all those years ago and got into something worse.

Guess that’s my project for the day.

Location: in fronta more blinking lights
Mood: frustrated
Music: So I traveled back, down that road
YASYCTAI: Try to resolve that issue. (120 mins/1 pt)


Where life takes you


Building off Cooper Square in NYC

A buddy I’ve not seen in a bit came by the other day. We went out for a walk and randomly a friend of his invited him over to eat. So he invited me.

Next thing you know we’re on a cab heading west and sitting in some girl’s kitchen having some hommade jook and I’m moving a cello and he’s hanging a tapestry.

Funny where the day takes you sometimes.


Katsmw: Logan, I’ve told you this several times before!
Me: Sorry – most of the 90s and the first half of the 2000s were a blur to me.
Her: Why is that?
Me: My insomnia. Once I started sleeping well a few days in a row, it was like putting on glasses and seeing clearly.

Had some other friends over last night; an old college buddy and his wife. Made a roasted rack of lamb, potatoes, salad with blue cheese and cranberries rounded off with some gluhwein.

Afterward, played some Scattergories (lost one round and tied one round) and introduced him to the wonderful worlda rum.

At some point, y’sit around and chat about stories in college. Like how my buddy would come back from a hard run and then have a cigarette. He’s since quit. 17 years I’ve known the fella. It’s nice seeing how things change with old friends.

And how much things stay the same.

Me: (dropping carving knife onto floor) YIKES!
Everyone: Whoa!
Her: That could have cut off your toe!
Him: It fell into his lap first (laughing) so a toe woulda been the least of his problems.

Location: on way to Yonkers
Mood: busy
Music: with lovers and friends I still can recall


Speaking of “Eat-What-You-Kill”

View of an NYC entryway

Turning from my last post, once wrote about this mouse in my house. Bugger wouldn’t die. Just disappeared one day so figured some poison or cat got him.

Fast forward to last week, when I left my pad decked out in a full suit. Forgot something so I turned around and ended up face-to-face with a mouse. We stared at each other for a second, all high noon-like, before it turned and zipped into my pad.

Ran after it, dropping my briefcase. It flew into the bathroom so I did the same, slamming the door behind me to trap us both. Grabbing the metal wastebin in there, brought it down on it over and over again, missing each time. Neighbors musta thought I was clear starkers.

Fast buggers, they are.

Finally thought I got it but turns out the dents in the can gave it a second chance; when I lifted it, expecting to find the past-perfect form of mouse, it sprang away.

So did I, leaping four feet back like a ten-year old girl doing double-dutch. Course, my bathroom’s only three feet wide so ended up smashing in my cabinet door.

Deep breath, flipped the can around and slammed it down one last time. Poor bastard, the last thing it ever saw was some crazed Asian-dude in a brown suit bringing down a dented silver metal can on it.

To say that it was a bloody mess is not taking any literary license, lemme tell you.

Dunno how people – like farmers – regularly kill things. Then again, they’re probably not wearing a sweat-soaked three-piece using a dustbin. Maybe they are; what do I know?

Sorry little guy, didn’t wanna, but had to.

Her: (noticing the missing can later) What happened to the trash can here? (surprised) And what happened to the cabinet door!?
Me: (sighing) You don’t wanna know.
Her: (shaking head) I don’t want to know.

In other news: my bathroom floor’s spotless, I’ve decided I wouldn’t last in the wild; and I still hate AT&T;.

Location: still in front of computer screens
Mood: fulla fiber
Music: Early in the evenin’ just about supper time


Don’t really know

What’s the point of it all?

Cloudy day in NYC

Her: What was that sound!?
Me: Was working on something and the live power cable hit the fan.
Her: Logan! You’re going to kill yourself some day. (laughing) And your fly’s open.
Me: (slowly) Yes.

If something did happen to me, someone’d find that I’m 20% peanut butter (by weight, not volume). The remainder being rum.

Did y’have a nice Turkey Day? This year was different. Paul and WM hung up their club shoes to play board games by mine. Very Waltons.

The Professor wasn’t in town but I did see Johnny. With the exception of the Devil, he’s the onea the most dangerous men I know. That says a lot. And he brought his daughter over.

Her: I like you. You’re funny.
Me: I’ll take that as a compliment. Listen, keep your dad from punching me. He scares me.
Her: He scares me too!

This 25 year-old kid named Luis Armando Pena Soltren hijacked this plane from NY to Puerto Rico on 19681124 and went to Cuba where he spent the next 40 years in working as a day labourer.

At some point, he musta thought, What the #$@# did I do with my life?

So he came back an old man and’s sitting at some jail cell knowing that he’s thrown his life away on yet another thing that had the air of truth to it, but no real truth to it.

Him: 10 Million.
Me: Just this year?
Him: Yeah. (pause) Woulda made more if it wasn’t for this economy. Gotta fly back to China in three weeks.
Me: Why dontcha just sell it all? The factories, the buildings, all of it? Y’can spend time with your family, hang out with me. Start up that school y’always say you wanna do.
Him: (shakes head)
Me: Why not? You make more money than the pope but you’re miserable. What’s the pointa all that green if y’don’t get to see your family and I’m the only person in the world y’trust?
Him: Don’t really know.

Nietzxche was right, your convictions’re dangerous things.
The choices remain the same: Change your map; Change your reality; or Keep crying.

Better work out. Next year, doubt I’ll have his daughter there to protect me.

Location: a grey, half-sofa
Mood: cheerful
Music: come with me we’ll travel to infinity
YASYCTAI: Have you considered fencing? (90 mins/2 pts)