Laboriousness Day

Summer’s labor is over, dear readers! Now it’s vacation-time!

Amy & I are heading up to Toronto for a few days to visit friends and family, do some fine dining, and see the sights! We promise to take plenty of pix.

Unfortunately, I can’t convince her that we should follow Michael Cook’s footsteps and make a side-trip through the city’s drainage infrastructure.

Have a great holiday!

Best Possible News

There is no better way to start the week than to find out that R. Kelly is about release the second installment of Trapped in the Closet! The NYPost kindly provides a tongue-in-cheek synopsis of the first part!

Amy & I caught part of the first run on TV, and a friend kindly bought us the DVD of the whole TWELVE episode “cycle.” We’ve held off on watching it, for reasons that aren’t entirely clear. But now that we’re up to TWENTY-TWO episodes? Time for a party!

Otto… parts?

(Oh, just go to the slideshow.)

I took the day off yesterday, so you know what that means, dear readers! Yup: I hustled around in traffic, walked all over the place, and sweated like Patrick Ewing! (I swear: I’m taking tomorrow off and have no plans on leaving the house. I might go all John & Yoko and not even get outta bed.)

I’d have written about it sooner, but I stupidly checked my work e-mail last night instead of waiting till this morning. I discovered that one of the eight speakers at our conference (7 weeks from tomorrow) has to cancel, which means I need to scramble to find a replacement. And, being a neurotic, I began to fear that every single speaker who hasn’t sent back his or her confirmation letter is going to cancel.

Which is to say, it should’ve been a Xanax night, but I stupidly decided to play it straight. So, I woke up at 4am this morning and began formulating backup plans. This should explain some of the following disjointedness.

Anyway, I spent yesterday in NYC and, while it wasn’t very humid, the 90-degree temps really sapped me. I probably started out on the wrong foot by heading over to the Strand Bookstore, which never has good air circulation. Roaming downstairs to look through review copies and the philosophy section, I thought I was going to pass out. Fortunately, I stayed conscious long enough to snap this pic:

it sure does

I’m lying about starting out at the Strand. I actually started at a parking lot on 17th St. and 5th Ave., around 11am. The attendant asked when I’d be back and I said, “Around 7 or 8,” figuring I’d take my wife out for dinner after she gets out of work. He proceeded to park the car, hand me the ticket, and then say to me, “We close at 7.” I stared for a moment, then just left for the bookstore.

Since I know you’re all dying to find out exactly what I bought at the bookstore, here’s the list:

From the Strand, I walked down to Otto, a restaurant just north of Washington Square and co-owned by Mario Batali, where I planned meet official VM buddy Elayne for lunch. Elayne was in charge of a pair of kids — early teenagers, I guess — who came down to NYC from Connecticut so they could see a concert at South Street Seaport by Korn. Elayne asked if I knew them. “Not really,” I said. “I think they did a cover of Word Up! by Cameo. And they spell their name with a K.”

“That would explain why I couldn’t find them online.”

On to lunch. It’s one of Elayne’s favorite places to eat. The menu had an amazing array of pizzas, and I felt bad about settling for the Quattro Formaggi, but I’m a boring man. With a camera:

They say quattro, they mean quattro

Elayne was more daring, ordering a pizza with potatoes and anchovies. At one point, she left for a smoke break, asking me to entertain the kids with a story about the time Dad handed me a shotgun “in case anything happens” during a business deal he was making.

When she returned, she said, “Mario Batali’s here! He’s in the other room and he’ll take a picture with the kids!” So the four of us got up and hurried to the front of the restaurant, even though the kids had no idea who Mario Batali is. We tried explaining the celebrity chef phenomenon, but they didn’t seem to know much beyond Rachael Ray. I, meanwhile, was holding out hope that Anthony Bourdain would be on hand, too.

Elayne made quick introductions, and I snapped a pic of Mario with the boys:

The camera does not add 10 lbs. in this case.

I wanted to take a second one, just to show that he really does walk around in bright orange Crocs, but thought it’d be rude.

Back at the table, I said to the kids, “You guys don’t like REM, right?” They made faces and shook their heads. I mentioned that Batali’s good friends with Michael Stipe, and they laughed.

Elayne proceeded to tell the story of her very first NYC celebrity sighting: Carrot Top. “Pre-steroids?” I asked.

There’s not much more to tell about the day. I meandered with Elayne & the kids for a bit, then headed out to my wife’s office. It was good to finally see it, since I find it so difficult to visualize other people’s spaces. Now that I have some idea of what her workplace is like, I think I’ll find it easier to send goofy e-mails and IMs.

Anyway, I headed back into the city till her workday ended. Having left my books at her office, I needed to pick up something else to read for a bit. I stopped in at Shakespeare & Co. on 23rd St., only to find that the main floor is gutted and there’s just a small store downstairs while renovations are done. I picked up a copy of Winter’s Tale (30% off everything in the store), read/sidewalk-gawked in an Au Bon Pain near Union Square, and then headed back to her office.

As it turned out, we were both too stuffed from our lunches to want any dinner, so the parking lot situation worked out. We grabbed the car, made a surprisingly quick dash to the Lincoln Tunnel, and got home with plenty of time for me to worry about the conference!

(The photoset has a bunch more pictures that I didn’t post.)

More with the getaway!

Time for another day off, dear readers! Although I have tons of vacation time remaining (14 more days, by official count), I can’t realistically take much time off till November (except for our mini-vacation around Labor Day weekend), because I self-centeredly believe the world will grind to a halt if I’m not in the office.

So I’ll take today and Thursday off before guilting myself into lots of office-time! Thursday will likely consist of yardwork, once I figure out how best to trim forsythia. There probably won’t be any chainsaw pix.

Today’s “vacation” will involve a drive into the busiest city in the world, as I roll into NYC to see friends, shop for books, comics and records, and take pix of whatever neighborhoods I visit.

Which means yet another slideshow. Put up with it.

Cleveland Rocks

The Cleveland slideshow — goofy captions and all — is up at flickr, dear reader! Enjoy!

It was a hurried trip, landing at noon on Friday and departing at noon on Saturday. But I got to sample a little of the nightlife and took a ton of pix in the morning. The city is trying to rejuvenate its downtown area, but I don’t know what factors are at play in determining its success. When my hostess mentioned “University Drive,” it struck me that I couldn’t think of any universities in Cleveland. There’s an arts scene, but I’m not sure how that gets sustained without college kids everywhere.

Anyway, there were, of course, weird moments:

  • The woman across the aisle on the flight to Cleveland trying to hit on me despite my lack of interest, my wedding ring, and my oversized Bose noise-canceling headphones. It was the latter that really should’ve dissuaded her.
  • The van that passed me on 480 W, in which the driver brandished a crude cross at me; he did the same thing with the next car he passed, so he was either trying to convert us or he was afraid that there was a plague of daywalkers.
  • The 18-wheeler beside me that had to brake suddenly, filling my car with the smell of burnt rubber as it fishtailed and nearly smacked my rental into another lane of traffic.
  • The number of youngish women who wore evening gowns to the hipster restaurant where my host & I went for dinner.
  • And finally, an example of missingthepoint.com: a brand-new Ford Expedition sporting the bumper sticker, “Don’t let the car fool you, my treasure is in heaven.”

In all, I had a good time, but my sleep has been so erratic lately that I’ve been running on coffee and experiencing tension headaches that feel like my occipital lobe is trying to escape my skull.

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Sprawl for Some

I don’t recall why I never finished reading Robert Bruegmann’s Sprawl: A Compact History. Presumably this was because of the standard reason I don’t always finish non-fiction books: I picked up some novel that caught my interest and never looked back. That doesn’t mean that I won’t get around to finishing the book, but my readings are all over the darned place right now. I’m reading annual reports this month, but that’s the job.

Anyway, here’s an article by Prof. Bruegmann about the virtues and decline of sprawl:

But let’s assume for a moment that I’m entirely wrong and that sprawl is terrible. Could we stop it if we wanted to?

The record is not encouraging. The longest-running and best-known experiment was the one undertaken by Britain starting right after World War II. At that time, the British government gave unprecedented powers to planners to remake cities and took the draconian step of nationalizing all development rights to assure that these plans could be implemented. The famous 1944 Greater London plan, for example, envisioned a city bounded by a greenbelt. If there happened to be any excess population that couldn’t be accommodated within the greenbelt, it was supposed to be accommodated in small, self-contained garden cities beyond the belt.

Did the plan work? In one sense it did: The greenbelt is still there, and some people consider that an aesthetic triumph. But the plan certainly did not stop sprawl. As usual, the planners were not able to predict the future with any accuracy. The population grew, household size declined and affluence rose faster than predicted. Development jumped right over the greenbelt–and not into discreet garden cities, because this policy was soon abandoned.

The ultimate result was that much of southeastern England has been urbanized. Moreover, because of the greenbelt, many car trips are longer than they would have been otherwise, contributing to the worst traffic congestion in Europe.

I’m gonna get back to AstraZeneca’s annual shareholder letter now.