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You tell me

May 13, 2003 /

Interesting pair of items in the New York Times yesterday.

1. The TV industry is wondering if the sitcom is a dying genre. “A burial plot is being readied for the traditional sitcomâwith the formula of setup, joke, setup, jokeâthat families watched together in large numbers throughout most of television’s history. Despite dozens of attempts, the networks have failed to come up with a new hit comedy since the late 1990’s.”

2. NBC’s fall 2003 lineup includes “Whoopi,” a show starring Whoopi Goldberg as “a one-hit-wonder singer who now runs a small New York hotel. Her attempt at hilarity will be aided by a television brother who dates a white woman trying to act black, and an Iraqi concierge who makes a lot of references to weapons of mass destruction.”

Never mind that it’s Monday, part II

May 12, 2003 /

I like these Friday Fives, even if I do answer them tardily. This week is all about organization, a subject about which I know plenty, even though the fiancee would likely beg to differ.

1. Would you consider yourself an organized person? Why or why not?

I am organized but cluttered. Life for me gravitates into piles: a pile of to-do items, a pile of things to put away, a pile of CDs I listened to and haven’t refiled, I pile of receipts I haven’t deigned worthy of the trash yet. Within that clutter, I usually know where my things are.

2. Do you keep some type of planner, organizer, calendar, etc. with you, and do you use it regularly?

I do. Palm Pilot, Schmalm Pilot: I have a Charing Cross weekly planner, in leather and paper and gold foil, filled with black-ink-handwritten notes. It looks like this. I carry it in my back pocket and buy two each year, because the spine tends to wear out after six months of sitting on it.

3. Would you say that your desk is organized right now?

Um … not really, no.

4. Do you alphabetize CDs, books, and DVDs, or does it not matter?

I used to alphabetize, but quantity outstripped utility after a while–putting a new Beta Band CD into the B’s would mean pushing 800 CDs one notch to the right. My CDs are arranged in roughly two dozen self-designed genres. I have labeled dividers waiting to be installed, too. The books in the house are similarly arranged, not for any good reason but because it made sense; the DVD/video collection is too small to require any sorting.

5. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to organize?

People.

On being engaged

May 12, 2003 /

My fiancee and I love being engaged. I loved buying a ring and proposing in a romantic vacation setting. She loves the ring and the weekend was fantastic. We’re looking forward to our fancy-pants wedding, too. We are enjoying the planning and the anticipation that goes with it, even amongst the assorted stresses. We love our band, we dig our photographer, we like the idea of gussying up and throwing a big fucking party for everyone we know; we even like the rehearsal dinner we have planned for the night before.

In certain corners of the progressive-minded Web communities in which I participate, I am a traditional bore, I suppose. But I’m a happy one with a happy mate. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

(cross-posted from another site)

Fun with typos

May 7, 2003 /

Netwer.com.

Buy these books

May 5, 2003 /

Mac OS X: Missing Manual

Word for Mac OS X

To make the most out of it for your host, go to one, add it to your shopping cart, come back to this page, and go to the other one.

Never mind that it’s Monday

May 5, 2003 /

I have just restumbled upon Friday Five, wherein random webloggers and online self-publishing folk such as this author answer five questions published by Friday Five Dot Org. Disregarding the fact that today is Monday, a dearth of content produced locally, and a music theme in the latest edition, compels yours truly to tackle the five questions herein.

1. Name one song you hate to admit you like.

I’m pretty open with my musical tastes, including most guilty pleasures. I am, after all, a lifelong Kiss fan. But I must confess to enjoying, quietly and consistently, all the big Richard Marx hits.

2. Name two songs that always make you cry.

Music doesn’t make me cry. It does, however, make me swoon. Songs that get me include “Moby Octopad,” by Yo La Tengo, and, once upon a time, “Black Velvet,” by Alannah Myles (at least, it did, before it got played and cliched).

3. Name three songs that turn you on.

In lieu of particular songs, I will give you, dear reader, the one fuck-while-listening-to-this CD you ever need to own, given that you already know to stock your shelves with good jazz and Marvin Gaye to set the mood beforehand:

No Protection, Massive Attack v. Mad Professor

You can thank me later. It’s also quite good on its own.

4. Name four songs that always make you feel good.

So so many. A few zingers off the top of my head:

~ “Sweetness and Love,” Odds

~ “Where’s Summer B,” Ben Folds Five

~ “Riding on the Back,” Francis Dunnery

~ “Cult of Personality,” Living Colour

5. Name five songs you couldn’t ever do without.

Once upon a time I compiled a list of 33 1/3 albums and 78 songs I considered essential to my collection. Here are five of those songs, best as I can remember (someday I’ll recompile and publish the big sheet). Some of the artists and songs listed aboveâno, not Richard Marxâare among my 78.

~ “Movin’,” Supergrass

~ “The Jam,” Larry Graham Band

~ “Parasite,” Kiss

~ “Time Capsule,” Matthew Sweet

~ “A Love Supreme,” John Coltrane

There are so many more that the shortlist pains me. But it’s a start.

Restaurant facts

April 30, 2003 /

Sanford Levine, owner of the Carnegie Deli in New York City, calls himself an M.B.D.—”Married the boss’s daughter.”

The Carnegie, the quintessential Jewish delicatessen, smokes its own meat at a 22,000-square-foot facility in Carlstadt, New Jersey. The work was once done in the restaurant’s basement.

Joe’s Stone Crab in Miami, Florida, is the third-highest-grossing restaurant in the United States. And it’s not even open in the summertime. The first? Tavern on the Green in Manhattan’s Central Park.

Perhaps the best deal in Manhattan, Gray’s Papaya on Sixth Avenue has a “Recession Special” of two hot dogs and a glass of papaya juice for $1.95. The cost of a single prix fixe meal at Alain Ducasse on Central Park South (the city’s most expensive restaurant) would buy 164 Recession Special hot dogs at Gray’s.

Dog story

April 28, 2003 /

Florida holiday trip two weekends ago. My two-and-a-half-year-old nephew-to-be, Noah, is on the patio wanting to go inside. My dog, Charley, is standing next to him, waiting for the door to open.

Noah is too small to open a sliding glass door by himself, so he appeals for help.

“Charley! Open!”

Charley looks up at Noah expectantly: open the door, human. Noah looks expectantly back at the dog, then repeats: “Open! Charley, open!”

Grandma let them both in the house after she stopped laughing.

In the elevator

April 28, 2003 /

I step into the elevator this morning. A boy, around 8 and playing with a ball on a stretchy string, is complaining to his father, in his business suit and carrying dry cleaning plus spare clothes for his son.

SON: Mom—ma—muh—m—mommy is mad at me.

FATHER: She’s not mad. We just get exasperated sometimes.

On the eleventh hole

April 21, 2003 /

Scene: Father and son, age 10, playing golf. The father is increasingly frustrated with his game; the son is running around and having fun.

Father hits another bad shot, rolling his ball 45 degrees to the left.

FATHER: Nice. Real nice.

SON: Dad, why do you keep complimenting yourself when you hit?

Later that same hole, after the father has given into the golf gods and picked up his ball, the son decides to try a Happy Gilmore-style running swing.

FATHER: Come on, play the hole like you know how.

SON (muttering): At least I finish the hole.

Me, I parred the hole.

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