1 minute in Central Park

Why have a park and a phone and a stupid hipster photo app if you can't use them to capture moments of great import? HMMMMM????????

1 minute in Central Park

What I like best is the way it looks like SarahB and Esther are looping in dialogue for the boaters. Jesus Christ, we saw some dummies out there. Free tip to prospective rowers: the bow goes first.

Fun with Viv and Larry

I’ll bet you’d want these two on your team for Elizabethan charades and whatnot. If I were running game night, I would assign them to bring the margarita machine and the caramel corn, and maybe some funny hats.

Sidenote: I once worked with a woman who shouted out “Shakespeare!” as an answer to “Name 10 American writers” during a lunchtime game of Scattergories (I think it was Scattergories). Needless to say: friendship cancelled, effective immediately.

This morning in New York

First I walked through the park...

...and then I read the paper.

Swell day to be a New Yorker.

I cannot deny a person, a human being, a taxpayer, a worker, the people of my district and across this state, the State of New York, and those people who make this the great state that it is, the same rights that I have with my wife.

State Senator Mark Grisanti (R)

You get to the point where you evolve in your life where everything isn't black and white, good and bad, and you try to do the right thing. You might not like that. You might be very cynical about that. Well, fuck it, I'm trying to do the right thing.

State Senator Roy McDonald (R)

Vegetable Love

Feel a tomato, heft its weight in your palm,
think of buttocks, breasts, this plump pulp.
And carrots, mud clinging to the root,
gold mined from the earth's tight purse.
And asparagus, that push their heads up,
rise to meet the returning sun,
and zucchini, green torpedoes
lurking in the Sargasso depths
of their raspy stalks and scratchy leaves.
And peppers, thick walls of cool jade, a green hush.
Secret caves. Sanctuary.
And beets, the dark blood of the earth.
And all the lettuces: bibb, flame, oak leaf, butter-
crunch, black-seeded Simpson, chicory, cos.
Elizabethan ruffs, crisp verbiage.
And spinach, the dark green
of northern forests, savoyed, ruffled,
hidden folds and clefts.
And basil, sweet basil, nuzzled
by fumbling bees drunk on the sun.
And cucumbers, crisp, cool white ice
in the heart of August, month of fire.
And peas in their delicate slippers,
little green boats, a string of beads,
repeating, repeating.
And sunflowers, nodding at night,
then rising to shout hallelujah! at noon.

All over the garden, the whisper of leaves
passing secrets and gossip, making assignations.
All of the vegetables bask in the sun,
languorous as lizards.
Quick, before the frost puts out
its green light, praise these vegetables,
earth's voluptuaries,
praise what comes from the dirt. 

"Vegetable Love" by Barbara Crooker

Gatlinburg Pt 3: Cades Cove

Gatlinburg Pt 2: Grandma on the zipline

Out of all our nonstop activities (including eating and drinking), this was my favorite, although I considered pulling a hamstring when we got to the top of the hill. But if my 75-year-old-with-a-hip-replacement mother was up for it, what the hell was my excuse? It was very, very high? Baloney. Let 'er rip, as we say on the line.

Gatlinburg Pt 1: Smoky Mountain High

Spent the week with (part of) my family in Gatlinburg. I see why people love Tennessee. It's crazy with the hills and the foliage and the moonshine.