Here it is. A new blog post. It has been so long that I am sure many people thought Colossal Waste was done. Well... it's not. It's just I haven't gotten over an entirely self-imposed stigma that blogging when I'm not travelling is, well, lame-ish at best.
And to be honest, I wasn't sure if I should add a NYC trip to The Waste. My unscientific count puts this at maybe my 17th visit to New York. It all began when my first film played in a teeny, unimportant film festival here in 1998. (Stories related to that may or may not follow later.) Between Toy Fair and my wife's insatiable need to spend time here, New York City is officially the place I have slept the most nights outside California. Wait... Vegas? Can I have really spent more time in New York than Vegas? Probably not.
The point is that when we visit New York we generally act exactly like locals. Dinners, bars, whatever. No sight seeing. No tourist spots. We literally just meet up with friends and eat food with them, all the while hiding out giddiness on the subway. Because no matter what, riding the subway ANYWHERE in the world makes a Los Angeleno giddy.
Actually, that was not the point. I should not have started that paragraph with, "The point is..." The point actually is that I wasn't sure I should bother with Colossal Waste in NYC, because we're likely to not do anything out of the ordinary. Then the Wife reminds me that people generally care most about the food pics, and this trip is going to be a series of potentially great meals.
So here we go. All those wasted letters boil down to this: I am going to blog our long weekend in NYC as if we were in Europe. Even if it blows my cover as a non-local.
Taking a cab in Los Angeles is always surreal. Our driver was an older, mildly unstable gentleman with his arm in a sling. But when you call for a cab it's not like you can look at the guy and say, "You know, we're really into being driven around by someone who at least has the option to put two hands on the wheel."
FACT: Exiting a cab invariably looks like emerging from a small, dark cave. There is no way to not look this way. (Note: Wife's new haircut is looking schweet.)
Los Angeles International Airport. I cannot name my favorite airport off the top of my head, but I promise you that LAX is nowhere near my least favorite. If you hate LAX, you haven't traveled enough to realize there's a lot worse out there. (Johannesburg? I seem to recall Johannesburg has an amazing airport.)
Why take a pic at an LAX Burger King / Starbucks area? Good question.
WiFi on the plane. Mini DVR's handed out in business class. Academy Award Nominated actress five rows up. One can keep so busy on a flight nowadays that five hours goes by in a flash.
Mini DVR and Ice Cream. If I was cheesy guitar strumming songwriter that would be a cheesy song title on my next cheesy album.
JFK escalator. Remember the escalator shots from London's Underground? Same as it ever was.
I could not resist. As I took this pic, the people walking behind me whispered amongst themselves, "First time in New York." So I turned and shouted, "Seventeenth time in New York, but THIS TIME I'm taking PICTURES!" No, that did not happen.
Midtown Tunnel. How 70's sci-fi is that shot? Wait, I must mess with it...
No way around it. This is what the Midtown Tunnel looks like to aliens from other planets whose eyes evolved to only see certain wavelengths of what we call visible light.
Dream sequence tunnel... black & white & rippled.
Another shot. A better shot. Too bad I already 'shopped the other one. Much better angle here and the driver's hand is a happy accident.
When you emerge from a tunnel and see a deli, you are in Manhattan.
We arrived at our friend Denise's, met her incredibly cute and recently adopted cat Oreo, and then headed out to dinner. Denise is our gracious host this trip, which is wonderful because it saves me from simultaneously loving the five star hotel while hating the five star hotel's bill.
Denise lives in the East Village, which means we are surrounded by restaurants and bars that cater to people cooler and younger than we are. Time to walk out among them.
Redundant yet catchy. I only hope that I do not resemble the fathippo when we head home.
Barbie's pumpkin ravioli.
My turkey meatloaf with a microbrew stout in the upper right corner. fathippo.
We walked back home along Clinton (makes me think of George, not Bill) and saw a short, stocky kid shouting about 9/11 to some women up on a balcony. He had the short, stocky white kid who thinks he's tough but isn't vibe that I've honestly only seen before in Boston.
We came home and... it was time to rejoice that this is the First Trip with the Dell Mini Hackintoshed. Yes, the Dell Mini that went to over 10 countries running Windows XP is now running Mac OS X. (Snow Leopard for the nerds reading this.) Which means that the nifty built-in toy "Photo Booth" is on it. Which means I can use the Mini's webcam to click a button and then rush somewhere in the apartment while the 3 seconds counts down, hustling to pose before the picture is taken.
Below is the best of the bunch.
I know, I know. Looks like I'm changing a light bulb. It's actually interpretive dance thank you very much.
Tomorrow... ? ? ?