what about the plastic animals?

The Colossus of New York and Jimi Hendrix

I recently finished reading The Colossus of New York by Colson Whitehead. Although the writing style is completely different Colossus captures the essence of New York much like E. B. White's Here is New York did more than fifty years ago. Colossus is a collection of thirteen essays in which Whitehead evokes various aspects of the city. The book takes a bit of work to read, he often switches point-of-view from paragraph to paragraph, but is well worth the effort.

I especially liked this bit from the last essay called JFK:

It’s time to go.

Everything’s packed. ..The time passed so quickly. Take a moment to look back and regret all the things you didn’t get to do, the places you didn’t get to visit. What you did not see. Promise yourself, Maybe next time.

Assuming it will still be here when you finally return.

Sometimes things disappear.

...Please forget. Try to forget bit by bit, it will be easier on you. Leave it behind. Then the plane tilts in its escape and over the gray wing the city explodes into view with all its miles and spires and inscrutable hustle and as you try to comprehend this sight you realize that you were never really there at all.

The Jimi Hendrix gallery was one of the few highlights of the dreadful Experience Music Project in Seattle. I'm not the greatest Hendrix fan, don't own an album, but I appreciate his great guitar playing. I didn't realize until I was at the museum how much Hendrix was part of the Greenwich Village scene in the 1960s. He built the Electric Lady studios on 8th Street but died soon after the studio opened.

Curious about Hendrix's life in New York, I did a bit of research. Yesterday morning, coincidentally enough, I found out that when life got crazy for Hendrix, and it would often get crazy, he would hide out at his friend Mike Quashie's apartment, which is in this building:

Quashie and Hendrix became friends when Hendrix first moved to New York. Quashie still lives in the building and was known as the Limbo King; he popularized the Limbo dance craze in the early 1960s. Quashie's flamboyant style is also credited with being the inspiration for glam rock. The Hendrix song, "Voodoo Child" was written with Quashie in mind.

That Hendrix hid from groupies on Bedford St. is a trivial piece of pop-culture history. Yet, I wonder how many people who have lived in the building know this story?

New York's greatness as a city has always lied in trade. Trade in goods, trade in money, and most of all trade in ideas. People move here and bring their ideas to the city. When they leave they take a little bit of the city with them. New York's wonder is that it is unknowable. As Colson Whitehead wrote above, the city is constantly changing. Just when you think you understand the city it throws you a curve. Go away for a while and a new city takes its place.

Good luck, Rachelle!

East Village Art Car

A big old Cadillac with Vermont plates with several layers of hand-painting.

Welcoming all admirers with open arms.

The guy on the right was not glued to the car. He was pretty excited by the whole thing, but the way he made sure I saw certain scenes made me wonder if he was the car's owner.

Cowboys, and astronauts, were on the right side of the trunk. Indians were on the left. Lobsters were all over.

Rooftop kangaroo.

This Cadillac was parked on First Ave. near St. Mark's Place this afternoon. You can't imagine how excited I was to see it. Hundreds of plastic animals, including lots of lobsters, and other objects are glued to the car. There was a place setting on the rear bumper.

When I lived in Saginaw I came really close once to buying an early-70s Buick Electra 225 for just this purpose.

Art Car links:

Art Cars in Cyberspace
Art Car Museum
Art Car Fest
Art Cars at the American Visionary Art Museum (It has been a couple of years since my last visit to AVAM. I smell a road trip to Baltimore coming on.)

Oh, the reason I was in the East Village was to buy something at See Hear. Has it moved or gone out of business? I couldn't find it where I thought it was on 7th St.

The Coolest Gift

Isn't this sweatshirt the coolest birthday gift ever? I was quite surprised to have a package waiting for me when I got home yesterday. My niece, Jan, and her kids Elizabeth, Jennifer, Alicia and Shawn did the artwork. I'm sure Jack would have helped but he's only six months old. Alicia even drew a picture of her Miss Polar Bear. But wait, there's more. Also in the package was a box of cookies! I can't describe how happy I was by this lovely surprise. Thanks, all, you're the best! And you'll just overlook the fact that I'm a week late in sending out E&J's birthday presents, won't you?

My birthday is next Wednesday. If anyone else wants to send me handmade gifts, cookies, or even just a heartfelt greeting, feel free to do so.

Table Care Advice

The glue on this table care sheet must have given up the ghost, as this was lying on the floor at the office yesterday morning. Don't drag, don't drop, always carry. Good advice for anyone who might be moving a table, or, dare I suggest, any furniture with four legs during these trying times.

Oh, I'll buy a beer for the first person who can identify what publication is in the background. Persons working in the same building as me are not eligible as you already had your chocolate babka this week and your chocolate-covered cherries last week.

When the Rubber hits the Sidewalk and Disappears

Sunday was the first day I had to myself in a couple of weeks and I knew that I would have a busy week at work coming up, that I decided to take a walk across the island. Starting at 8th and Broadway I walked nearly to the East River, turned around, and walked to 8th Ave. Not quite river-to-river but close enough.

There were many abandoned bicycles along the way. By the way, I only saw one abandoned bike in Seattle. It was a beauty that I should add to the gallery.

The bike in the photo below caused me to do a double take. The front tire is missing, The wheel is there, but the tire is gone. I didn't notice it at the time, but when I was preparing the pictures in Photoshop I saw that a couple of the tires had been slashed. Could this be what happened? Someone slashes the tires and time, the elements, and passers by remove the rubber?

Missing front tire on a Rand National (or should that be National Rand?)

Look closely and you'll see slashes in the middle tires.

For you nyc graffiti lovers, you'll notice the "neckface is ugly" tag behind the bicycles in the top picture. There are neckface graffiti all over town and I started noticing them last summer. Do a search for neckface and you'll find lots of pages devoted to his/her work.

Time for me to go home. Columbia's network has been really slow since yesterday. You don't want to know how long it took me to post the bike photos, but you do know why I've been double-posting comments nearly everywhere. All that is to say, I may not post anything new until the network traffic eases.

More abandoned bicycle photos.

Life is Good

This past week had many moments to reminded me of the random and precious nature of life. I saw an outpouring of kindness, love, and selflessness in the face of a dear person's serious illness. I also witnessed a small offer of generosity mysteriously rejected by silence. Life is short. We need to treat each other well. My treat to you is this crocus, the first flower of the season, seen in Seattle last week. Winter is nearly over. Life is good and things are looking up.

A Journey to Archie McPhee

I managed to get out of downtown Seattle once during my recent trip. First, I walked up to Seattle Center, and wasted about an hour at the thoroughly disappointing, and way overpriced, Experience Music Project. I felt so ripped-off that I refused to take photos of the Frank Gehry designed building. Knowing what would cheer me up I got on an articulated bus and rode up to Ballard.

Ballard is the home of Archie McPhee. All my bad feelings about the EMP disappeared as I approached McPhee's building and saw the plastic flamingos in the trees. It was like finding a second home.

The Archie McPhee store, NW Market Street, Ballard.

What I bought.

Filling a backpack.

Some of the animals.

This nearly wraps up my pictures from Seattle. I've got a couple of odds and ends still to post, but it was a brisk, beautiful Sunday in New York and I saw lots of abandoned bikes this afternoon.

The Case of the Murderous Missionary

Last night Michelle and Greg hosted a murder mystery party to celebrate Greg's birthday. The murder mystery is a role playing game set in 1930s China. I was amusingly miscast as an american missionary. Luckily, I turned out to be the murderer! The game was a lot of fun. Between rounds we had appetizers, dinner, dessert, and drinks. Here are the suspicious characters:

The victim's housekeeper who has revolutionary plans; a shady Chinese gangster who had much to gain from the victim's demise; this wife of a British diplomat works at the French consulate, is she a spy?

My lovely and exotic Indian wife; a imperious Japanese actress who thought much of herself.

A shady Australian businessman and gangster.

Wow, look at the glow on that cake! Happy Birthday, Greg!

Fire!

Smoke was in the air when I walked out of my apartment this afternoon to get a haircut. I didn't think much of it because I didn't see any fire or smoke, nor did I hear any sirens. After the haircut I took the 1 train to 110th Street to get some bagels. That's when I saw this scene:

where Broadway, West End Ave, and 106th Street intersect at Straus Park. It looked like the top two floors of the building were gutted.

Oddly enough, that is the third fire I've seen in the last ten days. I saw this fire above a theater a block away from my hotel in Seattle:

The fire was caused by sunlight passing through a magnifying glass in a storeroom. The focused beam set some cardboard boxes on fire.

The next night, there was a fire in a restaurant across the street from my hotel (sorry, no pictures).

In Seattle they closed the streets off to traffic to fight the fire. In New York, cars were stilll running down Broadway. There were also about three times as many firefighting vehicles in New York.

Pike Place Market

Pike Place Market, seven a.m.

I bought some excellent Mt. Rainier Fireweed honey at the market.

These scallops were about as fresh as they can get. Note the Dungeness Crabs in the background.

Downtown Seattle is very quiet to a New Yorker, even one who lives in a relatively quiet part of Manhattan. One lively spot is the Pike Place Market. The market was a five-block walk from my hotel, and I went there nearly every day. I bought fresh fruit, chocolate-covered cherries, and honey. I didn't get any fish, but they looked amazingly fresh. I also had breakfast nearly every day at the Soundview Cafe after an awful meal at the hotel restaurant (hints to Red Lion: rancid OJ is not "fresh squeezed," melons aren't "fresh seasonal fruits" in mid-February, and, please, don't play Kenny G at an ear-splitting volume, or any volume, at 7 a.m.).

And, I forgot to say this yesterday, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNIFER AND ELIZABETH!!!