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First, let me just say I prefer concerts where the music is loud, fast, and shows some spontaneity over the recorded version of the song. Aimee Mann's concert this evening was none of the above, but I enjoy her music and had a good time. She played a mix of old and new songs including one excellent brand-new song whose name I have forgotten.
Before we get to the main topic of today's post... Today is the last day of Columbia's fiscal year. I happen to have one vacation day left that I will lose if I don't lose. Instead of work I shall go office chair shopping, see if the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park has opened a day early, take a bike ride or otherwise enjoy the beautiful day, and finish up with Aimee Mann's concert this evening.
Now onto today's spread. Finding a book like this one, along with The Tin Drum by Gunther Grass, that I found lying on the sidewalk in the Village makes my day.
The Story of Margarine by S. F. Riepma, "one of the country's leading experts on margarine". Riepma was president of the National Association of Margarine Manufacturers (NAMM) from 1951 through at least 1970 when the book was published. Sadly, the NAMM website contains no mention of Riepma.
The book looks like a standard history of an industrial product. It sells for between $7.95 and $26.95 on bookfinder.com. I look forward to reading it!
The best part of the book so far, though, are the inscriptions. Inside the front cover it is written
April 30, 1985Peter,
Congrats! What a full circle. This book helped me in '72.
Best,
Alan
I have been honored to have you work with me.
Flip to the inside the first page and you'll see:
April 30, 1986Jack,
Passing down a tradition. The Best of Luck!
Alan
Too cold! Alan give Peter the book. Peter disses Alan, either by leaving it behind when he leaves or returning it to him. Alan, ticked at Peter, gives the same book to Jack exactly one year later with a terse, joyless inscription! Did Jack keep the book for the last eighteen years? Did he give it back to Alan?
As seen from Elizabeth St. in Manhattan:
to various locations in San Francisco. See:
Sometimes you find yourself in a place that is almost magical. The Fairbanks Museum in St. Johnsbury, Vermont was like that for me. The Fairbanks family, inventors and manufacturers of the platform scale, gave the town of St. Johnsbury a museum as well as the St. Johnsbury Athenaeum.
The Fairbanks Museum is one of the few surviving Wunderkammern, or wonder cabinet, type of museum that is filled with all sorts of curiosities. It "holds the largest and most comprehensive collection of New England fauna and flora in a museum north of Boston". There are lots of stuffed animals in the Fairbanks, along with scales, toys, archeological artifacts, clothing, textiles, rocks, shells, you name it.
All that was enjoyable but it was when I walked into one section of the museum that I felt a sense of wonder. There I saw several quilted pieces about a foot on a side. At least I thought they were quilted. Some were geometric patterns. Others commemorated historical moments, such as Lincoln signing the Emancipation Proclamation. Still, there was something bugging me about the quilts. I couldn't figure out how they were made. "Where did the quilter get all that iridescent thread a hundred years ago?" I wondered.
Then I saw the sign.
Bug Art
The "quilts" were made of insects. Thousands of insects for each quilt.
The art work, there were nine pieces, were made about a century ago by John Hampson. Hampson was born in England, came over to the States in 1860, and worked for Thomas Edison for a while. Each piece took 3-4 years to make and contains between 6,000 and 13,000 bugs. When Hampson died his daughter searched the country to find a museum that would take his art. The Fairbanks was the only museum interested. Thank you Fairbanks Museum but, please, show some of the Bug Art on your website!
Not bug art, but still charming and unique in a pre-PC sort of way:
Construction yard underneath the Manhattan side of the Williamsburg Bridge. I guess this bridge isn't considered a terrorist target.
A market on the east end of Grand St. has milk shakes. I would have tried one had I not just bought a canteloupe-ade and chocolate doughnut from the Doughnut Plant up the street.
I went to see Cat Power perform at the East River Park Amphitheater. There's a lot of noise at the amphitheater. The FDR Drive is real close and the electricity at the ampitheater is supplied by a gas-powered generator right behind the stage. If you are going to play here play loud. Cat Power is a quiet singer and was pretty much drowned out by the other noise. After a few songs I left to walk around the park and take in the coneflowers.
Highlights of the Union Square Greenmarket this morning. That's only a small portion of the peas. A ten foot long table was piled high with them. I bought non-green items: sweet cherries and sea scallops.
Looking south toward the MetLife (nee PanAm) building from the 125th St. Metro-North station.
As I was saying, I wanted to take more photos of the Corn Exchange Building when I heard a voice from above. The voice said "Sir, you need a permit from the Metro-North police to take photographs." Whether or not that is true is not clear, but it was a beautiful Sunday morning and I didn't want to hassle with the Metro-North police to find out.
While out for a walk on Sunday morning I happened upon this old building, the former Corn Exchange Bank at 125th St and Park Ave. An odd name for a bank in Harlem. Last fall Rachelle found a different branch of the bank downtown and has thoughtfully already researched the history of the bank. I couldn't help but do a little research of my own. As it turns out, this particular branch played a tiny, but crucial, role in one of the most notorious crimes of the last century --the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.
The toddler son of Charles Lindbergh and Anne Morrow Lindbergh was kidnapped from their home in New Jersey on March 1, 1932. A series of ransom notes were received by the Lindberghs or their representative. Money was paid, but the baby was found dead just a few miles from the house. No suspects were apprehended. More than two years later, $10 and $20 gold certificate bills were found in Harlem and Yorkville. On September 18, 1934 a teller at the Corn Exchange Bank. The Corn Exchange Bank above. The certificate was traced to a gas station at 127th and Lexington. The gas station attendent, being suspicious of the gold certificate, wrote down the license plate number of the car driven by the gas purchaser. That car was owned by Bruno Richard Hauptmann. Hauptmann was subsequently tried, convicted, and electrocuted.
Even more trivially, a young Burt Lancaster once found a twenty dollar bill outside the bank.
The building was originally the Mount Morris Bank and Safety Deposit Vaults and was designed by Charles Alonzo Rich in 1883. Here is a pre-1913 sketch of the building. In 1913 the Mound Morris Bank became part of the Corn Exchange Bank. The bank has been vacant since the late 1970s. The building is on the National Register of Historic Places.
The building is scheduled to be renovated. A high-rise Courtyard Marriott hotel is going to be built across 125th St next year.
Sorry about the overexposed quality of the top picture. I wanted to take more photos, especially of the building's details, but a voice started calling me from above...
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