First? O dare I dream?

Not to put too fine a point on it, but...um...Warren Brown's an idiot. He's using the classic Straw Man technique. Nobody's complaining about people using trucks for perfectly legitimate and understandable usages (many of them commercial/industrial). What people (like me) ARE complaining about is using trucks and honking big SUVs for things like commuting to work on the beltway, when a small, efficient non-gas-guzzler would do. But that wouldn't give him a column.

Joel was raised in a cab? Cool.

I was reminded by the garbage dump runs of one of the best Seinfeld episodes - when Kramer finds the old Merv Griffin set.

This has to be the most entertaining and slyly effective "in ya' face" I have ever read.

Warren Brown owns a Mini Cooper, IIRC.

Great memories, Joel.

Warren Brown needs to own a car?

Absolutely the classiest "stick it" ever. Loved it.

Does Joel still drive the Accord with the extravagant six-cylinder engine?

Does Joel still drive the Accord with the extravagant six-cylinder engine?

What I recently posted is not an error. It's in stereo.

No Warren-bashing, please. His columns are great. He knows a lot more about what Detroit is doing than I ever will. I was a little confused by his column but my impression is that he felt I didn't give Detroit a fair shake in my Outlook article. I saw my piece as mostly about consumers, and how we like to drive big fast cars, and how we're not likely to make a mass migration toward golf carts. Which he has documented in his columns many times.

You're right, Joel, especially considering that we (US consumers) typically frame the issue as "gas is too expensive" rather than "we use too much gas."

Hey bc
I loved your piece about 500 minutes of live racing. Did you ever recover from that? Nice work my friend.

Yes, Joel still drives said vehicle.

Gosh, I hated that Warren Brown article when I read it, but now I'm so glad for it because it has unleashed this torrent of patented hard-scrabble childhood memories, the kind Joel thinks we might get tired of but I'm pretty sure we never will.

There was an article in the Gainesville paper when we passed through about how great the scavenging scene is at the end of every semester when the students have to vacate their housing situations.

Our own college student is an accomplished dumpster-diver. All good art students are. One of her stories about her first year away at school included the image of her standing in a dumpster hauling out lumber which she was determined to transport back to campus via bicycle. Someone driving by stopped, watched her for a while and then asked, "Do you need help?" in a tone of voice that could either have meant, "Would you like assistance moving that wood?" or "Should I call a psychiatrist?"

I believe in recycling, too, of course. Husband and daughter love trash more than I--they can practically get whiplash if we drive by a pile of stuff on the side of the road. But I keep my eye on what our (apparently more high-class) neighbors across the street leave out for collection. Over the past two years they have contributed lampshades, bookcases, and a nice bench for our front yard. What could be more convenient!

To stay on topic here, because everyone knows that's important, we can drive whatever we want to RFK stadium, but which night works for you?

[reposting from previous boodle]

BOTH GAMES BEGIN AT 7:05 PM...

Sat., June 2, 7 pm - San Diego Padres

or

Sat., June 23, 7 pm - Cleveland Indians

The plan is to meet there and purchase (cheap) tickets together.

Thanks!

Posted by: TBG | May 29, 2007 10:06 AM

Basically Warren says that the Denali is conspicuous consumption in the purest Thorstein Veblen meaning of the word. What he describes doesn't sound like the typical drywall contractor's work vehicle to me. To wit:

"The interior is maximum luxury -- comfortable seating for up to six adults, leather covered-seats, wood-veneer accents, premium audio/video entertainment system, and enough electrical outlets and portals to handle laptops, wireless fax machines and MP3 players."

Not sure how this differs from a rapper's fully tricked out Escalade, except that you can put a 4x8 sheet of plywood in the back.

When I was thirteen I used to ride my bike over to the city dump and scrounge around. I had recently become obsessed with obtaining a high-quality prism, and I had heard that discarded binoculars where the place to find one. Although I never located any binoculars, I did discover an amazing variety of interesting paraphernalia. I found these frighteningly-powerful speaker magnets, about a billion nifty little plastic boxes, and a nearly complete spool of copper wire. I also once encountered these magazines of an exotic nature of which I shall not speak.

Now as a grown-up type person, I can see that digging through a dump was a reasonably stupid thing for a kid to be doing. Goodness knows I would hate to think of my own offspring doing this. If either of them had a hankering from some optical-grade prisms, I would much prefer to simply order them over the internet. This would be far better than poking through revolting refuse.

At least I think it's better.

This reminds me of my daughter. She literally came from the womb as a pack rat and we had many struggles through the years as I tried to encourage her to let a few things go...not her treasures, mind you...just a few things. I'll never forget the day in 3rd grade when she came bounding out of school with an simultaneously accusatory and triumphal look and tone and said, " 'MOM, do you know what Mrs. D. said? SHE said, One man's trash is another man's treasure!' "
My goose was cooked.

RD.. clever handle disguising.

Good morning, friends. The dumpster. Stuff put out for trash. As children we used to go to the dump and pick out stuff, we loved those trips. Dragging other people's trash home. We were going to fix the stuff and use it. Ah, childhood.

As for those huge trucks, I am really afraid of them, and I used to drive a school bus. I just don't like them. Perhaps because I drive a small car.

The g-girl is still here, but her mother is back at work. She should arrive soon. She spent the night with an aunt. I feel tired just thinking about her return. Busy, busy.

It is a beautiful day here, I hope you have the same where you are.

God loves us so much more than we can imagine through Him that died for all, Jesus Christ. Peace.

Me, I'm saving up for a Prius (maybe next year's purchase -- this year's is a new refrigerator (hoping to get more mileage on both)). I've replaced most of my incandescents with the new fluorescents and I'm feeling as smug as a bug in a rug. And, oh, just a wee bit self-righteous, too. Wanna join me on this planet -- such as it is?

TBG - that's the handle I use when I'm feeling rushed because I hear my boss approaching.

Gotta love them Google Ads:

2007 Chevy Silverado 1500
Find out our Lowest Possible Price on a new Chevrolet Silverado 1500!
www.CarPriceSecrets.com

Silverado 1500 Sale
When Car Dealers Cut Prices to Meet Quotas -- You Get Our Lowest Price!
ChevyQuote.DealersClearingLots.com

Silverado Leveling Kit
1999 - 2007 Silverado Leveling Kit 1.5 - 2.5" Torsion Keys for $229.95

When I was a kid we used to get cleaned up on a summer's eve and drive to the dump. There the cars would line up as if at a drive-in movie for folks to watch the bears come to forage. Some idiot (what we called all tourists at the time) would invariably get out of a camper and throw things like leftover pancakes to get the bears' attention and supposedly better pictures. Never did get to see a tourist mauled, but it was fun nonetheless.

I still remember sitting in the way back of a cousin's station wagon, all sunburned and mosquito bitten but freshly bathed and in PJs, speculating about which would be worse-getting attacked by bears or falling in the fish gut pit.

I love these stories. I am impressed with Joel's daughter's delicacy. I don't know who Warren Brown is. I welcome our exotically named friend Paoduck, whom I believe to be some sort of culinary treat.

We did not live near a dump so I did not get to rummage through one; of course, we didn't have city trash service either and tended to use things until they fell apart, or store them in our shop buildings. There are things in my shop that my dad put there when it was built in 1970. I don't want to know what they are. Now we have Big Junk day, where we put out large items and other folks pick them up before the city gets there. I never stop to scavenge on Big Junk day, because on many days I don't want One. Single. Solitary. Other. Thing. to come in the house. Except food.

I did get to catch snails in a sewer pipe, but that's a different story.

I believe it would be difficult to carry your gun rack or longhorns in a subway. Mounting either in or on your pickup is a whole 'nother story.

I just exercised some Boodle discretion (for once) and deleted a post.

:-)

Thanks Linda,
now I have a vision of a Prius with Texas long horns duct taped to the hood.

I have pickup envy but can't really justify it on a "need" basis so I bought a trailer. For less than a grand you can carry junk, wood, mulch and whatnot around quite efficiently. In my case I can also entertain the whole family by backing the stupid thing into place between the house and a precious flower border.

June 23

Loomis, Shreiking, cut it out. I lost a coffee on that, and people are looking at me funny.

I would the Achenbach progeny are showing a flair for wordsmithing. "but there's like two houses and a McDonald's." surely deserves a smattering of applause. Smatter, smatter, smatter.

SCC alerts

Shrieking, and 'I would say the Achenbach progeny'

Probably others in there. Or here. I should probably worry about that more.

Although my days of digging through dumps are blissfully (or is it regrettably?) past, I must admit that I do sometimes indulge in the suburban equivalent. For when I walk my dog each evening, it is not uncommon for me to see some high-quality junk. And though it is quite legal to confiscate trash once it hits the curbside, for obscure psychological reasons I still wait until cover of darkness.

I recently snagged enough surplus carpet to totally redo the rabbits' Palatial Habitat. And some weeks ago I absconded off with a perfectly respectable set of weights. (It took several trips.) But my most significant haul was not one, but two microwave ovens. For few people realize that these typically contain several motors, some kick-bootie ceramic magnets, and excitingly dangerous transformers.

Now, as my wife patiently points out, we are not destitute people. We can probably swing our own scrap carpet. But there is something so much sweeter about slinking off into the darkness on a late-night raid.

I fear that in many of us the scavenger impulse cannot be long denied.

I believe the old traditional dump scavenging and dumpster-diving of yesteryear survive today in the suburban Saturday morning yard sale epidemic/phenonemon.

Howdy all...

Shriek... all you have to remember is right = left. Except when the trailer is angeled the other way, in which case right = right. And then there's the nearly impossible task of maintaining "straight". Of course, even remembering all that, it seems those things have a mind of their own -- especially when you're in a hurry or trying to avoid a flower bed or the side of your neighbor's house.

Here's an idea to keep trucks out of the hands of people who really don't need them -- check their hands for calluses. Anyone with baby-soft hands most likely has no legitimate need for a truck or anything with more than 6 cylinders. Even if they need 4x4, there are plenty of cars and minivans with AWD, not to mention Jeeps.

And as far as I'm concerned, unless your commute goes through downtown Baghdad, Hummers (and Escalades and Navigators and the like) should simply be outlawed. They serve no purpose whatsoever except to boost the already too-large egos of their drivers and/or compensate for their drivers' "shortcomings".

Hate to rant and run, but today I'm impersonating the rabbit from "Alice in Wonderland".

Peace out...

(64)

Mudge writes:
I believe the old traditional dump scavenging and dumpster-diving of yesteryear survive today in the suburban Saturday morning yard sale epidemic/phenonemon.
***

Unfortunately, not everywhere:

Child scavenging in a dump in Guatemala:

http://photos4.flickr.com/5004958_12b5ff6458.jpg

People scavenging at the world's tallest trash heap in the Phillipines:

http://www.imagesphilippines.com/images/081204_131951.jpg

Scavenging a dump in Cambodia:

http://ramblingspoon.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/98%20DumpD.jpg

Oh, to be from Somewhere rather than Nowhere!

My in-laws will be at SeaWorld today, where their gate receipt and the cost of parking two cars will be about $500--unless they brought some sort of coupons. We'e staying home and putting the $100 it would cost the two of us to get in to the theme park to better use.

RD, it is so hard to bring in that image of you being a scavanger. I just cannot focus that. We lived not far from the dump in our small town, and we loved those trips picking up other people's trash. My mother would fuss but she basically allowed us to have that junk. We spent the day trying to make whatever item we fell in love with work.

Two houses and a McDonalds. Sounds like the beginning of a life in words and wonder, and a bit of good humor.

I am a pack rat, and my daughter complains all the time. Throw that junk away. When my son was living he used to sit the stuff out on the street.

Mudge - you are pretty much right about yard sales. And I love them too.

Loomis, it's funny that you say that about the amusement park. I was JUST downstairs in the office kitchen looking at a huge pile of coupons actually advertising $29.99 admission per person to Six Flags. "That's $20 savings off the regular price!"

The size of the pile makes me realize that anyone not using such a coupon is a chump as they must be everywhere if they're on top of the microwave in my office's kitchen. Do people really pay 50 bucks a person to torture themselves at Six Flags?

We refuse to go to "theme parks." I have taken my kids to Hershey Park, Kennywood and Breezewood, vestiges of the old trolley-car amusement parks.

Glen Echo, here in Washington, used to be such a park, built by the trolley companies at the end of the line to get people to ride the trains on the weekends. There was also one in Arlington, near Crystal City, called Luna Park. It looks magnificent, judging from the pictures, but I believe it burned down just a couple years after opening.

My kids used to beg to go to Disney World, but I've always said, "Anyone who's already seen the Mentone Egg in Indiana--and the site of the Hindenburg crash in New Jersey--has no need to go to Disney World."

Isn't it a shame when people have to sell their yards and garages? I feel so sorry for them.

Well, we didn't find the nursery but we did drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway for a while and spot a wild turkey hen with five chicks. My husband turned around so we could go back and watch them. The chicks were about the size of my fist and scrambling to keep up with their mother.

Having cleaned out my mother's condo (filled the dumpster twice) and helped with cleaning out my mother-in-law's home (that took 3 and a half years, no joke), I have no place or need for other people's discards. What I do need is to get rid of more of my own stuff.

I freely and without shame admit that I really liked Disney World. As I have said before, perhaps it is prefabricated pap, but it is extremely well-done prefabricated pap.

Besides, the most entertaining thing to me is to see my children smile.

Slyness - yeah, "Yard sale" is a silly term. But the correct one, "neighborhood black market" has never really caught on.

Glen Echo actually started out as a chatauqua--sort of a middle-brow Tanglewood affair, named after the original in far western New York state. A malaria scare shut the place down and it went belly-up. IIRC, one of the trolley companys acquired the property and turned it into the amusement park some of oldsters remember. I only went a couple of times. The malaria scare was replaced by the polio scare, and my folks didn't want me surrounded by that many possible infectious carriers. In recent years, did spend a fair amount of time at the Spanish Ballroom doing Cajun and Zyedeo (or a fair approximation thereof). One of these days, when we're in the 'Burg and not otherwise occupied, friend wife wants to re-visit Kennywood, one of the great old parks that is still hanging on.

SCC: ..some of us oldsters...
Is it 5 yet?

I also like the idea that at Disney the employees are contractually obligated to smile at you. I think of it as cheerfully controlled fascism, done very well.

Shriek I sympathize on the back-the-trailer thing. Could not get the hang of it back when I was driving the truck with horse trailer (age 17-19), complete with the complication of using mirrors. (Have I mentioned that I'm extremely spatially-challenged?) I once had three guys trying to direct me turning around to leave a horse show. Finally one of them just climbed in and did it himself. Later in life, I finally got it: If the trailer is going to the right, and you don't want it to, turn the wheel to the right.

My dad was a dumpster-diver extrodinaire. Anything that looked like it might be usable someday went into the back of the truck and came home. A few years after he passed, Mom and I were cleaning out the garage and came across some of his more noteable treasures, like scraps of plexiglas.

I travel a lot, and for that, I drive an SUV. On these trips, you can generally see Dear Child's eyes; I'm loaded to the roof. (She's doesn't mind being stuffed in there like freight, as long as I've packed a few of her things within arms reach.)

For around town, or when 9750 of the 10,000 pounds I'm hauling is guilt, I drive a beat-up old Honda Civic. Finding parking is a snap, and who in their right mind would steal it? It looks like it uses more oil than gas. It has several dents/scrapes/dings, as well as paint colors not original to the car (someone hit something white...twice. It now has symmetrical scars). We call it The Bic, because the resale value is zero, and when you're done with it, you throw it away (160,000 miles and counting).

I've been told more than once that someone in my income bracket shouldn't be caught dead in it, let alone give fellow BPH-ers a ride. I'm not sure if their talking about an old Honda Civic, or *that* old Honda Civic.

Boy, I really sounded snarky. I apologize for that and to all of you out there who love amusement parks. I don't know where my attitude came from. Maybe it was that "$20 off the regular price!" coupon. And I'm the queen of the "Take $50 off your subscription!" order card, myself.

I enjoyed Disney Land when I went there as a 20-something. I'm sure I'd also love Disney World. I just like doing other stuff better and haven't wanted to dedicate vacation time to going there.

Warren Brown and Joel Achenbach: the new Rosie O'Donnell and Elizabeth Hasselbeck?

[Funny Elizabeth Hasselbeck story. Somehow she came up in conversation with a friend, and I was trying to explain who she was because he doesn't own a TV, and is therefore stupid. It went something like this:

Me: she's pretty much famous for being married to a football quarterback.

Him: Oh! The Seattle Seahawks, right?

Me: No, the Hasselbeck that wasn't good.]

Raysdad has started to make noises about wanting a pickup truck for our country house. I haven't been able to pin him down as to the need for this vehicle, other than "to carry stuff." This is from a man who drives a (small) SUV already. Can anyone explain this?

Hey, jw, I have a TV but don't pay attention to it. Can I be stupid too? Last night some show was on. Ivansdad and the Boy said they were really tired of a particular commercial. I glanced up from my book and remarked that I'd never seen it. They told me this was the sixth time it had run that half hour.

I don't know who Elizabeth Hasselbeck is, either. I get that name confused with David Hasselhorst, or whoever that guy is, and I know who he is because he was in the Spongebob movie. I am not hip to the hyper.

May I make a suggestion about the ballgame?
Please have it on Saturday 23, that way none of us will have to deal with the DC rush hour.

Off to *Bob away my Blues* at the river and Yes I have my worms and I am sure one worm bracelet will be worn.

Actually, Elizabeth Hasselbeck was famous in her own right: as Elizabeth Filarski (before she married her college sweetheart) she was in the final four of Survivor: Australian Outback. Remember she got very close to the father-figure Roger?

Ivansmom - you actually notice when your family speaks to you when you are reading? My wife usually has to throw something.

gwe... both Nats BPH dates are Saturdays. The 23rd seems to be the best date for most people (sorry Raysmom), but we're still taking a count here.

Who else wants to chime in?

I'm with you on places such as Disneyworld TGB. I went to Disneyland as a teenager, many years ago and loved it because it was new and different. Took the kids to Disneyworld when they were little and I pretty much disliked most of it, except for the Space Mountain ride. Too commercial, too fake (duh), just too too. And now it's 100 times worse. I'd rather go somewhere real with fewer crowds.

As long as I'm being a grump, I don't get scavenging. I suppose if I saw a beautiful old piece of furniture or something I could be tempted but I dislike clutter so tend to throw things away rather than look for more stuff to possess. When "S" cleaned out his house there was a large dumpster full of true junk. The house had belonged to his parents and they kept everything, old mattresses, insulation, an old bathtub, etc. "S" has pack rat tendencies too which I am slowly curing him of, although our cellar is pretty full of heaven knows what and the stuff isn't mine. His daughter has been picking up toys and furniture on trash day and after cleaning the stuff, she has gotten some decent things for nothing. But her house is starting to have that same look of clutter that reminds me of "S"'s old attic. Ugh!

Win one for the Gipper, TBG.

Raysmom - outside of the innate testosterone surge some men associate with a pick-up, I think the other attraction is that such a vehicle creates the illusion of purpose.

When a man is seen in a pick-up the natural assumption is that said man hauls stuff around a lot. This means that the man must be into building things or doing something equally salient and significant. He must be a real workin' man, in other words, and not an office drone.

This can be a very attractive fantasy.

I love junk. I have to be careful.

After cleaning out my parents' house, though, I did refer to some of my own stuff as "the crap you kids will have to throw out when I'm dead." My daughter didn't really react too well to that statement (I say with a little bit of satisfaction).

We love to troll for junk when we're on our road trips. But Rule #1 is: Never go to yard sales or thrift shops in areas that aren't as nice as where you live.

Sorry if I offend anyone who doesn't have a TV, that comment was meant to be facetious. My friend without a TV is actually very smart.

Bad Sneakers - there is a difference between being a scavanger and being a packrat.

Being a scavanger is about the thrill of the hunt and the perverse joy of getting something for nothing. (Sort of the way some people feel about shopping.)

Being a packrat is more about a fear that anything that is tossed might end up being useful. It is a much more anxious impulse.

My townhouse complex gets a roll-off dumpster twice a year and that is when the good junk comes out. You have to be quick though. Fortunately my house is already too cluttered to take other people's relics.

In college, my roommate and I did liberate several cinder blocks from a dorm construction site so that we could build a home entertainment center.

You would be amazed at how many blocks you can fit in the truck of a Camaro without bottoming out the suspension.

FSM help me, but occasionally I feed Raysdad's scavenging impulses. Such as last Saturday morning when I asked him "Do you need a 4 x 8 sheet of chipboard?" Fortunately, the answer was no.

Point taken RD. My experiences with overwhelming piles of useless cr*p obviously blinded me to the joys of something for nothing. Now shopping is something that I DO understand.

Pick-up trucks are also great ice breakers with coworkers and neighbors. Once word gets out you have one, every weekend can be filled. A classic bumper sticker I have seen reads thus:

YES, I HAVE A PICK-UP. NO, I WON'T HELP YOU MOVE.

Back to Joel's kit. Is New York City really that exciting? I have never been there. My wife and I have been thinking about taking a trip there (without children) for our 20th Anniversary next year, but we can't decide if it would be worth the money. I mean, we are both very small town folk, with a paranoid fear of getting lost, mugged, and shot.

A sure sign of the Coming Of The Apocalyse is that we consider someone who made it to the final four of Survivor: Australian Outback to be "famous in her own right."

(Another sure sign is that I got an official-looking card in the mail that said the Apocalypse is coming and I should "IMMEDIATELY" move to higher ground.)

RD... you've GOT to visit NYC. It is amazing. You will love it. The people are incredibly friendly; you will NOT be robbed or mugged. Go in January and it's not as expensive (we usually go that last weekend when the kids have two teacher workdays off school).

It doesn't have to be an expensive venture, either. Hotels are pricey, but food and entertainment can be very cheap.

But most of all, just go. You'll do just as Joel does: gaze in wonder at the city around you. It's just wonderful.

RD, if you "are both very small town folk, with a paranoid fear of getting lost, mugged, and shot," would you settle for two out of three?

RD,
Once they see Paree...

It took us about a half dozen weekend trips to the Big Apple to check off the must-sees. Now we go back for shows, dining, and atmosphere.

NYC is not unlike DisneyWorld in that you have to go with the right attitude and know what to expect. Either place is easy to nitpick, but, while expensive, both give you your money's worth.

I used to read Warren Brown from time to time, but he's not my cup of tea. I'm a nuts-and bolts-guy who would rather talk to the engineers about why a car has a MacPherson-strut front suspension versus an SLA-type, or the relative benefits of viscous coupling/plate and spiral gear-type torque-sensing differentials.

One thing that I've noticed being in the automotive journalism game is that it's very easy to become complacent; to take the keys and the press materials and to produce adequate copy for publication on a regular basis. Many can earn a good living by simply accepting what they've been given by the car companies' media relations folks without doing much research or investigative journalism outside of their comfort zones (or cell phone contact lists).

This gives many seasoned writers to opportunities to travel to places like Spain, Italy, France, Japan, and Austrailia on the car companies' dime in order to attend some new model's launch, or some other press function that includes nice accomodations and very good food.

I typically cringe when I see an automotive journalist write a column about something pertaining to the mainstream media; I cross my fingers and hope that they person who wrote it got out of their comfort zone and thoroughly investigated the topic of their column.

Onto other topics, I've always thought of junkyards as wonderlands. Back in the day, j-yards would let people actually roam through the cars and junk and find treasures for themselves out there, price to be negotiated when you get to the counter on the way out, greasy, sweaty and tired, but triumphant.

bc

Yesterday's fancier pickups had trim and paint that usually came undone pretty quickly. Today's are almost unrecognizably better, although my ability to afford one hasn't increased at all.

Yesterday's fancier pickups had chrom trim and two-tone paint that usually came undone pretty quickly. Today's are bigger and almost unrecognizably better, although my ability to afford one hasn't increased at all.

I should add here:

New York City is great.

I love it there, and I'll go back in a minute...

bc

Looks like the comment-posting electronics had a hiccup.

Thinking of recycling entire dormitories, the University of Florida long had a number of World War II structures that had been hauled in from Camp Blanding, a major training area during the war and still the National Guard's main base.

On second thought, maybe you don't need to actually visit NYC. Just use Google Maps' new "Street View."

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=duane+st+at+reade+st+nyc+ny

Click on Street View

"Downtown NYC/
People there f*** with me"

- X, "What's Wrong With Me?"

(The song expresses similar sentiments about H'wood, B'more, N'ville and Germany.)

NYC is a wonderful city, and I would prefer to go there than almost any other city (San Francisco and Vancouver as possible exceptions). So RD, definitely go once. But if you're not really a "city" person, you may end up wishing you'd gone to the Grand Canyon instead.

RD, you should definitely see NYC sometime. Having lived there briefly (18 mo.) and commuted daily for another 9 months I now have a somewhat ambivalent feeling about going, but once you're there it's way cool.

If you drive just dump the car into a garage as soon as you're through one of the tunnels.

On the other hand if you come up I95 stop by (I'm about a 1.5 mi from the exit) and I might be persuaded to give you a guided tour in the Caddy. I'm sure the locals wouldn't mind a discreet magnum of champagne in the back seat.

Then when you see something you'd like you can hop out, go do it, and by the time traffic catches up you can just jump back in.

My mom grew up in what was then a pocket of poverty on NYC's Upper East Side, East 70th Street, which is also home to the Explorer's Club, Frick Collection, and any number of incredibly rich people.

I hadn't seen NYC in my adult life when I visited to see, among other things, the unveiling of the Christo "Gates" thing in Central Park. My mom's dingy old apartment building was miraculously still there, even if the other side of the street had been swept away. My Irish hotel near Bloomingdales was full of Irish tourists, shopping. Subway makes even London's Underground look kind of clean & cozy by comparison. Avery Fisher Hall looked like it was falling apart, but the Philharmonic put on an amazing Mahler's 7th. Rockefeller Center seemed a bit smaller than I remembered, but it's still the finest urban project in the country. And the MOMA and Met were dazzling. I don't think I'd ever been to the Museum of Modern Art, but the Metropolitan, after many years of rebuilding, had exhibit rooms perfectly attuned to the art. The rebuilding (supervised, I think, by the same architect over all those years) had obviously been a labor of love, not to mention lots of money. I did ask a guard about the squeaky floors in the Japan area. Were they intentionally like the "nightingale" floors of older Japanese temples and palaces that didn't allow anyone to come in unnoticed? No, he said, the Isamu Noguchi fountain had leaked.

NYC's become horribly overpriced, and many urban goodies are available, cheaper, in Chicago, Seattle, Philly, etc (Los Angeles, for example, has a great orchestra in an astounding concert hall). I'm certain my trip to Taipei (including air fare) cost less than going to NYC for the same number of nights. But yes, NYC's safe even compared to London and it's unique. The views up and down Lexington from around 50th street are New York-only: the avenue goes from horizon by horizon, seemingly flanked by tall buildings all the way. And so many of them are old! Manhattan was the first vertical city. It's been surpassed by Hong Kong and maybe some others, but no one else has a Chrysler Building.

I've never been crazy about NYC -- to me it shares the same arrogance about itself that Texas does. But I think you should go there at least once, Padouk, to see it. Take lots of money. Do the touristy stuff: go to a play/musical in the theater district (it'll cost ya about $100 a seat at night for the major shows; matinees are cheaper). Go to Ground Zero. Take a walk in Central Park. Look in the window at Tiffany's (for God's sakes, man, don't go in!!!) Eat in a big-name major restaurant at least one night. Walk around Greenwich Village. If the Jets and the Sharks are having a dance at the gym over on 10th Avenue, don't go. Stand in the middle of Times Square at 10:30 at night when all the theaters let out; it's amazing. Go to Rockefeller Center and watch the iceskaters. Take the ferry over to the Statue of Liberty and also Ellis Island (your grandparents might have come through there). Leave the gun; take the cannoli.

Go: do it once; life is short. It's no more dangerous than any other city if you just stay in the major safe areas. (Have a to-die-for bagel, lox and cream cheese at the Central Cafe on Pershing Square at Grand Central Station.)

Oh, yeah, go to the top of the Empire State Building.

(I know an inexpensive, no-frills hotel that is very reasonable; if you want to know about it, e-mail me offline.)

"many urban goodies are available, cheaper, in Chicago, Seattle, Philly, etc"

That may be true, but there's nothing like being in New York City. There's just something about the sights, sounds, feel, rhythm, etc.

>Walk around Greenwich Village.

Absolutely. A little cafe life. Then head down to Little Italy. Dinner al fresco on Mott or Mulberry maybe, and dessert at Ferraro's. (sp?)

I've been to NYC a few times, and not really seen the charm.
It's THE place for a lot of things as it is after all a major port city-- shopping, dining, theatre, etc. And fast walking. And it is a bastion of culture and immigration. It is an entire Silk Road within a few square miles.

Yet, too many New Yorkers have never been out of NYC (because they can't drive, I hear). That's not exactly what I call a very cosmopolitian geographic awareness.

I prefer D.C. as a tourism city. Maybe I'm sick, but I do. It's less crowded, less vertical, has more greenery. In NYC, other than in Central park, every tree seems to be fenced off in a square foot of dirt with its own Berlin Wall. I'm amazed the squirrels can even make a living in NYC. (How can they even find parking spots?)

But then again, I find Minnesota nice enough, so I probably am quite easily amused as long as the air I breathe has recently been oxygenated by something richly green, rather than overly polluted by petroleum.

*Humming a popular garden gnome ballad no doubt well known to Mudge, as I go outside and hoe some weeds.*

I prefer DC, too, Wilbrod--as well as Chicago and San Francisco oiver New York. But in a way that's all beside the point: the reason to go to New York is because it is New York. I loathed Hollywood and LA the only time I was there--but I'm glad I went, if for no other reason than to confirm everything I suspected I'd hate when I got there. (But I loved Musso & Frank's, where I had dinner, because it was Musso & Frank's.) Sometimes you go to a place because you are "supposed" to go, so you can say you've seen it: London, Paris, Rome, NYC, etc. I think Dave's point about being able to buy stuff cheaper elsewhere kind of misses the point, too. Yes, he's absoluetly correct--but you don't go to New York so you can buy XYZ product; you go because of the shopping *experience* in NY. Same thing with Rodeo Drive, or Charring Cross Road or Saville Row in London, or some street full of cheese shops and perfumeries in Paris. It's the experience, not the object. Or as they say in real estate, location, location, location. I once bought a necktie in Harrod's. Not a spectacular tie by any means. But it's my Harrod's necktie. I bought it myself in Harrod's. It wasn't about the money, or whether I could have bought it for 60% less online; sure I could. That wasn't the point.

Hey - thanks for all the info about NYC. I think we will bump it up to the top of the list for next year's matrimonial celebration.

EF - that sounds way cool. We could cruise the city and be the middle aged uber-geeks from Heck!

But what do we do with the wife?

>But what do we do with the wife?

Let her cruise DeBeers, Prada, Bergdorf's and Tiffany's.

>But what do we do with the wife?

I think Mudge has an excellent if potentially expensive solution. :-)

Actually I was thinking I could chauffeur you and the missus while you lounged in the back seat, but the two of us out on the town would be grand as well.

You have *got* to hang out in Little Italy my friend.

Yeah, everybody travels for their own reasons.. but Chicago as a good tourism spot, Mudge? I thought you got a rash whether you were more than 25 miles from the ocean?

Hmm, another tip-- RD and wife might look into a trip on the ferry-- some of my friends enjoyed that one too.

RDP;

I also heartily endorse NYC. (Of course I'm biased, I have a familial connection to the Chrysler Buidling.) Worked there for about 9 months, my brother still lives there, and I STILL have more than half the good stuff left to see!! Greenwich Village is exactly what you think it is, only better. The discount Broadway ticket booth in Times Square can be SO worth it. Go, man, go!

What, you're still here???

:-)

Let's see, where to start:

"It's fun to ride in the back of a truck for about five minutes, but then you start to get so windblown you lose roughly 1 IQ point every minute."

--If that's the case, I've lost so many I pro'ly caint even hardly speek english no more.

"but there's like two houses and a McDonald's."

--That sounds about right.

Having grown up in the rural South, I always only drove GM and Ford products. I finally gave up on the US companies 3 years ago and bought the first foreign car I'd ever owned, because I couldn't find a small American car that was well-made, reliable, and efficient.

We now own a Prius and an Explorer. The Explorer is used for field work when I need a 4X4 and I can't use a state vehicle, and for a second car when necessary. In the last year we drove the Prius about 50,000 miles, the Explorer around 5,000. As soon as we can afford one, we hope to replace the Explorer with a hybrid SUV or pickup, if a good one's available.

A few years ago, there was a woman who worked in the fiscal office at the museum. Unmarried, no children, lived in a small house in town. She would tool around town in a Ford Expedition, roughly the size of an M1 tank (and about the same gas mileage.) So big she actually needed a booster step on the running boards to get into it. Never went off-road, never hauled anything in it.

Got the review back on my latest manuscript; got to go see how bad the damage is, and try to fix it by tomorrow.

Only been to Chicago once, Wilbrod, but loved it. And it's on the water! They got a big lake 'n' everything.

Been to Arizona. No water, to speak of. Got a big crack in it, up north. Got a big crik in it, runs down one side of the state, that's about all. Lotta sand, but no lifeguard towers, no salt water taffy.
Got a rash there. Not my kinda place.

NYC is an amazing travel destination, surpassed only by Rome IMHO.

EF - What a generous offer! Let me check back with you this time next year and see if it still seems like a good idea to you. In any case, I will certainly be canvassing the boodle for more detailed info should the Mrs. and I decide to go.

Gosh, maybe the boodle really does contain all knowledge.

SofC, for a second there I thought you were referring to Rome, New York. I've actually been to that Rome. Talk about two houses and a McDonald's...

Joel: Be sure to tell your clever daughter that she has contributed an important phrase to Boodlespeak.

"Gosh, maybe the boodle really does contain all knowledge."

You had doubts?

:)

Yes, sorry, I meant the "other" Rome.

Although Rome NY does seem to have a neat old fort in addition to the now-proverbial two houses and a McDonalds:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=rome+new+york&ie=UTF8&ll=43.210431,-75.454144&spn=0.00312,0.007231&t=k&z=17&om=1

Rome NY has a lot of B-52s, too.

Son of Carl must mean Rome, Georgia.

You know... the seat of Floyd County?

Lost-I-T, re your 2:14, a Honda Civic with only 160,000 some miles on it? Practically just off the showroom floor. I'm about to hit 193,000 and see no reason to stop.

I mentioned long ago that I lived in New York for a year (1981 when things weren't so hot). Most interesting year of my life. Great destination place. My suggestion, pick a couple of obvious touristy things that give a sense of the enormity of the place, e.g., Empire State, Circle Line, walk over the Brooklyn Bridge (my favorite, start from the Brooklyn side) and then find things you particularly like that are on a smaller scale (walking Greenwich Village, Central Park, museums, Battery Park and lower Manhattan, whatever.

Come to think of it, I know of a town that really is just 2 houses, no MickeyD's.

Its called Smuts, Saskatchewan. Smuts is so small that even we prairie people miss it if we blink at the wrong time. About the only place smaller than Smuts is Leofnard Saskatchewan, which has precisely 1 house and maybe a garden shed. No garage, no workshop. It might have a dog, but they seemed more like cat people to me.

The redoubtable Ms. Achenbach has submitted a worthy phrase, just so long as she knows that if she ever really wanted to go, well umm... nowhere, she should come talk to me.

No time for the boodle today, just the Kit. Warren is not thinking. (restrain - must restrain..) My truck is full of 300 lbs of gear I must use every workday. I drive the speed limit or under, by the way. I get passed by woos bankers in their Chevys and SUVs going 68 in the city limits. A pox on them all, and Warren too. All hat, no cow, him?

Bill, I know it's a mere babe compared to other Honda Civics. But it's still seen a lot, been a lot of places, had a lot of cool passengers. Yet it's true claim to fame...it still has the original clutch.
I occassionally hear about the need to upgrade, get a new metro car, but I'm with you...why?

I'm with you, LiT & bill everything. I've an old Dodge Neon with 150,000 mi., still runs fine, looks like heck, but who cares. It's worth nothing, but it still runs. And there are some memories in it, I've beaten the heck out of it, talked my way onto racetracks with it (yes, I've lapped Indianpolis Motor Speedway flat out with it, among many other tracks), driven through blizzards with it, delivered presents with it (Joel has seen it and only rolled his eyes a little), slept in it, driven nonstop all over the country with it (went from DC to Daytona in just over 12 hours), and still like it even though it's pretty much used up.

On the other hand, my "good" car has 139,000 miles on it, and is still pretty nice. For a car with so few miles.

bc

bc, your raceday blog made my day. The only thing that would have been more wearying than your "day" would have actually been to have been at the 500 for the whole day. I mean people leave at the crack of dawn to beat the traffic here. A race ending well after 6pm, brutal (at least at my age, why in my youth . . .).

Alert to Yoki and Wilbrod! Animal Planet is showing the 2007 Crufts Dog Show.

bill everything, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Raceday at Indy is indeed at tough day.

On another note, I was telling someone last week that this was going to happen:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/29/AR2007052900760.html

Bob Zoellick to head the World Bank.
Well, at least he wasn't involved with the WH's Iraq plans.

bc

OK.. watching Tim's observing room again. Don't these people change their clothes?

I just saw the bear,booking out of my yard.

Pretty good size, I estimate 250+. I am so excited, almost giddy. I got out of my car and walked into my neighbors yard and tried to get a few photos. But I was wearing my river shoes and didn't want to persue it any further.

What a great day, the River and the Bear.

NOOOOO! I want ME to be pampered instead. I only get one handler, groomer, feeder, and walker rolled all in one, and that gnome can't be wasting time watching British doggies with 14 attendants each.

We stayed at a hotel in Chinatown once and I went for a good morning walk. From Canal Street go to the Manhattan Bridge. From the Brooklyn side, it's a couple of blocks to the Brooklyn Bridge which dumps out into the downtown area. Then walk north back to Chinatown. It takes about an hour plus Starbucks stops.

There's Tim - I can tell 'cause he's wearing the same clothes. Well, maybe he has similar looking outfits.

gwe, I don't want to see a bear that close. Here's an amusing article about a bear that swam across Puget Sound the other day:
http://archives.seattletimes.nwsource.com/cgi-bin/texis.cgi/web/vortex/display?slug=bear27m&date=20070527&query=Bear+Puget+Sound

greenie, I'm glad you finally saw the bear.

I think.

Any day you can enjoy the river is a good day, IMO.

Hey, I'm having a Science Tim sighting. Wait, he's gone.

bc

I have seen a bear near Deep Creek Lake a few years ago.

It seemed pretty uninterested in people, didn't appear until it thought everyone had left the area.

bc

It was fun Bc, called everybody I know, well the people that count that is.

My mom said be careful...bless her heart

What a great day!!

Maybe astronomers have lucky shirts...

Listening to NPR on Memorial Day there was a story of a graveyard in Brooklyn permanently housing many Civil War veterans. While the major officers had memorials that clearly indicated they were Civil War officers, there were many, many individuals who had fought in the war but, because they did not die in battle and because there was then no careful recordkeeping, there was no recognition that they had fought for the Union (or otherwise).

A group of historians and genealogists worked to identify most of the folks buried there and found their families, many of whom were not aware of all or a part of this portion of their family history. It really was moving.

In particular there was story of the brothers who fought on opposite sides, who ended up in the same battle, both becoming wounded and, according to the story, were comforted by the same nurse, Walt Whitman.

Here is the link:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10498859

Sorry for the space this takes up but Memorial Day, like this Whitman poem, should honor A Lincoln who gave the full measure of devotion he could give to his country (for Yoki):

1.

When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd--and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.

O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.

2

O powerful, western, fallen star!
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear'd! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul!

3

In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash'd palings,
Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle......and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-color'd blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.

4

In the swamp, in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.

Solitary, the thrush,
The hermit, withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.

Song of the bleeding throat!
Death's outlet song of life--(for well, dear brother, I know
If thou wast not gifted to sing, thou would'st surely die.)

5

Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes, and through old woods, (where lately the violets peep'd from the ground, spotting the gray debris;)
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes--passing the endless grass;
Passing the yellow-spear'd wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprising;
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards;
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.

6

Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop'd flags, with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves, as of crape-veil'd women, standing,
With processions long and winding, and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit--with the silent sea of faces, and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn;
With all the mournful voices of the dirges, pour'd around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs--Where amid these you journey,
With the tolling, tolling bells' perpetual clang;
Here! coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.

7

(Nor for you, for one, alone;
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring:
For fresh as the morning--thus would I carol a song for you, O sane and sacred death.

All over bouquets of roses,
O death! I cover you over with roses and early lilies;
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious, I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes;
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you, and the coffins all of you, O death.)

8

O western orb, sailing the heaven!
Now I know what you must have meant, as a month since we walk'd,
As we walk'd up and down in the dark blue so mystic,
As we walk'd in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell, as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop'd from the sky low down, as if to my side, (while the other stars all look'd on;)
As we wander'd together the solemn night, (for something, I know not what, kept me from sleep;)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe;
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze, in the cold transparent night,
As I watch'd where you pass'd and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul, in its trouble, dissatisfied, sank, as where you, sad orb,
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.

9

Sing on, there in the swamp!
O singer bashful and tender! I hear your notes--I hear your call;
I hear--I come presently--I understand you;
But a moment I linger--for the lustrous star has detain'd me;
The star, my departing comrade, holds and detains me.

10

O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be, for the grave of him I love?

Sea-winds, blown from east and west,
Blown from the eastern sea, and blown from the western sea, till there on the prairies meeting:
These, and with these, and the breath of my chant,
I perfume the grave of him I love.

11

O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?

Pictures of growing spring, and farms, and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air;
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific;
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there;
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows;
And the city at hand, with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life, and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.

12

Lo! body and soul! this land!
Mighty Manhattan, with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships;
The varied and ample land--the South and the North in the light--Ohio's shores, and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies, cover'd with grass and corn.

Lo! the most excellent sun, so calm and haughty;
The violet and purple morn, with just-felt breezes;
The gentle, soft-born, measureless light;
The miracle, spreading, bathing all--the fulfill'd noon;
The coming eve, delicious--the welcome night, and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.

13

Sing on! sing on, you gray-brown bird!
Sing from the swamps, the recesses--pour your chant from the bushes;
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.

Sing on, dearest brother--warble your reedy song;
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.

O liquid, and free, and tender!
O wild and loose to my soul! O wondrous singer!
You only I hear......yet the star holds me, (but will soon depart;)
Yet the lilac, with mastering odor, holds me.

14

Now while I sat in the day, and look'd forth,
In the close of the day, with its light, and the fields of spring, and the farmer preparing his crops,
In the large unconscious scenery of my land, with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty, (after the perturb'd winds, and the storms;)
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides,--and I saw the ships how they sail'd,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy with labor,
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with its meals and minutia of daily usages;
And the streets, how their throbbings throbb'd, and the cities pent--lo! then and there,
Falling upon them all, and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear'd the cloud, appear'd the long black trail;
And I knew Death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.

15

Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle, as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night, that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars, and ghostly pines so still.

And the singer so shy to the rest receiv'd me;
The gray-brown bird I know, receiv'd us comrades three;
And he sang what seem'd the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.

From deep secluded recesses,
From the fragrant cedars, and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.

And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held, as if by their hands, my comrades in the night;
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.

DEATH CAROL.

16

Come, lovely and soothing Death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later, delicate Death.

Prais'd be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious;
And for love, sweet love--But praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding Death.

Dark Mother, always gliding near, with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome?

Then I chant it for thee--I glorify thee above all;
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.

Approach, strong Deliveress!
When it is so--when thou hast taken them, I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving, floating ocean of thee,
Laved in the flood of thy bliss, O Death.

From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose, saluting thee--adornments and feastings for thee;
And the sights of the open landscape, and the high-spread sky, are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.

The night, in silence, under many a star;
The ocean shore, and the husky whispering wave, whose voice I know;
And the soul turning to thee, O vast and well-veil'd Death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.

Over the tree-tops I float thee a song!
Over the rising and sinking waves--over the myriad fields, and the prairies wide;
Over the dense-pack'd cities all, and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O Death!

17

To the tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,
With pure, deliberate notes, spreading, filling the night.

Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist, and the swamp-perfume;
And I with my comrades there in the night.

While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed,
As to long panoramas of visions.

18

I saw askant the armies;
And I saw, as in noiseless dreams, hundreds of battle-flags;
Borne through the smoke of the battles, and pierc'd with missiles, I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and bloody;
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs, (and all in silence,)
And the staffs all splinter'd and broken.

I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men--I saw them;
I saw the debris and debris of all the dead soldiers of the war;
But I saw they were not as was thought;
They themselves were fully at rest--they suffer'd not;
The living remain'd and suffer'd--the mother suffer'd,
And the wife and the child, and the musing comrade suffer'd,
And the armies that remain'd suffer'd.

19

Passing the visions, passing the night;
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades' hands;
Passing the song of the hermit bird, and the tallying song of my soul,
(Victorious song, death's outlet song, yet varying, ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling, flooding the night,

Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again bursting with joy,
Covering the earth, and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,)
Passing, I leave thee, lilac with heart-shaped leaves;
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring,
I cease from my song for thee;
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous, with silver face in the night.

20

Yet each I keep, and all, retrievements out of the night;
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird,
And the tallying chant, the echo arous'd in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star, with the countenance full of woe,
With the lilac tall, and its blossoms of mastering odor;
With the holders holding my hand, nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine, and I in the midst, and their memory ever I keep--for the dead I loved so well;
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands...and this for his dear sake;
Lilac and star and bird, twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines, and the cedars dusk and dim.

NYC is worth a couple visits a year. My faves:

Running through Central Park with the New York Road Runners Club. (Same day registration at club headquarters.)
Lower East Side Tenement Museum.
Evensong at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.
Standing in the cheap tickets line and taking my chances on what show I'll see.
Keens Chophouse (to eat to the point of pain, then order dessert).
Metropolitan Museum of Art (just a little bit at a time please, sensory overload sets in)
Empire State Building at night. Plan your trip around a full moon.
Taking the train from Quantico (free parking and cheaper than leaving from Union Station, go figure)and the walk from Penn Station to Times Square.

frosti... I loved the Lower East Side Tenement Museum. Excellent suggestion.

And standing in the cheap tickets line is almost as much fun as the show itself. You meet people from all over the world and everyone is so friendly and helpful, suggesting shows or places to see or eat.

The first time I did it, I had my daughter with me; she was around 7 or 8 years old. I realized that I needed cash (they don't take anything but) and left her in line with some nice folks we had been talking with while I ran across the street to the ATM. As I ran over there I realized I AM LEAVING MY DAUGHTER ALONE STANDING ON A CURB IN TIMES SQUARE.

No worries, though. Probably one of the safest places she could have been at that moment.

Wow, the boodle has been Whitman-ambushed, Bill E.

I like the first line of that poem every time I read it. It has helped me remember when lilacs bloom in the DC area (early April).

Up here, lilacs are now in bloom and they are a particularly intense, angry red-purple for some reason; maybe because they're late to the anniversary party by over a month and half? I guess it is apt they decide to around Memorial day weekend instead.

Cherry trees have been blooming recently, too.

Yesterday, Wilbrodog stopped to greet a plump bird sitting next to the sidewalk as he trotted past. The bird didn't seem to see him until he took a sniff, and then decided to flap away a few paces to avoid dog breath. It wasn't a hermit thrush, though.

You know next time ScienceTim tells us he's going to Hawaii or some other seemingly wonderful locale, I'm not going to be jealous at all.

TBG-When Ma Frostbitten organizes one of her women only trips to NYC I always volunteer to stand in the cheap tickets line for the group. You are right, it is as fun as the show. My favorite recommended by another line stander was "The Musical of Musicals, the Musical." The "I can't pay the rent," story told 5 times over in different musical styles.

Now, TBG-- who goes to Hawaii to do their laundry? ;).

Wilbrodog is snarking that I'm keeping him up late just to drool over the Crufts doggies. He delibrately lying on the floor shooting me herding dog-type stares.

Trying to catch up with all of you - thanks for the poison ivy words of wisdom Raysmom, Jumper and R.D. It's getting better. Still have more to tackle, though, so will be keeping your advice handy.

Hi to Cassandra, Martooni, Yoki, Wilbrod, greenwithenvy (glad you saw your bear!), dbG, Ivansmom, RD, Mudge, dmd, dr, mo, - yikes, hi to everyone. Good night to all.

TBG: "OK.. watching Tim's observing room again. Don't these people change their clothes?"

No, not really. Makes it easier to pack lightly.

frosti,
The Musical of Musicals is really funny to anyone that has seen enough shows to understand the different styles. The Sondheim section is particularly dead-on.

I saw it several years ago in a small off-Broadway venue under the Citibank building. I think TMoM:TM played or will play some DC dates.

The top price of hot shows has been creeping up to $110. If you join Playbill.com, they offer a lot of reduced price tickets for new upcoming shows. You can see Xanadu for just $49 until July 8. Yes, Xanadu, the Olivia Nuetron Bomb classic is coming to Broadway, roller skates and all.

'Morning, Boodle. Where's Scotty to do the morning Grover wave? Well, guess I'll just have to do it. *Lifts arms a few inches, drops it* OK, I'm not much of a morning person.

Reading the Whitman poem I realized anew what I've known for a long time: we don't use "O" nearly often enough. (Notice I set an example for you folks by using it in my opening post? I gotta do all the heavy lifting around here.)

Scanning the WaPo front page I note there's an interesting story that shows we can learn a lot from the Chinese. O Seems they've decided to execute the disgraced former head of their FDA. Let's see, who might we place in front of a firing squad here? Rummy? Michael "Heckuva Job" Brown? Wolfowitz? Ollie North? Gonzo? O I mean, this is the supermacho, tough-minded guvmint, right? We torture, we execute prisoners in Texas right and left. O I don't see why we can't polish off a bureaucrat from time to time to "encourage the others," as Voltaire noted.

Must go jump in the shower (I have to jump so I can reach the soap dish). O constrain-ed river flow! O sudsy rain! O rubber duckied dispenser of lilac-scented shampoo! Sudsily I wet me as I start the day!

I don't think I should go further into the details. See yuns anon.

One more Boodle-hogging showtunes tip:

On 50th Street just beyond the theater district is New World Stages, which is an off-Broadway multiplex. They have several shows running at any given time.

http://www.newworldstages.com/

We saw Altar Boyz there a while back. Top ticket prices are usually $65 but discounts are frequent and generous if you know where to look.

The shows are a little off-beat, but sometimes that is a refreshing change from the tourist bait shows on the Great White Way.

Jeez, 'Mudge, give a guy a minute, willya??
Taskmaster ratzinfratzin...

*overly enthusiastic Grover waves*

:-)

6:37 wake-up call on the Boodle. This is becoming a full time job. Where's my Cassandra S greeting for the morning? Get to business people.

CciTim has an excuse since he was up all night entertaining attention deficit disordered insomniacs.

Good morning, friends. Well today is the busy day. Been up since five o'clock, and getting ready to do a Mudge (jump in the shower).

Morning, Wheezy, Slyness, Mudge, and all.*waving* How's it going, Martooni?

I was hoping our family could take the trip to New York, but my dad would not budge. We could not change his mind, so the trip was cancelled. Maybe I'll get a chance to go sometime in the future, and stop in the District too, hopefully at one of the boodle porching hour.

The weather here is so hot and dry. We haven't had rain in a number of days. The folks on television are talking the "d" word. One county has already enforced water restrictions.

Have a great day, my friends. I saw something about Britaney blogging about her meltdown. Did not read it. It seems there are quite a few meltdowns going around now. Perhaps it is fashionable. I remember when it used to be called life. Silly me.

God loves us so much more than we can imagined through Him that died for all, Jesus Christ. Peace.

Horror story!

Bookstore owner sets unsold inventory on fire:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/book_burning;_ylt=ApU0LidWhTIkAM2ClMmZB1VvzwcF

Surely there are boodlers close enough to Kansas City, Mo. to halt the massacre?

Mornin' all...

Nothing like the mental image of Mudge waxing poetic in the shower to start the day. (O' the humanity! -shudder-)

On Broadway musicals... I would rather be tied down face-up in a field on a hot summer day while a murder of crows peck my eyes out than be forced to sit through *any* B'way production. An unanesthesized vasectomy at the hands of a blind surgeon with advanced Parkinson's disease runs a close second.

I haven't been to NYC for nearly 20 years, so can't really speak to its current offerings. All I know is that since they cleaned up Times Square, they eliminated one of my favorite attractions. I guess I'll have to go to Buffalo if I want to see the Girls! Girls! Girls!

Well... now that I've set that Motley Crue tune cootie loose, I'm off to play with paint and ladders.

Peace out, my friends...

(65)

Mudge... I think Marc Fisher read your seafood recommendations...

http://blog.washingtonpost.com/rawfisher/2007/05/seafood_dives_americas_and_dcs.html?hpid=news-col-blogs

By the way... we ended up in Dunkirk at a little BBQ dive called Randy's (they have a walk-up version in Hughesville as well). We set out looking for Piggy Wiggy, recommended in that Post article from last year I pointed to.

We looked and looked for Piggy Wiggy and finally decided that Randy's was its new incarnation. Correct. They have been open only 3 weeks.

The food was great, the BBQ sandwiches are huge, but the NC BBQ sandwich was actually a little too spicy for my taste; not the norm for minced pork BBQ. My friend Jane had the pulled pork sandwich and it was just right.

They also sell soft ice cream with some kind of flavor bursts, but since they don't take credit cards, we had spent nearly every last cent of cash we had on us so we'll have to wait for next time to partake.

Nobody wants to know nuthin' 'bout Mudge waxing *anything* in the shower, or anywhere else, for that matter.

Happy 65, Martooni.

'morning, all.

Going to be a busy day, thought I'd drop in and say hi before things got busy.

Mudge, I like the uses of "O" and "anon."

Enow of me, I flee!

bc

Sorry for pre-empting you, Scotty; I was just getting used to seeing you out there at 4:30 or 5 or so. Should have let you sleep in.

bc, loved your race day marathon, BTW. Way to go on the inclusion of scrapple. Not so sure about the Red Bull-and-vodka. As the old joke about giving coffee to a drunk goes, who wants an alert drunk?

Nobody was meant to be peeking at me during my morning ablutions. Avert your eyes, please. Heaven knows, I do.

TBG, there used to be a small restaurant in Dunkirk called Randy's that I used to eat lunch in three or four days a week when I worked over near there as a boatbuilder circa 1978-82. They made a great steak sandwich with pizza sauce and pepperoni on it. It'd give me wonderful heartburn before I got out of the parking lot, and kept me all toasty warm on cold winter days. Wonder if it's the same people in a new incarnation. (I know the Randy's in Hughesville, but didn't know they had a Dunkirk branch.)

Dooley mentions having a Ford Explorer as a field vehicle. Someone at the Florida Museum of Natural History explained to me that the all wheel drive Honda Element is the perfect vehicle for sand, and has drawn stares from folks with "real" four wheel drives in the Rockies. Then again, this individual's an expert.

I've never been to a New York theater, but if the scene is anything like London or even Portland, Oregon, some of the most entertaining/challenging shows are in smaller venues. Broadway productions are so expensive that they have to be very, very safe. I don't think anyone will be tarred and feathered onstage, like in Garry Mitchell's "Loyal Women."

I could cry at the Kansas City book store burning books. I might have to do some long distance buying, but I worry about the cost of shipping. I'm going to my corner to cry now.

Every once in a while I do a deep clean of the living room corners. I did that last weekend. The book case is filled again. The sad part is that most of these books are supposed to be in my study, which is also filled. I've been avoiding a bookcase construction weekend for a while now. Maybe I can hold off till the fall but Its going to have to come soon. the corners are filling again. I swear to you, I am not hardly buying any books. I think they are giving birth.

Dave and martooni, theater just depends on a person's individual tastes; if you don't like big splashy musicals, that's fine. I only recommended them to Padouk because that's one of the things a tourist can do in New York that you can't get in Iowa or (with all due respect) in Portland, Oregon. It's not only about what's up on the stage, it's also about the total venue, the (you should pardon the phrase) "mise-en-scene," the atmosphere of the Great White Way, yadda yadda. But if that's not to your taste, that's OK. One of the best plays I ever saw was a production of Moliere's Tartuffe in a relatively smaller "black box" kind of theater in Greenwich Village when I was about 12. (This was Greenwich Village in the pre-Dylan days, folks, circa 1958.) Absolutely outstanding. There's Broadway, there's off-Broadway, there's off-off-Broadway, and there's the dinner theater in Paramus, New Jersey, where David Hasslehoff is doing The Fantasticks. Ya pays yer money and ya taker yer cherse.

Just one step up from scavenging is another of my spouse's specialties: closeouts. He's the original wheeler-dealer, living proof of the adage that the secret to retail business is not selling, but buying. In his heyday, in upstate New York, he was the king of the close-outs. He would buy and resell anything--some of his memorable container-loads were wigs, zippers, and plus-size women's dresses. This was all before he started his career in the arts, and before I met him. He hasn't lost his knack for making money off of the stuff nobody else wants, though. About three years ago, one of the companies he buys frames from offered him a very good deal on a truckload of discontinued moldings. I'm sure he never considered turning it down, just because he had no warehouse/storage area/shed. He rented a truck and brought it all home and stacked it in the backyard. It was like a very large, very elegant woodpile. Retail value, I don't know, $20,000? Made into frames and sold at the ridiculous prices that frameshops and art galleries ask, maybe $200,000. It took two years (and a considerable amount of hired help) for artistspouse to make frames out of all that molding, but he did it, and put paintings and prints in the frames and sold them all. The grass grew back, eventually.

Returning to a previous topic, Computerworld had an article this week on cyberstalking. I hadn't thought about the DMV and voter registries!

" . . . Wood suggests asking your state's motor vehicles and voter registry to put a block on your address and phone number. "Otherwise, any person may obtain them just for inquiring," he says."
http://computerworld.com/action/article.do?command=viewArticleBasic&articleId=9017938&pageNumber=1

There are a number of articles on personal security in the blogosphere, to be found if you go to computerworld[dot]com and search on "stalker," for instance:

How to surf anonymously without a trace
Several ways to protect yourself from the feds and others
http://www.computerworld.com/action/article.do?command=viewArticleBasic&articleId=9012778&pageNumber=1

Waves back to Wheezy & *.

Sincerest apologies to Wibrodog for diverting the gnome from her required duties (snacks, petting, scratching) to watch Crufts. Even The Wonder Dog, who's normally lukewarm to being fussed over, was feeling ignored. About 10:15 he finally caught my eye, rolled over on his side, and lifted a front paw, inviting a tummy rub.

*Grover waves to greenie's bear*

bc, one of my favorite sights at Indy was the guys sitting on the side of the road with signs reading "$10 to take off your shirt." Couldn't get Raysdad to take them up on it, though.

Am I the only one having trouble getting to the WaPo Discussions page? I can find the link all right, but half the time when I click it I either get nothing or a Page Not Found.

Interesting thing this morning in the WSJ about sub-primes and Detroit neighborhoods. Pretty grim. Partly this is the auto industry, and its decline. People are buying fully loaded cars for around 30k, using 7 year loans. Maybe the whole car thing just goes bad?

The motorsports correspondent has a 'man crush' on 'dreamy' Lewis Hamilton. Some things should be nursed privately? Modo has an impenetrable article on thumos, animality, and, I suppose, masculinity. Certainly when I grew up, cars were a big part of how boys defined themselves. Better than joining a gang. Sadly, I drove a veedub bug. Do we think the neocons had happy adolescences, full of animality?

George, I'm pretty sure the reference to sub-primes and the WSJ pretty much killed the boodle. Speaking for myself, it made me nod off and bang my head on my keyboard, leaving a bruise.

I myself thought we were going to head off on a discussion of the Sub-Genius, but I've been wrong before.

Early and Often, as a matter of fact.

:-)

O Boodle of all knowledge, I need thy help!

My first green light bulb has burned out. It lit my living room on a timer for, oh, six or eight years. Now, how does one dispose of a bulb with mercury in it?

BTW, Scotty, have your work problems relented any? Things are getting crazier around here, what with the move coming up.

Slyness do you have special recycling centres for rechargeable batteries, old paint cans etc - I would try there.

Slyness, I'd take it to the county landfill (if you have one) on Hazardous Waste Day (we have them once a month). Alternatively, check with your firehouse people--they are supposed to know how to dispose of hazmat stuff like old flares, etc.

You had a green light bulb in your living room?

A*green* bulb, as in energy efficient, Mudge. Sorry, I couldn't spell fluorescent without looking it up. ;-)

Only slightly, 'Mudge... Sorta like the 7th inning stretch. Only in the 1st inning.

:-O

And I agree with 'Mudge, Slyness. The city or county solid waste folks should have some sort of hazmat procedures.

Ah, my misunderstanding. I get it now. *slaps forehead, mutters "Doh!"*

Here's something potentially interesting I've come across: ya know how people have been touting "hands-free" cellphone systems for talking while driving? Well, it appears that it doesn't make much difference if your using a hands-free system or just holding the phone upside your head; either way you're about four times more likely to be involved in an accident than if you weren't yakking on the phone. Turns out it is the mental distraction that is the problem, not having free or freer hands.

Speaking of green light bulbs, maybe the bright minds of the boodle can help me decide something. I'd like to switch to green bulbs, but already have an oversupply of the old bulbs due to the Raysdad philosophy of "Why buy one of something when 10 will do, particularly if it's on sale." Is it greener overall to just throw the old bulbs away (and fill up the landfill) and start over with green ones? Or to use up the old ones before going green? I've compromised by putting green bulbs in the lamps we use the most, but am interested in others' opinions.

Mudge, I also saw a report this morning that having a passenger in the car increases the probability of an accident, due to the distraction fa