Up On The Roof

Last night my friend Lysa and I were having a drink in the bar of a swanky new hotel downtown. After checking out the bathrooms in the basement, we decided to see what the roof was like. Well, there was no roof deck or public access, but the doors were unlocked so we decided to go ahead and see what the view was like, at least until security came up and dragged us off.

They never did.

Below are some iPhone photos of the view.




Along those lines, this past summer, I was hanging out with friends when one of them, Kevin, suggested that we go see the view from his roof. "They were refinishing and tarring the roof earlier today, but I think it's dry by now." His building was in Hell's Kitchen so we were surrounded on all sides by the skyscrapers of NYC, illuminated by white lights that compensate for the stars you can't see from the city.





I love these views of the city, so much that it kept my mind off the fact that it was difficult to walk around on the roof because the tar wasn't, in fact, 100% dry. We walked around with the grace of Frankenstein's monster when he is first off the operating table, and my friend Kevin hoped that perhaps his building's super wouldn't find out who it was that messed up the roof, a hope dashed after we noticed the trail of tar shoeprints leading to his apartment door. Actually, we looked back and saw there was an extra set of footprints belonging to Jesus that seemed to disappear during the difficult times of our lives. When we asked Jesus how He could abandon us during our times of trial, He said "perhaps you guys shouldn't have gone up on the roof. You are really in trouble."

Recent Graffiti Murals In My Neighborhood

Oy Vey

During my dream this past Saturday night, Groucho Marx told me that no-one in my generation had produced anything of any real worth. I checked with several other people in the dream as to whether he was kidding or not, but ultimately concluded that he was right.

Last night I dreamt I was at the Museum of Modern Art and there was an exhibit on the top floor that I wanted to see, but to get there, I had to go through an exhibit about the Holocaust which included exact reproductions of the train cars, sorting areas and shower rooms. I kept looking for another way to the top floor but couldn't find one and didn't have the heart to ask the staff members "do I have to see the Holocaust?"

Today's Headline

Ted Williams' Severed Head Reportedly Abused In Cryonics Facility

Well, if you don't want your severed head abused, maybe you shouldn't send it to a cryonics facility in the first place.

The Smiths In Cross-Stitch

Somehow it just makes sense.

Meniere's Disease - Inner Ear Problem or Gateway To Psychic Powers?

Found this at work. It was kind of a slow day.

The Way We Live Now

An acquaintance of mine (I avoid using the term "Facebook Friend" ever since the teenage son of one of my Real Existence Friends told me "You don't know how funny it is hearing an adult call someone a 'Facebook Friend'") updated his status this afternoon by noting that it was the anniversary of his father's death. Several people commented, writing that they were sad or sorry, but among them, there was one comment that was, in its entirety, and I quote:

: (

Really? Someone mentions how sad they are over the death of their father, someone who meant so much to them, and your response is a sad-faced emoticon? You can't even take the time to type "so sorry?"

I envision a day when we will only communicate through emoticons, a day when they will act like our typographical moodrings to quickly let everyone know how we feel. Orwell was too optimistic when he wrote about language being reduced to "double-plus good" in 1984. On the other hand, perhaps the depth of your feelings can be summed up by a colon and a parenthesis.