September 2008 Archives

Liveblogging the first presidential debate!

9:00 p.m. Unboxing the pizza!
9:02 p.m. I'm at Andie and Eric's with them, Allan and Stuart.
9:03 p.m. Recap: McCain, done with rectifying the financial crisis, is ready to debate.
9:04 p.m. Moderator: Jim Lehrer.
9:04 p.m. Go, Jim! You're on.
9:05 p.m. McCain vs. Obama.
9:05 p.m. Do we get to see the coin toss? (No.)
9:06 p.m. Jim: No cheers, no applause, no noise of any kind.
9:06 p.m. "We must achieve both security and solvency."
9:07 p.m. Jim: Where do you stand on the financial recovery plan?
9:07 p.m. Obama: We people on Main Street have been struggling for awhile. ... We have to move swiftly and wisely.
9:08 p.m. Obama: 1.) Oversight over process; 2.) ensure taxpayers can get their money back and/or gains; 3.) money shouldn't pad CEO pockets; 4.) need to resolve foreclosure crisis.
9:08 p.m. Obama: First mention of W.: "It hasn't worked."
9:09 p.m. McCain: Sen. Kennedy is in the hospital.
9:09 p.m. McCain: McCain is feelin' a little better tonight, and he'll tell us why:
9:10 p.m. McCain: Dems and Republicans are working together on the financial crisis.
9:10 p.m. McCain: The point is: we've seen Dems and Repubs working together. A package with a number of...essential elements.
9:11 p.m. McCain sounds nervous. Or angry. Or has a cold. Or it's just Andie's TV.
9:11 p.m. McCain: This is the end of the beginning if we come out with a package that will keep these institutions stable.
9:12 p.m. Obama: "Optimistic." How did we get into this situation in the first place? "I told you so" about the subprime mortgage crisis.
9:13 p.m. McCain: "Sure," he'll vote for the plan. And he, too, warned about Freddie and Fannie and those other guys.
9:13 p.m. McCain: Scripted moment about Roosevelt or someone.
9:14 p.m. McCain: "We got to start also holding people accountable."
9:14 p.m. McCain: "People are going to be held accountable in my administration."
9:14 p.m. Obama: For years, it's been what's good for Wall Street, not Main Street.
9:15 p.m. Chuckly moment. Jim's gettin' persnickety that the candidates aren't talkin' to each other.
9:16 p.m. McCain: "Look: we gotta fix this system." "We have a long way to go." Agencies "weren't doing their job." But he believes in the American worker!
9:17 p.m. Stuart: "He's strokin'." Eric: "He's gonna explode."
9:17 p.m. Jim: Are there differences in your approaches to get us out of this financial crisis?
9:18 p.m. McCain: It's outta control. "Gateway drug" to out-of-control spending and corruption.
9:18 p.m. <McCain: He's got a pen and he's not afraid to VETO with it.
9:19 p.m. McCain: Pork barrel spending! By Obama!
9:19 p.m. Obama: Earmarks process has indeed been abused. McCain also right that special interests are involved. McCain is proposing $300B in tax cuts to some of the wealthiest corps and individuals in the country.
9:20 p.m. Obama: Under McCain, CEOs would get reduced taxes, average Americans would get fucked.
9:20 p.m. Obama: A lil' extra money for Americans: a better recipe for economic growth.
9:21 p.m. McCain: Sen. Obama this and that. Now it's gettin' juicy.
9:21 p.m. McCain: "I was called sheriff." [Bush-style laugh.]
9:22 p.m. McCain: I wanna cut spending. I wanna keep taxes low.
9:22 p.m. Obama: Cuts loopholes & tax breaks. Ensure health care system provides basic coverage.
9:23 p.m. McCain: The business tax: second highest in the world. I wanna cut that, keep businesses in the U.S. and create jobs.
9:24 p.m. McCain: [A bunch of numbers.] I want tax cuts, every family a tax credit, double the dividend for every independent child in America.
9:25 p.m. Obama: [In-depth explanation of what happens to the average American under the tax cuts.]
9:27 p.m. McCain: "Walkin' the walk and talkin' the talk." "Festooned with Christmas tree ornaments." I've fought against wasteful spending and for a fundamentally fair tax system.
9:28 p.m. Obama: Oil companies would get tons of tax breaks under your plan, John.
9:29 p.m. Jim: What are we going to have to give up to pay for financial rescue plan?
9:30 p.m. Obama: We have to have energy independence from Middle Eastern oil in 10 years. Fix the healthcare system. And we have to ensure we're competing in education. Need to fix our infrastructure: new electrical grid.
9:32 p.m. McCain: "We've got to cut spending."
9:32 p.m. [How about on the war?]
9:32 p.m. McCain: Ethanol subsidies. [Uh...]
9:32 p.m. McCain: We have to do away with cost-plus contracts with defense contractors. [There we go.]
9:33 p.m. Jim: Neither of you are suggesting any changes.
9:34 p.m. Obama: Repeats energy/foreign oil dependence point.
9:34 p.m. Obama: Gotta make cuts. Agrees with McCain on that.
9:35 p.m. Obama: Mentions Bush (his "wrongheaded policies") again.
9:35 p.m. Jim: Financial crisis. How will it impact your presidency?
9:36 p.m. Obama: Using a hatchet when you should be using a scalpel, McCain.
9:36 p.m. McCain: Sending lots of $ overseas to countries we don't like much. We need offshore drilling and nuclear power.
9:37 p.m. McCain: Nuclear power fixes our dependence on foreign oil.
9:37 p.m. Jim: Getting cranky about his financial crisis question. Jesus.
9:38 p.m. Obama: It will affect our budget. Mentions Roosevelt.
9:39 p.m. McCain: Obama's healthcare plan will hand the system over to the Federal Government.
9:39 p.m. McCain: Obama has $800B in spending for new programs.
9:40 p.m. McCain: We owe China $500B.
9:40 p.m. McCain: I fight against unnecessary spending.
9:41 p.m. Obama: But... "your president" -> an "orgy of spending."
9:41 p.m. McCain: "It's well known that I have not been elected Ms. Congeniality within the U.S. Senate."
9:42 p.m. McCain: I am MAVERICK OF THE SENATE. (Palin: ALSO A MAVERICK.)
9:43 p.m. McCain: "We are winning in Iraq."
9:44 p.m. Obama: Should have we gone into the war in the first place. I opposed it when it was politically risky to do so.
9:44 p.m. Obama: Have spent almost a $1 trillion and 4,000 lives in the war. (Also, mentions Bush again.)
9:45 p.m. Obama: "We took our eye off the ball," re:war spending.
9:45 p.m. Obama: "I...will keep the American people safe."
9:46 p.m. McCain: Next POTUS will have to decide how, when we leave and what we leave behind.
9:46 p.m. McCain: Obama took forever to visit Iraq, never attended a hearing, etc.
9:47 p.m. Obama: Mentions Biden. "John, you like to pretend like the war started in 2007." It started in 2003 and you said it'd be easy, we'd be greeted as liberators, etc.: you were wrong.
9:48 p.m. McCain: [tries to interrupt; fails]
9:48 p.m. McCain: Rolls out prepared "I went to Baghdad" anecdote. Honored to visit troops. Etc. Obama refuses to acknowledge we're winning in Iraq.
9:49 p.m. Obama: That's not true.
9:49 p.m. McCain: [keeps going]
9:50 p.m. Obama: [tries to interrupt; fails]
9:50 p.m. Obama: We both support more troops. We need more troops and resources in Afghanistan.
9:51 p.m. Obama: We have to end this war responsibly, in phases. And "capture and kill Bin Laden and crush Al Qaeda."
9:52 p.m. McCain and Obama: [arguing at same time]
9:52 p.m. McCain: Wider war and more complicated if we follow Obama's plan.
9:53 p.m. Jim: Obama, do you think more U.S. troops should be sent to Afghanistan, how many and when?
9:53 p.m. Obama: Yes. ASAP. It's getting worse.
9:55 p.m. Obama: We have to press the Afghan government to ensure they're working for their people. Deal with the poppy problem. We've got to deal with Pakistan. Under Bush, we've been giving them money.
9:56 p.m. McCain: Regrets washing hands of Afghanistan. Not prepared to cut off aid to Pakistan. Chiding: "You don't do that. You don't say that out loud."
9:57 p.m. McCain: Not just more troops: we need a new strategy.
9:58 p.m. McCain: We've got a lot of work to do in Afghanistan. Mentions Gen. Petraeus for like the fifth time.
9:59 p.m. Obama: [History lesson about Pakistan.]
10:00 p.m. McCain: [Waxes nostalgic about Reagan.]
10:02 p.m. McCain: I have a record of national security issues.
10:02 p.m. McCain: Shopworn anecdote about the slain soldier and his fucking bracelet.
10:03 p.m. Obama: "I've got a bracelet, too."
10:03 p.m. I would like my own slain-soldier bracelet.
10:04 p.m. Obama: We took our eye off of Afghanistan and those 9/11 guys. McCain, you haven't been consistently concerned about what we're doing in Afghanistan. You "muddled through" it.
10:05 p.m. McCain: I visited Afghanistan. Unlike Obama. We will win in Afghanistan. Possibly because I visited.
10:05 p.m. McCain: Petraeus.
10:06 p.m. Jim: Good news: You are even on time. Bad news: "All my little five-minute things have run over."
10:06 p.m. Jim: What about...IRAN?
10:06 p.m. McCain: "An existential threat to the state of Israel."
10:07 p.m. McCain: "We cannot allow a second holocaust."
10:07 p.m. McCain: I shall create a League of Superhero Nations! France! UK! Germany! We can "affect Iranian behavior."
10:08 p.m. I grow drowsy.
10:09 p.m. Obama: The republican guard of Iran is a terrorist organization. Did he just say "Iran-ically"?
10:09 p.m. Obama: We cannot tolerate a nuclear Iran, as McCain says.
10:10 p.m. Obama: We need tougher sanctions. We need cooperation with Russia and China re:trade. We need to engage in tough diplomacy with Iran. Unlike McCain, who believes not talking to someone implies punishment.
10:11 p.m. McCain: Ahmadinejad? Ahmadinejad!
10:12 p.m. McCain: Brief history lesson re:diplomacy. There's gotta be preconditions. No face-to-face meeting with Ahmadinejad.
10:13 p.m. Obama: I reserve the right to meet with whomever I want if I think it's gonna keep America safe.
10:13 p.m. Audience snickers at Obama's "invite them to tea" comment despite Jim's pre-debate STFU warning.
10:16 p.m. McCain: What Obama doesn't understand is sitting down with someone without precondition: that's dangerous.
10:16 p.m. McCain: The N. Koreans have broken every agreement they've entered into.
10:17 p.m. Obama: "We do not expect to solve every problem before we initiate talks."
10:18 p.m. McCain: Goes on about something and his friend Kissinger. Obama tries to interject.
10:19 p.m. Jim: [Some question about Russia.]
10:19 p.m. Obama: We need to follow-through on our six-point ceasefire.
10:20 p.m. "Six-Point Ceasefire" would be a good band name.
10:20 p.m. Obama: We can't return to a Cold War stature with Russia.
10:21 p.m. McCain: "A little bit of naiveté" re:Obama's comments on Georgia vs. Russia.
10:21 p.m. McCain: "I looked into Mr. Putin's eyes and I saw three letters: a "K," a "G," and a "B.""
10:23 p.m. McCain: Another comment about his world travel.
10:24 p.m. McCain: Oh, yes; and I've been to Georgia, too, and I saw a big ol' Putin poster.
10:24 p.m. Obama: We agree for the most part on these issues.
10:26 p.m. Obama: "Russia is in part resurgent and Putin is feeling powerful..."
10:26 p.m. Obama: Rogue states.
10:27 p.m. Obama: McCain voting against alternative energy. We've gotta walk the walk not just talk the talk when it comes to energy independence.
10:28 p.m. McCain: Offshore drilling is very important. Need to "exploit those reserves."
10:28 p.m. Obama: "John?" We have to store nuclear waste... blah blah... big ol' interruptions.
10:29 p.m. Jim: Another 9/11?
10:29 p.m. McCain: "We have a safer nation but we're a long way from safe."
10:30 p.m. McCain: "I think America is safer today than it was on 9/11."
10:31 p.m. McCain: Still a long way to go.
10:31 p.m. Obama: We're safer in some ways. We still have a long way to go. Haven't done enough re:transit and ports.
10:32 p.m. Obama: Al Qaeda! Needs focus and more cooperation with allies.
10:33 p.m. Obama: Will restore America's standing in the world.
10:33 p.m. McCain: Mentions Reagan again.
10:34 p.m. McCain: Obama doesn't get it: if we fail in Iraq, it encourages Al Qaeda.
10:34 p.m. McCain: Petraeus.
10:35 p.m. Obama: Bin Laden still out there. We're China's bitch. Because we've been focused on Iraq, "this single lens." $10B or more/month spent on war. Can't spend on healthcare, science, etc.
10:37 p.m. McCain: Obama doesn't have the knowledge or experience.
10:38 p.m. McCain: I love them and I'll take care of them.
10:38 p.m. McCain: Reform, prosperity and peace. I don't need on-the-job training. I'm ready to take the job now.
10:39 p.m. Obama: Talks about his Kenyan Dad.
10:40 p.m. McCain: Drags out the POW/MIA chestnut. "I know how to heal the wounds of war."
10:40 p.m. The end.

Commentary:
I thought Obama was polished, eloquent and informed, and a formally excellent debater. And that's kind of his problem, isn't it? Have you traveled widely in this great country of ours? The overwhelming majority of it is not polished, eloquent and informed. And people like to hang out with people similar to them. How do you think it was our current president got elected? (Twice.)

McCain snapped back with a lot more direct/personal attacks on Obama (all of them prepared, many only tangentially related to the moderator's question at hand) and he had a ton more mini-anecdotes which come across to me as clumsy. But someone out there must find them personable and endearing, right? I think Obama needs to tough it out with some more direct attacks on McCain. Maybe attend the next debate shirtless.

About half of today’s college students are willing to sacrifice career satisfaction for a bigger paycheck, according to a survey taken by Experience, Inc., a Boston-based career services company.

From an article in today’s Boston Globe, “Half of college students going for the paycheck, says study.”

After work, I drank my favorite, a Double Fill Up (rye, muddled mint, lemon juice and pomegranate syrup), at Death & Co. then bought a pair of Kubrick-like miniature toy figurines at Toy Tokyo and gave the Peecol one (a guy-in-a-hazmat-suit designed by low-res German art collective eBoy) to Vincent when we met later for a manly dinner and drinks at our favorite local honky-tonk, Rodeo Bar & Grill. According to the character’s bio, “Hazma never landed his dream gig as a chemical cleaner, but he heads to his desk-job in a Level A suit anyway.” In between this frivolity, I somehow procured a new hardcover copy (for half-off!) of John Hodgman’s new book, More Infomration Than You Require, even though its sale date is October 21. Hooray for rifts in space and time!

The balding thing: It’s really not a big deal. If we loved men more or less based on the state of their hair, we’d all have become lesbians in the eighties.

Debi Mazar, “10 Things You Don’t Know About Women,” Esquire, September 2008

Any time I hear a song or record that meant a lot to me at a certain moment or I was listening to at a distinct time, I’m instantly taken back to that place in full detail. Whenever I hear “Feel Flows” by the Beach Boys, I’m taken straight to the back of my parents’ car on the way to my grandparents’ place, fourteen with Surf’s Up in my Walkman and the Cascade Mountains going by in the window. .... I can ascribe exact memories to songs by the Microphones, Joni Mitchell, Built to Spill, Dungen, Harry Nilsson, and so many others, and it’s a form of recall that I can actually trust.

Robin Pecknold, April 6, 2008, from the liner notes of Fleet Foxes’ self-titled LP

Adapting a recipe from bits of others found online, I made lasagna tonight because I wanted a dinner featuring the sweet fennel sausage I’ve enjoyed at Frankies. I took the 1 down to Greenwich Village yesterday and bought a few links from the same shop Frankies gets theirs, Faicco’s Pork Store, “the finest sausage and Italian specialties since 1900.”

But that’s just an excuse because I like lasagna and would have made one regardless. When we were kids, my Mom had a super-shortcut version, which is not sexy but likely inspired by having three mewling, hungry children: she used spaghetti sauce and in addition to mozzarella, added cottage cheese. My recipe still has shortcuts: I didn’t use fancy cheese for any of the three types, and canned tomatoes I don’t have a problem with. I did use fresh basil although I had the bunch pushed too far back in my fridge and about 90% of it froze and wilted horribly. But there were enough surviving leaves for the recipe.

And I used wine (Montepulciano d’Abruzzo) that met my two strict criteria: cheapness ($8) and the first bottle I picked up that claimed its contents were “dry.” The label further claims that the wine pairs well with seafood, pasta (with “red sauce or cream sauce”), red or white meat, Asian food, pizza, hamburgers, Mexican food and “mild to strong cheeses.” Apparently it does not go well with hot dogs.

I have changes to consider next time. I would not put the Parmesan—or so much of it—on top. It browned well and I’ve always enjoyed crispy toppings in Pyrex-based oven-dinners but the cup of Parmesan ossified into a super-crème brûlée-like crust that was difficult to cut cleanly into orderly servings.

I would add more fresh basil or add it at a later point in the cooking. I couldn’t taste it well and wanted to: my idea was that it would be a crisp balance to the heaviness of all that meat, cheese and starch.

The amount of sausage may not seem like a lot to you—at Fiacco’s, a half-pound is a mere three bratwurst-sized links. But I think it was the perfect amount. I removed the casing and crumbled it up into pea-sized pieces to spread it around; I’m not a fan of tons of meat in lasagna. You get too much in there, as many recipes do, and you’re flirting with meatloaf that happens to have noodles in it.

The mozzarella all but disappeared. I may need to add more or add it to a layer apart from the ricotta, which survived (nicely) intact, but which I should have mixed with an egg (for better spreadability; plus, that’s traditional) and maybe some chopped parsley.

This theater group Kelly knows, the Anthropologists, canvassed Fort Washington today, collecting from passers-by six-word stories, a literary form that legend has originated with Hemingway. Then, this afternoon, in the luxuriously grassy front lawn of Fort Washington Collegiate Church, they acted-out improv mini-plays based on the stories. Curious and clever, and with free baked goods donated by a local bakery for refreshment; I had my first black-and-white cookie and it was good. Some photos I took of Kelly and Joe are, as of this writing, at the top of my Flickr page.

I am glad Allison informed me of New York Craft Beer Week, September 12 to 21, or my mood may have festered into regret. She, Jovito, Laura, Michael and I met, (simultaneously, as it turned out in an odd coincidence) at the Chelsea Brewing Company on Pier 59 for the Manhattan Cask Ale Festival. Around 45 “firkins” of craft-brewed, cask-conditioned ale at cellar temperature were available on a pay-as-you-go basis: at the door, we purchased “bingo cards” for $20. Each square on the card represented 50 cents and depending upon how much the cost of the specific beer or food item (they served satisfying bratwurst and pulled-pork sandwiches), that number of dollar boxes would be checked-off the sheet by the server.

I had a Blue Point Cherry Imperial Stout, from Patchogue, New York, sort of a fruit-beer/imperial stout hybrid that was my favorite. The Livery Herb Superb Black I.P.A. from Benton Harbor, Michigan, was lively with hops.The Brooklyn “Black Ops,” which I fear many people ordered solely based on the fact it had the third-highest ABV on the menu, tasted what I expect used motor oil tastes like. On the bright side, I wouldn’t have wanted to have saved the best for last, so I made the most of it and enjoyed a night of great drink, friends and views of New Jersey from our vantage on the east shore of the Hudson.

It is the mission of Tina and I to eat at every Mexican restaurant in New York City, starting with the Upper West Side. Cilantro, our choice this evening, was not bad. Simple touches, like plantain chips mixed in with the standard complimentary basket of tortilla chips with salsa, was a nice touch. Comprehensive magarita selection with various grades of tequilla. Sidewalk dining is an option there, if you like that sort of thing. We do.

Cilantro

• 485 Columbus Ave.
• (212) 712-9090
• Meal 44 of 52: a Patron Blanco margarita ($10) and a vegetable enchilada ($15).

Donald Trump’s daughter, Ivanka, was on my flight from Miami to New York City tonight. I knew this because I overheard a gaggle of TSA employees at Miami International Airport whispering that she’d just gone through security and was more polite than they’d expected.

“She has really nice shoes,” said one.

“She was wearing too much makeup,” said another.

I never did see Ivanka or notice her on the flight, although the next day a coworker on the same flight said, “Did you know who was on our flight last night?”

And I said, “Ivanka Trump?”

And he said, “Yeah! She was sitting in first class and got into a white stretch limo at JFK.”

I flew to Miami early this morning on business. Behind the hotel at which I’m staying downtown, two tugboats, one at each end of a giant barge, nudged the vessel into into place—they’re dredging the river to improve its use as a shipping channel. I thought this would involve a complex underwater procedure—robots, maybe. But no: there is an excavator sitting on the barge, its boom angling into the water to scoop up sediment. Not as exciting as I’d have thought.

Over the weekend, Toisha emailed me to ask what camera I’d used to take my photos from our camping expedition on Indian Lake. She’s planning on buying a camera and wanted to learn about the features and costs of the models used by various campers.

After some quick Googling, I was surprised to learn the Lomo LC-A is no longer in production. In fact, it was discontinued in 2005 and this was the first I’d heard of it. I bought mine as part of a “Deluxe Package,” which included a small hardcover book and a few rolls of Lomo-branded film, in October 2002 for $180, which I thought excessive at the time. Then it sat unused until Labor Day weekend 2007 when I dusted it off to take photos of our camping trip in Hickory Run State Park.

Unbeknownst to me, the Lomo LC-A was discontinued on May 1, 2005 due to rising labor and production costs. Pricing on the company’s remaining stock increased to $260 for the camera alone and $325 for the “Deluxe Package.” Original “dead stock” Lomo LC-As still seem to be available for $350, while the Chinese-made replacement model, the Lomo LC-A+, currently retails for $250.

Much of the brouhaha around the Lomo was that although it was admittedly a flimsy camera, it actually had a decent lens, made by LOMO, a storied Russian optics factory that manufactured gun sights during World War I and now makes telescopes and microscopes. To have the camera—and that lens—made in China—it’s just not the same.

So although I didn’t know it, I snuck in the door just as it was closing on the original Lomo.

Speaking at length with Ryan the bartender at Flatiron Lounge, on account of he and I being the only people in the place the whole hour-plus I was there, I turned the conversation to cocktails and got some tidbits of information and gossip.

1. Flatiron will likely release its Fall cocktail menu next week; they’re having an all-bartender powwow with Flatiron partner Julie Reiner on Tuesday or Wednesday, during which the bartenders get to present new creations; if a majority of bartenders and Julie like the drink, it goes on the menu. Nice.
2. There’s an unused chunk of Pegu Club that Audrey Saunders thought could be a VIP area but it’s been unused since the place opened. There’s a obscured partition near the restrooms that slides open to allow access to this back area, with room for 30 to 40 more seats. Apparently you can see the secret-room windows from Houston but they’re papered over. Secret rooms are cool
3. Beyond the usual suspects, Ryan’s recommendations for great new(ish) places to get cocktails are Tailor and Apotheke, the latter of which is a former Chinatown opium den that is now known for its cocktails made with homemade herb infusions and bitters
4. Ryan confirms Milk & Honey has changed its “secret” phone number for reservations. Reportedly, even local barkeeps were left in the dark and most of them still don’t have it. Although I was thinking, “Maybe it’s just YOU, Ryan, who doesn’t have the new number.”) Or he had it and didn’t want to give it to me.
5. Lenell’s may move to Manhattan. Apparently they’re having legal trouble with their lease renewal. That and they thirst for the big-time of Manhattan. Don’t we all.
6. Lenell herself has been trying to open a bar for some time and it will finally come to fruition in 2009 under the name “Mason Dixon Line” or somesuch. She wants the place to have an herb garden and live hens, so she can use fresh raw eggs in her drinks that require them. Hmm.

I attended Kate and Justin joint “welcome to our new apartment”/“we’re gettin’ hitched” shindig. Their new place is the top floor of a house in Astoria near Jackson Heights. Their tiny, shared front yard features decorative cement pineapples, big fake flowers and, as Kate points out, “a Jesus statue and a tiny secondary Jesus statue at the foot of the big, primary Jesus statue.” It was an easy place to find even though I was unfamiliar with the neighborhood.

We grilled hamburgers and such on their equally small patio out pack. It was my first time viewing what’s a staple for house-dwellers in Queens: the garages behind the houses are topped with tall steel poles. From the pole to the house is strung a clothesline on a pulley for line-drying freshly washed laundry. I’m told a certain generation of Queens-dweller has burned into his brain the distinctive squeak of rusty laundry-line pulleys.

When it began sprinkling, we retreated back around front and up the steep staircase to the top floor, where Kate and Justin have a large collection of defunct media (VHS and audiocassette tapes), wind-up tin toys, dolls, taxidermied alligator heads, a few animal skulls, a tangle of homemade mutant sock moneys, and various prints and paintings, including an etching of the Ebola virus that Kate made and was unsure what to do with. Everyone shouted at once: “Etsy!”

When we were good and drunk, we went to Chuck E. Cheese’s, where a kid can be a kid and apparently also brazenly steal your Skee-Ball the moment you’ve inserted your token into the machine. We bought a chocolate cake to-go and ate it with our beer and cocktails at a local Irish bar that was authentic in that it featured actual Irish drunks.

Burn After Reading reminded me of a more trifling and broadly comedic version of the Coen Bros.’ Fargo: dim schemers get in over their heads; some die horribly. I liked John Malkovich’s character the best; he is angry the entire movie and sputters at the stupidity he feels surrounds him. Also, he is responsible for the best, most shocked reaction from the audience, which at BAM where I saw the film tonight, crested from the front of the theater to the back in a wave of shock and horror, then exasperated laughter.

A dozen years ago, writer Cintra Wilson opened her epitaph for her best friend and lover, Kevin Gilbert, with the paragraph below. I’m reviving it because it’s wasted on the dead and it’s a good description of what my friends mean to me.

Certain people are like big good anchors in your life that hold you to the world, that give you a sense of exalted, meaningful belonging and true comradeship in the highest sense. They are co-conspirators, people who get all the jokes. When someone understands you that well, you can never truly feel alone in the world.

In Memoriam, Cintra Wilson, Salon, May 27, 1996

I recently realized that I can improve the humor and bite of my Facebook postings by merely omitting any emoticons I’d planned on using.

I believe that comment spam is god telling me to update my blog already.

Or he is directing me to visit websites for Viagra and pornography.

I got drinks at Clover Club and dinner at Pó with Allison tonight. Mario Batali was originally the chef-partner but now has no longer anything to do with the place and I’m guessing it’s better for it. I’m pretty sure we shared the white bean bruschetta and that I had the Spaghetti all’Amatriciana, made with onions, chilies and tomatoes but also “guanciale”—unsmoked bacon made from pig’s cheeks—which sounds right up my alley.

Pó

• 276 Smith St., Brooklyn
• (718) 875-1980
• Meal 43 of 52: white bean bruschetta ($2) and Spaghetti all’Amatriciana ($14).

Andrew, Jess and I took part in some more of my favorite New York things and some new ones. We had brunch at the French Roast. We wandered through Central Park where we saw goats in the zoo. At the Brooklyn Museum, we mulled over Judy Chicago’s famous feminist installation, The Dinner Party. Walked the boardwalk and rode the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island. Then we returned to Manhattan for a costly dinner of lobster rolls and assorted other seafood delights at Ed’s Lobster Bar and dessert at Cafe Lalo.

Bonus photos: Mine are here and Andrew’s are here.

Andrew, Jess and I took the subway to Williamsburg for brunch/lunch with cocktails at the Roebling Tea Room, followed by a trip to Buffalo Exchange for thrifting. Upon arriving at Beacon’s Closet for more thrifting, we reached an executive decision: Jess would shop and the menfolk would stride briskly across the street to the Brooklyn Brewery for the free tour and, uh, beer. We timed it right, as it began pouring down rain soon afterwards. The tour was static and boring and it turns out the Brewery bottles most of its stuff upstate. I did learn that Milton Glaser designed the BB logo and has a tiny stake in the company. Plus, he gets free beer for life. At least according to our guide. The most of our time was spent quaffing plastic cups of beer from a large, communal table area of the brewery set up much like a beer hall. It was pleasantly crowded with much people watching. I don’t know much about cask ales but I believe the best beer the Brooklyn Brewery makes is a cask ale called Blast. Andrew and I enjoyed several glasses of it. It’s a double IPA, so it’s muscular (nearing double-digit ABV), sharp, hoppy and rich, yet paradoxically but pleasantly smooth, with a nice head. Alas, or maybe not for the sake of my moderation, they don’t bottle it—it’s only available on tap at the brewery and select bars.

Afterwards, we trudged through the rain and made our way to Carroll Gardens for dinner with Allison, Beth and Mike at Frankies, followed by cocktails at Clover Club.

My brother Andrew and his wife Jess arrived late last night from Wyoming to visit me for the weekend. For breakfast, we headed to Clinton St. Baking Company for stacks of pancakes. Whether they are the best in Manhattan is open for debate but the warm maple butter served on the side was welcome. Andrew had the wild Maine blueberry variety and I opted for the banana-walnut. We conducted a lot of browsing and shopping in SoHo and thereabouts, and checked out the Salvador Dalí exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. I enjoyed the unexpected video clips looped on giant screens, representing the best of non-static Dalí: the unfinished Disney cartoon, Destino (completed and released posthumously in 2003), the dream sequence from Hitchcock’s Spellbound and, with director Luis Buñuel, Un Chien Andalou. For dinner, we dined expensively at Craft.

Clinton St. Baking Company

• 4 Clinton Street (between East Houston and Stanton)
• (646) 602-6263
• Meal 42 of 52: pancakes ($12) and a side of grilled chorizo ($4).

My goal in watching John McCain’s presidential nomination acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention tonight was to spot a spelling error on a hand-lettered sign in the crowd. Sure enough, I caught one with “Mavrick” that at least one other person noticed. Mission accomplished.

I still don’t like Campari.

Indian Lake is quiet and meditative. Not only is it in the middle of nowhere (no one has had a lick of cellular reception since arriving here Saturday afternoon), most of the other campers have departed by today to return to work, some from our group but mostly from other sites.

I sat on the rocks at the southeastern edge of our island this morning and watched a pair of ducks take off from the lake at least 100 yards away and I could hear their wings flapping. Other than that and the wind in the pines, there was silence.

We had to be off the island by 11:00 a.m. so we weren’t able to cram in much more activity than breaking-down and packing-up both campsites, breakfast, sandwich prep (for lunching on the road) and a bit of skinny dipping.

Before we left, I asked the old guy at the marina shop (not the same guy who’d warned us of beaver fever) to recount the history behind the name “Indian Lake.”

“Whelp,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “I’d guess it has something to do with Indians.”

Other than taking an hour scenic route, as my dad used to call them, during which our Google Mapped directions got away from us, the drive back to the city was uneventful. The van passengers got cellular service back at about the same time and our van was a flurry of digital tones, texting and returned calls (“You have [pause] 12 [pause] new messages.”) It signaled an unsubtle shock back into civilization; although Manhattan is also an island, I’m hyperaware it’s everything our Indian Lake island was not: loud and crowded and with garbage floating in the water at its shores. I have a feeling I’ll adjust. Eventually.

Bonus: You can check out the camping photos I took with my Lomo LC-A in a set on my Flickr page.

Norana patched a hole in my khakis with the emergency sewing kit in Vincent’s well-stocked first aid kit. Apparently I had crouched and split a seam from just under my fly on down. Someone said, “Did you know you have a hole in your pants?” and I said, “Yeah, these are my camping pants, so they have a few holes...” and I looked down and realized I’d been unknowingly flashing a large portion of my boxer-briefs to everyone for an indeterminate length of time.

This afternoon, Megan and I swam to the eastern shore of the lake. Although that might be an understatement because at some point between childhood and now, I’ve forgotten how to swim. So I pulled on an orange life vest and sort of bobbed, kicked and doggy paddled my way over. It was exhausting. We stopped a few times to sun ourselves on the craggy mini-islands that poke from the lake and I got myself a nice sunburn on my head, shoulders and back.

For dinner, we made one of most ingenious campfire entrées ever: personal pizzas. Butter or olive-oil both sides of a round of pita or nan. Grill one side over red-hot coals. Pile sauce, toppings and cheese atop the grilled side. (We had garlic we’d roasted on the fire, onions, tomato sauce, canned tomatoes, pepperoni, portabella mushrooms and a few different kinds of shredded cheese.) The pizzas are then covered with tinfoil and returned to grill, ungrilled side down and cover. About 10 minutes later, the crusts were crisp, the cheese melted and they were ready to eat.

Afterwards, each person around the campfire relayed a favorite joke or two but I couldn’t think of one. As I write this entry a few days later, I realize I do know one joke, so I suppose it’s my favorite. Here it is:

An American businessman gets into a cab in Mexico City, gives the driver his destination and takes his seat. The cabbie rockets off and immediately speeds through a red traffic light.

“Are you crazy?” says the suit. “The light was red!”

“It’s okay,” says the cabbie. “My brother does it all the time.”

Just as the businessman’s heart rate returns to normal, the cabbie blows through a second red light.

“Jesus! That one was red half a block ago!”

“Relax,” assures the cabbie. “My brother does it all the time.”

So the cab approaches a green traffic light. And the cabbie brings the car to a halt.

“Now what!” screams the businessman. “The light’s clearly green!”

The cabbie settles back unpeturbed and says, “My brother might be coming.”

Megan, Josh and I are the only remaining campers at the southern end of the island, so we took a canoe ride back together. Somewhat addled by Jack Daniel’s, we turned off our lantern and our flashlight and let the wind and current carry us down the lake. With Megan at the bow and Josh at the stern, I rested on my back on the bottom of the canoe and the three of us stared up at this dome of constellations and tried to describe the grandeur of it and we couldn’t. Instead we lowballed it and murmured things like “awesome” and the only comparison I could make was to a planetarium, except that this firmament enveloped body and soul and made me feel comfortably small. And other than our own sounds, all we could hear was the aluminum of the boat gently cleaving water. Huckleberry Finn said it best:

Sometimes we’d have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest time. .... It’s lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky, up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made, or only just happened...