Scribbles and Photos

It's another beautiful morning in New York City -- September 11, 2011.  The 9/11 memorial located at the site of the World Trade Center is opening as the names of the dead are being read.  Moments of silence are being observed.  Water is cascading down into the reflecting pools like the tears that streamed down our faces that day and in the days that have followed. The bell is tolling right now -- marking the strike on the Pentagon.  On TV, elected officials alternate with the families of the deceased.  James Taylor is on hand to sing  Close Your Eyes as he quietly strums his guitar.  Something hopeful yet sad about those lyrics -- "you can sing this song when I'm gone." The names of those who were lost are engraved on the walls surrounding the pools.   The children of the rescuers are making rubbings of their names while wearing their parents' hats.  Others stand mutely with pictures or flags and stare deep into the reflecting pool...

Cheek to Cheek (Tanzania) The last Saturday in July was one of those lazy summer days where I was spending my time doing not much of anything.  The kind of day where the most pressing thing on my mind is whether there was an episode of Law & Order (any variety) that I hadn't seen yet.  Picture me, ensconced on my nice soft couch weighing the watching of television with a long walk in the heat. At some point in my channel trolling, I stumbled across an infomercial for a DVD set that would teach me the ins and outs of Zumba.  For those of you who, like me, have been living under a rock, Zumba is a dance exercise program craze that has been sweeping the country.   I had recently spent some time visiting with Lisa who is one of my oldest and dearest friends and who is now a CERTIFIED Zumba teacher and skinny.  So, I paused on it (of course the caloric restriction (hmm, deprivation?) piece of this was in small print at the bottom of the screen and easily ...

Coronado Beach Calm On most days, Coronado Island is not the locus for big waves.  But sometimes, nature delivers big surf in the most unexpected places.  That’s the kind of day to take the camera out, screw on the biggest zoom lens I own and saunter off down the sand.  It’s a day to wade into the water and let it crash around my thighs.  It’s a day to dig my toes a little deeper against the strong pull of the undertow that wants me to come out to sea to play for a while in the roller coaster ride of the next big wave.  Click.  Click. Click.  Crash. Crash. Crash.  I wonder if it would ever get old if I lived at the beach and could frolic on the sand whenever I pleased.  Ah, that would be the life – falling asleep and waking up to the ebb and flow of the surf crashing on the shore.   It would need to be a desolate beach – one that was hard to get to so I could have it all to myself all of the time.  Coronado ...

Bedewed in Shakespeare's Garden I am escaping New York on the cusp of a lock down due to 2011’s first monster tropical storm – Hurricane Irene.   This time, my wanderlust is taking me to a well-loved stomping ground, the California coast where I’ll be hanging with the ladies (Jackie, Nancy, and Cora).   The trip was well-timed (phew) with JFK slated to shut down today at noon and NYC already on a lock down.   It is as if Mayor Bloomberg wants to make up for all of the failures during the monster blizzard that closed out 2010 – the one that delayed my escape to Africa . The move on the flight today was Water for Elephants – a film adaptation of one of my favorite modern novels.   A love story set within a traveling circus.   Once I got over Reese Witherspoon and Robert Patterson being cast as star-crossed lovers, I settled in for what was an almost flawless film adaptation.   That is high praise from me – it is only the second time that I’ve s...

Delicate Purple  I am somewhere over the continental United States heading towards Hawaii on vacation.   I’ve been traveling since 6:00 am this morning (EDT) and it’s 4:07 EDT.   I have been doing some work writing and so am wondering if a day spent on a plan primarily doing work really counts as a vacation day. Truth be told, planes are one of the few places these days where I find the peace and quiet I need to write – maybe I should fly to Hawaii more often. Around me, people are sleeping peacefully in – I guess – something of a mid-day nap since it’s probably about that time in Hawaii .   Four hours to go on this flight and then the joy of being in paradise for the next two weeks.   Life doesn’t get better then this. Or does it? Recently, as I sat with two friends that I respect very much, the conversation turned away from work and towards the meaning of that work and what one may be giving up to do it. As my younger friend remarked, “when...

Central Park Reservoir Ok, I'll admit it, I was a little oblivious to all the talk of May 21, 2011 being Judgement Day.  My life has been hectic these past several weeks what with a major meeting and then our office was moving .   When I woke up on that Saturday morning, I did wonder aloud what I should do with my last day on earth.  One would think that I would have wanted to go out with a bang.   Clubbing anyone? Instead I had a quiet day of the sort I like at home - a lot of photography, a brisk enough walk, a little napping, and a Glee marathon. I don't really get "Glee" when I watch a single episode but i am drawn in if I stumble upon it late on a weekend afternoon and there are oodles of episodes all in a row.  There is something about the zany little Universe that encompasses the show that just captures my attention.  The whole premise is mad genius -- that is for sure.  It is a slightly off-kilter version of high school that hits ...

It's a little odd sitting in an office that has been denuded of all my personal possessions as we wait for the witching hour -- 5:00 pm when the freight elevators are magically available for our "big" office move. I am sitting in a chair that tilts a little bit to the left.  It's old and worn and being left behind as we march down Manhattan to our new digs.  Hard to believe but we've been here 11 years and five months.  The chair has served me well. I remember like it was yesterday our move into this office back in December 1999.  We were coming from a space we had outgrown on the upper East side of New York City.  That office -- unlike the office I am sitting in now -- had the advantage of being just across the street from Bloomingdale's and just above Gino's .  Gino's was a great NYC institution -- an all-cash Italian restaurant with grumpy Italian waiters from the old country.  It closed last year -- a victim of a landlord's desire to make m...