R.I.P. Lenny!

Seeing that all I know about the Criminal Justice System, and raw cop banter I learn from Lenny Brisco, I feel the need to post about his death.

Jerry, you have entertained us with your comic timing, enormous head, and muppet-facial-expressions for years. You will be missed. TNT will certainly leave your flame burning for years to come with it's back to back episodes, 24 hour marathons, and new classics.

Godspeed.

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Anar: "oh yeah. beautiful syrian dialup."

My friend Anar is rocking her studies right now in Damascus. I hear from her pretty regularly via IM, but I just wanted to raise a shout out to a true international jet-setter.

When asked how she will be celebrating her holiday this year, she informed me that she heading over to Beirut for a stint.

She's recently returned from Jordan. Check her out, no seriously, check her out.

You are going to want to know this girl, cause she's f'n awesome!

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Times S?uare Shu??le

Having a small commute every morning (since I'm working outside the home...jeeerrrrrks), I have begun to take note of the question wrapped up in the enigma stuffed into the smelly sock that is The Times Square Shuttle. There are a few things about that I find fascinating. And I thought I would share this with you.

For you who don't know, the Times Square Shuttle (S), is a train with one single purpose, to shuttle (hence the name) commuters between the east and west side of the city from Grand Central Station to Times Square. There are no other stops.

First point of curiosity, There are 3 trains, but 4 tracks. The shuttle has three separate trains that on three separate tracks, but they are numbered 1, 3, 4. What happened to 2? There's no evidence of it. No signs that allude to it...nothing. It simply doesn't exist. Perhaps it's a 9 3/4 type thing of Potter fame? Prolly not.

Second. The tracks run from point A to point B and back again. I've been at the front watching the track. There are no turn offs. So, how'd they get the trains down there? I first assumed that they might have built them down there, like how they get equipment into mine shafts. So, it just dawned on me, and I will confirm this tomorrow, but to access track 4, you cross over a bunch of strange metal plates...I bet those come off revealing tracks to the 1/2/3/9 line.

Third, and this is more a piece of fascination. There is no indicator from 10 feet and further that the doors are going to close, but it's amazing to see the people start out slow, and as they get closer, speed up. It's like the train is some sort of electro-human-magnet and the closer they get, the more attractive they get. I fall victim to this all the time. It sucks when you run to catch a train that's not going anywhere.

That's why I check my watch when I get on...so it seems like I'm in a wicked rush.

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How To Avoid Shaving Your Tongue.

A few days ago, I got my Art Director friend and myself a hot chocolate. When I delivered the refreshments, I began to sip away while Shane, patient as a pea, kept on working.

After half my potation was gone I commented that I felt as if I needed to shave my tongue, due to the layer of cocoa sludge that settled on the back of it.

Shane said "That's why I let mine cool down. When I drink it, I won't have that problem."

I took in the information, and filed it away as interesting factoid. Tonight, it's proven true. Since I forgot about my tea, I ended up drinking it after it cooled down. Result: Fuzz free tongue! [Thanks Shane]

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Back Up Your Hardware.

With my recent trials and tribulations due to a rotten airport card, I discovered a problem innate to a world of wireless wonderment.

When I purchased my new hotness, I opted for the bluetooth mouse and keyboard. The Problem is problems.

Running Apple's hardware tool kit requires you to boot off the CD drive. This is the same for Norton, Drive10 and Tech Tools etc. All these products run of a rudimentary system on the disk. None of those systems will recognize your bluetooth paring.

So in an effort to reduce my desktop wireage, I had increase my closet junkage. I need to have a backup USB keyboard and a backup mouse. While these don't take up a lot of space, I still think it sucks. Especially because my old keyboard doesn't have a recognized key layout with the new system (even though the keyboard it's an Apple), so I needed to run out and buy a new usb keyboard.

The other interesting problem is that if your mouse/keyboard starts running low on batteries, it starts to do craaaazy things. Like moving randomly or not recognizing a released key. Very Poltergeist.

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Its unf'king believable. Seriously. I mean really.

In the long standing tradition of dealing with Time Warner, I have had no trouble with my connection all week, but they/I insisted on sending someone anyway.

The dude came in, changed my third party coupler to one from Time Warner, and now I'm on the fritz again. So lets tally that up....

15 :Number of Time Warner Techs in/around my apartment
52 :Number of phone calls to Time Warner (connected or given up)
12 :Number of splitters, couplers and barrels put on my line since the problem
3 :Number of formen sent for the problem
2 :Number of minutes the automated operator said until the next available rep
54 :Number of minutes I've waited to speak to someone
3 :Number of people I repeated the story to on that call
1 :Problems with my internet connection
0 :Problems solved

I should say that they are giving me concessions for my shotty service, but I've resorted to suggesting a compromise. For 80% of my service, I will pay 80% of my bill etc. until its fixed. A percentage point is calculated by the number of reboots a day multiplied by the minutes lost in work. So far, by my calculations, they owe me $4,328.23.

Anyone using RCN? And how's that going?

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What else, what else, what else...Catch Up.

Where to begin, where to begin. Well, first, sorry about not writing for a while. I was working on a huge project with a heavy deadline and yada yada yada, here I am.

It turns out that Macy's shuts down my block, among others, to blow up their balloons for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. So up and down my block were giant characters from shows I have never seen. I mean what ever happened to Underdog, Garfield and Bullwinkle? The f'ked up thing was that out my window, three floors up, I was eye level with Pikachu. I felt like Fay Wray.

Thanksgiving itself was great. I finally got to meet David's dog Oliver. He's a Labradoodle. Which looks like a blonde permed-up lab. Dinner was excellent and the company divine.

That same weekend was my 10th year High School Reunion. Now if you read my previous post about this, you might recall, I had very little interest in going. But, after some brilliant coercing by Robin and David, I forked over the sixty bucks and made plans to attend the event.

It was f'ked up. Fuuuucked up! I haven't felt like I didn't belong some where that bad since, I don't know....high school.

My friend Mark had a plan, and excellent plan at that. He staked out a position and held his ground, waiting for anyone to come find him to talk. It worked out well. He saw a smattering of people, conversed for a while, and was done with them.

Me? I tried my best not to make too much eye contact. The group that I did speak to had actually changed pretty significantly. Bohemians to business women, geeks to power attorneys, pot enthusiasts to future doctors.

The best part had to be when I arrived, the welcoming committee, whom I would assume would know each face as they walked in, or after a couple of seconds at least, had no idea who I was. After two failed guesses, my welcomer needed to get a consult. Itsa the besta siixty dollor you evera spent.

The party before was great, and the evening after, a riot.

Whatelse, whatelse, whatelse. - Oh, my G5 is up and running finally. Though I think my Airport Card might still be a bitch.

And finally, what better way to usher in the new month than with another appointment with the good people at Time Warner. While they've assured me that I should be all sorted out today, I'm looking forward to future appointments like a child on Christmas morn. Or so I'm told.

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