At the beginning of the summer, I rode my bike from the Lower East Side to the New York Public Library -- the research branch on 40th Street and Fifth Avenue. It was a hair-raising ride accompanied by aggressive cab drivers, city buses disgorging passengers going in all directions, and in fact vast numbers of pedestrians doing all kinds of crazy things. I kind of felt lucky to get home alive.
So I emailed the Transportation Commissioner, Janette Sadik-Khan, to tell her the city needs more bike access to midtown. Since she was appointed to the position by Mayor Bloomberg in 2007, she's been a huge advocate for cyclists. Eventually, between responding to criticism of new bike lanes, she had a chance to get back to me with an email message that was mostly boilerplate about how many new miles of bike lanes the city has installed in the past half a decade, but concluded by acknowledging that Midtown ... needs work.
On the plus side, I recently cycled from 181st Street all the way down to West 10th Street. The last time I did that ride, there were parks along sections of the river, but between them, you had to go out into the street or through a parking lot, or you could choose between street and a dirt path a couple feet above the water.
Now, it's a wonderful, uninterrupted path from one end of Manhattan to the other. What a great ride.
06 September 2011
05 September 2011
Aftermath
Turns out it was in fact an even dozen trees that came down near us during Irene. Seven in the courtyard between the next building and the FDR drive; two in the sidewalk just north of the courtyard, and three more in Corlears Hook Park, across the street to the south.
Part of the fence by 455 FDR Drive. The workers cleaned up the bus shelter nearby with a shovel -- the glass was pulverized.
There was a bench here. Thankfully, there weren't any people under any of those trees, and given the number of trees down and the amount of flooding all up and down the eastern seaboard, it's a wonder more people weren't hurt.
Those would be historic bricks, the remains of a dockyard on the location until the land was cleared for park space at the end of the nineteenth century.
This one was 75 years old, give or take.
28 August 2011
Back to School Un-Shopping
Junk mail, advertising, email alerts. Everyone is telling you that you need to go shopping to stock up for school.
But do you really need everything you think you need?
Kids outgrow stuff, it's true. But you know what? Last winter's clothes still fit The Offsrping, so that's what he'll wear until the next overnight growth spurt. (I bought the next size up on sale last spring, so worry not: he won't have to go to school in high-waters until I catch up.) Last year's backpack and lunchbox are still perfectly functional.
And yes, they need school supplies. We're lucky: our school has a program where all parents are asked to contribute a fixed fee, and the school buys everything in bulk, so we don't have to go schlepping around Staples in August.
They also need supplies to do homework. The easiest thing would be to go through The Offspring's room and throw away everything to buy new stuff, rather than sorting through broken crayons and dried-out pens and locating the pencil sharpener and the scissors and the ruler. But I'm going to spend an hour doing it that way. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need to buy a couple new glue sticks, because I know I used one up making a photo album a couple months ago, and it might be time for a big-kid pair of scissors, as he's going into third grade -- but that's probably it.
The Mate and I are also both on academic schedules, which might imply we need back-to-school wardrobes. But he's a filmmaker, and teaches his classes in jeans. I go more formal, but I buy clothing that will last for a long time. I did make one new purchase: a pair of bike-to-work pants from Betabrand with reflective fabric inside the cuffs and back pockets.
Question for the day, then: Will that item actually get used if you buy it and bring it home? Corollary question: do you already have something at home that will serve the purpose?
But do you really need everything you think you need?
Kids outgrow stuff, it's true. But you know what? Last winter's clothes still fit The Offsrping, so that's what he'll wear until the next overnight growth spurt. (I bought the next size up on sale last spring, so worry not: he won't have to go to school in high-waters until I catch up.) Last year's backpack and lunchbox are still perfectly functional.
And yes, they need school supplies. We're lucky: our school has a program where all parents are asked to contribute a fixed fee, and the school buys everything in bulk, so we don't have to go schlepping around Staples in August.
They also need supplies to do homework. The easiest thing would be to go through The Offspring's room and throw away everything to buy new stuff, rather than sorting through broken crayons and dried-out pens and locating the pencil sharpener and the scissors and the ruler. But I'm going to spend an hour doing it that way. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need to buy a couple new glue sticks, because I know I used one up making a photo album a couple months ago, and it might be time for a big-kid pair of scissors, as he's going into third grade -- but that's probably it.
The Mate and I are also both on academic schedules, which might imply we need back-to-school wardrobes. But he's a filmmaker, and teaches his classes in jeans. I go more formal, but I buy clothing that will last for a long time. I did make one new purchase: a pair of bike-to-work pants from Betabrand with reflective fabric inside the cuffs and back pockets.
Question for the day, then: Will that item actually get used if you buy it and bring it home? Corollary question: do you already have something at home that will serve the purpose?
27 August 2011
Hurricane Conditions: Park Closed Today
The East River Park, that is. It's in Zone A, as is the FDR drive, which runs about 250 feet from my apartment building.
But I'm a dumb cluck, like so many of my fellow human beings, so I ignored the sign and went into the park anyway. The rain and the wind were at a lull at the time, plus the dog likes his routine.
Things of note:
It was just past high tide, and the water was very high, and running very fast; faster, I think, than I've ever seen it. It's not going to take much to push it over the low points in the city's seawalls at tomorrow morning's high tide, after a night of heavy rain and wind.
It's quiet out there. No subway roaring over the Williamsburg Bridge overhead, no ferries on the water, no buses creaking along the streets. I heard, then saw, one lone truck cross the bridge; otherwise, just a handful of cars.
A bunch of them were police cars, though. With lights flashing, in a hurry to get someplace. Wonder what's up.
The construction workers involved in the unending project to renovate the East River Park have loaded a bunch of extra equipment onto Uncle Leo, and parked him four feet or so away from the sea wall. Somehow, this doesn't seem adequate. But I have to assume they know what they're doing.
Also: the gulls. I noticed during the big snowstorms last winter that the gulls would come in astonishing numbers to take refuge in the East River Park ballfields. This evening, they are circling, circling, low over the water.
The wind picked up, and the rain resumed, and I was glad to be able to go home and get dry.
But I'm a dumb cluck, like so many of my fellow human beings, so I ignored the sign and went into the park anyway. The rain and the wind were at a lull at the time, plus the dog likes his routine.
Things of note:
It was just past high tide, and the water was very high, and running very fast; faster, I think, than I've ever seen it. It's not going to take much to push it over the low points in the city's seawalls at tomorrow morning's high tide, after a night of heavy rain and wind.
It's quiet out there. No subway roaring over the Williamsburg Bridge overhead, no ferries on the water, no buses creaking along the streets. I heard, then saw, one lone truck cross the bridge; otherwise, just a handful of cars.
A bunch of them were police cars, though. With lights flashing, in a hurry to get someplace. Wonder what's up.
The construction workers involved in the unending project to renovate the East River Park have loaded a bunch of extra equipment onto Uncle Leo, and parked him four feet or so away from the sea wall. Somehow, this doesn't seem adequate. But I have to assume they know what they're doing.
Also: the gulls. I noticed during the big snowstorms last winter that the gulls would come in astonishing numbers to take refuge in the East River Park ballfields. This evening, they are circling, circling, low over the water.
The wind picked up, and the rain resumed, and I was glad to be able to go home and get dry.
Disaster Shopping
In the face of worst-case-scenario planning from public officials up and down the eastern seaboard, people are shopping like crazy to stock up in case they run out of power. And I wonder: how much of that stuff is going to get used? How much is going to go straight to the landfill after the storm passes?
The mayors and governors aren't wrong: they need to plan for problems. But do people really need to buy that much stuff to prepare? Are people's kitchens and refrigerators really completely empty? Or am I the rarity, in that I have a large kitchen cabinet full of food?
Yes, I'll cook today, in case the power goes out later. A big pot of soup, maybe some rice, maybe some grits. An extra pot of coffee, in case the I can't boil water tomorrow morning. I've already filled several containers with filtered water; I'll fill the tub later after everyone has showered.
We have plenty of candles and matches in the house, and a handful of flashlights of one sort or another ... but it's not far from midsummer, and there's going to be plenty of daylight, too.
Disaster planning should involve making good use of what's already around one's home -- which includes, first and foremost, the brains inside our heads.
The mayors and governors aren't wrong: they need to plan for problems. But do people really need to buy that much stuff to prepare? Are people's kitchens and refrigerators really completely empty? Or am I the rarity, in that I have a large kitchen cabinet full of food?
Yes, I'll cook today, in case the power goes out later. A big pot of soup, maybe some rice, maybe some grits. An extra pot of coffee, in case the I can't boil water tomorrow morning. I've already filled several containers with filtered water; I'll fill the tub later after everyone has showered.
We have plenty of candles and matches in the house, and a handful of flashlights of one sort or another ... but it's not far from midsummer, and there's going to be plenty of daylight, too.
Disaster planning should involve making good use of what's already around one's home -- which includes, first and foremost, the brains inside our heads.
26 August 2011
Getting off the Plastic Wagon
I'm a little obsessed with plastic, as I might have mentioned once or twice.
In recent months, I've made some progress at getting plastic out of my life, but there's still work to be done.
On the down side, Tom's of Maine made the switch from an aluminum toothpaste tube to plastic this year, and I've been looking for an alternative. For one thing, the tube is made out of plastic, and for another thing, the fact that it's made out of plastic makes is more difficult to get all the toothpaste out of the tube.
Ideally, I want tooth powder (no need to ship water), and fluoride is important* because I want to keep The Offspring's teeth healthy, and so far I've struck out. I bought a package of toothpaste from Burt's Bees today, in the hopes that it would be aluminum (the box was glued shut, so I couldn't check) but no dice.
On the up side, Burt's makes a deodorant to which I'm now devoted. Powered by sage, so no potentially toxic chemicals; totally works even if I ride my bike around with layers of clothing on; packaged in an aluminum can.** Only the pump mechanism is plastic.
Also on the up side, I've gotten more in the habit of putting food leftovers in glass instead of plastic containers. I looked at some lovely stainless steel lunch containers at Whole Foods, but the price put me off. Maybe next year on those.
I'm washing dishes with bar soap, specifically Dr. Bronner's citrus-flavored one. I keep it next to the sink in a metal soap dish. Nice soapy water collects under the drain section, and this is handy, though I can also just rub the bar of soap on a sponge or directly on a dirty dish, if I need more power.
I haven't yet persuaded The Mate to make the switch from liquid soap packaged in a plastic bottle; I'll keep working at that one. Maybe when we run out of the liquid he'll give it a try.
-----
* I know, I know, there are those who think fluoride is irrelevant, harmful, or a liberal conspiracy. I would welcome comments, however, from anyone who knows where I can get toothbrushing powder.
** In case you're wondering, here's the full list of ingredients: alcohol, sage extract, lavender oil, lemon oil. Yes, that's it. Full stop.
In recent months, I've made some progress at getting plastic out of my life, but there's still work to be done.
On the down side, Tom's of Maine made the switch from an aluminum toothpaste tube to plastic this year, and I've been looking for an alternative. For one thing, the tube is made out of plastic, and for another thing, the fact that it's made out of plastic makes is more difficult to get all the toothpaste out of the tube.
Ideally, I want tooth powder (no need to ship water), and fluoride is important* because I want to keep The Offspring's teeth healthy, and so far I've struck out. I bought a package of toothpaste from Burt's Bees today, in the hopes that it would be aluminum (the box was glued shut, so I couldn't check) but no dice.
On the up side, Burt's makes a deodorant to which I'm now devoted. Powered by sage, so no potentially toxic chemicals; totally works even if I ride my bike around with layers of clothing on; packaged in an aluminum can.** Only the pump mechanism is plastic.
Also on the up side, I've gotten more in the habit of putting food leftovers in glass instead of plastic containers. I looked at some lovely stainless steel lunch containers at Whole Foods, but the price put me off. Maybe next year on those.
I'm washing dishes with bar soap, specifically Dr. Bronner's citrus-flavored one. I keep it next to the sink in a metal soap dish. Nice soapy water collects under the drain section, and this is handy, though I can also just rub the bar of soap on a sponge or directly on a dirty dish, if I need more power.
I haven't yet persuaded The Mate to make the switch from liquid soap packaged in a plastic bottle; I'll keep working at that one. Maybe when we run out of the liquid he'll give it a try.
-----
* I know, I know, there are those who think fluoride is irrelevant, harmful, or a liberal conspiracy. I would welcome comments, however, from anyone who knows where I can get toothbrushing powder.
** In case you're wondering, here's the full list of ingredients: alcohol, sage extract, lavender oil, lemon oil. Yes, that's it. Full stop.
25 August 2011
The Kindle Update You've Been Waiting For...
... with bated breath.
I've been using Kindle quite a bit; I've uploaded numerous books for The Mate, The Offspring, and myself, including some essays for an academic article I'm currently writing and a couple of things that might be helpful in teaching and advisement.
I find reading the "digital ink" screen very soothing to my eyes, and I like being able to customize the type size and line spacing so I can cram quite a bit of text onto a single page. (I read fast. Very fast. Having to turn the pages really really fast in the "page-turner" section of Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves was a cute little joke, but it also got kind of annoying.)
But I'm also still buying hard copies of books.
Yesterday I biked over to The Strand to pick up some half-price books. On for The Offspring, two for The Mate, and one for me: a pre-release copy of Laurie R. King's newest book, The Pirate King. Most of the rest of the world has to wait until September 6 to get it in hardcover or on Kindle, but I started reading my copy last night.
Right now, a box containing most of the books in the Redwall series arrived from Better World Books. The Offspring will tear into it the minute he gets home.
Why Kindle? Why "real" book?
It depends on two things: availability and price. Redwall, the first book in that series, came out in 1986, and you can't get it on Kindle. The series is being reissued in a fancier paperback version, but I got the backlist used at $3 a pop. Given the speed with which The Offspring reads, price is not insignificant.
The article I'm writing is about blogging and academic identities. I'm reading a lot on my computer for this project, as usual with academic writing, though I've downloaded a few reports from Harvard on identity and new media to Kindle. Oddly enough, the book Uses of Blogs: Digital Formations is available only in hard copy. It came out in 2006, though, which in blogging history is pretty much light-years away.
It is theoretically possible to download pdf's to Kindle. I haven't tried it yet; I usually just use the computer screen for those. I assume the Kindle software must reconfigure pdf's for their screen, but I just keep imagining tiny, tiny pages.
The other issue is annotations. I've tried the annotation feature on Kindle, but the keyboard is, well, there's that word "tiny" again. Also, when I read articles while working on an academic project, I have a couple windows open at a time so I can take notes in one while reading in another. I'm going to have to take notes off these articles in Kindle soon, but I anticipate it's going to be awkward.
The other issue is cost of documents. It seems utterly reasonable to me that as backlist gets more distant from publication date, the cost of the eBook should drop with the cost of paper copies. But (so far anyway) that doesn't seem to be the case.
That said, there's plenty to read for free or cheap. Amazon offers links to gazillions of free "classics" (running the gamut from Jane Austen to Zane Grey, Aristotle to War and Peace). I could go the rest of my life reading just books I can download for free.
I've been using Kindle quite a bit; I've uploaded numerous books for The Mate, The Offspring, and myself, including some essays for an academic article I'm currently writing and a couple of things that might be helpful in teaching and advisement.
I find reading the "digital ink" screen very soothing to my eyes, and I like being able to customize the type size and line spacing so I can cram quite a bit of text onto a single page. (I read fast. Very fast. Having to turn the pages really really fast in the "page-turner" section of Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves was a cute little joke, but it also got kind of annoying.)
But I'm also still buying hard copies of books.
Yesterday I biked over to The Strand to pick up some half-price books. On for The Offspring, two for The Mate, and one for me: a pre-release copy of Laurie R. King's newest book, The Pirate King. Most of the rest of the world has to wait until September 6 to get it in hardcover or on Kindle, but I started reading my copy last night.
Right now, a box containing most of the books in the Redwall series arrived from Better World Books. The Offspring will tear into it the minute he gets home.
Why Kindle? Why "real" book?
It depends on two things: availability and price. Redwall, the first book in that series, came out in 1986, and you can't get it on Kindle. The series is being reissued in a fancier paperback version, but I got the backlist used at $3 a pop. Given the speed with which The Offspring reads, price is not insignificant.
The article I'm writing is about blogging and academic identities. I'm reading a lot on my computer for this project, as usual with academic writing, though I've downloaded a few reports from Harvard on identity and new media to Kindle. Oddly enough, the book Uses of Blogs: Digital Formations is available only in hard copy. It came out in 2006, though, which in blogging history is pretty much light-years away.
It is theoretically possible to download pdf's to Kindle. I haven't tried it yet; I usually just use the computer screen for those. I assume the Kindle software must reconfigure pdf's for their screen, but I just keep imagining tiny, tiny pages.
The other issue is annotations. I've tried the annotation feature on Kindle, but the keyboard is, well, there's that word "tiny" again. Also, when I read articles while working on an academic project, I have a couple windows open at a time so I can take notes in one while reading in another. I'm going to have to take notes off these articles in Kindle soon, but I anticipate it's going to be awkward.
The other issue is cost of documents. It seems utterly reasonable to me that as backlist gets more distant from publication date, the cost of the eBook should drop with the cost of paper copies. But (so far anyway) that doesn't seem to be the case.
That said, there's plenty to read for free or cheap. Amazon offers links to gazillions of free "classics" (running the gamut from Jane Austen to Zane Grey, Aristotle to War and Peace). I could go the rest of my life reading just books I can download for free.
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