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Archive for August, 2008

Political Pleasantries

Posted by evankessler on August 27, 2008

In lieu of this week’s Democratic National Convention, about the only thing rolling off anyone’s tongue has been related to the impending presidential election…and with good reason, it on my birthday and is only two plus months away. Sadly instead of hearing a slew of important facts and figures and various pundit points of view regarding my impending 30th anniversary of life; at the forefront of all of the coverage has been the Clinton supporters who have vowed not to vote for their party’s candidate, Barack Obama, in favor of John McCain…or not voting at all.

Now, believe it or not, I’m all for not aligning yourself solely with one party if one candidate’s beliefs and policies more closely resemble that of your own, but it seems to me (and I could be wrong) that most of the Clinton supporters who have taken up support of the Republican nominee after their favorite ex-first lady’s run came to an end are only doing so, not because they like and trust McCain. It’s simply a case of sour grapes. They say that experience is a factor, but in my estimation, neither Candidate has the experience of being President of The United States. You cannot translate past experiences to mean definite future success, just as you cannot extrapolate a lack of experience and automatically pair it with ineptitude. It’s as if all of these dissenters are elementary school students in math class and their favorite teacher had to retire and a younger teacher was called in to replace her…but rather than give that younger teacher who is trying to teach them, the chance to teach them same thing…they refuse to continue to learn and intentionally fail their tests until they get their old teacher back…only their old teacher isn’t coming back and thanks to their low marks, they have to repeat the 3rd grade again. Saying that Barack Obama will be a bad president because he has no experience is just as stupid as saying he will be the greatest President because of his lack of experience. You’ll never know unless you give him the chance.

All metaphors aside…I hope Hillary Clinton’s Wednesday night speech helped turn the Clintons for McCain…or Clintons for not voting at all into Clinton’s for Obama, because none of that business seemed to make any sense, and I’m all for logic. In any case, the only reason I brought all of this up was so I could have an excuse to put up this video from the Daily Show from last night, which I thought was hilarious…especially Samantha Bee’s song.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=179256&title=healing-clinton-supporters

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WhatStache?

Posted by evankessler on August 21, 2008

I’m all for feel good human interest stories having to do with the Olympics, especially when they don’t have to do with the U.S.  Pretty much 99% of Olympic coverage has been about Michael Phelps or Synchronized diving.  With the help of USA Today’s Pop Candy blog, however, I recently happened upon a feel good article about the Croatian Water Polo team growing moustaches for good luck on the  Yahoo Olympics page.  Now I have no idea how the Croatian team is doing in the games, and judging by the names of the players used in the article, I have no idea if this is the men’s or women’s Water polo team, but because of this tidbit I hope the team makes it all the way to the finals so I can see a slew of mustachioed men or women showing their solidarity through their facial hair whilst firing that ball at the opposition’s net.  My only qualm with the article is that if you’re going to base an article on a visual concept such as the growing of facial hair, you better have a picture to accompany it.  I want to see this solidarity in action.  As of now, I have no concept of their dedication.  For all I know they could have peach fuzz on their upper lip or perhaps their baby-faced goalie hasn’t even had the slightest inclination to shave.  Instead of having this story brought to life I am forced to imagine a bevy of handlebar laden upper lips going for the gold.  So in short, Yahoo Sports, next time you’re going to do a story about moustaches give us a gander, so we can feel like we’re along for the ride.

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Off The Rhode Again

Posted by evankessler on August 15, 2008

Newport, the town so nice, they named a cigarette brand after it in the hopes it would convince the people who were smoking that particular product that they were on a resort vacation. If you’re at all wondering where I was the past few days, there’s your answer.

So why did I go? Pleasure? Leisure? My pleasure and other people’s leisure (pronounced to rhyme with pleasure by the way)? Well, neither or both. Okay, I’ll stop being so dodgy and say that I went to visit the International Tennis Hall of Fame. Why did I go to the International Tennis Hall of Fame. Well why not? If that’s not good enough for you then I’ll just that I went because it was a rare opportunity to see living Hall of Fame athletes participate in the activity for which they are known, as this particular weekend the International Tennis Hall of Fame hosted the Hall of Fame Champions Cup.

With that in mind, I booked a cheap hotel room on the outskirts of town and drove my trusty Honda Civic from Rockland County, where the gas prices on a gallon of regular have reached an astonishing $4.25…though if you want higher grade you’re of course going to have to pay more.

My ride to Rhode Island was a relatively uneventful three and a half hours unless you count the one brief moment where my life flashed before my eyes. Somewhere between New Haven and Stratford I was doing 70 MPH down I95 when I noticed a van riding my bumper….when I looked in front of me the car just to my right was squeeze into my lane despite the obvious lack of room. This prompted me to break in a panic as continuing at my current speed would have caused a definite collision, luckily by the time that happened the car behind me had managed to back off enough as to avoid any accident. Anyway, I was quite surprised by the car’s merging that occurred in spite of my dissension which was made clear by multiple discouraging honks of the Honda horn.

All close calls aside, there were no more bumps in my literal and figurative road to Rhode Island. I checked into the Motel 6 once I got into town without issue. My room was a little musty smelling but for $70 a night I wasn’t complaining.

Upon my arrival into town, I made for the Tennis Hall of Fame to have a walk around. Once my car was parked there was a bit of a drizzle. WIth umbrella in hand I made it to the Newport Casino where the Hall of Fame was located. It was easier to find than I thought since I had parked about a block away from it. The Newport Casino was built as what amounted to a social club. It wasn’t a casino in the non-traditional gambling parlor sort of way. The word “cascina” in Italian means little Summer House and so the Newport Casino was a summery type social club with shops, a theater, a reading room, a card room, and a tennis building to play the more traditional game of court tennis which was played indoor and made use of the walls. It was really a beautiful building…and it was also designed by the same architect responsible for The Hall of Fame for Great Americans, Stanford White.

Outside The International Tennis Hall of Fame

Inside Newport Casino

And Yet Another Angle

Within my first few seconds walking up to the 2nd floor of the Casino where the Tennis Hall of Fame museum was housed I was encountered by some more tidbits of history including a display on the inventor of Lawn Tennis Walter Clopton Wingfield, a name that sounds both privileged and clumsy.

The museum itself had a wealth of information on the displays. Kiosks housed multimedia displays on each of the inductees. You could see a few match highlights, quotes, and their records with the simple push of a button.

The further I walked into the museum the further I walked through the history of the Newport Casino. There was a scene of a card game surrounded by early tennis memorabilia from outfits to rackets to programs, with plenty attention to detail to the games early greats as well as what women meant to the sport.

I watched a short film on the 1937 Davis Cup semi-finals of U.S. vs Germany which came down to a singles match that the U.S. ultimately won. However, the German finalist didn’t just lose the match…he lost his freedom, as he was in opposition to Hitler’s regime and he apparently ended up rotting away in a Gestapo prison. You never think that a subject as seemingly simple as tennis can tell you so much about the history of the world…but the history of modern sports can sometimes serve to as a microcosm to our own societal issues.

Oh, but here I go getting all philosophical. I don’t mean to get boring, so I’ll just gloss over the rest of my time at the Hall of Fame. Two rooms later I found myself looking at a display on the historical Billie Jean King-Bobby Riggs Battle of The Sexes match. In the room I heard a woman with her young son say, “this has to do with grandpa…” The child replied “my grandpa”…The mother started to say…”he was the first….” and then the child ran off to the next room. I’m guessing this woman was either the daughter of Bobby Riggs or the daughter in law…but it was kind of a funny coincidence. In fact, I gathered that most people visiting the museum were not just there on a whim as much as I was. The majority of them were wearng special visitors passes so I assumed that they were there for the tournament that was taking place that week.

After going through the modern day tennis memorablilia and highlight rooms and after nearly three hours wandering around the 2nd floor of Newport Casino I finally took my cue to leave the grounds, but not before buying a mug. I was going to walk around Newport a little more but when I looked outside the rain was coming down in torrents. With my trusty umbrella in hand I made my way over to the Hall of Fame Tournament office to get my ticket for the next day’s tennis match on the grounds.

When I emerged from the office I was a little hungry…and semi-drenched. I made my way to the nearest food place which was a place called Pat’s Pub located beneath a restaurant called The Cannfield. When I walked inside the pub I was greeted by empty seats a bartender and a cook. It was 4:45pm, there were no customers; perhaps that’s because they weren’t open, but they let me sit down anyway.

A Friendly Establishment

I began to make small talk with the lovely bartender Emily as lacrosse played for some reason on the TV and Classic Rock played at a reasonable level over the radio. I ordered a burger with sauteed onions and cheddar and a Newport Storm Ale. Between the talk about the appeal of Newport and The Red Sox, I found my time at Pat’s Pub to be more than pleasant. The owner kept sticking her head in and asking how I was doing. I’m not sure if she thought her two employees incapable of handling one customer, but I assured her everything was more than fine. I was well looked after and was a little sad I couldn’t stay for the rest of the evening knocking down the local brew and getting to know the personable drink slinger and any patrons who happened to wander in. Unfortunately, I had driven into town and since I frown upon drinking and driving, I decided that would be a bad idea.

It was a little after 6pm when I left the bar. I left a nice tip and thanked everyone on hand. From there I went on a bit of a wander around town. I strolled down Thames Street where I had some gelato and walked back the other way to turn down Touro Street in the Washington Square section of town where I finally came upon the Touro Synagogue, the oldest Jewish Synagogue in the United States dating back to 1762. I didn’t get to go in as services were beginning just as I arrived and a slew of Orthodox types were making their wqy in at the time. I thought it would be bad form to walk in in shorts and a t-shirt at that point.

Ye Olde Synagogue

On my way back to my car, I strolled down Spring Street towards Memorial Avenue, walking past historic houses dating back from the late 1700’s to early 1800’s, may of which were now bed and breakfast establishements. It was a little after 8pm when I made it back to my car and several minutes later I when I arrived back to Motel 6. I was tired from driving and wandering and was all but ready to pass out. I sat in bed watching the Olympics which I’ve noticed has featured entirely too much synchronized diving.

The next morning I awoke at 10am, showered, hopped in the car and headed straight back to the International Tennis Hall of Fame. I had my tickets in hand for a day of Hall of Fame Champions Cup tennis. I got a $20 ticket for the cheap seats in the south stands. The old woman who ripped my tickets had something peculiar about her. Now, I don’t feel good about making light of the shortcomings of an old woman (so why do it?) but as she directed me toward the area where my seats were, I spied a reasonably hairy upper lip. I didn’t make it obvious that I noticed it but as I scanned her face as to not look at her semi-pencil thin white mustache I scanned down to what resembled the makings of a beard. An honest to goodness old bearded lady ripped my stub and directed me towards the south stands and I didn’t laugh or stare at her facial hair, I just sort of thought to my self, “well what do you know…a bearded lady.” When I made it the south stands, I saw that my seats were located in the midst of a crowd of people in the center location of the stands and it seemed as though the side sections of the south stands were empty. So instead of joining in the crowd I moved to my right where I had a clear angle at all of the action.

The first match was Wayne Ferreira versus Magnus Larsson. It wasn’t exactly a Hall of Fame matchup, but I had remembered them as relatively notable players being ranked 6th and 10th respectively in the world at their heights as singles players. The match itself was not too exciting. There weren’t a whole lot of intense volleys and neither of the players were moving around too much…they more or less hung around the baseline.

Ferreira Returns a Larsson Serve

I on the other, was not content to stay put. I noticed that the box seats in front of me were not being occupied, so I moved up to the 2nd row in the box seats and that’s where I watched the rest of the action. I was joined by an older retiree who spends his summer in the Newport area. He commented saying he liked my curly black hair and asked if I was Greek. I’m not sure if he was a creepy old man, but he gave me a few pointers on things to see while I was in Newport…so I didn’t mind so much…as long as he didn’t want me to go back to his place.

The first match ended with Larsson having picked apart Ferreira (who I was secretly rooting for for a reason unbeknownst to me) 6-2,6-2. It wasn’t nearly as exciting I had hoped and I was looking forward to better tennis being played in the “Champions Cup.”

The next match saw the first true Hall of Fame talent as former #1 player in the world and #1 guy on the older guys tour Jim Courier (a recent inductee into the Hall) faced off against Sweden’s Michael Pernfors another one of the “that guy was in the Semifinals of a grand slam a couple of times” Hall of Fame. Unlike the match prior, this match had plenty to be excited about. Courier and Pernfors traded points and games in which they held serve. There were many excellent points played. I have some video that I’ll stick below when I get the chance. It was pretty exciting to see a player as talented as Courier at work. Ditto for Pernfors who was almost equally impressive as he displayed his soft hands, as both of these players chased down each other’s shots. There were also plenty of minutes of the two jokingly trash-talking over the net. The people in the side stands could probably hear better their dialogue, or at least they were laughing to pretend they could. After a well fought and entertaining match, Courier wound up on top 7-6, 6-4.

I contemplated leaving after that match, but I had paid a good $20…so I stuck around to catch the final match between 1987 Wimbledon Champion Pat Cash and Czech player Karel Novacek. Before the match started, however, I went for a walk to check out the sponsors. I signed up for a Outback Steakhouse drawing as well as one for a free trip to Aruba. I don’t think I won either. I also strolled by the Jonathan Edwards wine tent and sampled an array of their fine reds and whites before getting a bbq chicken sandwich and settling back in my box seat.

Pat Cash Serves It Up

The third and final match of the day was more entertaining than the first, but not quite as captivating as the 2nd. Pat Cash continued the trend of taking the match in straight sets as he defeated Novacek 6-4, 6-1. And with that my day of tennis was over.

Instead of wandering around town some more I went down Bellevue with a purpose, to go to one of Newport’s famed mansions. The first one I came upon was called Kingscote and so that’s the one I opted to take a tour of. For $11 I was led on a tour with six other people of the extravagant home of Charles Noble Jones, a plantation owner in Georgia who commisioned Stanford White’s firm to build his family a summer home in 1839. The house itself was filled with plenty of look but don’t touch opulence and antique furniture; rooms the size of small houses and sterling silver goodies everywhere. That being said, there’s only so much richness you can stare at for a few minutes. I would’ve liked to learn more history of the family, but all I really heard was, this room used to be a kid’s room…or look at those sterling silver wine coolers. I decided against going on any tours of mansions after that, because this one made me sleepy.

Kingscote: You Probably Won’t Live Anywhere This Nice

With my experience at the Newport Mansions behind me…I did a little more wandering until I decided to grab a bite to eat at the Red Parrott Pub, where I had a huge dinner for no apparent reason, which always feels weird when you’re eating by yourself.

Sunset on the Newport Docks…In America

The sun starting to set, I decided to walk towards my car, but also where the shops are along the water. I took a few shots of the sunset near all of the boats. I had a little trouble finding where I had parked, but eventually happened upon the parking garage where my trusty civic sat for the last eight hours. I was a little turned around when I pulled out of garage and accidentally made a wrong turn onto a bridge to Goat Island. This was easily remedied by turning around after the bridge and heading back the right way.

My Wednesday evening mimicked that of my Tuesday evening, sitting in my hotel room watching the Olympics and getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.

Thursday morning my checkout was at 11am. I contemplated heading into town and going for one last walk along the water and not on water, contrary to popular belief. The weather channel helped me to make up my mind otherwise as the report said there might be scattered thunderstorms in the Boston area between Noon and 6pm. I figured some time in there the wet stuff would be hitting Rhode Island and it was probably better for me to get out of there sooner so as to not be driving through it…and with that, my time in Rhode Island came to an end. Three and a half hours later, after a uneventful drive back, I was back in the Empire State…and my mini weekday adventure was over

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Spain Puts Pee-Pee In Your Coke

Posted by evankessler on August 12, 2008

Greetings from Island-y Rhode Island.  I’m not going to elaborate why I’m in the Ocean State today…I suppose I can leave that for tomorrow’s post; but since I’ve been on the topic of the Olympics recently and not on your mom, I thought I’d share this tidbit that surfaced on the Yahoo! Sports feed via the UK Telegraph.

It seems as though the Spanish Olympic Basketball team thought it would be a good, non-racist idea to take a photo of themselves prior to heading to Beijing with the entire group pretending they had slanty eyes.

The photo was actually used in an ad for a courier company that sponsors the team.  I don’t know who the genius is who came up with this one or if it was a spontaneous act of bigotry, but I’m wondering if those in charge of this campaign had anyone resembling a gatekeeper in their employ to make sure this wouldn’t see the light of day…let alone make it the lead image.   I wonder if there’s a TV ad using a similar tactic in which the Spanish players replaced there double L “y” sound with rolled r’s (i.e Como te rramas?).  Well I guess the ad sort of worked since people are talking about it.   I suppose there’s no such thing as bad publicity…especially if you want everyone to know how ignorant you are.


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Clever Olympic Allusion

Posted by evankessler on August 12, 2008

WIth the Olympics beginning this weekend in Beijing, I was tempted to title this post something along the lines of “Going For The Gold”, “Weekend Olympiad”, “No-Lympics”, “Faux-lympiad” or even “Beer-jing 2008”. Instead I erred on the side of the above title because frankly, all of those seemed lame.

The prospect of the opening ceremonies hanging in the air on Friday, I spent the early portion of the afternoon at the movies not thinking of pole vaults or synchronized diving. I went to see the 2pm showing of Pineapple Express starring Seth Rogen and James Franco, a film which I had been anticipating since seeing the preview a couple of months before. Having been a fan of most of the other work in the series Seth Rogen/Judd Apatow collaborations I was ready for a surefire, laugh-a-second gutbuster. When I left the theater I didn’t end up needing to get my abdomen stitched up, but I had still enjoyed myself nonetheless. The film was good in that it wasn’t filled with a lot of downtime and the characters were constantly on the move, save for an evening spent in the woods. If I were comparing it to Superbad, Knocked Up, and The 40-Year Old Virgin, I’d have to say I liked those three films better based on the realistic natures of most of their situations…but despite the entire plot of Pineapple Express seeming a little far fetched it nonetheless was a nice way of transplanting my lazy tendencies from the inside of my apartment to a semi-social atmosphere that involved popcorn.

Leaving the theater at just after 4pm, I had three and a half hours with which to entertain myself or muck about until 7:30pm when I was to head over to Jenny and Filler’s to watch the opening ceremonies.

Now normally I don’t care about the Olympics. The whole entire thing seems just a little suspect to me. The idea of pretending I’m interested in sports that I’m not interested in for a span of 16 days under the ruse of fervent faux-nationalism has little appeal to me as an excuse for a good time. While I certainly felt no different about the festive ribbon cutting of Beijing 2008, I was none too in the mood to go all out on a Friday night. Since I had been invited to partake in the festivities with people I enjoy hanging out with, it seemed like a natural choice to head over to experience the proceedings with Matt, Jenny, Robert, Marie, and Aleks.

I arrived a little after the affair had began as there was going to be an international feast for our gathering and I had to pick up something. I chose to supply Chinese dumplings and Argentinian wine to go along with the assorted cheeses, risotto, guacamole, and other tasty what-nots. As soon as I assumed my position on the couch with my plate of international treats, I joined in the hilarious comment fest. While the lot of us were hypnotized by one of the more remarkable televised visual displays in recent memory, there was a steady stream of jokes that might feel at home in the most politically incorrect of comic’s routine. I think I specifically made a joke or two about foot-binding and mathematical prowess that I in no way should be proud of.

At one point we were so entranced by the intricate routine of the ceremony that I remarked that I wouldn’t be surprised that while the entire world was transfixed on this ceremony China was using it as a diversion to mount Nuclear attacks on all of its enemies. The repeated cutaways to President Bush also prompted their fair share of funny comments and impersonations, especially when he was spotted checking his watch.

Perhaps, the most enjoyable part of the procession, at least to me, was when all of the countries came on in alphabetical order. The thing I like about it is that you get to see all of the countries you didn’t even know existed. I had to look up Nauru on Wikipedia. I also like seeing all of the pretty girl athletes.

Hey There Team Sweden...Come Here Often?

The thing mostly everyone else seemed to like about it was the outfits that all of the countries were wearing. I’m not much of a fashion plate, but I think we all unanimously agreed that Team Hungary was horrendously dressed.

The Fashionable Hungarian Olympic Squad

The entire spectacle ran about four and a half hours and was a lot more entertaining than I thought it would be. Towards the end when China came in led by Yao Ming and a young earthquake hero survivor; Marie kept commenting on wanting to adopt the young lad…many jokes followed…some of them involving human rights violations. When the first torch bearer entered the arena, Xu Haifeng, I made a bit of an immature comment making fun of his name because it sounded like “Chu Have fun?” to which I remarked…”yeah, I had a pretty good time.” Oh, how the international stage allows ignorance to flourish when people are confronted with the unfamiliar.

In any case…the torch was lit after a the final torch bearer flitted along the perimeter of the stadium suspended by wires and just like that…”let the games begin!” The games had began but my night was coming to a close. Robert and I walked towards our section of Park Slope and I went to bed close to 3am after watching some bad tv before sleepytime.

Saturday, I thought I had a semi-full day of activity in front of me. I was going to go to Williamsburg for John and Zerna’s anniversary picnic, followed by my friend Janet’s band’s performance. I spent the early part of the afternoon at the Tea Lounge listening to music blare louder than my headphones and doing a little writing. At around 4:30pm I met Kishore at Smoke Joint in Fort Greene to pick up some food and head over in his car to the picnic.

As we made our way towards the park, I spoke on the phone with Jeff P who also was thinking about going to Janet’s show. Unfortunately, he alerted me that the show was taking place prior to the picnic and we had missed it. I felt like a moron. I had repeatedly been hinting to Janet that I would go see her band and this was the second time in two weeks I had mixed up the times. I put my schedule miscue behind me because that’s all I could do. I had a new plan in place for the evening. It was picnic…and whatever comes next.

Kishore and I arrived first at the park at Kent and N.7th in Williamsburg. None of our friends were in sight. After a brief walk around John, Zerna, and Lea showed up in a car with heaps of picnic goods. Suli was right behind on his bike and just like that a picnic began. We grabbed two tables and set up shop. The crowd gradually got bigger, Lauren, her boyfriend, Ajay, Javalyn, Enisha, Morwin, Jeff, and Andy all joined in.

Picnic In The Concrete Jungle

One of the interesting points of the afternoon was the period in which we were all sampling the “magic fruit” pill. Kishore had brought these pills that you dissolve on your tongue that make everything sour taste sweet. So after doing my part, I went straight for the lemon…which tasted like the sweetest glass of lemonade ever. I moved onto Granny Smith Apples, and limes…all which were super sweet. After twenty minutes the sweetness wore off but it was quite an interesting taste experience.

Mmm....Sugary Sweet Lemon

Somewhere towards the end of our picnic something really strange happened. A flood of cop cars and ambulances rushed into the park towards the waterfront. No one really knew what was going on, but since everyone thinks tragedy and train wrecks are so captivating, the majority of the park-goers rushed to see what was going on. Myself along with Zerna and a few other people were content to not gaze at whatever horrible occurrence had befallen some unlucky person. Instead I took more joy in watching Lea play with Lauren’s motorcycle helmet as she shoved her stuffed rabbit through Lauren’s mask.

And That Goes In There...

With nowhere else to go after and oh so much food and evening left over, we decided to move the party. Our first choice was the local beer garden, but after realizing it was much too crowded we moved the proceedings to John and Zerna’s apartment…lost Morwin and gained Andrea (?). The rest of the evening was more or less making fun of each other and drinking. I had only planned on staying out until 11pm on account I had a family get together the next morning but I didn’t leave until 1:30 when Jason, Kayvalyn, Enisha, Andrea, and I got a car back to our area.

I woke up at 8:30 Sunday morning on five hours of sleep. My mom showed up at my doorstep around 10:15pm…and just like that I was off. Our plan for Sunday was to look at the New York City Waterfalls art installation with my brother and then go see a David Byrne installation at an old ferry building on the river. First my mom, Irwin, and I went down to the water on the Brooklyn side where we could see two of the falls. I was none too impressed. The waterfalls just looked like water falling out from pipes. It wasn’t particularly attractive or eye catching; no more than water spewing out of a sewage treatment plant or leaking out from a storm drain. I think Irwin liked it, but it just seemed like a gimmick to me. Irwin asked me if I had seen the Gates. I told him I had but that was a lot more visual. This was too far away and really just not captivating at all.

We went over to Manhattan and picked up my brother, driving to the South Street Seaport for the view from there. I could see the two other falls from where we sat for brunch. I had the same reaction as I had from the Brooklyn side, “eh.”

What's The Big Friggin' Deal?

After brunch we walked down to the David Byrne “Playing The Building” exhibit at the Battery Maritime Building. The exhibit was actually really interesting. It consisted of an organ with it’s keys hooked up by a series of cables and tubes to various whistles, metal beams, pillars, heating pipes and water pipes to create atonal musical arrangements based on the visitors use of the keys. There was a line of about twenty people eagerly awaiting their turn their surroundings into a avant-noise masterpiece. I didn’t really have a need to do so, but my mom waited on line and took her turn on the keys. I filmed it on my camera…but I don’t feel like going through the download process now, so I’ll do it a bit later.

Mom Plays The Building

After our time at the David Byrne exhibit, we dropped my brother off at his apartment and I headed back to Rockland with my family. Upon returning home I went over to my friend Jessica’s house, where her parents were having a bit of a BBQ for her, her fiancé, her brother Matt, his wife, Jaime W, and her husband Andrew. Upon arriving I was greeted by two dogs, Sampson and Archie…and then I got to say hi to Jess who was stopping by Rockland on her way down to Miami, where she and Mike will be moving for one year. After sitting down, we watched some Olympics and then moved the festivities outside to partake in a tasty array of hot dogs, beef, chicken, salad, and finally desserts. It was kind of a brief get together, but I was exhausted and not really in the mood to do anything. It was kind of an ideal activity though. Food folks and fun as McDonald’s used to advertise.

Jess Embraces Archie

Powdered Donut Ice Cream Pineapple Grape Surprise

When I arrived home I was nearly in a food coma. Some of that may have had to do with my powdered donut ice cream pineapple grape surprise, but a lot of it had to do with a long day. I joined my mom and Irwin in some Olympic excitement and put my weekend to an end shortly thereafter.

Posted in art, BBQ, Brooklyn, drinking, old friends, Rockland County, Weekend Recap | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

File Under: Things I Don’t Ever Need To Know About

Posted by evankessler on August 9, 2008

The Yahoo! entertainment feed has a consistent habit of informing me of mind boggling non-stories that I would certainly file under “Things I don’t ever need to know about”. However, having seen their headlines, I have to admit my curiosity does get piqued from time to time. Today’s item of interest read:

“McConaughey to plant son’s placenta in orchard”

Now, I’m not sure what I’ll ever use this information for aside from this post, but now I have the indelible image of Matthew McConaughey holding a placenta in a field, etched on my brain, for no other reason than someone at the associated press chose it was worthy of reporting.

If I had any talent with photoshop I would use this photo of McConaughey…

And incorporate it with this photo of a placenta:

…so that you might have at least an idea of the picture that reading that simple headline burned on my brain, although I suppose you’re all creative enough to do that on your own.

Hey, does anyone know what Brad Pitt did with Angelina’s water when it broke? Is it in their fish tank? Did they bottle it as Angelina’s Baby Nectar and sell it to people magazine for charity? I hope a report surfaces soon on the topic because I’m dying to know.

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Pitt-Jolie Baby Photo Exclusive

Posted by evankessler on August 1, 2008

This just in…People magazine has ponied up a hefty sum of $14 Million for exclusive photos of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s latest contribution to society, but here at EvanKessler.com we just so happen to have the scoop on what the babies will look like………….

OTHER BABIES!!!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Odds are Pitt and Jolie’s twins will be tiny and cute and have slight distinguishing characteristics of their parents, though you won’t really be able to tell because those features will be so teensy weensy and would have barely begun to assert themselves in such a youthful state. Word has it they’ll also eventually poop and cry. Luckily, the money Pitt and Jolie received for first dibs at their kids is going to charity…otherwise the transaction in question may have been completely worthless.

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