Falling off the trees like ripe fruit

I’ve come across two fallen bird’s nest, thankfully both empty, in the last couple of days. It must be the season to let the old domiciles go, fledglings having fledged and all.

On stopping to pick up the upside-down-tire-squashed one of the pair (right side), the Goateed Campus Traffic Officer happened to come by.

GCTO: “Taking that with you?”

Me: ”Um…yeah”

GCTO: “That’s art man, right there. We couldn’t make a thing like that. It takes a bird.”

The GCTO and I then rode our bicycles side-by-side for the next mile….

“You ride this road much?” he asks. “I love it, art’s everywhere. Look there. See those shadows over there under the trees? That’s art, right there! Man, it gives me goosebumps.” He shows me his forearm for verification as we pedal (he did in fact seem to have goosebumps).

He feeds the pigeons under the graffiti-ed railroad bridge we are passing under. He also assures me he only takes care of the “lovable” animals on campus (e.g. “Cisco” the quasi-feral cat at the Rec Center; “Chip” the squirrel who lives in the river oak behind the Administration Building). By the by, he also mentions that BB King said the Blues is beautiful music that can only been written by “Good people who got the Blues themselves.”

Who'd know a Bodhisattva Dr. Doolittle works at the campus traffic circle? Maybe the birds up in their nests.

A tough day for Sno-Kones

Fluffy, icy Sno-Kones were having a rough time of it at the Bulls Ballpark this Father’s Day. Every few yards, another casualty, all green and red splattered and melting along the concrete.

We got lawn seats. Turns out cousin K. went to high school with the Bulls star batter, Matt Diaz, back in Florida. Two points for a small world.

(Bulls rallied in the bottom of the ninth and an extra inning, going from 4-0 to 4-5 to beat the Ottawa Lynx.)

Pulaski Bridge: magic portal from Queens to Brooklyn

An elusive bridge I was supposed to cross, according to Mapquest, to get to Jeff's place in Greenpoint. I found other means.

Did you know ExxonMobil polluted the Newtown Creek that runs beneath this bridge and the surrounding land on a massive scale? Yeah, news to me as well. J. and I took a boat trip the other weekend on the creek, thanks to the Riverkeepers. Crude oil leaching from the ground thick and slick onto the water. It stank. I guess as most "corporate responsibilty" does?
Bloody crazy.

break the bottle, christen the ship!

Last late night I was driving from Raleigh with friends and BLOGS came up.

Y. was intrigued and E. is a fan, but dubious as having her own. I have always been a bit ambivalent to the idea for myself. Zooming down the blackness of interstate 40 West the internal dia/monologue went something like this:

"In some sense, web logs might be thought of as virtual "zines" of sorts (! exciting! speaks to the high school Fugazi devotee in me). But really, it isn't even anything close to a zine since it lacks the essential homemade tangibility......hm."

"What's more, friend, 1) You're more visual than textual, and 2) your writing hasn't much improved since first grade. a poem:


fish is good
fish is nice,
fish is even good
on rice.

This was my first piece of creative writing ever. I think it may be the zenith at that- accessible, unpretentious, short and evocative (warm bowl of rice! mmm...)

But then I realized I could do it for free. Granted, this is one of the WORST reasons to do anything. But I am curious. So I christen this blog of very small observations:
"the paper boat"