This is the first day my HTC Evo has allowed me to connect to the 4G network in both Manhattan and Hoboken. Needless to say, I’m pretty excited, though I haven’t seen much of a difference yet. So far, my favorite part was to be able to rub it in Zeh‘s face as his Nexxus One isn’t 4G capable.
This is pure genius. On 23rd St and 11th Avenue, a variation of space invaders: Mario, of Super Mario Bros, was porcelain tiled below stand pipes that look uncannily like those in the original game.
Photo credit: Gregory Richard, Age 9
When I left the house this evening, I didn’t plan on making my Friday night in Manhattan all about people watching. I’d hoped, rather, to be able to meet up with the latest girl that I’d been deluding myself about. But rather, in tune with the last few weeks of trying to see her, we never ended up together. In my head, I composed the perfect email to let her know we’re through, but delivery will wait until tomorrow morning (when I’m clear-headed). You lucky readers won’t get such a reprieve, but rather the unfiltered stream of consciousness that was my evening. Read more
Someone recently laminated over “Brooklyn” on the 23rd St A/C/E Subway station entrance with the original name. An over-zealous Peter Stuyvesant fan? A shareholder in the Dutch West Indies Company? An Old Amsterdamian? Dunno. But what I love is that this “street art” actually prompts us to wiki. Now if that isn’t clever, ik weet niet wat er zou zijn.
Every time I look at the MTA’s system map, I always see a Native American’s face in profile: Manhattan is the stately bridge of the nose, Riker’s Island is the gleaming eye, and even the Rockaways are a feathered headdress. Partially because of this physiognomy, but more due to its sartorial charm, I presume it looks the most like Sioux, Crow— probably the ethnicity of my great-grandfather on my mother’s side—Blackfeet, Cheyenne, or Plains Cree.
