What do Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and the Skyscraper Museum have in common?

This is a burning question. I'll put you out of your misery. The answer is: they both live in the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Downtown Manhattan right now.

We made our way down to the tip of Manhattan (yes, past the World Trade Center site, around the Stock Exchange, through Battery Park for a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty) and to Battery Park City. I hadn't known the distinction before, but check out the cool origins of Battery Park City:

By the 1950s, Manhattan found itself with a boatload (no pun intended) of "finger piers" adjacent to the Financial District in Lower Manhattan. These piers- and there were dozens of them- were outdated and pretty much useless because they were way too small to accomodate modern-day cargo ships. Not only were they not useful, they were becoming blighted, attracting crime, and generally starting to infect the valuable parts of the Financial District. On top of it all, the Financial District was lacking enough modern office space (the kind that could accomodate those new-fangled computers and such) and businesses were leaving the area altogether.

So by the 1960s, somebody (actually, it was businessman David Rockefeller, with the support of his then-NY-Governor-brother Nelson Rockefeller) got the bright idea to 1) build the World Trade Center complex of buildings and 2) use the considerable amount of excavated earth to 3) fill in the outmoded pier area. They literally dumped zillions of acres or pounds or whatever of dirt right onto the piers. In this way, the shape of Lower Manhattan was significantly altered and Battery Park City now stands on top of the old piers/on top of the dirt from the World Trade Center excavation (looks like a bulge on the left side of this map). COOL, huh?

As an aside, I think the developers of the WTC were supposed to pay a bunch of money into a fund to build affordable/subsidized housing in Battery Park City, but my quick research gives me the feeling that the rich guys didn't want The Projects anywhere near their fancy new skyscrapers, so the money went elsewhere. Today, BPC seems to be full of only high-end housing and beautiful jogging paths along the Hudson River overlooking New Jersey across the way.

As if Battery Park City isn't cool enough already, just by virtue of its "birth" as a landfill site atop the skeleton of the old 19th century pier complex, it also is the site of the Ritz Carlton Hotel, which happens to also house the very cool Skyscraper Museum. But when we showed up at the Ritz Carlton, we were greeted by literally a hundred security guards, dozens of NYPD vehicles, a Coast Guard ship stationed off shore. We practically had to get a cavity search to get within 100 yards of the Ritz (ok, not really, but it was pretty weird to have to go through full airport-style security on a public street). What gives, I innocently asked one of the gentlemen wearing an ill-fitting suit and talking into his sleeve periodically.

DUH!!! It is the big UN meeting in town and, of all people, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was staying at the Ritz, hence the crazy security action. Not only was he staying there, but they were having some sort of ball that Saturday night and by the time we left the museum around 6 pm, the tuxes and gowns were arriving en masse. Too funny to see so many very important people, dressed in their finest, be super pissed-off that they couldn't drive up to the hotel and that they had to go through the un-glamorous security process in their ultra-fancy clothes.

The next day, Sunday, we were walking past the Waldorf=Astoria (don't blame me for that stupid "double hyphen" on the name, that's the official spelling) near our own hotel in Midtown, and security was even crazier. Turns out, that's where President Bush was staying!

Lower East Side of NYC: CRAZY melting pot that it is

Pardon the low quality of these images, but they are taken from my phone camera. I just had to capture the incredible diversity we saw in New York City last weekend. These were all taken within a single block of Orchard Street on the Lower East Side.

First, we have an image of a business that has been selling pickles out of barrels in this same spot for 100 years- Guss' Pickles. They don't sell them anywhere else, and they probably taste the same as they did 100 years ago when the Eastern European immigrants bought them from the same barrels. This was taken right outside of the Tenement Museum we visited, and man, did that guy know how to SLING PICKLES! He was fast and didn't waste his words. He'd be the Pickle Nazi, in fact.

Today there is a line (as you can see) of people waiting to buy these babies. And a tiny bit of google-searching tells me that - you heard it here first- September 16th was the 7th Annual International Pickle Day!!

Then we walked a block, crossing Delancey Street, to the heart of The Bargain District where the street was closed to cars and vendors were selling every kind of crazy imported cheap-o thing you can imagine. That's where I caught the second photo of DeMask- your standard-issue local dominatrix/leather shop, of course!

Finally, I took the third shot right across the street from the Leather Shop. Not sure if you can tell what's going on inside the shop, but that's a serious Hassidic Jew- earlocks and beard and snappy skull cap- selling naughty-nighties to a large African American woman. GOTTA LOVE AMERICA!

$1,000 per night, and -woo HOO!- it's Bed-Bug Free!!

I recently blogged about how ridiculously crazy the hotel rates are in Manhattan. I'm talking like $450/night for the Red Roof Inn-crazy. I'll stop myself here because I can feel my chest getting tight at the thought of my fruitless search for a weekend bargain.

When we were in NYC last weekend, we visited the Lower East Side when we went to the Tenement Museum. The Lower East Side ("LES") was extremely sketchy for probably the past 150 years. Super densely-packed, and generally the first-stop-neighborhood for the poorest immigrants to arrive in steerage through Ellis Island.

[Time Out: U.S. Fun Fact: Did you know that if you came across the Atlantic in 1st or 2nd class, you were admitted to the US no-questions-asked? It was only those passengers who arrived in "steerage" (think Leo DiCaprio in "Titanic") who had to get TB tests, physical and mental screenings, and all the other processing hoops associated with Ellis Island. Basically, money bought you free admission to the United States of America. The poor? They had to at least not be crazy or infirm. Otherwise, they got sent right back home!]

LES has stayed very dangerous and crowded and dirty from about 1810 until probably the past 10 years, when the outrageous real estate prices in Manhattan spurred gentrification of even the shabbiest areas (I'm massively generalizing here, but you get the idea).

So I was excited to see that there was a new, boutique hotel (a converted tenement house) on shabby/funky/chic little Orchard Street on the LES. With the faint hope that I had found my diamond-in-the-rough, new and still-undiscovered lodging spot, we popped in to the Blue Moon Hotel to check the rates, after taking the tour of the museum.

The lobby was gorgeous and funky- sort of a throwback to the 1920s- very authentic to the neighborhood, except that it was nice and not a flea bag hotel. Wait, maybe it is? read on.

We were greeted by a man in the lobby who, shall we say, matched the place. He must have been the owner because it was clearly 1926 when he woke up and got dressed- wearing one of those funky cabby/newsboy hats, turned to the side, and some unusual sort of corduroy vest and pants combo. Fashionable, but definitely eccentric. So we asked him about the rates for future reference.

So he is trying to sell the place to us, and he leads off with THIS gem/tidbit of marketing info: "The Blue Moon Hotel is CERTIFIED BED BUG FREE." And he points to a framed certificate on the wall- I'm not making this up- it was nicely framed and had a drawing of a nasty bed bug with a big red "zero/slash" around it. GNARLY.

Then the lady at the reception chimes in, and she starts bragging about how a real beagle dog came and did the sniff-inspection, and that was supposed to really impress us, to show us exactly how bed-bug-free this newly-opened hotel was.

Excuse me? I had never thought about bed bugs until they flagged the issue for me. Now I go online and google "New York City" and "bed bugs" and I find that this is apparently a huge issue. I even found a blog dedicated solely to NYC bed bug problems!

I have to stop because I don't even want to know any more about this topic. So back to the initial question, how much do I have to pay to stay in a bed-bug-free, converted tenement in a "transitional" part of the Lower East Side, a.k.a. "the Bargain District"?

FOUR HUNDRED FIFTY DOLLARS FOR THE CHEAPEST "PIED A TERRE" room, that's how much! The best room? Over A THOUSAND DOLLARS!

OK, OK, so the "pied a terre" room was actually spacious and very nicely appointed, and the $1,000 room was very big and downright homey, with a balcony and view, but PLEEZE! Again, who is paying $1,000 per night to stay in the 'hood?

Ugh. There go my hopes for a secret hotel "find" in the worst part of Manhattan!

NEXT coolest thing we saw in NYC: a bathroom?

While walking around SoHo on Saturday afternoon, we were looking for a place to escape the brief rainshower. We walked past a little restaurant and loved the name, "Peep." It looked trendy/funky and the $8.50 three-course price-fix lunch seemed like a typo, so we were intrigued and checked it out.

As if the super-chic interior design and uber-tasty food weren't enough to make us extremely pleased with our choice, the post-lunch visit to the bathroom sealed Peep's place in my heart forever.

The restaurant is very long and narrow. Sort of feels like a bowling alley/lane, with banquette tables all along one side and miscellaneous things on the other side. Half of one whole wall was solid mirror, and the kitchen is at the very back. So it wasn't obvious where the ladies room was, and I had to ask the waiter. "Behind the mirrored door." OK, so there's no "women's" sign and the mirrored door just blends in with the mirrored wall. Nothing too crazy, right?

But open that mirrored door and you will never be the same again. The bathroom is basically a box of 2-way glass/mirror that sits in the middle restaurant. It's really dark inside the bathroom, which is apparently necessary because otherwise the diners on the outside- who are like 2 feet away- could theoretically see right in! I fumbled around for a light switch, not knowing that I wasn't supposed to find one, or that, if I had, the bathroom would become an exposed light box for the whole restaurant to see!

You have no idea how strange it is to be - excuse the details here- sitting on a toilet, doing your business, staring at some lady two feet away who is chomping her pad thai noodles and chatting happily with her boyfriend, oblivious to the horrors that might be transpiring on the other side of the glass!

I emerged from that bathroom a different person. I couldn't even talk for a minute, the impact was so deep. I returned from the loo, mouth agape, with a look of shock on my face. "What is it?" John asked, curious. "Go to the bathroom." "But . . ." Me: "Just go. Trust me. It is a life-altering experience."

Roosevelt Island: the Coolest Thing in New York City?

We went to New York City last weekend and we saw so much and walked so much- let's just say my blisters have blisters. I hardly know where to begin- it was 48 hours that could launch a thousand blog entries, I think.

So I'll just start chronologically: We arrived by bus at the Port Authority Bus Terminal on Friday night. The Port Authority is right next to Times Square so it's crazy to arrive from a Binghamton/bus trip bubble and emerge into the blinding insanity that is Times Square at night. Note: I swear it's not weird to take the bus in New York. There's no train service from Binghamton to NYC, and driving in the City is also crazy, so the bus is the preferred option (3 1/2 hours each way, $72 round trip, in case you are curious).

It was nearly 9 pm by the time we got checked into our hotel (which was awesome) and were ready to explore, but I had a plan, a destination- Roosevelt Island!!

You've never heard of Roosevelt Island? Well, unless you are a HUGE dork, you really have no reason to know about it. It is a small (I think 150 acres or so) skinny island wedged in the East River between Manhattan and Queens. It's just off-shore from the Upper East Side (which is posh) and it was known as Welfare Island until the 1970s.

Here's the history in a nutshell: State of NY buys it in the 1800s and uses it for various undesirable purposes. It has been home to an insane asylum, smallpox hospital, prison, almshouse . . . if no one wanted to live next door to it, they stuck it on the island, basically. There was some sort of limited bridge access through an industrial area of Queens, I think, but it wasn't open to the public, really. Who would want to go there, anyway? It was just a bunch of decaying institutions.

Then in the 1960s, the island became a living laboratory, of sorts. Some of the NY state and local urban planners decided to make a planned, socially engineered community. Gov. Rockefeller and the Mayor of NY argued about how to do it, but the upshot is that they put together a plan for a community made up of all income ranges and all ethnicities. There is Section 8 (federally subsidized) housing, income-limited (middle-class) housing, and even some "market rate" (non-subsidized) housing. There is even an apartment building that caters to UN employees (the UN is headquartered just across the river in Manhattan) so there's a huge mix of ethnicities and cultures.

The result is that, 40 years later, you have 10,000 people of all incomes and colors and cultures living on this island that is a 3 1/2 minute tram ride (they added the tram for commuter service in the 1970s- it runs every 15 minutes and costs $2) from Manhattan, and yet light years apart from the hustle and bustle and filth and crowds of the city.

You basically have Small Town, USA plopped right into the middle of the East River. With incredible views of Manhattan, to boot! There is some car access via some bridges that were added in the 1980s, and there's even a Subway stop now, but you still don't go there unless you have a reason to.

As you can imagine, with access limited like this, and with that small-town-island feel, crime is virtually non-existent. There are biking/jogging paths around the perimeter of the island, and a shuttle bus (cost $0.25) runs every 15 minutes in a loop around the island. "Around" isn't really accurate, since there's really just 1 street (you guessed it, "Main Street") that forms a spine on the island so the bus really runs up-and-down the island (and not "around").

The tram ride (which conveniently starts adjacent to my new favorite grocery store, underneath the Queensboro Bridge, that I recently gushed about) is one of the most incredible experiences ever- it's like a ski-left tram but instead of rising above the alps, you are floating amidst a sea of residential skyscrapers!! I can't find a photo of it at night, all lit-up, but it was just . . . indescribable. And definitely the best ride in town for $2.00!!!

New York City: Land of Discounts on Big Dreams?

I've often heard New York City referred to as the "City of Big Dreams" or something like that. So when I was very glad to find that I can buy those Dreams for only $0.99!

The best part, though, is that the sub-text on the awning reads "Everything $1 and up"- huh?

P.S. For those of you who think I only make fun of Binghamton, that's not true. I make fun of everything - it's just that Binghamton has been my entire world recently. Now that I'm branching out to NYC, expect equal-opportunity teasing.

So THIS is how the rich do their grocery shopping!

I don't know if these photos can possibly convey how cool this thing is. It's "just" a grocery store, kids. But it's hands-down the coolest one you'll ever see. Here's the deal:

We finally made it to New York City for a day trip on a charter bus last weekend. I've been there plenty of times before, and we only had about 8 hours so we couldn't be too ambitious (even squeezing out 8 tourist-hours makes for a loooooong day when you factor in the additional 7 hours of round-trip driving), but for this birthday-weekend-trip, I was determined to find and explore something unusual, something cutting-edge, to really make it memorable (and to make me a far cooler and more urbane person, as a result, of course!)

I remembered an incredible visual presentation I had seen when I was working in Los Angeles, which talked about the mind-bending ways that architects around the world are able to re-purpose old structures in ways that give them new life in a modern world. The project that stuck in my head all these years was this grocery store.

I've seen a boatload of adaptive reuse projects, all over the world- turning the old L.A. Pabst Blue Ribbon brewery into an artists' colony, converting an old power plant on the Thames into the Tate Modern Art Museum, taking a 1915 Portland elementary school and transforming it into an entire microbrewery/hotel/restaurant/bar/music venue-complex - but this NYC grocery store might take the cake.

The grocery store is located UNDERNEATH - sort of the "armpit" if you will- the Queensboro/59th Street Bridge. Apparently this space was the site of an open-air market until the 1930s, so there is some precedent for its current incarnation, but it had been used as storage space for the NYC transit department for decades. It's the underbelly of a bridge, you understand!

Well, this bridge isn't any ordinary bridge, because its underside has very beautiful arches with detailed tilework that is apparently done by a famous Spanish architect named Guastavino, who also did lots of NYC's subway stations. Still, somebody had to have some serious artistic vision to think that what must have been a filthy, dark space could ever become an uber-swanky grocery store - where people buy fresh food!- on the Upper East Side, sharing the neighborhood with some of the priciest condos in Manhattan.

Sharing the space with the grocery store is an adjacent special event space called Guastavino's (named after the tile guy) which is so cool that it was apparently the site of "Sex and the City" cast parties (somehow that gives it the NYC stamp of approval).

The top photo shows the bridge and the outside of the space, which sports a mini-park and a (straight outta London) Conran Shop (it's a high-design home furnishings store, sort of like Ikea but about 50 times more expensive). The middle photo is an overview of the grocery store. The bottom photo was taken in the loft-area where we sat and ate our sushi, and shows more detail of the vaulted ceiling.

OK, I'll quit raving now, but- take it from me- if you are ever in NYC, it's a 15 minute walk from the southern edge of Central Park, due east, to the coolest grocery store you'll ever see.

The People's Republic of Ithaca

John has been working very hard since I arrived in Binghamton, and we really haven't taken the time to "get out" much. For my birthday, which isn't my favorite day to begin with, I was determined to bust out of my Southern-Tier-induced malaise and find a place with a different state of mind. I didn't even care what state of mind, just something different than the homogenous place we find ourselves living.

I had been nearly blind to the fact that such a strange, foreign land exists only 60 miles from us, in Ithaca, New York.

If you've heard of Ithaca, it's probably because the small town (population about 40,000) is home to the Ivy League's Cornell University. Maybe you've heard that it's "really freakin' cold up there," which perhaps makes it (reportedly) the "suicide capital of New York," that it has awe-inspiring natural beauty marked by lots of gorges (inspiring the favorite "Ithaca is Gorges t-shirt- get it? gorges?, and yes, I wear mine proudly), or maybe even that (at Cornell) it is home to the country's first and most prestigious School of Hotel Administration (which is cool because the school's "lab" is a 150-room on-campus, full-service hotel where your fresh-faced or, alternatively, hungover "doorman" is really a sophomore working his way up the school's management-ladder-curriculum.)

I had been to Ithaca a couple of times before- once in 2004 when I first came to visit John (and he wisely and immediately squired me out of town and we stayed up there at a great B&B, thus partially shielding me from the bummer that is Binghamton in February) and once in early 2006, when I had just moved here. But on those visits, it didn't strike me how incredibly different Ithaca is from its environs in upstate New York.

But I've been living here 1 1/2 years, now and on this visit, Ithaca's . . . uhm, unique? culture practically hit me over the head. I guess I've grown used to the rest of Upstate's decidedly rural, somewhat redneck, and extremely conservative ways. You gotta picture this- to get to Ithaca, we drove on 2-lane Route 96B through miles and miles of tiny farming communities that still have road signs indicating that drivers should watch out -not only for deer- but for horse and buggies!

Not so in Ithaca, or, as I like to call it now, The People's Republic of Ithaca.

Not only does Ithaca look and feel like an island full of dreadlocks and same-sex couples amidst the farmland of Tompkins County, but the residents apparently pride themselves on their different-ness. My favorite is that they even have their own currency, called "Ithaca Hours," which is apparently some effort by the hippie-locals to enable people to trade goods and services without using that pesky federally-printed green paper junk. "Ithaca Hours" are a big hit at the local Cooperative Market (along with patchouli oil, environmentally-friendly incense, anything "hand crafted in Nepal" and anything derived from hemp).

My other favorite Ithaca "fun fact" is that the "alternative" weekly newspaper(I'm not making this up- I tried to link to the Ithaca Times website, but I'm getting an error message that says "unable to connect" -how appropriate!)- you know, the freebie that has all the ads for medical marijuana in the back?- it has a larger circulation than the traditional newspaper!!

Anyway, we had a wonderful dinner at restaurant on the Commons (thanks, Mom & Dad!). That one restaurant had more ethnic diversity, I believe, than in all of Binghamton. I think I counted 6 "flavors" of people- so exotic! As a bonus, it was enlightening to spend the dinner observing the mating/dating/PDA habits of college lesbian couples, courtesy of the two young ladies sitting near us. Only an hour's drive and I felt like we had taken a trip to a strange land. Definitely a good change of pace, and a birthday to remember!

Soccer Hall of Fame

Nothing much exciting happens around here, so you can imagine that it is a Very Big Deal when important people get inducted into the Soccer Hall of Fame in nearby Oneonta, New York. Yup, you heard it right- not only do we have the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY (about an hour and a half from Binghamton), but the National Soccer Hall of Fame somehow is located about 60 miles NW of here, right between Binghamton and Albany.

Friday night I'm listening to the local news and I hear that Alan Rothenberg is getting inducted into the Soccer Hall of Fame, along with HUGE soccer star (and the first female inductee!!) Mia Hamm.

HUH? Alan is from LA and his son, Rich, is a friend and classmate from my JD/MBA program. My surprise was not at his induction, since he is a HUGE soccer promoter and has been the president/corporate backer/business force behind every national soccer thing since the 1984 Olympics in LA (including bringing Major League Soccer to America, having a hugely successful World Cup here in 1994, Commissioner of Soccer, yada yada yada.

But does that mean that Rich is . . . HERE? I emailed him right away and, sure enough, he was headed to Oneonta with his family. Long story short- I attended the induction on Sunday and it was VERY cool- 2 hours of some of the best speeches I've ever heard!

They had the biggest turnout EVER for an induction (nearly 5,000 people- most of them seeming to be young girls). Mia is just plain-old famous- she has transcended gender and nationality at this point, to become an internationally-renown athlete. It was a zoo with her there, and soooooo cool to see what a role model she is for the young girls. Go Mia!

Hip Hop apparently not going to save Binghamton's Economy

Today I read an article about how there is a growing backlash against Hip Hop music, because it incites violence, is so misogynistic, and generally offends people.

This reminded me of something I forgot to blog about last year when it came out: the City of Binghamton actually held a "Hip Hop Summit" and pinned its hopes on building some sort of gangsta music empire here. GREAT. I guess they figured that all the scummy people moving up here from New York City needed to be put to some good use (now I'm really starting to sound like a local!)

Perhaps the best part, though, is the fact that guy who was supposed to partner with the City and have all the music connections? The one who showed up at every city council meeting to talk about getting kids away from drugs and crime? Yeah, him. Well, he was sent to Broome County Jail on weapons and other charges. I guess he's working on building his street cred so he can really succeed in da muzic biz. Sheesh. Too damn funny.

The Pod Hotel in NYC: Embracing your inner tiny-ness

People in California are often surprised to hear that, aside from passing through on the way to JFK airport to catch a flight to Europe, we haven't been to New York City since I moved here a year and a half ago. At least a couple of reasons for that, not the least of which being that it's far (at least 3 1/2 hours' drive). But John has two very big school-related hurdles to pass in September, so we wanted to take a little weekend trip as a reward to celebrate the culmination of a TON of hard work.

It's not that I'm cheap (OK, I am) but I just don't care that much about my hotel, other than that it be clean, safe, well-located, and- the most important characteristic- unusual/full of character (i.e., in my book, a converted convent beats out a Holiday Inn, even if it's half the price). Other than that, I'm going to be out and about during my visit so I just think it's a waste of money to pay a lot for a fancy hotel that I'm barely going to enjoy. Armed with my $150 price cap (but usually much less), I've stayed in some really great places. In just the past couple of years, I've been able to find excellent accommodations in great locations in some of the world's priciest cities: $120 in London, $120 in Florence, and my personal favorite: $70 a night for a huge pad in Rome. A tour of rates in Downtown Los Angeles and I found deals for $80 at the uber-fancy Biltmore (since the financial heart of LA is a tourist-wasteland on the weekends, I had hoped I'd find similar deals in the Wall Street area of Manhattan). Maybe I was spoiled by these experiences and the fruits of my LA research, but nothing, NOTHING, could prepare me for the rates I found for hotels in NYC.

SHOCK: Now, I know I live in the 347 cheapest housing market in the United States, so I had expected to be surprised by how expensive the hotel rooms were in NYC, especially compared to Binghamton, where $700/month rents us a huge, beautiful, 100-year-old old house in one of the best neighborhoods in town. But nothing could prepare me for this: Small off-brand hotels rating "Inexpensive" in my AAA guide started at over $300 for a standard double room. Oh, and those places are all booked up anyway. Someone suggested I check out the Holiday Inns- standard room at the Holiday Inn near Wall Street? $450/night (!?!?) It was not at all unusual to call up a hotel in the "moderate" category and find a basic room for two people for $700 per night.

BOTTOM OF THE MARKET REFERENCE POINT: Just for fun, I checked out a hostel (I swore I'd never stay at one of these dormitory-like places again after college, but the cost can be a good barometer of what you're going to be paying for a proper hotel room in that city). Cost of a double room in a lame hostel? $80!! I've never seen a hostel for more than $50/night for two, so that's a new record for me. And it forced me to get a little more realistic about what we'd ultimately pay.

PRICELINE: Several people suggested I try one of those "dutch auction" hotel sites where you plug in your price range and they find you a hotel, but you don't know which hotel you are getting until it's already booked, something that sounded somewhat exciting but also lame that you could be stuck with some loser hotel and have nothing to say about it.

THE BOONIES: I was about to do the priceline.com thing when I went on the site, and others like it, and found that the cheapest hotel listings were around $250 but, more importantly, were hotels in places like "Newark International Airport" and "Weehawken" and "Seacaucus, NJ"- HELL NO! We're spending 2 days in the city, we care primarily about location, and, besides, $250 to stay hear the airport? I was starting to work on John to see if he would reconsider the chosen destination for his reward-trip.

GENIUS: Then it struck me: If we are going to pay a bunch of money for a tiny place, why don't we embrace that tiny-ness and stay at one of these hotels I'd looked into staying at in London: A "pod" hotel!

"CAPSULE" HOTELS: By way of background, there are these wacky "capsule hotels" in (of course) Japan where you basically stay in a sleeping bay that looks like a sleeping compartment on a train. This concept has not gained popularity outside of Japan, where business men favor it when they've missed a flight or are too drunk to get themselves home. This is NUTS and not what we are doing, just to be clear.

THE POD HOTEL: The American version of a "capsule" hotel is really nothing like a capsule hotel, it is just a place that embraces extremely high density (which is really saying something in a place like NYC, where everything seems to already be so dense). I think it's going to be more like the stateroom of a ship, or our tiny house in Hermosa Beach, where things are just on a much smaller scale and you don't have room to turn around in the bathroom, which is just fine . . . as long as you aren't paying $600/night!

We're excited about this!! The Pod Hotel in NYC is the only one of its kind in America, I think, and I'm still not totally sure what the concept is. I will report back after our trip, but all I know for now is that it is new and fuses very cool, clean design with minimal space in a way that appeals to me aesthetically and practically. And the price? $169/night and it's located in an ideal mid-town spot just a few blocks from Rockefeller Center.

Although I'm totally embarrassed to admit this publicly: I did opt to save $150 and get bunk beds (!!!) Hey, if we're going to be staying in a tiny place, why not embrace it and stay at a place that accepts the fact that the rooms are tiny, and makes up for it with excellent design and furnishings that are suited for the purpose (flat screen TV, anyone?)

Now we've gone from being totally dejected about paying $300/night for a sketchy dump in Manhattan, to feeling like we're really trendy for staying at this hip new hotel option. Can't wait to report back!

BREAKING NEWS: Woman accidentally sells ashes of husband's dead wife at rummage sale

FROM TODAY'S BINGHAMTON PRESS & SUN BULLETIN- I COULD NOT MAKE THIS UP

http://pressconnects.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070806/NEWS01/70806018

Elmira woman sold the wrong turtle at rummage sale

Anita Lewis of Elmira is desperately seeking the woman who bought a
ceramic turtle from her on Saturday. Lewis was unaware that the large,
brown turtle contained the ashes of her husband's previous wife.

Lewis said the object was inadvertently included in items at her
rummage sale Saturday at 811 Grove St. She's hoping the woman still
has the turtle and can return it to her.

If you know the woman who bought the turtle or have any information to
share, call John Cleary at (607) 271-8293 or e-mail him at
jcleary@stargazette.com.

-- Gannett News Service

p.s. THANK GOD! Ashes recovered . . .

Woman recovers turtle containing ashes

Anita Lewis has recovered the turtle containing her husband’s previous wife’s ashes.
Lewis, of Elmira, accidentally sold the ceramic turtle at her rummage sale Saturday. Later, her husband, Terrence Lewis, told her the urn contained the ashes of his first wife, Marcia Lewis.
The turtle was recovered at the Salvation Army Thrift Shop in Horseheads after a tip from an anonymous caller to the Star-Gazette.-- Gannett News Service

http://pressconnects.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070807/NEWS01/70807026

The Fat (Wo)Man's Salad

I know the photo is a bit dark, but you can still see the slices of pepperoni hiding under the Ranch dressing in this photo (can you spot all 3?).

Last week we went to dinner at our favorite place in Apalachin (pronounced "App-a-LAKE-in," just to be fussy), called Bud's Place. I would provide a link to the place, but it is so far off the Internet Superhighway that I'm only turning up yellow page ads when I google-search for it. Anyway, I thought this salad was great- it's the perfect Fat Man Salad: not only do you get tons of Ranch dressing poured over your wilted lettuce, but it also provides a convenient opportunity to inject some more pepperoni into your diet. Nasty looking, yes, but DARN TASTY, I have to admit!

Motor Oil, you say? Oh no, my friend, that's MAN LUBE

I was at CVS the other day looking for on-sale man-stuff for John in the shampoo aisle. What did I find? THIS fine selection of motor oil, I mean, soapy body lube stuff that is apparently being marketed to men. "Full Throttle Body Wash" by Velocity. GEEZ-us. I was already laughing at the black, penis-shaped bottle of acne wash when I stumbled across this gem of a photo. Even without that semester of Marketing that I took in B-schoo, the marketing ploy is, ahem, quite obvious, but REALLY!

What is the conversation in the board room of the marketing/advertising firm that concocted this crap? "Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to launch a new line of body wash that men, who otherwise couldn't give a crap about body wash, will pull right off the shelves. You see, we are going to make it MANLY by putting it in MOTOR OIL-looking bottles, because men are attracted to black and silver bottles with penis-shaped spouts. . . . " I don't know, I'm not in the advertising biz, so I can't even fake the dialogue. All I know is that this junk was in the DEEP DISCOUNT aisle and I can see why. Wow.

NEWSFLASH: "Rocking Chair Season Has Officially Begun!"

In case you weren't aware, Rocking Chair Season has Officially Begun! Who knew? Not me.
This was the scene outside of the local Cracker Barrel restaurant, located conveniently off of the Interstate that runs past/through Binghamton. It is hilarious to me that the restaurant, which is a big East Coast chain not unlike Marie Callendar's, is completly oriented to toward the highway and literally doesn't even have a sign that faces the run-down Binghamton side of the property. The restaurant was so un-B-town I thought I was somewhere else: it was orderly, had attractively arranged inventory in the store, sold reasonably nice stuff. Crazy! Was I in a different city?

What was I doing there? I had stopped in on the way to Albany a few weeks back, in order to pick up a book-on-tape for the 2 1/2 hour drive to Albany. I had to go to Albany in order to get "sworn-in" to the New York bar in a way-too-elaborate ceremony. In California, I got sworn-in at the Shrine Auditorium (then home of the Academy Awards) in a 5 minute ceremony, but I literally could have been sworn-in by my secretary, because any Notary Public can swear you in.

NOT the case in New York. Little did I know that passing the bar was only the first step in my long journey to be admitted to the New York bar. I had to submit the most ridiculous application that required me to get notarized letters from all my previous law-related employers EVER. I had to call random lawyers in California who I worked for only briefly, leaving voicemails like "Hello, this is the former Anne Samuelson. Let's flash back together, to the summer of 1996 when I was a summer clerk in your office."

Ridiculous, I tell you. I cannot believe I got even one of them returned. Then I had to have an interview- an INTERVIEW! in order to pass the moral character portion and be admitted. The best part was that this is such a small town that my interviewer was another Special Counsel at my own law firm!

After all of this rigamarole, I finally passed the moral portion and even THAT was not the end of my trek. Next, I had to return to the scene of the crime, travelling all the way to Albany by myself on a Tuesday in a formal ceremony, and getting admitted in the same awful subterranean convention center room where I took the bar exam in February. Apparently I was really speedy about getting admitted- there were people in the ceremony who had passed the JULY bar and were just now getting sworn in. Talk about erecting barriers to entry into the legal profession- GEEZ! New York is crazy with its bureaucracy! At least it was only in the 90s and 90+% humidity in Albany that day, and I was wearing a black suit . . . .

At the end of the day, though, I can now say I'm still admitted to practice law in the two toughest- and most different- states in the country. Almost made me want to buy one of those damn rocking chairs just to celebrate!

My New Boyfriend, the Grand PooBah!

I was at the Binghamton Club a little while back and chanced upon a Shriner's party. What really struck me, besides the fact that the average age was approximately 82 years, was the SWEET hats they had on. These are like the ancestral beginnings of all things bedazzled. AWESOME. (Please note the hat that reads "Arab Patrol"- I don't even want to know what this refers to, but it's got its own freaking website, and it's definitely not politically correct today.)

But where do they get these things, I wondered? Surely their wives could not have bedazzled these babies "back in the day," before such modern technology was available?

Once again, "google" comes to my rescue, and immediately informs me that yes, in fact there is a "supply" out there for every "demand," no matter how bizarre. Were you aware that there is a 62 year-old company that provides all sorts of specialized garb, called Los Angeles Fraternal Supply Company, Inc.? And I wasn't even looking for an L.A. connection, but this place is located at 37th and Main, just a few blocks east of USC! I've probably driven by it dozens of times on my short cut to work, and never knew the gem-encrusted fraternal fabulosity that was hidden behind its nondescript walls. Can't wait to "Visit Our Showroom!!!" as the website invites me, personally, to do.

WOW. That website is chock-full of cool stuff. I suggest you take a tour- there are all sorts of rites and orders and things, and check out the making of a custom apron- that's cool! Almost makes me want to join so I can wear the bling-bling hats and ride around in tiny cars!

A One Woman Crusade . . .

. . . . to bring telephone area codes to the Southern Tier!! For some reason, businesses around here find it unnecessary to put area codes on their business contact information. It's like they are completely giving up on the prospect of anyone from, say, Syracuse (a whopping 60 miles away, but a different area code) calling to do business!!

This trash dumpster/advertisement is a good example. You don't think any of their dumpsters have any chance of being used 10 miles to the south, over the state line in Pennsylvania, where the area code is different? Apparently, neither does Greenblott, because they didn't spend the few extra bucks (and all that spare space is available!) to provide the "607" area code. It continually amazes me that people can live with such blinders on that they cannot even comprehend that someone from a few miles away might actually want their full contact information. I think it speaks to the larger issue, that people really just have tunnel vision, and don't even travel outside the immediate area.

But never fear, I'm here! I'm constantly reminding people to put their full contact information on everything. Oh, and to use their last names, too! (I'm not kidding!)

No Such Thing as a Free Lunch

Today I stopped by our local Citizens Bank, a perfectly reputable regional bank, and was greeted by this little gem sitting on the counter top. First, let's note the fine Southern Tier Graphic Design, complete with extremely sloppy highlighting and pathetic attempts to add interest with that sad asterisk and squiggly underlining.

But now let's move to the meat of the thing. Let me get this straight: I'm supposed to drop my business card in this little shoebox and I "win" . . . a free lunch with Linda the Branch Manager and Jenn the business banking officer??? This sounds more like one of the layers of Hell. You don't just win "a free lunch at XYZ reputable restaurant" to enjoy with the lunch date of your own choosing. Nope. You've gotta sit with these two ladies, who I'm sure are perfectly nice, but why would I want to hang out with them? So they can try to sell me banking products???

The best part, however, might be the mystery lunch location. I can only imagine them taking the "winner" to one of the hugely dumpy diners for lunch, which would get you change back from a $20 for all three of you. No thanks!

Get ready for Peregrine Falcon season!

It's that time of year again! Get ready for falcon season.

This photo is one that appeared in the New York Times last week, taken from a wildlife "falcon cam" somewhere in New York (I think it was in Albany). Our local Binghamton nest, which is one of only about 50 breeding pairs in all of New York state, doesn't have its own camera (yet, due to inaccessability) but, as you may remember, it's located behind an architectural element on the 9th floor of my law firm's beautiful 1904 office building, so I get to witness firsthand the remnants of their voracious appetites (their "crumbs" = pigeon parts).

Since I can't directly observe what's going on in my very own falcon nest, I live vicariously through the falcon cam that chronicles Rochester pair nesting high in the architectural details of the Kodak headquarters. This website is my "home page" at work, and I gotta say, it is COOL. It is amazing to watch these four little beasts go from freshly-laid eggs to a heap of little cotton balls to something that is finally starting to resemble the insanely efficient raptors they are going to grow up to be in just a month or two.

Spring "flowers" in our neighborhood

Our neighborhood is full of very quaint, early 20th century houses that, if they were located in Los Angeles, would be filled with artists and other creative types. Here, however, the houses are sometimes rundown, have often been stripped of historically interesting architectural details, and are occupied primarily by regular old boring families.

However, we have one neighbor who is the odd duck in the lot, which I should have guessed when I bought his vintage porn collection at last summer's garage sale. Each spring, this gentleman's yard boasts a new crop of "spring flowers." You can see from the photos, however, that these aren't real flowers, but vintage kitchen utensils, painted in fancy colors. There are scores of them, as you can see. The best part, I think, is the fact that, last year, they were painted pink, blue and white. This year, he repainted his posies and opted for orange, red and white, which I think is fabulous and about 100 times more whimsical than anything around.