As someone I know would have said, "Seen one sunset, seen 'em all."
Monday, August 31, 2015
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Princess Maha: A shopping excursion
About a month ago, we were walking along W. 59th St. in New York returning from a little exploration of Roosevelt Island. West 59th takes you along the southern edge of Central Park, and, as a result, is home to some of the priciest real estate in the city.
We were passing the Plaza Hotel near the corner with 5th Ave. when we saw a group of about 10 black SUVs, the kind you see in TV shows where government agents are conducting some big operation or escorting the President. Around the vehicles were large, be-suited men with sunglasses and ear pieces. As a scene, let's just say that it caught the eye.
As we got closer, we saw an empty cube van and literally piles of shopping bags and boxes. Some were being packed into crates. All of the bags originated from every boutique and hi-so brand you could name. The crates were labelled "Princess Maha, Saudi Arabia."
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| Princess Maha's goodies before they were packed up |
Now our interest was well and truly piqued.
As soon as we got to wifi, we started looking up this Princess Maha person. It turns out Princess Maha has had quite a few historic shopping sprees, some totalling in the millions in just a few hours. She also has a history of sneaking out on bill payments at hotels and shops. And, oh yeah, an incident when she likely beat one of her service staff.
As my one and only 'brush with royalty', this was quite an interesting one. Thanks, New York.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Daredevil and the Kingpin of Overacting
I admit from the start that I am a bit of a comic book nerd. I still read them, but I don't go to conventions. Nor do I wear Hulk t-shirts or particularly like superhero movies. The Avengers movies basically kinda sucked. Or maybe that has to do with my own expectations. All the way back to the Spider-man cartoons of my childhood, I have been pretty disappointed with the onscreen adaptations of comics.
So when Netflix came out with Daredevil, I was sceptical. I watched the first episode a couple of months ago and thought it was okay. I wasn't ready to commit to watching it, but my wife watched the second episode with me and she liked it. Admittedly, she may have liked it because Charlie Cox, the guy playing Daredevil, is pretty hot. Anyway, since she liked it, I decided to watch the rest of it and just finished this past week. All in all, it's pretty good - good tension, good relationships, good action sequences (though maybe a few too many flippy kicks).
The villain in this season is Kingpin, one of Daredevil's perennial foes. Casting this part must have been incredibly difficult as the Kingpin from the comic book pages is a behemoth of incredible strength. Finding someone in real life with the right size wouldn't be that hard, but he wouldn't have the necessary muscle under the fancy suits. When I initially saw Vincent D'Onofrio in the role, it just looked like regular old Vincent D'Onofrio - just bald. As the season continued, however, he seemed to look more and more like the Kingpin from the pages of the comic. It was an eery transformation. O perhaps it was a trick of the brain altering my memory of what Kingpin should look like.
Anyway like I said, it turned out to be a really good season, but as the battle for Hell's Kitchen wore on, and Kingpin's plans to run New York teetered in the balance, D'Onofrio pulled out all the acting stops. It was something like the U.S.S. Enterprise going to warp 12 while Scotty yelled at Kirk that 'she couldn't take it anymore'. Or a rollercoaster without brakes. Or Donald Trump giving a speech on the campaign trail.
Over the top doesn't even begin to describe it. Now, I always remember the Kingpin as a scheming, violent mastermind, not a maniacal, ranting lunatic. Vincent D'Onofrio always had kind of a, shall we say, signature style in shows like Law and Order, but in Daredevil we saw a whole new set of acting chops. He certainly brought the character to life, and for that I shall always remember him as the Kingpin of Overacting.
So when Netflix came out with Daredevil, I was sceptical. I watched the first episode a couple of months ago and thought it was okay. I wasn't ready to commit to watching it, but my wife watched the second episode with me and she liked it. Admittedly, she may have liked it because Charlie Cox, the guy playing Daredevil, is pretty hot. Anyway, since she liked it, I decided to watch the rest of it and just finished this past week. All in all, it's pretty good - good tension, good relationships, good action sequences (though maybe a few too many flippy kicks).
The villain in this season is Kingpin, one of Daredevil's perennial foes. Casting this part must have been incredibly difficult as the Kingpin from the comic book pages is a behemoth of incredible strength. Finding someone in real life with the right size wouldn't be that hard, but he wouldn't have the necessary muscle under the fancy suits. When I initially saw Vincent D'Onofrio in the role, it just looked like regular old Vincent D'Onofrio - just bald. As the season continued, however, he seemed to look more and more like the Kingpin from the pages of the comic. It was an eery transformation. O perhaps it was a trick of the brain altering my memory of what Kingpin should look like.
Anyway like I said, it turned out to be a really good season, but as the battle for Hell's Kitchen wore on, and Kingpin's plans to run New York teetered in the balance, D'Onofrio pulled out all the acting stops. It was something like the U.S.S. Enterprise going to warp 12 while Scotty yelled at Kirk that 'she couldn't take it anymore'. Or a rollercoaster without brakes. Or Donald Trump giving a speech on the campaign trail.
Over the top doesn't even begin to describe it. Now, I always remember the Kingpin as a scheming, violent mastermind, not a maniacal, ranting lunatic. Vincent D'Onofrio always had kind of a, shall we say, signature style in shows like Law and Order, but in Daredevil we saw a whole new set of acting chops. He certainly brought the character to life, and for that I shall always remember him as the Kingpin of Overacting.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Exciting Times at the VPL (seriously)
Last night I went to the library (the Vancouver Public Library to be precise) and had one of the best nights out I have had in years.
The Library hosted the type of event that I have not been able to attend in ages and it thrilled me. No joke. They held a free screening of Just Eat It: A Food Waste Movie with a Q&A period with the film's producer afterwards. The movie itself was a great documentary of the amount of food wasted in North America, showing the producer and director embarking on a six month journey of living off food that is discarded or about to be.
The British Columbia pair created an informative and inspiring film that was often quite funny. It avoided the 'world-is-ending' tone, which, though likely true, usually turns off so many people. With students, for example, they feel so much like the problem is beyond them that there is no point in changing behaviour. Just Eat It, however, makes it clear that there are really simple things we can do to reduce the vast amounts of food wasted each year.
Back to my main point though...the thrill of the evening was not the film itself, but the fact that a large auditorium was filled with people who turned out to see an issue-related documentary. The host was a government funded, people supported institution with the primary function of lending people things for free to increase learning. After years overseas, I had forgotten how much events and institutions like this matter to me.
Part of it is, of course, related to language. In Thailand, though I speak Thai quite well, a full length film with Q&A would have been difficult. But more importantly, this type of event doesn't really happen in most countries. And this type of institution - based on lending people things for free - doesn't really exist in many parts of the world.
So last night, I felt lucky. I felt excited, and I felt committed to supporting my community institutions and the issues they face.
Thanks again, VPL.
The Library hosted the type of event that I have not been able to attend in ages and it thrilled me. No joke. They held a free screening of Just Eat It: A Food Waste Movie with a Q&A period with the film's producer afterwards. The movie itself was a great documentary of the amount of food wasted in North America, showing the producer and director embarking on a six month journey of living off food that is discarded or about to be.
The British Columbia pair created an informative and inspiring film that was often quite funny. It avoided the 'world-is-ending' tone, which, though likely true, usually turns off so many people. With students, for example, they feel so much like the problem is beyond them that there is no point in changing behaviour. Just Eat It, however, makes it clear that there are really simple things we can do to reduce the vast amounts of food wasted each year.
Back to my main point though...the thrill of the evening was not the film itself, but the fact that a large auditorium was filled with people who turned out to see an issue-related documentary. The host was a government funded, people supported institution with the primary function of lending people things for free to increase learning. After years overseas, I had forgotten how much events and institutions like this matter to me.
Part of it is, of course, related to language. In Thailand, though I speak Thai quite well, a full length film with Q&A would have been difficult. But more importantly, this type of event doesn't really happen in most countries. And this type of institution - based on lending people things for free - doesn't really exist in many parts of the world.
So last night, I felt lucky. I felt excited, and I felt committed to supporting my community institutions and the issues they face.
Thanks again, VPL.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Doing Battle with Raccoon Nation
I love The Walrus. It’s one of the best magazines out there, dealing with important, timely issues with good writing and, often, a sense of humour. The other day I was reading their piece on the increasing intersection of humans and wild animals, “There Goes the Neighbourhood” by Drew Nelles. The article focuses on coyotes but mentions several other species that have found opportunity in our human-built environments.
One frequent cohabitant, for Canadians at least, is the raccoon. The raccoon presence is so prevalent (and so annoying) that Toronto mayor John Tory announced last April that, “We have left no stone unturned in our fight against Raccoon Nation.” At the time he was announcing a…drumroll please…a new compost bin design. Tory went on to say that, “Defeat is not an option.”
Really? That’s what Toronto’s tough stance against Raccoon Nation amounts to? A new compost bin? I think there are a few more steps we humans can take when animals cause destruction to property and multiply seemingly without limit (because of an absence of predators and plethora of food sources). You can probably tell where I’m going with this - yes, I do think killing animals is, at times, a legitimate solution. But I believe strongly that there are a whole lot of steps in between we have a responsibility to take first.
The main reason that we have raccoon/squirrel/skunk/coyote problems is us. We provided a constantly replenished food source for each species. Whether it’s our garbage, our compost, or our pets, we have created a bounty that has allowed different species’ populations to soar. At the same time, human development has eliminated the habitat for less adaptive species, removing the limiting factors of competition and predation for all of the varieties that have flourished.
Fixing the problem, therefore lies with us.
Sure, animal proof compost and garbage bins are a starting point, but our local governments also need to tackle people who leave food out for pets. Start with education campaigns and then start fining people who are essential baiting animals into coming into residential areas. Charge by-law officers with the responsibility to inspect around homes where sightings have occurred. Fine the people who are leaving food around. As for the fools who are actually feeding them, make them feel some financial pain because, ultimately, they are causing others property damage and other losses.
Next, it’s time to take a look at pets. Aside from wreaking havoc looking for food scraps and garbage, this is the most common point of conflict between the wild animal world and humans. It can range from skunk spraying to coyote attacks. As a kid I once took our family poodle out and he almost got into a scrape with a very large raccoon (who likely would have ripped his cute little face off). We were in a local wooded park, more raccoon territory than human/pet, and I took the dog off the leash. Minutes later he was in a face-off with the fierce beast. Little me didn’t know what to do so I threw sticks at both of them to separate them and then grabbed the dog. Even I had the sense to be afraid for the raccoon even the Pierre the poodle did not; I had no plans to get anywhere near him. Really though, my foolish experience is indicative of the answer: pets stay on leashes in those situations where we bring them into a habitat belonging to wild animals.
Then there are the coyote attacks. If you like those silly little dogs that look like tiny appetisers for large predators, you know what, keep them inside or keep them with you. If you live in an area that has known predator presence, you are the one being irresponsible and endangering the life of your precious living stuffed animal by letting it run around anywhere unleashed. It’s like being mad that someone eats the dessert before it’s served when it’s just sitting there on the counter. Your dog is the dessert.
If your little pet gets eaten, yes, it’s sad, but it’s not the fault of the coyote. And that should be the response of wildlife officers in any area where the devouring happens. ‘We’re sorry for your loss, but next time please don’t be so careless.’
If as a community we have educated people about their responsibilities in these human/animal conflict zones and penalised those who continue to be irresponsible, the next step we have to accept in dealing with ‘Raccoon Nation’ is trapping-permanent removal and, ultimately, killing animals. As noted, we have removed or made survival impossible for all the predators of animals like squirrels and raccoons. They either died or had to relocate because they couldn’t adapt to human environments.
I’m not an advocate for hunting or killing anything. In fact, years ago when I lived in Toronto, we had some really destructive squirrels who seemed to, out of spite, eat all the flower heads from our neighbour’s garden. At our house, they chewed through the wood of our porch multiple times to make nests. Patching was useless and they just kept coming. I called the city and was told my only option was to call in someone to catch the squirrels. S/he would then relocate them because killing the squirrels was not allowed. Hello, these guys aren’t Cecil the lion. Within a hundred metres of our house, there were probably two dozen squirrels. They weren’t endangered, and they regularly caused damage to people’s homes. When I asked the wildlife specialist what would happen once the squirrels were relocated, he said they would likely come back or do the same thing in someone else’s house.
The fact is their population (and that of raccoons) was dependent on the human environment. If their numbers were reduced, they wouldn’t have to raid garbage cans, bird feeders, and compost bins. They wouldn’t strip people’s gardens bare because the local environment would be enough to support them. So if the steps above that involve changing human behaviour don’t reduce that population, we may have to resort to a more permanent ‘removal.’ Humans themselves used to be one of the primary predators for squirrels. As Mike Sula shows us in the Chicago Reader, up until the mid twentieth century, North American regularly ate squirrel. It might be time to start dining on squirrels in our fancy head to tail locally sourced food bistros.
Back in the day with those accursed squirrels eating our porch, I couldn’t do it. Oh, I thought about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually kill them - too much guilt. Today, I would feel like it was the right thing to do. If I ate meat, I wouldn’t feel guilty about eating squirrel either. Cows are just as cute as squirrels and a lot less annoying.
As Drew Nelles discovered in the Walrus article, wild animals populations that are not dependent on human food sources are generally healthier than those that don’t. If the numbers fall, we’ll be left with healthier populations that don’t depend on humans for their food sources. And we won’t wake up to the devastation of our backyards by the invading hordes of Raccoon Nation.
Clearly killing any of the animals nibbling away at the edges of what we consider ‘our’ territory has to be a last resort. Making it difficult for them to nibble at those edges should be our first priority, but to paraphrase John Tory, there are a few more ‘stones left to turn’ in the fight against Raccoon Nation.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Monday, August 17, 2015
Calabash - A fortuitous find
I got lucky last night.
No, I'm not over-sharing. I got lucky and found Calabash Bistro. I just moved to Vancouver, and I have been checking out the culinary scene. I've been here a bit more than a week and found some great food, some mediocre food, and some disappointing food. I moved here from Thailand and have travelled a lot in Asia, so the Asian food (believe it or not) hasn't wowed me yet. Yes, I know, I have to give it time, so don't think I've reached a hasty verdict or anything. I'm just saying that I haven't been awed by anything yet.
Calabash, on the other hand, was a great surprise. I have lived in Toronto before and visit every year. Caribbean food is all over the place in Toronto. It's so much a part of Toronto that sometimes I don't think people even associate things like patties with the Caribbean. Patties are on their way to being the bagel of the Caribbean in Toronto - so common and so much a part of daily life that people forget their roots.
In Vancouver I hadn't really scene many traces of Caribbean food, so when Calabash Bistro turned out to be practically in my neighbourhood (!), I had to check it out. This is where that 'fortuitous find' thing from the title of the post comes in. From the moment I walked in the door, things felt right. The restaurant is in a cool space occupying the ground floor and basement of a beautiful Chinatown building. It's not fancy, but it's inviting. It looks like a good place to listen to music (and they do have live music sometimes), have a drink, or eat a cozy dinner.
Ultimately, though, spaces are secondary considerations in a restaurant. What matters is the food, and the food was good. The menu covers a huge range from roti to ackee fish. You'll be lucky if you can make it past the appetiser section with room to choose anything of the main courses. This is one of those places to go without your skinny jeans. If you're into rum, this is the place to see the rich offerings of the rum world.
A special mention has to be made as well about the service in the restaurant. I don't think I've been in such a friendly restaurant in Canada. Everyone was amazing, but the woman who served us, Kimberley, made it seem like we were eating at a friend's house.
Reasons to return (in order) - 1. food 2. crazy friendly atmosphere 3. music and space
No, I'm not over-sharing. I got lucky and found Calabash Bistro. I just moved to Vancouver, and I have been checking out the culinary scene. I've been here a bit more than a week and found some great food, some mediocre food, and some disappointing food. I moved here from Thailand and have travelled a lot in Asia, so the Asian food (believe it or not) hasn't wowed me yet. Yes, I know, I have to give it time, so don't think I've reached a hasty verdict or anything. I'm just saying that I haven't been awed by anything yet.
Calabash, on the other hand, was a great surprise. I have lived in Toronto before and visit every year. Caribbean food is all over the place in Toronto. It's so much a part of Toronto that sometimes I don't think people even associate things like patties with the Caribbean. Patties are on their way to being the bagel of the Caribbean in Toronto - so common and so much a part of daily life that people forget their roots.
In Vancouver I hadn't really scene many traces of Caribbean food, so when Calabash Bistro turned out to be practically in my neighbourhood (!), I had to check it out. This is where that 'fortuitous find' thing from the title of the post comes in. From the moment I walked in the door, things felt right. The restaurant is in a cool space occupying the ground floor and basement of a beautiful Chinatown building. It's not fancy, but it's inviting. It looks like a good place to listen to music (and they do have live music sometimes), have a drink, or eat a cozy dinner.
Ultimately, though, spaces are secondary considerations in a restaurant. What matters is the food, and the food was good. The menu covers a huge range from roti to ackee fish. You'll be lucky if you can make it past the appetiser section with room to choose anything of the main courses. This is one of those places to go without your skinny jeans. If you're into rum, this is the place to see the rich offerings of the rum world.
A special mention has to be made as well about the service in the restaurant. I don't think I've been in such a friendly restaurant in Canada. Everyone was amazing, but the woman who served us, Kimberley, made it seem like we were eating at a friend's house.
Reasons to return (in order) - 1. food 2. crazy friendly atmosphere 3. music and space
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Projects for TheBSide
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| View from the office |
I am one of those people who collects ideas and stories all the time. I used to file away things like pictures, articles, and recipes that made me think of things I wanted to write about, things I wanted to do, or things I wanted to make. Sadly those files usually just got fatter and fatter until I would be forced to toss them all out. With the advent of things like Diigo and Evernote, the process got even easier. And a bit neater. Even those the ideas existed in the cloud, they just piled up on me.
I've been collecting the digital equivalent for a while, only rarely getting around to doing things with them. I have about 10 unwritten draft posts or photos at any given time just waiting for me to have the time to think about them enough to properly write something. Inevitably I look at one of them and can't even remember what I initially found so interesting. Deleting is easier than filling recycling bins, but I still always end up feeling guilty for some reason. Like the time I took to assess student work, read a book, or watch a show was somehow unproductive, like I should have been using that time to do or make something brand new.
Since moving to Vancouver and taking a break from full time teaching, I am, step-by-step, starting to do some of those things that have been gathering digital dust in my Evernote and Diigo files. With a week and a day on TheBSide, I have done two little things that have been kicking around in the back of my head for years.
First on the list was roasting/drying chile peppers. One of my biggest fears about this year is being able to afford chile peppers. My wife and I love our chiles in multiple forms - in fish sauce, dried and roasted, crushed, in oil, and, of course, fresh. On our first visit to a market here, we found a giant package of fresh chiles for ONE CANADIAN DOLLAR. Now, this was a great deal, but I have no idea if, in the depths of wet Vancouver winters, those same chiles will be TEN dollars. Or even if we'll be able to find them at all.
I brought the chiles home, shook out a couple of cups worth, sliced them down the middle and roasted them. Since then, I have used them to make chile oil and to make an incredible chile paste in the mortar and pestle. I know, I know, this is a boring story, but I haven't had time to do things like this in forever.
The second project was yoghurt. I always knew, somewhere in my head, that anyone could make their own yoghurt, but I was never really clear on how. Last year, a friend in Thailand taught me how he learned to make it growing up on a moshav in Israel. I filed the idea away in my head as something to do and never had the time to do it myself. Last night, I spent about 45 minutes preparing it and this morning, voilá, I have my own yoghurt.
This move to Vancouver, to TheBSide, is full of opportunities and that's how I plan to use it. In case you were wondering, I have no plan to make it about self-indulgence and foodie-ism. These are just the first little forays. We have been here a week and two days and figure we have about two to three more weeks before we are fully settled. Our shipment will arrive, our place will be painted, and we won't have to figure out where to put everything.
That is when the fun really begins. That is when the creative, professional work that we have only been able to dabble in comes. The prospect of creating something new in education while working with someone creative and passionate about ideas is the real purpose of this year.
Sure, I'm planning on learning to tie knots and identify different trees species, but this is the dream. Even if it only lasts a year, it's a dream come true.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Changing Times (at the Bank No Less)
I have recently had the pleasure of spending a lot of time at TD Canada Trust. Yes, I know this seems unlikely, maybe even impossible, but I was pretty happy with my time at the bank. One little question that came up on some bank forms is worth noting as it reflects so much about our changing times and changing country.
The bank needed to update our profile information, something that hadn't happened for many years. We were going through the information on the different screens - address, phone numbers, etc. - when we hit an error. The system had rejected the terms 'husband' and 'wife'. They had been entered years before when the account was originally opened, but since then laws have changed, and, even more importantly, attitudes have changed. Now, the choice that best reflected our situation was 'spouse' - gender neutral and easily adapted to same-sex marriage.
Banks are not usually known for being big on change, but TD had changed. The most exciting part of it was that the two people working with us at the bank acted as if there was no other way it should be. This is the new normal. The new normal is often not such a great thing, but this one most definitely is. As the manager said, "Times have changed. We needed some new options to describe our customers."
When a bank and its staff see changes like this as the natural way to describe basic social relationships, it's a heartening sign of societal change.
And another reason I am glad to be back in my home and native land (and living on theBside).
The bank needed to update our profile information, something that hadn't happened for many years. We were going through the information on the different screens - address, phone numbers, etc. - when we hit an error. The system had rejected the terms 'husband' and 'wife'. They had been entered years before when the account was originally opened, but since then laws have changed, and, even more importantly, attitudes have changed. Now, the choice that best reflected our situation was 'spouse' - gender neutral and easily adapted to same-sex marriage.
Banks are not usually known for being big on change, but TD had changed. The most exciting part of it was that the two people working with us at the bank acted as if there was no other way it should be. This is the new normal. The new normal is often not such a great thing, but this one most definitely is. As the manager said, "Times have changed. We needed some new options to describe our customers."
When a bank and its staff see changes like this as the natural way to describe basic social relationships, it's a heartening sign of societal change.
And another reason I am glad to be back in my home and native land (and living on theBside).
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Monday, August 10, 2015
My Visit to The Press Lounge
The Press Lounge is one of those places you can't help but have a love/hate relationship with. It's has a truly beautiful view of the Mid-Town skyline in Manhattan, the Hudson River, and the shores of New Jersey. What's not to love about that, right?
Let me explain.
We chose to make a night out of dinner at Print. (yes, the period is part of the name), located on the ground floor of ink48 Hotel in Hell's Kitchen. Print. (again, the period) has a great menu grounded in locally grown, seasonal ingredients. After dinner, our plan was to head up to the roof to the Press Lounge for drinks. All three venues have a great 'story'. The building used to be a huge print house, and the printing press motif runs through more than their names.
Anyway, dinner was great, and, by dining in the restaurant, you get dibs on going up to the roof-top bar. We didn't realise what a big deal this was until we went to the bank of elevators and saw the very long queue of people waiting to go up. There was a security guard at the elevator (nice guy) and another guy sort of managing the line. Even though we got to go to the front of the line, we still had to wait a few minutes, so we got to see some interesting interactions.
We knew something was up when a young woman came up and asked, "What's up there? What are people lining up for exactly?" The guy managing the line just sort of ignored her at first, but she asked again, adding that, "I have never been here before and kind of want to know what I'm lining up
for."
At this, manager guy swaggeringly replied, "The greatest rooftop bar you have ever seen. It's the experience of a lifetime, honey." Apparently that wasn't appealing enough because she just shrugged and left.
A few minutes later, we boarded the elevator and were joined by someone we had seen in the lobby, only this time he was alone, without his friends. We asked him what happened and he said that manager guy "didn't like my friend's shorts." This was even more interesting.
The bar has a dress code (fair enough) and had said no to his friend because her shorts were ripped up the front. Ripped clothing is a tricky thing because sometimes it's fashionable while other times it's a no-no. When it's meant to be 'sexy' it usually falls on the fashionable side. Why you would wear shorts that are ripped up the front, I'm not sure, but they certainly drew attention. Especially since you could just about see where her leg joined her pelvis. Not my style, but again, you never know.
I can understand why the manager guy said no, but it raised the question, was the bar soooo good that you would ditch your friends to go up? All this ran through my head while the elevator ascended. Another couple shared the elevator with us on the way up. I didn't pay much attention to them (thinking instead about the guy bailing on his friends) until the doors opened.
Standing before us all was a large group of people. Describing them is challenging. Some were young, some were our age. Some were really loud. Some were not. Many of them were checking their phones. Most were well-dressed. A few were checking their phones. A few were...
Okay, I am dancing around the issue. This was a place people were going as much to be looked at as they were to look at the view. They were primped and polished and seemed very conscious of self (as in thinking about exactly what angle they might best be photographed from as opposed to worrying that they had a spot on their shirts). And, to be blunt, a lot of them looked like visitors.
This impression flashed in the brief seconds after the door opened. Clearly I was not alone in my impression because the couple, about whom I had only just become aware, took one step forward to exit the elevator (as is expected in such situations) and then suddenly realised this was not the place they wanted to be. They quickly backed up and the woman stepped on my foot.
Our group stepped boldly out of the elevator and headed out to the patio. It was undoubtedly beautiful. Amazing views, great breezes, and a really nice space. Perhaps we were not as quick to assess the situation as the couple from the elevator, but we knew this was not our crowd. We made a couple of laps of the place and took a couple of photos (how could you not) before discussing what to do next.
We looked at the lights and the traffic and the crowd and someone in our group said, "I know what happened! All those people from over there (pointing towards New Jersey) looked over here and saw all those pretty lights on the roof and said, 'Hey, let's go over there. It looks like a nice place for a drink.'"
We left.
Let me explain.
We chose to make a night out of dinner at Print. (yes, the period is part of the name), located on the ground floor of ink48 Hotel in Hell's Kitchen. Print. (again, the period) has a great menu grounded in locally grown, seasonal ingredients. After dinner, our plan was to head up to the roof to the Press Lounge for drinks. All three venues have a great 'story'. The building used to be a huge print house, and the printing press motif runs through more than their names.
Anyway, dinner was great, and, by dining in the restaurant, you get dibs on going up to the roof-top bar. We didn't realise what a big deal this was until we went to the bank of elevators and saw the very long queue of people waiting to go up. There was a security guard at the elevator (nice guy) and another guy sort of managing the line. Even though we got to go to the front of the line, we still had to wait a few minutes, so we got to see some interesting interactions.
We knew something was up when a young woman came up and asked, "What's up there? What are people lining up for exactly?" The guy managing the line just sort of ignored her at first, but she asked again, adding that, "I have never been here before and kind of want to know what I'm lining up
for."
At this, manager guy swaggeringly replied, "The greatest rooftop bar you have ever seen. It's the experience of a lifetime, honey." Apparently that wasn't appealing enough because she just shrugged and left.
A few minutes later, we boarded the elevator and were joined by someone we had seen in the lobby, only this time he was alone, without his friends. We asked him what happened and he said that manager guy "didn't like my friend's shorts." This was even more interesting.
The bar has a dress code (fair enough) and had said no to his friend because her shorts were ripped up the front. Ripped clothing is a tricky thing because sometimes it's fashionable while other times it's a no-no. When it's meant to be 'sexy' it usually falls on the fashionable side. Why you would wear shorts that are ripped up the front, I'm not sure, but they certainly drew attention. Especially since you could just about see where her leg joined her pelvis. Not my style, but again, you never know.
I can understand why the manager guy said no, but it raised the question, was the bar soooo good that you would ditch your friends to go up? All this ran through my head while the elevator ascended. Another couple shared the elevator with us on the way up. I didn't pay much attention to them (thinking instead about the guy bailing on his friends) until the doors opened.
Standing before us all was a large group of people. Describing them is challenging. Some were young, some were our age. Some were really loud. Some were not. Many of them were checking their phones. Most were well-dressed. A few were checking their phones. A few were...
Okay, I am dancing around the issue. This was a place people were going as much to be looked at as they were to look at the view. They were primped and polished and seemed very conscious of self (as in thinking about exactly what angle they might best be photographed from as opposed to worrying that they had a spot on their shirts). And, to be blunt, a lot of them looked like visitors.
This impression flashed in the brief seconds after the door opened. Clearly I was not alone in my impression because the couple, about whom I had only just become aware, took one step forward to exit the elevator (as is expected in such situations) and then suddenly realised this was not the place they wanted to be. They quickly backed up and the woman stepped on my foot.
Our group stepped boldly out of the elevator and headed out to the patio. It was undoubtedly beautiful. Amazing views, great breezes, and a really nice space. Perhaps we were not as quick to assess the situation as the couple from the elevator, but we knew this was not our crowd. We made a couple of laps of the place and took a couple of photos (how could you not) before discussing what to do next.
We looked at the lights and the traffic and the crowd and someone in our group said, "I know what happened! All those people from over there (pointing towards New Jersey) looked over here and saw all those pretty lights on the roof and said, 'Hey, let's go over there. It looks like a nice place for a drink.'"
We left.
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| I think I took this one while we were making a hasty retreat from The Press Lounge. |
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Friday, August 7, 2015
Something dad would have liked
He would have said, "Just wait until it rains" right after that, but he would have liked this.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Are We All Heading to Hogtown Vegan?
[Note: I just visited Hogtown last week, so I decided to repost this.]
Depending on your perspective, this is just the right amount of food or an obscenely large amount of food worthy only of a glutton. For me, when the vegetarian 'chicken' wrap is bigger than someone's arm, I call it glutton worthy.
In this case, I went to Hogtown Vegan in Toronto. It was my first time, but everyone I was with, vegetarian and non, loved the food. It was tasty enough that most people at the table attempted to eat everything on their plates (to no avail). In the end, a friend asked the server if people generally finished their meals. She laughed and said, “Almost none. Ninety percent don’t finish. The other ten percent finish AND order dessert.”
At first I laughed, but later on I got angry.
I live in Thailand and visit North America every year to see family and friends. Every year, I confront the immensity of what North American restaurants consider to be a normal meal size. I laugh about it, make fun of it, and occasionally complain about it.
At one point I took photos of cookies as large as my face, bagels with enough cream cheese to serve a family of four, salads made with what appear to be whole heads of lettuce, and pizzas as thick as War and Peace. You get the picture. When I would return to Thailand, I would tell friends the stories and laugh.
This year, though, I decided that enough was enough. Instead of ordering my own portion, I decided to share at every meal, and I haven’t finished a meal hungry yet. If I am really hungry, I have ordered an appetizer and then a main course to share.
More and more people I know, from 20 to 90 years old have some kind of digestive problem. They have acid reflux, gluten problems, irritable bowels…the list goes on. I can’t help but think it has something to do with how much people eat. I’m not saying the cause is solely portion size, but I think it could easily be a contributing factor. And of course there is that nagging little problem of obesity that the media seems obsessed with.
My strategy worked for me this summer. I ate less and left meals feeling way better. I wasn’t stuffed and ready to collapse. Nor did I wish that I had worn pants with an elastic waistband to accommodate my swollen belly. The bad part of it is that I kept feeling like some cheapskate, penny pincher every time I placed my order. ‘Really, I can afford to order my own meal. I have cash AND a credit card.’
To all those restaurants out there, charge me 25-30% less and give me 35-50% less food, and I will still be happy. You should be happy too. You save money on food and increase the chance that I will order something else. Until then, I am going to be sharing. Even if I do feel like a skinflint.
[By my estimate, this vegetarian Reuben weighed about a kilo.]
Animals in Denmark Have 'Rights'
Denmark recently announced a ban on halal and kosher slaughter practices. While at first glance this may appear as an attack on religious rights, it is far more stupid and far more open to mockery. Apparently, European Union regulations require that all animals be stunned before slaughter, but exemptions for religious practices are allowed. Kosher and halal practice requires that animals be conscious before slaughter.
In case you are wondering, no, I'm not religious. Nor am I opposed to any regulation that will protect animals from needless suffering. What I am opposed to is the absurdity of the rationale behind the ban.
According to Denmark's Minister of Agriculture, Dan Jorgensen, "animal rights come before religion."
This is an infuriating and insulting statement - insulting to anyone who believes that animals have rights and to the very notion of rights themselves. If humans choose to eat animals, ethics demand that we ensure their lives and deaths be as free from suffering as possible. That belief is based on ethics - not rights.
Consider the logic...A cow has the right(?) to be rendered unconscious before it is killed on an industrial assembly line, sliced up into pieces, packaged for delivery to stores, and eaten.
Extend the logic to humans by substituting any horrific scenario from human history and tell me that's a right. If animals had rights, one of the first one they would claim is the right NOT TO BE KILLED.
In case you are wondering, no, I'm not religious. Nor am I opposed to any regulation that will protect animals from needless suffering. What I am opposed to is the absurdity of the rationale behind the ban.
According to Denmark's Minister of Agriculture, Dan Jorgensen, "animal rights come before religion."
This is an infuriating and insulting statement - insulting to anyone who believes that animals have rights and to the very notion of rights themselves. If humans choose to eat animals, ethics demand that we ensure their lives and deaths be as free from suffering as possible. That belief is based on ethics - not rights.
Consider the logic...A cow has the right(?) to be rendered unconscious before it is killed on an industrial assembly line, sliced up into pieces, packaged for delivery to stores, and eaten.
Extend the logic to humans by substituting any horrific scenario from human history and tell me that's a right. If animals had rights, one of the first one they would claim is the right NOT TO BE KILLED.
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| Hey!!! Don't forget that I have the 'RIGHT' to be smacked in the head before you kill me. |
Sunday, August 2, 2015
#WhoWillYouHelp
I saw these ads while I was peeing yesterday. The province of Ontario paid to put these up. Happy.
[My Ontario friends, I know you have seen all these ads, but they are new to me. Another reason to be happy to be taking the small steps back to Canada.]
Hamilton - The Best of America
With that out of the way, I can say that I cried tears of joy and admiration this week while watching the Broadway musical, Hamilton.
Simply put, Hamilton embodies all the best, all the astonishing promise of America.
A younger me would have denied that such a thing existed because I would have been too focussed on the 'wrongs' of the United States. But I know the younger me would still have seen the beauty in Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton. He has captured, along with the cast, all that is great (or potentially so) about America.
His source material is Alexander Hamilton, poor immigrant dreaming of greater things, who finds opportunity in colonial New York. Whether you love the United States or not, no one can deny that the country still represents to millions around the world that opportunity for (as Hamilton sings) a shot at something better, a shot to be someone different and to reinvent oneself. Those opportunities may not be distributed evenly or fairly, but there is no denying that the U.S. offers more opportunity than most.
The entire show embodies the great strength the country derives from its diversity. The lyrics burst with the diversity of musical styles that have flourished from the fertile soils of American art. The incredible talent of the entire cast demonstrates to any and all that America has benefitted enormously from all those people who have come here (whether by choice or not) over the many years of the country's existence. The voices, dances, and brilliant minds that shaped Hamilton are distinctly American because they also have roots in many other places.
Miranda's creation does not shy away from the flaws and contradictions of the American experiment. But in showing those flaws (slavery and class, for example), Miranda shows better than most 'patriots' one of the enduring strengths of the United States - you can denounce what you believe is wrong in your country and still love it. Hamilton, the person and the play, show us all how the two are not incompatible.
So I thank you, Lin-Manuel Miranda and cast. I consider myself lucky to have witnessed your vision, your creativity, and your brilliance. I cried for a lot of reasons, but more than anything I cried for what can be.
P.S. If ever there was a reason to keep Alexander Hamilton on the $10 bill, this was it. Ditch Old Hickory instead.
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