ThreeTwentySeven

Snow Storm

2009-12-20T18:12:00.007-05:00

New York, NY

While most of the East Coast studied the weather forecast with subtle terror and trepidation, I was filled with glee. Granted, snow storms are easier to deal with when you live in a city and travel by car is not a necessity, but the beauty and peacefulness of snow is intoxicating. As soon as the first flakes fell, I set out to explore the canyons.

Christmas List 2009

2009-12-01T20:16:00.004-05:00

New York, NY

It's been awhile, but at the urging of friends and family, I've put together my annual Christmas list. Feel free to purchase any or all of these items for me. Thanks!

Areaware If Mode Bicycle
Smith Venue Helmet
Stowe Tickets
Snowbird Tickets
This Townhouse
Williams-Sonoma Handtowels
A Job
A Selection Off My Amazon Wish List
Donation to 826NYC
The Art of Tim Burton
Ferrari California
iPhone 3Gs
Nordica Speedmachine 120
Salomon XW Fury +Z14

Fall 2009 Photos

2009-11-05T16:28:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

With the ground covered in fallen leaves and the chill of Winter knocking on my window each morning, I figured now was as good a time as any to put some pictures up from Autumn. It should be noted I didn't take all of these pictures. Lindsey, Tim, and Patrick deserve much of the credit.

Life of Ripley

2009-10-08T18:39:00.005-04:00

New York, NY

The game is over. You win. Our relationship has lasted longer than that of anyone I've ever dated. This is odd seeing as I've attempted to kill you on several occasions. I've left you to starve. I've left without saying goodbye. I've forced you to swim in your own feces. What's more, you're constantly in an environment in which another creature, whose soul purpose in life outside of eating, sleeping, and licking her girl parts, is to eat you alive. And yet you remain.

So Ripley, after three long years, I congratulate you on making it this far. Darwin would be proud. But seriously, if you're still around for the fourth year, we're headed into the bathroom for the best water park ride ever invented.

The Walk

2009-09-21T16:48:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

I meet Tilo Gomez at his place of business; 604 feet above the Hudson River. Wearing a blaze orange vest trimmed with a day-glo green border, it's easy to spot him behind the gray-blue grating of the bridge tower. Leaning against the metal ties, his eyes are pointed out across the span toward New Jersey. He turns his head slightly when I advance, holding out his hand sideways though remaining vigilant to his duty.

With "security" stamped across the back of his vest, I wonder what he's actually protecting.

"There's ten or so a year. That's the number that actually hit the water. Most weeks we'll get one or two people who stop and look out at the skyline a bit too long. That's when we start the long walk out toward the middle of the bridge." Tilo's shoulders sink in the unmistakable indication that "the walk" is the worst part of his job.

Like all suspension bridges, the George Washington Bridge shifts and sways as it's load and the wind currents change. This movement is especially noticeable closer to the ends of the bridge. Tilo doesn't seem to notice it anymore. He's been working security on the bridge for the past three years, before that he'd worked for a private security company guarding children at a public high school in the Bronx. He does not know the exact numbers of "jumpers" he's talked back down over the years, a term I find confusingly used.

"This gig is much better," he says, turning his head toward Inwood and over to the Bronx. "I live up here, so the commute is easier." Tilo was born here, and grew up just off Dyckman Street. His parents came over from the Dominican Republic, a place whose name invokes a large smile from Tilo. He is bilingual, and his Hispanic heritage is reflected in his accent. His voice is quiet, but certain. It could be the ten people a year, but there's a reflection and a purpose to each word he sounds out. They fall off his tongue with a silent prayer affixed to them. As if there's always the possibility that those gentle tones might be the last ones someone may hear.

Tilo laughs when I ask why he doesn't carry a gun. "No, there's no need. You don't pull a gun on a jumper." I realize the stupidity of this question and subconsciously look out and down toward the river. As if to make up for my error, I ask what he'd do if a terrorist wanted to blow up the bridge. He points to his walkie-talkie indicating that would be his first line of defense. "Plus," he says with a knowing smile, "this sucker was built really well. Stuffing a backpack full of explosives would only kill the person wearing it and flake some paint off the side of the bridge."

We walk out on the bridge and I ask him about his family. He tells me about his older brother who is a patent attorney downtown. "He's traveled all over the world. He loves to talk about it, and his feelings and ideas on politics. Mostly I just sit and listen. It's him showing off for himself. Making him feel better about the choices he's made."

"And the choices you've made?" I ask. "How does he feel about you up here on the bridge?"

"He thinks I'm wasting my time. Wasting my life. But he doesn't understand the feeling you get when someone steps back over the guard rail and gives you a hug for saving their life. That's something you can't bottle or get from a tour guide. And no college book can adequately explain that feeling. It's genuine."

We're in the middle of the bridge now, the green waters of the Hudson rush past the submerged rocks of Jeffery's Hook. The River looks both serene and menacing.

"Do you ever get jealous of your brother and his travels?"

Looking back toward the Manhattan tower, Tilo takes a moment and smiles "No, that walk is the longest trip I ever want to make."

One Second More

2009-09-15T10:19:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

The GPS estimated time of arrival is cruelly accurate. Its algorithms and recalibrations directly affected my mood. With salt water stains scalloped on the windshield, we drove through the dunes, past the crashing waves, and ultimately farther away from the ocean. 6:24pm. We'd be back in the city at exactly that time. Gripping the wheel, I felt like I was in a car commercial, skipping around turns, turning the sea grass into a haze of green. I expected a helicopter to dance over head, grabbing choice shots of my exceptional driving technique as I sped home. This drive would be easy.

My grip grew tighter on the wheel when the GPS's arrival time hit 6:30pm. We were stopped behind a Honda Pilot which had at least five bikes stapled to the back of it. The GPS nor my iPhone would give me an indication of the traffic on the road. It was Labor Day, and I expected this. 7:12pm. I longed for the first three miles of the drive. They'd been so fun. So quick. We'd gone a total of 12 miles in 45 minutes. Surely this was the worst of it.

The wave had been big. I knew this as I paddled in its trough, waiting for it to lift me onto the crest. I'd calculated the advance perfectly. Shoving me down the wall in an explosion of thunder and wash, I expected this to be an awesome sight for everyone on land. I hoped my hair looked good. The girls playing paddleball on the beach would surely stop to see this man best nature in a display of power and skill. I'd have to remember to bring a pen down to the beach later in the day to sign the requisite autographs. There was, however, a slight miscalculation. I'd started off too far up on the board. When the wave crashed, it flipped the back of the board up, tossing me forward and underwater. Flipping and turning through the turbulent water, the first thing to hit was my lower back. I twisted violently left, unsure of which way was up. My head hit the sand second, the wave using it as a pivot point to toss my body feet first toward the beach. Still underwater, I felt the crush of water sitting on my chest. I don't remember how I made it to the surface, let alone how I had the strength to stand up. I recall vividly that I couldn't breathe, and a mother playing with her child on the beach looked at me with concern. My head hurt, I couldn't find my breath, and I struggled toward dry land.

Sitting on the sand with my dignity expelled with each troubled breath, Lindsey came running toward me from the surf. Gathering whatever wits I'd had left, I told her I was fine, but I'd better sit the next few swells out. Grabbing my board, I walked back to our beach chairs with my other hand nursing my sore lower back.

Sitting in this traffic, not moving, my back started to throb. This would be a long and laborious crawl to the finish of summer. It took us three hours to move 50 miles. Breaking free of the traffic, our estimated time of arrival was registering at a precise 8:29pm. Letting go of safety, and concern for Lindsey, I had one single goal: to get that number down by speeding like an asshole.

This was a summer of living on the edge, loss, excitement, and love. In between golf swings, burning boats, jet skis, and small plane rides, the summer unexpectedly became a classic. And while we crawled along the highway, it became clear that it wasn't going to die quickly.

We arrived back in the city at 8:24pm. I'd shaved an awesome five minutes off our goal. With a sore back and a mind scrambled by hours of driving, I climbed the stairs up to my apartment and crumbled into my bed. With windows wide open, the last few breezes of summer danced around my room reminding me they'd be back soon, and with a brand new summer to set their rhythms by.

3 Chords More

2009-08-12T11:17:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

We continue to crank out episodes of 3 Chords & the Truth. They've been getting better and better, and if you have a few minutes to kill, they might be worth checking out.

And for those of you who are fans of outtakes, we put together a short reel of some of the random things we discuss before (and after) each taping.

New Camera, New Photos

2009-08-07T08:02:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

Having recently purchased a new camera, I figured I'd better take it out and experiment with it before I left for my trip this weekend. As is typical of me, I began by taking pictures of my cat and then headed to Riverside Park South for some shots. These were the results:

KFAC IX

2009-08-01T12:41:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

Nine years is a long time to be doing this. We're just shy of a decade and, oddly, it doesn't feel that long. Yet, last Saturday we completed the ninth annual Kayak for a Cause! As you no doubt already know, I gave up on kayaking the event years ago. 12 miles is much more fun when you're sitting on a gas-fueled water rocket that can propel you in 20 minutes the same distance it would take you 3 hours in a kayak. This year, I convinced Lindsey and several friends (including my brother, whose photos are below) to join in the event. Not only was it an amazingly beautiful day, it was capped off by a great performance by the one and only Donavon Frankenreiter.

Fate Upside the Head

2009-07-23T18:53:00.008-04:00

New York, NY

The first story I ever wrote was called "Atari" and in it, the main character (which was me) spoke about playing his friend's Atari and how great it was. The plot was weak. The characters were as developed as the pixelated sprites on the screen. And the ending, though lost through time, was something similar to, "I love playing Atari. The end." There was no twist. One couldn't dive into the story to discover the Atari was an extension of the friend - a phallus - and there was an entire homoerotic subtext to the tale. No, it was my first attempt at writing, and it showed absolutely no signs of genius, spark, or intellect. Most likely, the story grew withered and moldy and was eventually thrown out with a pile of other grade school projects that'd succumbed to their age.

In retrospect, and in direct opposition to everything I'd ever wanted the direction of my life to take, it has been an incredibly twisted road up to this point. I went to college for Architecture. I played the French Horn and Trumpet. I designed web pages and learned programming code. All of this, I suppose, was an attempt to hide who I really was. While I'd pursued these other endeavors with earnest, I was constantly going back to one thing ... creating stories.

In high school, while everyone else was getting drunk at kegs on the beach, or trying to score with the cheerleaders, I'd convinced my small but loyal group of friends to make movies using my family's video camera. And, unlike my Atari story, these had both character development and plots. They were far from masterpieces, something one could tell based on several of the titles alone. (Tampons of Terror, Green Balls from Ballivia, The Mystery of Anigav Island, etc...) But they were fun as hell to make, and probably represent some of my favorite memories from high school.

College was similar. While my peers stayed up late to build balsa wood models of houses, I'd leave the studio early in order to work the 4am-7am disc jockey shift at the campus radio station. While I sat at my drafting table, cutting and gluing together pieces of wood, I was dreaming of the skits I'd write for that night's radio show. (I got wise and switched my major to Creative Writing after the first year, though I took a major misstep when I accidentally enrolled in Women's Early European Literature. A mistake I realized I'd made as soon as walked into class the first day and noticed no other men in attendance.)

While working at Letterman was a fantastic experience, aside from doing the warm-up each night, or sending in segment ideas to the producers when they'd rarely ask for them, it was almost purely uncreative. They weren't paying me to think. They were paying me to put butts in seats.

The same goes with Marketing and Advertising. My favorite days were when I'd be invited into brainstorming sessions and help flesh out ideas. We'd spend hours coming up with stuff - daydreaming really. And it was something I could sink my teeth into. Though, I'd often have to leave early in order to manage clients and accounts. It grew worse and worse as I went from job to job; stifling away my creative urges in order to make it to that higher income bracket. After all, writing doesn't pay.

True, writing for YesButNoButYes was and is a highlight. But often I'd rush through the pieces I put together during my lunch break, without putting any real thought into them. I was overworked, stressed, rarely sleeping, and struggling to spend my free hours not consumed with work. But then, just when I thought all hope was lost, serendipity took one large step into the room, grabbed me by the ears, shook me around, and set me back on course.

As of last Friday afternoon, I've been hired to write for a pilot on Comedy Central. (Title to be determined.) My job, really, is just to think stuff up all day. That's it. Just sit around and think. Daydream. Imagine. Be funny. And it's like trying on a pair of well cut jeans, everything fits perfectly. I spent last weekend writing for the show and was in the office this week while we auditioned hosts. Today, I went to the park and wrote - outside and next to the river - for the better part of six hours.

It took a long time to get here. There were many wrong turns. But ultimately, I've discovered happiness. And it is with great pleasure that I say: My name is Adam and I'm a writer.

Beach Listening

2009-07-23T09:22:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

It wouldn't be summer without me submitting a playlist for all your summer listening needs. (My apologies for the random links, it's becoming harder and harder to find almost legal Mp3s online).
Give Me the Meltdown - I want to not like Rob Thomas. No man is supposed to like Rob Thomas. But he knows how to write songs and make them catchy. This little gem (with a chorus of chords ripped straight out of Baba O'Riley) was so addictive that I found myself unknowingly singing it out loud on my walk home from work.
Ramble On - I'm anticipating a thunderous smackdown at the hands of the rock gods for even thinking about this next sentence. But I prefer Train's version to Led Zepplin's. I know, ok? It's blasphemy. It's wrong. But this song is so well done. Perfect for cruising in a car. (Convertible is preferred)
Alambre Alto - From the Cirque Du Soleil show Kooza. With its Spanish and Arabian influences, the song is aurally interesting and textured. (We also sample part of it for the 3 Chords credits)
Life, Love, and Laughter - Kayak for a Cause was lucky enough to score Donavon Frankenreiter as their featured performer at this year's event. We used this song for the promotional video.
Shake Me Like a Monkey - A kick-ass horn section is a great way to start off the best Dave Matthews Band album since Before These Crowded Streets. This gives me hope for the future of the band. Definitely a departure, but in a good way.
I'm On a Boat (feat. T-Pain) - For obvious reasons, this song has been a staple on my iPhone throughout the summer. (Even better when watching it with the accompanying video.) Anyone that can rhyme "nautical themed pashmina afgan" deserves a ton of credit in my book.
Rock & Roll - You'll enjoy this one.

Beach Reading

2009-07-08T18:43:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

Recent stories published on YesButNoButYes:

Cultured on the Subculture - In which our hero heads to Williamsburg for some peace, love, and understanding.
New York City Sidewalk Rules - In which our hero explains to the world how to properly walk on the sidewalk in Manhattan.
The Leather Party - In which our hero decides when and where is a good time to wear leather.
A Scratch in the Attic - In which our hero is sent to his potential death at the hands of a mysterious creature.
Jon & Kate Plus Who Gives a Fuck? - In which our hero wonders how and why we should care about a cultural phenomenon.

Please forgive the poor grammar, non-connected ideas, and lost tangents. Most of these (all of these actually) were written during various lunch breaks.

So Much to Say

2009-06-12T17:25:00.008-04:00

New York, NY

To say the last few months have been a whirlwind would be a gross understatement. This was the time of non-stop movement. Travel, weddings, funerals, parties, and a tremendous amount of work in-between. I honestly can't remember the last time I was so exhausted. However, and at Lindsey's suggestion, I've decided not to take on any new projects. (Well, there is one, but I'm contractually obligated not to divulge it ... yet.)

Now that I have a few moments to sit down and write a proper blog post, I thought I'd give some recommendations. It's been awhile.

Shake Shack - I can't believe it's taken me so long to recommend this. I eat here so frequently that Lindsey has asked that I reduce my intake to just once a week. So far I haven't strayed the course. But the late-night cravings do kick in...
The Hangover - I was sure I'd hate this movie. I didn't.
Palmetto Bluff - Upon arriving, I remarked how much like the Truman Show it was. We were so pampered - they actually thought for us.
Pier I Cafe - If the crowds at the Boat Basin are getting to you, head south a few blocks enjoy the sunset on the pier.
YesButNoButYes - Yep, I still write for them. I get paid to write for them. My latest article is Top Ten Cars That'll Get You Laid, though no actual research was attempted.
3 Chords and the Truth - We're still taping them and they're getting MUCH better.

And, because I've had a few of these photos sitting on my work computer, I thought I'd share for you non-Facebook people.

When you get outside Manhattan, you can see these things called "stars". Quite amazing really.

In the South, they have this thing called "porching" which requires you sitting on your ass, playing Scrabble, and drinking lemonade and eating homemade chocolate chip cookies. So civilized.

Lindsey thought she looked like a 50's movie star or Jackie O. Her mom saw the photo and thought she looked like a terrorist.

Linds runs after her well hit ball.

Wedding season has begun. Crap.

Does it look like I know what I'm doing? Because, honestly, I have no fucking clue.

This is Dufton. Trust me when I say he's one of the most badass dudes I know.

Tim's comment: "I'm sure you reached the fairway with this one."

A Weekend of Laughter

2009-06-01T10:46:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

"If I knew someone who lived the life I did, I'd be jealous."
-My Grandmother, Virgina Ferguson

Surrounding yourself with love and laughter is the best way to cope. And that's just what we did this past weekend. Having all the Ferguson cousins (all five of us) in one spot is a rarity. Our Grandmother's memorial service brought us all together. And despite the passing of our grandmother, you'll notice something similar in all these photos - we're smiling in every single one. It was a weekend of laughs, captured exquisitely by my brother's lens.

Virginia Ferguson

2009-05-26T10:15:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

The image that's been playing over and over in my head for the past five days is me as a three year-old, running into the arms of my grandmother. This was taken on my grandfather's 8mm film camera, and represents the earliest moving picture of me. And in those few seconds of celluloid, there is pure happiness. Both from me and my grandmother. And that's really what our relationship was based on - love and joy at being around one another.

After my grandfather died, my grandmother moved to Palm Beach. She found relaxation and comfort in the sub-tropical air, and daily walks on the beach collecting seaglass. On one of our many trips down, we stood near the pool at night, with the warm (and constant) ocean breeze dancing around us. She pointed to a star hanging low in the sky and said that was her husband looking over her, making sure she was alright. And I believed her. She said it with such gravitas, and such compassion, that it was impossible not to.

My grandmother rarely laughed. This isn't to say she wasn't a happy person, but to actually make her laugh was a challenge. And even if you were to get a laugh out of her, it would be nothing more than a light chuckle. Blink and you'd miss it. A few weeks ago, I made a trip up to Connecticut to see her. Somehow, despite her confinement to a wheelchair, and the series of tubes that ran from her body, I was able to make her laugh. (Suggesting we tie her wheelchair to the bumper of the car and drag her around the parking lot seemed, oddly, to do the trick). In that moment, we shared, again, that love and joy once more.

Tonight, if you find yourself beneath a cloudless sky, look west and close to the horizon. You might see two stars burning brighter than you'd ever seen before.

3 Chords & the Truth

2009-05-13T09:59:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

A few weeks ago, my friend, former roommate, and former co-worker, Johnny, asked if I wanted to put together a video podcast for YesButNoButYes. We hashed it out over lunch one day, which is to say, we said "let's talk about stuff and see what happens." We started shooting them a few weeks ago with the aim to keep them under 5 minutes. (This didn't happen, in fact they've become increasingly longer.) But I think with the last one, we finally found our stride.

There are still some things to be worked out, like the strange black line on the side of some of the videos, no doubt due to differing aspect ratios. But I hope you enjoy them! If nothing else, you'll actually be able to hear me talking on this blog, which I'm not sure has ever really happened before.

Episode 3, Part I

Episode 3, Part II

Episode 2

Episode 1

The Twits of Twitter

2009-04-21T17:25:00.006-04:00

New York, NY

I promised myself I wouldn't buy into all this Twitter madness. I opened an account a year ago and managed to eek out 4 "tweets" before I lost all interest and realized no one would care about my random exploits in 140 characters or less. I honestly thought no one would care about what anyone ate for breakfast, let alone what I ate for breakfast. (Of course, upon further investigation, I realized this blog was just that.) So with all this Twitter madness of late, I thought I'd give it another shot. I'm making it easy for you, while you could hop over and "follow" me here, you can also see my "Twitter" on the sidebar of this very blog! I'm not sure how long this will last, and it's truly in the experimental phase. So check it out, tell me what you think about me telling you what I think.

The Reading List

2009-04-09T17:59:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

Too busy/dumb to read a whole book? Trying to kill time at work? Why not read some of my articles at YesButNoButYes.

Such as a Kite - What else are you going to do in Amsterdam?
Commuting Suicide XXXI - Yes, I'm going to Hell.
The Drug Mule - It isn't illegal to smuggle drugs back into the country, right? Right?
The Deal Breakers - Because a man wants what a man wants.
An Open Letter to the Restaurant That Gave Me Food Poisoning on Friday Night - Yeah, it was just that bad.
Commuting Suicide XXVII - I finally figured out the reason why New York always smells like piss.
Cast Into the Pit of Hades III: Not Above Stealing From a Friend - I use a public forum to rant about things I hate.
While the Cat's Away... - What would you do if you had free time and keys to your girlfriend's apartment?
Hobo Decorum - Seriously, can't we all agree that we hate homeless people?
Expelling Flatus - Sadly, hot chicks fart too.

Celebrating 30 Years on Planet Earth

2009-04-07T17:08:00.012-04:00

New York, NY

The worst part about turning 30 years old is once the celebrating is over, you actually have to deal with the fact that you're old. Luckily, the celebrating continued into a second week as Lindsey threw me a dinner and party to remind me that I'm still young at heart. And with friends who came from far (Miami), sort of far (Vermont), and not so far (Connecticut), I hope the party was worth it.

Mitch, having left the wife and kid at home, relived his past days at the Late Show.

Lindsey proving, once again, that she is not 30 ... yet.

Erin happily sent me several e-mails over the past few weeks reminding me that I'm 30 and finished each one with "sucka". She will not be invited to my 31st.

I know 2 of the people in this photo.

The former roomies.

You'd have disdain too if you dressed alike ... unintentionally.

And there you have it. Another year, another celebration. Thanks to everyone who came out. There's a swath of people missing from the photos, something I attribute not to my lack of appreciation but to the photographer. (Lindsey) Thanks again to everyone, especially Lindsey for busting her ass and organizing the whole thing. It really was a fun night!

Waiting

2009-04-01T22:54:00.005-04:00

New York, NY

Most projects with Mitch start like this:

"So I was thinking, wouldn't it be cool..."

They end either with me pacing back and forth nervously backstage at Carnegie Hall, or slumped in my chair and hiding my face while watching songs we'd written get chopped up and destroyed in front of a live audience by less-than-stellar vocalists. But sometimes these projects turn out to be rather enjoyable. (In fact all of them are enjoyable, it's just the end products that get marred by outside forces ... like alcoholic theater directors.) Mitch asked me to direct a music video for his song "Waiting" and I jumped at the chance to do it. The process involved scouting locations, setting up shots, me hanging out his SUV while I took video of "regular people" in Harlem going about their business, and story-boarding. We brought our good friend Evan on board as the director of photography, and the three of us edited the shit out of it for three long nights in my apartment.

Evan, Mitch and me at the end of a long night of editing. Why we're in my shower, I can't seem to remember.

Nature Poked Me in the Head

2009-03-28T23:17:00.001-04:00

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

I turned 20 on the shores of the Seneca River in Clemson, South Carolina. I was there for a Crew race, one in which I believe we took home the silver. The day came and went without much fanfare, though knowing my team we probably ate at an Outback Steakhouse between the race and Miami in order to celebrate.

For 30, I thought we'd try something different. And who better to ring in my 30s with than the man I came into this world with. We decided, after much deliberation, to spend an extended weekend in Amsterdam and take in all the city had to offer. And we shall... (Censored pictures to come)

I've tried to find some meaning in turning 30. And the meaning almost inevitably turns to reflection. I'll admit, the big "3-0" was a tough one to stomach. But had I lived my 20's to their fullest? Did I have any regrets? Am I where I thought I'd be at 30? Where I should be?

My 20s were a definite rollercoaster. Highs and lows, but all in all an average of excellence. I'd travelled, I'd worked (and worked, and worked). I'd loved, lost, loved, lost and ultimately loved again. And I've basically (with a few great additions) kept the exact same fantastic friends I'd come into my 20s with.

So no regrets. No remorse. No thoughts of failure. And they say your 30s are the new 20s, right?

If you need me, I'll be counting grey hairs in this ridiculously awesome Dutch bathroom mirror.

Get Caught Up

2009-03-05T10:30:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

I've been receiving a bunch of flack about the lack of updates on this blog. So, for those of you complaining (see previous post) or too lazy to head to YesButNoButYes, I've compiled some of my favorite posts I've written over the past few months.

The Holiday Update - I wrote a year-end summary of the exploits of the YesButNoButYes staff.
PAX-ed Off - I attended a video game expo in Seattle and barely lived to write about it.
Dust - In case you were unaware, I'm not exactly a fan of organized religion.
Practice, Practice, Practice - I reminisce about my very brief stint at Carnegie Hall.
The Twisted Path to Democracy - How I became a Democrat.
Commuting Suicide XXIX - I get into a bus accident en route to Washington, DC ... on New Year's Eve.
Dave's Sixth Challenge - I ask a loyal reader what I should do when confronted with strange foods at an upscale restaurant.
Thoughts During a Massage - We have a couples massage and all I can think about is that I have to fart.
Top 10 Rules for the Office Holiday Party - I followed all but two of them.
Reader Mail - I respond to some of our reader mail ... in case that wasn't obvious.
Unemployment Journal - The chronicles of an unemployed man.

An Update

2009-01-23T14:10:00.002-05:00

New York, NY

Linds,
I've updated my blog. You're welcome.

-Ad

The Playgroup

2009-01-09T14:56:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

My parents managed to move to a neighborhood in suburban Connecticut that had couples expecting children within the year. This meant that my brother and I had a built-in group of friends literally across the street. One of these kids, Paul (lower right-hand corner) managed to find this photo in a shoebox and uploaded it to his Flickr account and contacted me via the omnipresent eye of Google.

This photo is notable for a number of reasons. First, I estimate it was probably taken somewhere between 1982 and 1983 and it's amazing what changes in 27 years. Second, while sporting the bowl-cut that I'd have for the better part of 15 years, it looks as if my mother cut my hair herself. Third, despite being twins, Eric and I have no resemblance to each other at all, yet we were still dressed alike. (Something I attribute to the ease of buying in bulk). Finally, it's who is actually featured in this photo. While I still talk to my brother, I have little to no contact with the five other kids. It's funny that people in your life, who you were insanely close to through forced social situations, can become nothing more than blips in your memory only a few years later.

It'd be fun to get the gang back together and take a picture on that stoop again.

Ciao 2008!

2009-01-05T18:15:00.001-05:00

New York, NY

The first post of the new year is something I'll always cherish. They're always full of hope and excitement. Then, of course, life takes hold and delivers something altogether different. I hesitate to even say this, but there's no way 2009 can be worse than 2008, right? Right? Of course, this isn't stopping me from building a bomb shelter in my backyard and storing canned goods beneath my bed.

The last day of the year went exactly as expected. I was in a bus accident en route to Washington, DC. (Don't worry, no one was seriously hurt) Though it was followed up by some excellent food, several drinks, a warm fire, and great friends. With that, I bid 2008 a great farewell with some final photos.

Christmas
Boxing Day
(I almost uploaded pictures from New Year's, but then thought better of it. I was surrounded by doctors, lawyers, bankers, and CIA agents and thought certain photos may not go over well with their bosses. Hence, you'll have to imagine the sort of tomfoolery that went around.)