Swiss Cottage stop. Best people watching spot, ever:
Hard to see, but it’s the Fattest Pigeon Ever! Philadelphia is known as the fattest American city for hoomans, but I’m quite sure London is the fattest city in the world for pigeons. I’m surprised he/she/it flew away.
Hotel. Regent’s Park, London. BISCUITS!
Charterhouse Square, London.
“The door is now opening.”
“The door is now closing.”
Thanks robo-lady. Bad house.
There’s spirituality and then there’s religion. Two different things.
You’re daft not to have some spirituality (i.e. some sense of the beauty of the world, based on evidence). Working for one’s species and one’s world based only on some kind of cold, scientific morality quickly falls apart when things are really bad or out of control.
Some concept of spiritual connectedness can augment such an “objective” world where everyone simply stands alone. It’s not to particularly deny that, when it all comes down to it, we don’t stand alone; but, it does particularly affirm some other connectedness among everything in this physical world.
Religion is an emotional response to facing one’s own consciousness and subconsciousness. Religion evolved in lock step with the evolution of our consciousness, and it is absolutely required for most people in this world to stay sane.
On the other hand, for agnostics and atheists, science and rational thought have created this psychology of rationally looking at oneself. But let’s be honest, this takes time, energy, turmoil, and confusion. The people who stand by you while you go through this are good friends, but sometimes their motivations can be questioned. The ones that help you through this are your true friends. You only find true friends during these times of turmoil.
If you choose a rational self-analysis, then you have to decide whether to do it when you’re young or when you hit your mid-life crisis, but at some point, you will have to do it, unless you drown yourself in drugs or some other addiction (this makes no judgment on positive moral addiction as such). A sad number of people never do such a rational self-analysis (excluding, of course, the religious, since they aren’t required to do a rational self-analysis).
It just dawned on me, but I never knew that I had a choice about when to do this self-confrontation. Hedonism sure sounds fun while all my body parts are in tip top shape, but I’d rather confront things now rather than when I’m stuck in some random situation later in life.
Background:
A helicopter. To JFK. 8 Minutes. From Manhattan. Beautiful view of said Hattan. No going through the effin’ TSA airport security.
All for $45.
Less than a cab.
Isn’t the economy supposed to be tanking? Oh wells!
Awesome Chi-town:
Anyone who says that they categorically like or dislike New York City hasn’t really experienced it. “The” City has all the complexities of a human being. One day it’s in a good mood, and the next day it wants to kill. Some parts of it are idealistic, and others are gutter dirty. It goes wild, and it goes somber. It has sleepless nights, and sometimes it gets comfy under blankets.
I’ve been to a lot of places around the world and I’ve met a lot of people thanks to my profession. New York is one of only a handful of cities that pulls this off. Most other cities, small and large, are just wombs for a simple or confused existence (you pick). Every once in a while, there’s a lucky man or woman in these other cities that gets pretty damn close to figuring things out.
From Koblenz to Raleigh, and from Poughkeepsie to Bern, I’ve met people that have things figured out. Whether they’re a Stuart Smalley delusion, self-made geniuses, or lucky bastards, they’ve just got it. On the other hand, everyone is confused in New York. I’ve yet to meet anyone like that in New York, from CIOs to hoods in the slums of the Bronx.
But somehow, New York as a whole just gets it. And since I doubt I’ll ever figure things out, The City makes me feel comfortable.
All that having been said, I love New York (that is, when I don’t hate it).
Hee hee:
Tips
After my R.V. overheated I had to improvise on where to sleep. I got a lucky view:
Day 3 for the R.V. I had big plans today, and they all fell apart… for the better. I planned to drive all the way to a state park near Montauk at the tip of Long Island- that way I could avoid NYC traffic when taking the R.V. back tomorrow morning. Oy vey, I have a new respect for truck drivers in NYC… Google maps also needs a “for trucks” feature.
The plan was to drive from NJ to Staten Island, then onto Brooklyn over the Verrazano Bridge, and then onto the Belt Parkway to eastern Long Island. That fell apart quickly. I was supposed to make a left onto the Belt Parkway at the end of the Verrazano, but it said no trucks! Lucky for me, there was an “Belt Parkway Alternate Route sign” to take 92nd street… or so I thought.
After weaving around Brooklyn side streets for 10 minutes, nearly clipping who knows what with this massive thing, I finally see the sign for the alternate route! Whoops, also no trucks over 10’5″. Uhhhh. I parked and fire up the laptop. It turns out parkways are not for trucks — only express-ways. How could I be so dumb.
So, it was now 4 PM, and the alternate route taking major highways would take another 3 hours. Oof. So I started and I hit the next hurdle. Traffic was killer, and it was Stop & Go. As I was about to get onto I-278, the R.V. stalled! New York is the worst place to have car problems. People need any excuse to honk and scream to reach their daily quotas. I calmed down, gave it a minute and it started again! Yay. The engine probably just overheated from the Stop & Go movements. Then, not more than 3 minutes after that, I’m approaching I-278 and what do you know — no trucks over 12′! AHHH, it’s a friggin interstate highway! I pulled off onto Atlantic Ave and started searching for a parking spot to fire up the laptop once again. I drove around for a few minutes, and finally saw an opening… Pier 3 @ Fulton & Joralemon. This has to be one of the most awesome views of downtown NYC. I guess this is also where art goes to die, because the massive waterfalls they had underneath the Brooklyn Bridge were parked in a construction zone here. They were still flowing… to keep up the morale of the construction workers, I guess?
A nice little Indian security guard assured me I could park here, so I went off urban adventuring (pictures will soon follow).
The funniest thing was as I was walking down on the South side of the street, I saw a small light and pedestrian crossing. What was odd though, was that there was no sidewalk on the North side, just concrete. It turns out the massive concrete wall was a front to the subway, and this was an emergency exit. But why was the pedestrian crossing system necessary for crossing into a big wall? I guess it must trip if the emergency door opens? The funny part was that, as with all pedestrian crossings, there was a button on my side to push to turn the light green. BAHAHAHAHA! I pushed the button, and lo’ and behold, the light turned green. Unsurprisingly, the cars stopped, like sheep, even though it was absolutely impossible for humans to be crossing there!
I miss being mischievous.
Jumping spiders are nightmarish.
I was driving down Pennsylvania avenue toward my campsite after romping around the Library of Congress. I got my permanent, “researcher” ID card to get into the reading room. The guy at the counter used to work at IBM, so I was a shoe in.
The reading room in the Jefferson library was awesome and exactly how I had imagined it would be. The Library of Congress is the largest library in the world apparently. I’ve never seen so many Charles Caleb Colton books immediately available.
As I was driving back around 7pm, I stopped at a light. I look down and see a spider crawling up my arm. Uhhhhh… I tried to stay calm, and then it jumps on my shorts, right near Mr Happy! The light turns green, so I have to think fast. I see a pseudo-parking spot ahead of me, so i flick the spider toward the pedal and get to the parking spot right quick. After I parked, I flew back into the cabin. I regained my composure and slowly approached the spider. It was crawlin’ all up on my shiz, on the chair and jumping to my water bottle.
I had my shoe in hand, but… what if I missed? Mom gave me a large “survival guide” book.. that should work. I approached like a hungry cat and SMASH. My only concern… a vengeful spider wife tonight…
Today was a long, but amazing day. I’m tired. Sleeping in an RV is so quiet.
Dead spider:
Library of Congress:
Don’t ask where I took this. It’s secret.
D.C.:
R.V. park:
