My kind of town

What a weekend. What a city.

Several great meals, including a magnificent dinner at one of the best restaurants anywhere followed by an unexpected bonus: a tour of the kitchen (including a quick hello and thank-you to the executive chef) provided by an unbelievably gracious waiter. A lot of walking and public-transportation-riding. (Kinda forgotten how to do that in L.A.) A solo late-night photo expedition. A completely-worth-it 90-minute wait to get into the one-and-only Hot Doug's. A picture-perfect day for Cubs baseball at Wrigley Field, which, as my wife pointed out, "smells amazing." Reunions with a couple of very special friends. First encounters with, seemingly, dozens of new high-rises that have sprung up since I left just a few years ago, including the stunning Aqua (bottom photo). And, a return to the exact spot where my wife and I first met, five years ago. 

Going to have to get back for another visit soon. If I'm lucky, I'll get a few more sights like these:

Scene in Noo Yorc

We were in the Big Apple last weekend.

I wonder whether the natives will eventually learn how to spell the name of that big expanse of recreational space that separates the east side from the west side north of 59th Street.

On the other hand, you have to admire their tasteful and sophisticated sense of humor when it comes to altering the instructions posted on hotel elevators.

I shot a bird... and a flower

... with my camera.

My ability to write anything remotely interesting has obviously deserted me for the summer. But given the proverbial worth of a picture, I believe these two photos would add up to approximately 2,000 words worth of new material. Which isn't too shabby.

I took them last weekend during a quick anniversary-celebration escape with the world's most superbly awesome wife, in Ojai, California. (Have you ever had a one-day/one-night mini-vacation that was so fun and relexing that when you got home you felt like you'd been on an actual vacation? This was one of those.)

Cue the images:

Passed tents

I went to bed wearing my earbuds last night - probably not great for my otological health - and a Michael Penn song, Strange Season, came on the iPod. The very first line of the song is: This story is past tense.

Maybe because it was 12:30 a.m., I started fixating on the lyrics, and I decided it would be a pretty great idea to write the homonyms for the last two words, "passed tents," on my left palm.

I thought that phrase would be a great name for... I don't know, something. Perhaps I could use it as the title of my next smooth jazz album or maybe I'd start a retail chain that sells deceased camping equipment. Then, I quickly remembered that I sort of suck at the soprano sax - and, for that matter, I haven't even recorded my first smooth jazz record - and that I have less than no interest in rugged outdoor sports.

So I decided I'd use it as the headline for a blog post. Which worked out great, except that - as you've noticed if you're still reading this - I really didn't have an interesting story to go along with my new clever headline.

Just so this isn't a total waste, I'll post a few photos from last weekend, when the world's best gift-giver, my gorgeous and hilarious wife,* treated me to a weekend in Hermosa Beach for my 74th birthday.**

Please pause and enjoy - I snapped 'em just for you.









* Damn, I'm lucky.
** Or something like that.

Oooey gooey diplomacy

Am I seeing things, or did Vlad Putin - Vlad and I are on a first-syllable basis - serve Toaster Strudels when President Obama arrived for breakfast yesterday?

Visual evidence from the New York Times:


Seriously, I think that look on Putin's face pretty much says: You take the strawberry strudel, Mr. Obama, and I'll go nuclear.

Oh, and if you're one of those folks who actually reads the news instead of just scanning the pretty photos, here's the story about their meeting.

One passage about U.S.-Russia diplomacy that I found interesting, if not very surprising:

Mr. Obama and Mr. Medvedev announced an agreement to open a joint early-warning center to share data on missile launchings. But Presidents Bill Clinton and Boris N. Yeltsin announced the same agreement in 1998. Mr. Clinton then announced it again with President Vladimir V. Putin in 2000. Mr. Putin and President George W. Bush recommitted to it as recently as 2007. And none of them ever actually built the center.

Well, good to know we're moving in the right direction on that front.

New York's archbishop, now in economy size

The New York Times web site today featured coverage of the installation of Archbishop Timothy Dolan.

I'm not Catholic, so I have to admit this photo really made me wonder: Are all archbishops like 10 times taller than the other clergymen, or is this guy just a freak of nature? See for yourself:

(Click to enlarge)

In other news, Daddy Geek Boy posted a list of his 10 Favorite Movie Characters (thankfully, he didn't specify "Of All Time," because that phrase is so often redundant), and then tagged me and a few other bloggers to compile our own 10 Best lists. So I've got my first-ever blog-related homework.

SFTC's crack research team has already begun culling video clips from our extensive library*, and you can expect to read the official SFTC list within the next day or two. Yeah, I can tell: You're holding your breath.

* YouTube.