Rolling The Dice In The City Named Twice

Laura and I have taken it upon ourselves to drag each Krupp sect thru NYC, kicking and screaming if be it. Yesterday we toured midtown at breakneck speed and managed to have a pretty memorable day. From towers to toy stores, pizza to polar bears we hit a restroom on every square block and wore our feet to the bone. Now they know that they never have to go back.

the photos:

fountains were a kid favorite

we had to stick our hands in quite a few

the girls had differing opinions on Bryant Park

one of the many potty breaks

the most photogenic spot in Rockefeller

calling monkeys like kitties

the polar bear was a cool moment

I got a bunch of these

this one

Yuula was the last one left watching

penguins are cool, but the overwhelming stench of feeding time was a bit much

Yuula thought the sealions were hilarious

took about 20 tries to catch just this leap

signs of fatigue

red panda wins cutest thing in the city limits

the snow leopard couldn't hide from us

Yuula found the polar bear again

both girls do their best polar bear impression

pretty nice little zoo

also had a blast feeding goats

this guy got his head caught

not afraid to lose a finger

she needed a little cow snot for her collection

the sheep was less than responsive but I would be too if they made me wear a sweater today

alpacas are some goofy looking bastards

anyone know of a massive park in the area where we can let the kids run free?

she would've run all the way to Harlem

who would've thought that a padded sinkhole would be such an awesome toy

on the way out

dude's gotta eat

In the last few blocks before getting back to the car Yuula officially went bananas and started disrobing in the streets. I worry about her sometimes.

Today, we draw. Or something.

Snow & Bubble: Together At Last

"On the Second day of Christmas Saks 5th Avenue gave to me... snowflakes & bubbles in wild 3D."

Dinner On Bleecker

After the rousing performance in midtown, there's nothing we wanted more than a delicious meal at one of the Village's fine and dimly lit restaurants. And that's what we got. Ciao Vineria Con Cucina was the chosen location. I don't think there was better choice for this night.



Our table was wobbly and smelled of oaky oils, but it only enhanced the experience. Our company was Greg to our left and Amon & Alan to our right. I sat at the head of the table where I could smell all the food passing by on its way to other patrons.




And tho Laura is not drinking any alcohol for the next few months, I couldn't help but mollycoddle a glass of chianti when Greg offered up the chance to celebrate this momentous occasion. The waiter poured a glass for Laura, so tonight I was the one who drank for two.




This was a nice place and while Amon & Greg caught up and spoke city speak Laura & I made mental notes of decor we liked.



Dinner came. Laura ordered the strozzapreti con gamberi, that's hand-rolled pasta with shrimp in a pesto cream sauce, and I had the bramzimo, a pan seared sea bass in a delicious mystery sauce served with yellow squash, spinach and roasted red peppers. Holy crap it was all so good. And the complimentary limoncello was the perfect chaser. A fine dine indeed.




The night came to an end all too soon, but everyone at the party had to be up early so... such is the life.



The long train & walk in the 12 degree weather back to Brooklyn past midnight confirmed our beliefs that Laura & I would not want to ever live in the city. We shuffled our feet past the Brooklyn Museum and managed to snap a shot to prove we survived.



So maybe that's our trip to the city for the year.

Let Me Think About It

The scene of the crime



The staging area



The cheer squad



The bakesale



The witness and paparazzo



The partner in crime



Friday night was fun tho. Greg had been commissioned by Hunter University to be part of an art performance installation based on American pageantry. The basis pretty much, explained by Darren, the charming proprietor of the gallery on west 41st street with an odd little Scottish accent, was to remove the barriers commonly found between a would-be spectator and the groups performing in each room of the warehouse. First thing that came to mind was that those barriers are really only there so someone doesn't get knocked the hell out, but hey, this might be fun.



We functioned like a normal guard unit would, showing up late and not being prepared in the slightest. We managed to throw together a few combinations thta most of us caught on to. I remained in the rear to allow for maximum entertainment and least possible injury to innocent gawkers.



And there were gawkers. Quite a few. I was surprised actually. These art show crowds can be quite easily intrigued. But not as surprised as when the Hungarian band came in blasting their sousaphones and saxomophones, skirted dancers in tow and integrated themselves into our attempts at "pageantry". My crew seemed less than amused. I loved it.



The whole shebang was only about 2 and a half hours, but considering I hadn't done this since I was 22, my limit was reached about 45 minutes in. I hung in there because it was my swan song, but I was mostly doing runs and skipping the reps. In the end I gave you a few good takes and can feel good about it being the very last time I put myself on the stage. Curtain call? Nah.



And when I took my water/text/nap breaks Laura, like a good wife, filled in for me. She hadn't learned anything but of course that didn't stop her.





She's still got it.

The evening ended up exactly how it should have. With silk hanging from the rafters and me breaking a light. It's only fair.



The All-Stars of West 41st