Mister Rogers, Jeff Tweedy & Me
It's been quite the few weeks around here. As more than one person has said, "You delivered two babies in two weeks!" Of course, while I couldn't be much prouder of "Mister Rogers & Me," the film doesn't hold a candle to Maggie.
Nonetheless, the film's premiere has played a roll in my three-week paternity leave. I snuck away to the Nantucket Film Festival last week where the film was met with a wonderfully warm response. One viewer commented, "Within minutes of the film starting, my goose bumps (not to mention tears) suggested that I ...
Maggie At Ten (Days)
Maggie slept through her one week birthday (the nerve!), so I decided to celebrate ten days; seemed like a good round number. Anyway, these first few days of Maggie's life have disabused me of measurements; seconds, minutes, hours all seem to stretch and bend in this haze of feed, burp, change, repeat.
And so tonight, I made Maggie's favorite dinner, tacos, guacamole and red velvet cupcakes (ok, not really), and celebrated with my girls. As I slaved in the kitchen (ha ha), I reflected on how much I've learned in the past ten days. Take ...
Meeting Maggie
The East River isn't really a river at all, but a tidal strait between Manhattan and Long Island that, because of tides, appears to flow like one.
New York Presbyterian Hospital soars like a great, white sail over the East River. This great, granite sheet spans several blocks of Midtown East, swallowing the FDR highway whole. Looking southeast, the river below races just below, fast past Roosevelt Island and the Queensboro Bridge beyond. From inside, it's as if one is floating above the city itself, rolling along in the waves, to and fro ...
How To Change The World
If, as my former bandmate, once sang "World's change in the belly of an insect," then universes transform in a matter of years.
Little wonder, then, that I should comment to Abbi this weekend that I can't remember a period of transformation as radical as the last five years.
Five years ago, I was an Executive Producer. I lived on the Upper West Side. I played rock shows on the regular, smoked, drank, caroused, and regularly hailed cabs as dawn broke. Five years ago, I was single. Don't take my word for it, though; the archives ...
“Mister Rogers & Me” Update
In the event you haven't checked in on my other website, "Mister Rogers & Me," lately, there's a quite a bit going on. For starters, we've relaunched it.
Of course, the site's relaunch was timed to coincide with today's publication of the Nantucket Film Festival schedule.
"Mister Rogers & Me" has two official screenings: Friday, June 19 at 6:30 p.m. at Nantucket High School, and again Saturday, June 20 at 6 p.m. at Coffin School.
It fairly overwhelming but completely exciting to see our film in the NFF Ticket Guide alongside ...
Building A Mystery
For a second there, the juxtaposition of my ragged, fourteen-foot UHaul barrelling up the well-coiffed upper reaches of Park Avenue was kind of awesome. Traffic was light. The gas pedal was heavy. Midtown was in the rear-view. And there was funk on the radio.
What's more, my heart was full of freshly-minted confidence. Overnight, I'd transformed our box-strewn, bare-windowed second bedroom into something pretty closely resembling a nursery. In some six hours of construction, I'd assembled a crib and dresser, hung a pair of blinds, and ...
City Island
It took me less than an hour back in the city to spot a dead body.
I opted to shake of my sixteen-hour commute from Yemassee, SC, to New York, NY, on Amtrak's Silver Meteor last week with a bike ride (inspired secondarily by a rapidly approaching triathlon in July).
I pedaled my Cannondale north to 103d Street, then east across the pedestrian bridge connecting Harlem to Ward's Island. Ward's and the adjacent (and connected) Randall's Islands are home to huge tracts of grassa and athletic fields, as well as several public facilities, ...
The Silver Meteor
For 1600 miles and thirty hours this week, Abbi and I sat reading, writing, and resting as Amtrak's Silver Meteor ushered us roundtrip from New York City to Yemassee, South Carolina.
It was an experience.
Our 6' x 4' sleeper room was pure, NASA-age innovation. The sink folds down. The toilet folds up. The top bunk descends from the ceiling, and is narrow enough to require a web of seat belt-like webbing. Cup holder, light switches, vents, hooks, hangers and storage are tucked into every nook and cranny.
Leg room is scarce, but ...
To Do (Or, The New Normal)
Suffice to say that the twelve miles I ran from the base of the Manhattan Bridge to and twice-around Prospect Park was the easy part.
It dawned on me deep within the fluorescent-lit walls of Ikea just a few hours later to Tweet, "I am in hell." But I thought better of it on account of Abbi's feelings. This was, after all, a crucial shopping trip. Our goal was singular an clear: furnish the baby's room. And, maybe, get a little something for the kitchen.
In fact, the Ikea in Red Hook has its advantages, like its proximity to Park ...
Thirty Thousand Sunrises
If a guy's really lucky, he sees some thirty thousand sunrises.
This fact dawned on me as I turned eastward on 86th Street the other morning. The sun burst bright-ornage through the pale-green leaves as I jogged across East End Drive and I thought, "These are finite. Enjoy 'em."
The average life expectancy for a 21st Century American is 78-years-old. Leap year nothwithstanding, that's 28, 470 sunrises. Now, I was born September 4, 1971, which means I've already lived 14, 125 of them. I have just 14, 345 left. (Put another way, my ...
