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I woke up at five after just three hours of restless sleep. “Golden Days” director Chris Suchorsky and I’d had at least one beer too many the night prior. All that talk about film festival dos and don’ts had my head spinning all night. A five o’clock wake normally inspires a quick visit to the…

Stepping into The Distinguished Wakamba Lounge is like stepping off the continent. The air-conditioned 30° afternoon notwithstanding, the place feels more Puerto Rico than Eighth Avenue. Despite its proximity to Port Authority, there in the center of Manhattan’s last remaining sketchy neighborhoods, this railroad flat turned themed dive bar is well considered. Faux sea creatures,…

Once again, The Dead Poet has provided another dose of crazy serendipity. I’m beginning to think the place is some sort of Twilight Zone or Time/Space Portal. Let me set the scene. Abbi and I have just stepped out of Chris and Jen’s Upper West Side apartment following a five hour babysitting stint. As adorable…

My friend, Tricia Martin, sent an email on Friday with this blurb from The Des Moines Register: “Are you planning to compete in the June 22 Hy-Vee Triathlon in Des Moines? Are you willing to blog about your training experiences?” “The Register has 10 entries to give away, and we are looking for a cross-section…

“Do you know what the capital of Djibouti is? Djibouti.” It seemed funny at the time. I think it might have even warranted a knee slap. Which is often the case when you’re three beers in at Rockwood Music Hall. Back home in Hell’s Kitchen watching Frontline, though, I’m not entirely sure what I found…

I find the psychodemographics of grocery shopping kind of amusing, and maybe even a little bit insightful. I mean, who among us hasn’t snuck a look at another patron’s cart, or rendered some sort of judgement in the check-out aisle? In a way, one’s purchases are deeply revealing stuff. A brand says a lot about…