p s e u d o r e a l
Better Than Real Because It's Not.
Filed under: General
(June 26) Viza and I went to a presentation at the Marriott Marquis, and then afterward to cleanse ourselves of Times Square, we walked over to the High Line. I like the park, but it seems to me the view is more interesting than the park itself. I’m not sure if that’s what they intended or not.
You can still (barely) see the tracks
In 2010, it’s hard to imagine locomotives several stories overhead
Mr. Trains
New Jersey. You don’t want to go there. Nobody does.
I wonder what it costs to live in those apartments
While we were there, I counted dozens of cars, mostly cabs, running the stop sign.
The ExhibitionistStandard Hotel is built above the High Line and offers parkgoers a free peep show.
Filed under: General
(June 12) Needed to go for a walk. It was too late to go grocery shopping, so I went behind the train station this time, and kept going.
When I was a kid, this was just a dipshit train station. Now it’s the end of the electrified line, and it’s a huge complex.
Filed under: General
(June 6) Paid a visit to Lindsay and Delilah. I’m always happy to see her for a number of reasons. Took in some eye candy at the park while I waited for her to get home. It reminds me how much I miss Brooklyn and the life I had there.
I finally got a shot of this in the daylight
I don’t quite get the message, which includes dudes paddling bathtubs.
Mr. Chicken apparently lives around here
Moo.
Filed under: General
Sunday. (May 30) Where else would I be?
We missed the turnoff for the Queensborough Bridge, and ended up going through the Midtown Tunnel after paying a delightfully outrageous toll.
“Apparently it’s all the same song.” – Pete
Filed under: General
Time has not passed easily here in the wastelands.
Those of a certain age or those who’ve worked there recognize this as part of a long line of items bearing this (informal?) company motto.
Radio City has been on the verge of going under for at least 40 years now.
Cablevision owns everything but the building itself now, I presume this will be the last change before it slips into oblivion.
I pruned the deadwood and it showed its appreciation by blooming.
I bought this rose bush for my mother as a child. It now languishes on the side of my father’s house. As do I.
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