Cafe Bucky

You know you’ve been looking at the screen for too long when … you try to clean it, and the “dirt” turns out to be a stray semicolon in an Emacs window…

[ramblings from JetBlue flight 100...]

AirBornAgain (something of an update, but by no means one of those Christmas Letters) near-February 2005, somewhere over the Midwest… soundtrack of Frank Black. I’m being nomadic again. In some ways, I feel as blurred as the fellow off to the left, stepping back into Times Square. It’s nice to get out of California for a while – off to NYC for a couple of weeks, There is a continuing sense of “where the heck do I really live?!”, but I’m gettin’ used to it. On the cyberspace level, it’s not important. On the level of meat, I’m probably picky about where I’m going to spend my time. Life’s too short to waste in some generic tract sameness. Actually, some of my motivation to get my butt back to NYC is that I was jealous of my family, because they got to go through the Blizzard of ’05. I’ve got to get to NYC and throw some snowballs before they all melt. I’ve had my fill of burritos, so now it’s time for H&H Bagels. And a nice Pastrami Sandwich. Umm, pa-stra-mi. D’oh!

And I really miss my family (camped out in NYC). My daughter is an up and coming writer. Don’t mark my words,
but watch for hers. My wife is becoming an honest-to-goodness NYC Photographer. They’ll be a creative inspiration (like I really
need another one, but on another hand, their pursuits take a different form, which is great, because it will
assure I don’t get into some thinking-rut).

And it’s a working trip. I declare my UWS apartment to be Metaliq’s East Coast office.

I’m always wrestling with how to converge all of my tech-related interests. A typical day has me thinking about ActionScript, OOP & Design Patterns, Mac minis and how to use one for a PVR, how to network the East and West coast abodes that much better, how to hook up my digital piano to GarageBand, how to get that one crystal moment where everything just works. That’s a danger of wanting to do so many projects – always got to reel in and say “nope, focus!”. It’d be really cool to not have to sleep. Oh, and there’s Photography, Guitar, and Writing.

You ever get this: you want to stay up and work on all sorts of projects, but once you go to sleep you don’t
want to rush waking up? Yeah. Me too.

One thing that I am really looking forward to in the next couple of weeks is simply not having to commute. Although driving is one of the funnest, bestest things in the world, traffic just sucks the life out of me. What a frikken waste of time (and that, my friends, is putting it oh-so-mildly)

So it’s Snow Time! Wake up, brew a pot and code time! Time to get something done in those two hours
I could be driving. Cool things are afoot in the land of Flash, and I’ll have more to say on that, uh, when
I am cleared to talk.

I’m also looking forward to seeing the Christo “Gates” in Central Park. I’ll post some photos, if it’s not
so cold that my camera freezes up. Wouldn’t that be wierd if the cold temperature made for slower
shutter speeds, so that you couldn’t get a sharp photo in Winter? Just sayin’, man.

There’s no grand point to my ramblings, other than to say that Air trips are always a sort of “reset” for me.
It’s when I think about all of the little threads, and what to do with them. Add this, snip that. It’s
always different to write in the air. Perhaps it’s the “more uninterupted time” aspect.

(Soundtrack has now mutated into Thievery Corporation, which will forever remind me of
the Winter of ’04 in my subletted space on 68th street, with the freezing draft sneaking in around the window air conditioner,
but otherwise great vibe)

It’s time for cafes. Time for walks. Time for the subway. Time to spend 2 minutes putting on snow
clothes, and another one taking them off. It’s time for that bit of sensory stimulation that New York
is so good at. It’s also time to crank out a lot of work, and I’m all set.

I’m in California, wishing I was in NYC. I’m missing the Blizzard of ’05. Even my cats get to experience it. What the heck am I doing in Cali!

Over on the Gothamist, there’s a photo of the Fairway market on Broadway from this morning. Scads of experienced New Yorkers stocking up for the storm. Wow, a line out to the front door! My family and I go to this market all the time, so I can just imagine. (and everyone bundled up takes up 30% more space :-)

Stay warm, New Yorkers. This’ll make up for all of those unseasonably warm December days…

You don’t have to buy something for absolutely every single person. Spend time with people you want to be with instead. A shared meal is a better gift than something given without thought behind it.

Don’t plan every minute. Don’t get caught up in endless lists.

To hell with the mall rat race. What has the country come to when we race to see who can be at the front doors of commerce at 6 am, when what we should be doing is sleeping off all the turkey and pumpkin pie? Waking up early to max out a credit card is some sort of honorable achievement?

Don’t try to one-up someone else’s Christmas celebration. Consult the word “relax” in the dictionary. It’s supposed to be a holiday of some sort.

Eat. Decorate if you want to. Sip spiced cider by a real pine tree. Drink egg nog. Take walks together in some neighborhood that has an iota of character. Don’t get hung up on this gift or that token. Maybe even sing Christmas Carols.

Spend time with those who can see beyond all the wrappings and ribbons. Most people don’t really “need” anything for Christmas anyway. You’re just filling up each others closets with junk. Something small, simple, of quality always beats some obnoxious big cheap piece of drek.

A shared time with the right people who can relax and hang out is better than anything.

To the six legged invaders downstairs:

Your time of play in and around my kitchen sink is fast nearing the end. I have cleaned the counters thoroughly, but still you persist in all combinations of Group Arthropod Kama Sutra amongst my innocent dishes.

I have followed your trail to the outside, past the veranda and out towards the driveway. As I would expect from you invertebrates, the trail mysteriously vanishes. This is probably a good indication that you were sent from the Underworld, but it’s likelier still that you just have a “really cool tunnel system”. You’re not paying rent, and I would have thought that wiping out 100′s of your ants and uncles (ha ha, a little human humour) would have been hint enough for you to high tail it to somewhere more suitable (the Petaluma City Hall comes to mind).

But nooo, apparently news doesn’t travel well through all of those feelers crowding out your sense of self-preservation. Look, there isn’t food lying around, leave!

I am giving you until 8 am to clear out of my kitchen. Should you persist in mocking my efforts (holding 4 legs to your little noses while making obscene gyrations), you will feel the wrath of Raid! Do not think, my little roaming exoskeletal squatters, that I won’t cut loose with massive amounts of aerosol hell upon thee!

And stay out of my coffee grinder.

Sincerely,

The Master Of The House.

New York is the Tokyo of America.
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