I learned 3 amazing new facts while watching Pee-Wee's Christmas Special (1988!) with Biana the other night.
1. Mrs. Renee... and the claymation dinosaur family are Jewish.
Chag Sameach.
2. Magic Johnson and Magic Screen (the character that Pee-Wee jumps into when he plays connect the dots) are cousins.
Also, according to Wikipedia, Magic Screen is a girl.
3. Somewhere is a prop closet in Hollywood is the most amazing snowsuit I've ever seen. I want!
I went hunting for the 1586 in Brooklyn this morning after discovering the In Numerical Order group on Flickr. I found it a block away from my apartment.
The 1585 was a white stencil spray painted on a red background. The 1584 was part of a phone number on a poster. And, the 1583 was a few billiard balls lined up in a row.
We had a recurring segment on Dailysonic (my old podcast) called 30-Second Life Stories. I used to walk around NYC with a mic in hand, asking total strangers to tell me their stories.
I contributed a little idea to The Photojojo Book and got a copy in the mail last week. The book comes out today. It's great. Everyone who flips through it agrees. Congrats to Amit for putting together an awesome book about doing photography.
Saturday night I headed to Brooklyn Fireproof East with Biana. We had a quiet glass of wine while moped gangs from all over the United States drank PBR and lit urinals on fire. The best bits of 1990s era hiphop played in the background. This webpage has something to do with what we witnessed, but I think I need to have a moped to truly understand.
On Sunday we headed to Govorner's Island and bicycled around with Biana's friend Jon. The real action was in the water. Swimmers from around the world were competing in a 10 kilometer swim around the island. After the race, the swimmers got the river scum hosed off of their bodies. There was a guy with a kite there taking aerial photographs. Check his photos out.
Last week, Aaron and I went to The Putting Lot, a miniature golf course in a vacant lot in Bushwick, Brooklyn. A local TV crew happened to be there recording a story. They aired my sound byte today. And, if you listen closely, you can also hear Aaron laughing at my golf swing.
Good book. The author suggests that people need to shift from city-state mode to tribal mode. If we don't shift, we'll smother each other & irreparably fuck up our beautiful mothership. One way to bring about the shift is by telling ourselves new stories.
I like this story (pulled from one of the book's last chapters):
Among your own roots are thousands of generations of parents who survived sustainably, well enough to eventually give birth to you. You carry within you DNA descended from those very people.
Biana & I are leaving on August 6th to hike The Cohos Trail (162 miles). We will return around August 23rd. You can follow our progress on our Cohos Hike blog.
Last night, I had the type of dream that no one wants to return to, so I stayed awake. I took the dog for a long walk to clear the cobwebs & had a cool quiet summer morning.
By the I got back to my apartment I decided that I'm done with sagging pants. Done...
I'm weird with pants. As far back as I can remember, I've only been able to really enjoy one or two pair at a time. When I've got a pair of pants that I like, I stick with 'em. Once they're broken in, they're practically my skin.
I don't part ways with pants until I absolutely have to. I wear them until they look like they've been assaulted by fire breathing hippopotamuses & run over by steam engine scale lawnmowers (with rusty diamond tipped blades).
I've noticed that my current pants have been sagging lower and lower. When they sag, its not because I think it looks cool.
