On Friday, the Dodgers six-game winning streak came to an end. And it was a remarkable loss. As beat writer Ken Gurnick wrote:
this was a hideous loss of historic proportions, a 16–1 pulverization by the Phillies for the most lopsided home loss by a Dodgers team since 1947 in Brooklyn (19–2 to the Giants) and the largest margin of defeat since 2001 (20–1 to the Cubs).
An even more remarkable fact was that my brother and I were at the 2001 game versus the Cubs…in Chicago. It remains our only trip to Wrigley Field. As sons of an airline employee, we used to be able to fly for almost free. During the 2000 and 2001 baseball seasons, we flew to a few ballparks on overnight flights and often returning the same day on the last flight of the day to Southern California.
On May 4, 2001, we took a red-eye flight from LA to Chicago, arriving super early for a Dodgers-Cubs game. After breakfast and some brief window shopping, we headed to Wrigley field. Both teams, as I remember, were playing well and were probably in first place in their divisions. (They were.) But, as any serious baseball fan knows, your positions in the standings in early May means nothing because there’s still more than 130 games of baseball to play. We expected two overachieving teams to play a good game. We were wrong. Instead, we witnessed the Cubs pummell the Dodgers, 20–1. The Dodgers’ only run came off a Gary Sheffield double. Since we arrived at the ballpark early, we saw the Dodgers take batting practices, and he was hitting shots over the brick wall. No one else stood out in my mind, and that now seemed like a prescient analysis of what was to come.
Because we were dressed in Dodgers gear, we were heckled. Nonstop. A notable taunt was “Hey, Hollywood!” We deserved it. We were in enemy territory. Our team was getting killed. And because we had no sense of “springtime” in Chicago, we were underdressed, wearing shorts on a drizzly day that seemed much colder than the afternoon temperature of 57°.
My brother and I had a strict policy of not leaving a game early. However, we agreed that if the Cubs scored twenty runs, we’re outta here. But we came back only to see that the relief pitcher for the bottom of the eighth inning was utility infielder Chris Donnells, who threw three pitches to end an eighth-run eighth inning.
This morning, my brother reminded me of that game. It was bad. But it was also great and not only in how bad it was. Thanks, brother, for the reminder.
We signed up for the new OpenHouseNew York membership program, and on Friday, Sarah and I went to the welcome reception for the new members. The reception was held at the Eero Sarinen–designed TWA Flight Center. We had gone last year during the OHNY weekend and spent hours there looking at every nook and cranny of the place. I took dozens of photos of the place last October.
This year, I took a few more photos of places I might have missed the first time around.
Open House New York members mingle at the TWA Flight Center
Sipping a drink at the former Constellation Club.
The flight departure board lists is live!
OHNY members listen to remarks about the terminal.
OHNY members listen to remarks about the terminal.
The flight center today at JFK.
There are no straight lines at the flight center.
The clock is still live. Don’t miss your flight.
The site of the former Terminal 6, the National Airlines Sundrome terminal, designed by I.M. Pei.
Everyone’s favorite leather saddle company has launched their first non-leather saddle, the Cambium C–17, today. The saddle is made of rubber and cloth instead of cowhide leather, and it looks stunning.
Aside form a pre-launch splash page, where they solicited applications from people to receive a free tester, there were very few details about the product. Would it be available worldwide? Were any “Dealers of Excellence” selected to stock the saddle? How much is it going to cost? I was hoping to see it for sale somewhere in New York, and I even emailed a few places to ask if they were selling it at launch. Nope. The saddle is only available through their website for €145. Moreover, they are only manufacturing and shipping 300 of them by the end of July. After that, they’re shutting down production, taking their summer holiday, and resuming production in the fall, just in time for the end of cycling season in the Northern Hemisphere.
New York City Councilman Jimmy Van Bramer, who represents our section of Queens, asking to expand bike share to Western Queens:
There are already 36,000 members of bike share (citywide)…and I want these members to be able to come to Long Island City, Astoria and Sunnyside. Bike Share will help drive tourists to Western Queens…and would help bring people to the world class cultural institutions and restaurants in the area.
Over the the two weekends since New York City Bike Share launched, I have seen a handful of cyclists hurriedly riding the unmistakable blue-and-white bikes around Long Island City. Sarah got her fob in the mail yesterday, and I’m expecting mine any day now.
At the moment, there are no stations in Long Island City or neighboring Greenpoint. The closest ones are at Metropolitan and Wythe Avenues in Williamsburg (2.5 miles away) or at Second Avenue and E 60th Street in Manhattan (2.8 miles away). With a 30- or 45-minute check-out period, these intrepid riders either misunderstand the concept of bike share, are incurring significant late fees, or are only passing through the neighborhood to get a few weekend miles. Imagine if these riders could dock their and hang out in the neighborhood. Our western Queens hamlet would undoubtedly benefit.
Timehop scrubs through your social network accounts and offers a summary of what you did on this day one year ago, two years ago, three years ago, etc. It’s really not as creepy as you might think, since you posted your thoughts, activities, or whereabouts to Facebook, Twitter, or Foursquare in the first place. It often jogs my memory about trips I took or friends I hadn’t seen in a while. At the end of your feed, it includes a story of interest (though not always an interesting story) from the pages of USA Today of what happened on this day some years ago.
Evidently, four years ago today, televisions broadcasters went all digital:
Analog TV signals are shut down across the nation, as stations begin to broadcast only in digital. No more rabbit ears!
Although 2009 marked the end of analog television signals that had been transmitted since the 1940s, it did not spell the end of the rabbit ears. The only antennas that would be retired would be really old ones that were in circulation before 1960, when the VHF band was the only one around. The VHF band was for television stations broadcasting on channels 2–13, and the broadcasters have migrated off that band.
Although the television signals we use today are for the most part digital, most television stations today transmit on the UHF band. That band was designated for television channels 14–69 and was established in 1952. Television receivers and antennas have fully supported that band since 1960. Television antennas, both the rooftop and the rabbit ear kind, can still receive the new digital signal and pass it to your television set. The only problem is that if your television set is older than 2000, then it won’t know how to decode the digital signal.
Cable and satellite companies took this as an opportunity to sign up new customers thinking that those that received over-the-air television would be doomed. Instead, they were just duped.
Getting to Central Park for my Sunday softball games is pretty easy from Long Island City. I just ride over the Queensboro Bridge and head west on one of the streets in the lower 60s until I reach the Dairy and walk under the drive to the ballfields. The ride takes less than a half hour.
But Sunday was the annual National Puerto Rican Day parade. This one of the biggest parades of the summer, and its route along Fifth Avenue, from 44th to 79th streets, creates a “wall” that is difficult to cross. (The Gay Pride Parade is also big but its route along Fifth Avenue doesn’t block Central Park from the east side, as its north end is in the upper 50s.)
To get to the field, I have resorted to some creative solutions. Sometimes just take my bike on subway to the west side and ride the rest of the way. I once took the subway the entire way to Central Park, but that took much longer than one would expect. Subway service on a Sunday is sparse compared to weekday service. Another time, I took the East River Ferry to East 34th St and rode the rest of the way, but it cost $10 round trip for a five-minute ride.
This year, I took the Williamsburg Bridge, headed north along Avenue A, then west along Ninth Street, and up to Eighth Avenue. The trip was about six miles longer than my usual crosstown trip through the Upper East Side, and took just less than an hour. But I was warmed up for the game, ready to go.
A few weeks ago I posted images of six films I screened in my History of Cinema class at Queens College. As part of the final exam, students were to name five of the six films and provide the country of production and, if appropriate, the avant-garde movement.
Here are the answers:
Anemic Cinema
Celebrated artist Marcel Duchamp produced this film using a spirograph and other graphics that rotated on screen. Like much of Duchamp’s work, the film was a Dadaist work that utilized word play. In this still, the text translates to “If I give you a penny, will you give me a pair of scissors?” According to Katrina Martin, however, Duchamp is playing with colloquial French expressions and this actually translates to “If I give you a penny, I will give you a fuck.”
The Man with a Movie Camera
What can I say about this film? There are two items in the picture, a man and a movie camera, so I figured that would be easy. I was also looking for an image from this film that would show off two influential art movements in the Soviet Union: montage and Constructivism.
The challenge was to find a still that had montage within a single shot. Montage generally edits two shots together to create a specific and deliberate meaning, but I can’t show that in a single still. This one demonstrate the ability of montage to show “editing” within a single shot. Moreover, Constructivist integrated machinery into everyday objects, including the human form.
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
Not to spoil too much here, but in this still, Alan reacts to seeing Cesare in his room. He is terrified. In this shot, Cesare’s figure casts a shadow against the wall on the right side of the frame. The set of the room is highly stylized. It is not shown in classical Renaissance perspective, but instead has very sharp angles. This approach to composition was common in German Expressionism.
Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror
This is another German Expressionist film but from 1922 and directed by F.W. Murnau. The shadowy composition is again present here and is there to cast a sense of terror. Moreover, no one who has seen this film will forget Count Orlock’s appearance. It has to be one of the most chilling figures in cinema.
Un Chien Andalou
This is the seminal surrealist film, produced in France, by future film icon Luis Buñuel and celebrated painter/sculptor Salvador Dali. Early in the film is perhaps one of the most unforgettable images in cinema history: the cutting of a woman’s eye. The film rejects any narrative causality and instead follows the logic of dreams, as surrealists were wont to do.
Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans
Yes, it’s another film by a German filmmaker, F. W. Murnau. But this film, Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, was produced in the United States, not Germany, and was stylistically similar to Expressionism, although it was made well after the movement had its hey-day in Germany. This still is from the first third of the film. The man, played by George O’Brien, is about to kill his wife, played by Academy Award–winning Actress Janet Gaynor, and make it look like she accidentally drowned. You can see the compositional similarities between this image and that of the still from Caligari. Also, O’Brien’s posture is not unlike that of Orlock in Nosferatu.
Students in my class would have undoubtedly noticed that I absolutely love this film—it’s easily one of my all-time favorites—and some would remember it because I heard a few people crying at the end of the film.
As *Sunrise* is perhaps the last silent film made in Hollywood, it also might be the best.
Glass in the Bike Lane
Glass in the Bike Lane
On 44th Drive in Long Island City, there is almost always glass in the bike lane. It’s troubling. Not only does this cause flat tires for unsuspecting cyclists as they commute down this important neighborhood arterial, it also bodes poorly for cars parked on the street. Presumably, someone smashed their windows.
After riding regularly with a spring-training group over the last twelve weeks, I decided to push myself and ride the full 150-mile route of the Ride to Montauk. This is my fifth ride along this course since 2008, but up to now, I have ridden only 100 miles from Babylon to Montauk. To get to Babylon from New York City, we put our bikes on a truck and take the train to the starting point at the Long Island Railroad station in Babylon. This time, there was no train ride for me nor truck for my bike. I began pedaling at 5:15 AM from Vernon Boulevard and 48th Avenue in Long Island City.
I started in Long Island City because I had already checked in the day before in Manhattan. My bike and I received our tags so I was set to start riding. Sarah was riding the 73-mile course from Mastic-Shirley, and since she had checked in her bike the day before, she offered to check in my bag at Penn Station. I was free to ride from home, hooking up with the official route at Metropolitan Avenue and Lorimer Street in Williamsburg. In all, it saved me four miles of cycling, which I easily could have done, but more importantly, it spared me the frustration of taking the subway into Manhattan before dawn on a Saturday. Getting to sleep an extra thirty minutes before heading east was a nice bonus, too.
The biggest highlight of the ride was that I finished just ahead of my goal. I set out to finish the 150-mile ride in 12 hours, and I arrived at the finish at 4:45, eleven and a half hours after I left Long Island City. It was more than thirty minutes earlier than my finishing time in 2012, when I rode 108 miles and arrived in Montauk at 5:22 PM, with a 7:00 AM start from Babylon.
For most of the ride, I kept an 18-19 mile per hour pace. I tried to keep my heart rate low, around 150 bpm, to ensure I had enough energy for the entire ride. But most of the time I was well under that, around 145 bpm. For most of the ride, I had about a 15 mph average speed, but conserving energy at the beginning and pushing harder in the second half made it easier to increase my average speed as I pushed towards the end. When I finished, my Polar indicated that I had a 16.1 mph average speed over the entire 150 mile route. Last year, it took me just over two hours, about 02:05 to 02:15, to reach each rest stop. This year, I was getting to each one in about 01:30 or 01:45. The early season miles had paid off.
No long ride is complete without bonking, at least for a while. I bonked around mile 70, a few miles after stopping at the Blue Point Brewery in Patchogue for the third rest stop of the day (and for a sip of Rastafa Rye). At that point, I became concerned about whether I would be able to finish. So drawing from past experience, I began to eat all the food I had stashed in my jersey pockets. After gnawing on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a small Larabar, and a bag of mixed nuts I picked up at the first rest stop in Lynbrook (mile 22), I came back to life and recovered for the rest of the day.
