Happy Earth Day one and all. I commemorated the day by taking my gas-guzzling SUV down to the CVS, using noxious chemicals to clean my glass table and consuming hyper-processed (but Passover-safe) foods. I do plan to recycle some stuff as soon as the massive, B-52 bomber of a bumblebee outside decides to sniff around somebody else's balcony.
Everything seems to have turned green overnight, which is a happy thing after the Winter That Would Not Die. Passover is in full swing, and I'm doing my best to observe the holiday. However, I have already answered the diabolical call of a very persuasive cheeseburger, so the other 23 or so meals that I'll consume this holiday are pretty much just for show. But then, I never claimed to be anybody's role model in the area of hardcore Jewiness. Nonetheless, this holiday is a whole lot easier to observe this year, seeing as I'm no longer in Ireland or Wales, or some other such matzo-deprived country.
One of my guidebooks from last year described the Irish Museum of Jewish History as a place that chronicled the history of Jews in Ireland since the middle ages, when four Jews came ashore and were promptly sent back. I reckon it's a small museum.
Robyn
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
Friday, March 21, 2003
War
Like most everybody else on the planet, I was taken aback when the attack on Iraq began on Wednesday night. I left the television on all day yesterday like a good journalism student should and found little to interest me except for testing my meager Arabic skills on the live feeds from Al-Jazeera television. It was one of the few times that the local news was more enlightening on world affairs than the networks, because they were able to highlight the main points of what was going on rather than featuring a flummoxed reporter in the studio cutting back and forth to reporters in the field who can't tell us anything due to classified information or technical difficulties. It's a bit sad that you find yourself watching hours of television waiting for something to blow up. It's pretty morbid.
But today, when things were indeed blowing up with authority, I felt pretty awful watching it. I don't think it's a terrible thing that we're able to see war unfold live on television, because it does bring the immediacy of the events to you without any opportunity for sugar-coating them, but it's no fun. The danger is that people might get de-sensitized watching Baghdad get the snot bombed out of it. I was strangely grateful that the ABC News correspondent sounded like he was going to have a nervous breakdown any second. At least it keeps the perspective in place.
This hasn't been a wildly original update, and I'm sorry. I just felt like my humble update page would be lacking if I let the start of a major war go by without mention. Although I'm extremely unhappy that my government feels that we had to resort to these measures, I just hope that it will be over soon and with as few casualties on both sides as possible. And if past experience has taught me anything, it's good to stay informed, but not good to spend all day watching things blow up on TV. Not good for the nerves.
Robyn
But today, when things were indeed blowing up with authority, I felt pretty awful watching it. I don't think it's a terrible thing that we're able to see war unfold live on television, because it does bring the immediacy of the events to you without any opportunity for sugar-coating them, but it's no fun. The danger is that people might get de-sensitized watching Baghdad get the snot bombed out of it. I was strangely grateful that the ABC News correspondent sounded like he was going to have a nervous breakdown any second. At least it keeps the perspective in place.
This hasn't been a wildly original update, and I'm sorry. I just felt like my humble update page would be lacking if I let the start of a major war go by without mention. Although I'm extremely unhappy that my government feels that we had to resort to these measures, I just hope that it will be over soon and with as few casualties on both sides as possible. And if past experience has taught me anything, it's good to stay informed, but not good to spend all day watching things blow up on TV. Not good for the nerves.
Robyn
Monday, March 17, 2003
Civics in Action
Happy St. Patrick's Day to all. We're having suitably grey Irish weather in Washington this afternoon, I am suitably dressed in green, and I am suitably having leftovers and staying in tonight. Washington's major family-friendly festivities for the holiday were held yesterday, and had Jeffrey and I not expended our weekend energies at the previous day's protest I may have had an interest in attending. As it was, we did not.
I had participated in a walk-out against the war in New York, but I had never been to a protest of the scale of the one on Saturday before. I was pleased to see that there were a lot of different kinds of people there, as opposed to the stereotypical anarchist hoodlums that give such gatherings a bad name. There were old people and kids, families and college students, veterans and people who lost children in the previous Gulf War. There were a few speakers who got on my nerves a bit when they tried to push other issues in conjunction with the anti-war sentiment and a few people who seemed more delighted at the fact that they could put dirty words on big signs than they were about the cause, but a lot of people were protest novices like myself. I was pretty shy about it in the beginning and insisted that I wouldn't hold a sign and was nervous on the Metro. But by the end of it I was quite comfortable and held one of the three signs Jeffrey took to the event. I wasn't even all that fazed when we passed a smallish group of pro-Bush protesters. Everyone behaved very well and the police were very good about the whole thing. I think it would have been an arrest-free event if it weren't for a few anarchist yahoos who broke away from the larger group to trash the World Bank. There's always someone that has to cause trouble.
I may go to another one if it's organized even half as well. Next time, though, I should probably bring sunblock, as I'm none too thrilled with the burns inflicted on my suitably Irish skin tone at the moment.
Robyn
I had participated in a walk-out against the war in New York, but I had never been to a protest of the scale of the one on Saturday before. I was pleased to see that there were a lot of different kinds of people there, as opposed to the stereotypical anarchist hoodlums that give such gatherings a bad name. There were old people and kids, families and college students, veterans and people who lost children in the previous Gulf War. There were a few speakers who got on my nerves a bit when they tried to push other issues in conjunction with the anti-war sentiment and a few people who seemed more delighted at the fact that they could put dirty words on big signs than they were about the cause, but a lot of people were protest novices like myself. I was pretty shy about it in the beginning and insisted that I wouldn't hold a sign and was nervous on the Metro. But by the end of it I was quite comfortable and held one of the three signs Jeffrey took to the event. I wasn't even all that fazed when we passed a smallish group of pro-Bush protesters. Everyone behaved very well and the police were very good about the whole thing. I think it would have been an arrest-free event if it weren't for a few anarchist yahoos who broke away from the larger group to trash the World Bank. There's always someone that has to cause trouble.
I may go to another one if it's organized even half as well. Next time, though, I should probably bring sunblock, as I'm none too thrilled with the burns inflicted on my suitably Irish skin tone at the moment.
Robyn
Monday, March 10, 2003
Conan O'Brien: Breaker of Hearts
I returned to New York this weekend and I'm very glad I did. Truth be told, I was feeling sad about missing out on things that were going on up there in recent days (most likely due in part to my lack of employment and recent, traumatizing loss of cable television). I just needed a quick NY fix, and I am satiated.
Jeffrey and I had business to attend to there in the way of shopping in SoHo, eating falafel in the Village, and meeting friends for Afghan food on 26th Street. But our primary reason for being there was an event sponsored by the New York Times Arts and Leisure Weekend in which Conan O'Brien was to be the speaker.
There are very few such people in the world whom I would race up to New York to see at such an event without a moment's hesitation. Messrs. Conan and Bono are two of those, and seeing as Bono's appearance this weekend was canceled due to a medical emergency involving nasty back surgery (it's always something with those rock stars), I was more than happy to see Conan be interviewed about, well, being Conan, as it turns out. Which isn't as heinous as it sounds. Conan's a really smart, nice, geeky guy who wound up in an extraordinary position through a great deal of dumb luck, and had a seriously tough time holding on to that position ten years ago when he took over from David Letterman as the host of Late Night. But he's a very well-spoken and insightful person and it makes me glad to see that such a nice, intelligent guy is capable of his kind of success. I guess I'm a bit partial to bookish redheaded misfits with twisted senses of humor.
The only tragedy of the night occurred after the conversation when Conan stuck around to sign as many programs as possible before his handlers made him go home. He stopped at the girl right in front of me, leaving me standing in vain with a program thrust sadly in the air imploring the handlers not to go away. Jeffrey will attest that it was somewhat pathetic. But if that's the most rotten thing to happen to me all weekend, I suppose I'm in pretty good shape.
Robyn
Jeffrey and I had business to attend to there in the way of shopping in SoHo, eating falafel in the Village, and meeting friends for Afghan food on 26th Street. But our primary reason for being there was an event sponsored by the New York Times Arts and Leisure Weekend in which Conan O'Brien was to be the speaker.
There are very few such people in the world whom I would race up to New York to see at such an event without a moment's hesitation. Messrs. Conan and Bono are two of those, and seeing as Bono's appearance this weekend was canceled due to a medical emergency involving nasty back surgery (it's always something with those rock stars), I was more than happy to see Conan be interviewed about, well, being Conan, as it turns out. Which isn't as heinous as it sounds. Conan's a really smart, nice, geeky guy who wound up in an extraordinary position through a great deal of dumb luck, and had a seriously tough time holding on to that position ten years ago when he took over from David Letterman as the host of Late Night. But he's a very well-spoken and insightful person and it makes me glad to see that such a nice, intelligent guy is capable of his kind of success. I guess I'm a bit partial to bookish redheaded misfits with twisted senses of humor.
The only tragedy of the night occurred after the conversation when Conan stuck around to sign as many programs as possible before his handlers made him go home. He stopped at the girl right in front of me, leaving me standing in vain with a program thrust sadly in the air imploring the handlers not to go away. Jeffrey will attest that it was somewhat pathetic. But if that's the most rotten thing to happen to me all weekend, I suppose I'm in pretty good shape.
Robyn
Tuesday, March 4, 2003
Aerobics
It was bound to happen eventually.
In New York I spent four months walking a couple of miles each day and navigating seven flights of stairs at NYU's Main Building.
I've spent the last two months sitting on my bum on the computer and on the sofa.
Consequently, a good number of my pants have been benched until a better, more active, day.
It's not that I'm unhappy with how I look. If it weren't for the pants and an unfortunate semi-annual trip to the scale, I probably would never have known. But the inactivity means more to me than a lack of comfy khakis. The problem is that I have the stamina of an 800-pound, seventy-year-old man. I've started doing aerobics in the morning to one of these "Over 40 and Fabulous!" programs on PBS. The damn thing kicks my ass on a routine basis. This cannot pass.
Washington summers are supposed to be nice and humid. Maybe that will be the solution. Until then I'll have to be content with occasional trips to the Metro.
Robyn
In New York I spent four months walking a couple of miles each day and navigating seven flights of stairs at NYU's Main Building.
I've spent the last two months sitting on my bum on the computer and on the sofa.
Consequently, a good number of my pants have been benched until a better, more active, day.
It's not that I'm unhappy with how I look. If it weren't for the pants and an unfortunate semi-annual trip to the scale, I probably would never have known. But the inactivity means more to me than a lack of comfy khakis. The problem is that I have the stamina of an 800-pound, seventy-year-old man. I've started doing aerobics in the morning to one of these "Over 40 and Fabulous!" programs on PBS. The damn thing kicks my ass on a routine basis. This cannot pass.
Washington summers are supposed to be nice and humid. Maybe that will be the solution. Until then I'll have to be content with occasional trips to the Metro.
Robyn
Thursday, February 27, 2003
WTC Plans
It looks as though they've decided on the design for what is to be built at Ground Zero. Of the two that were being considered, I suppose I like the chosen one better.
The trouble is that anything they put there is going to look wrong to me, just as people hated the Towers when they first went up. But I never knew New York to look otherwise. It looks strange now, and it will look strange with the new tower. It will never look right. It's very odd to me that my children will have a very different picture of New York than I have, because I can't picture it any other way.
I am glad they didn't go with those two skeletal towers. They just looked like bombed-out buildings to me.
In happier news, "Angel of Harlem" is playing on Virgin Radio. Joy.
But then, people hated the Eiffel Tower when that went up. Maybe I'll warm up to it.
Robyn
The trouble is that anything they put there is going to look wrong to me, just as people hated the Towers when they first went up. But I never knew New York to look otherwise. It looks strange now, and it will look strange with the new tower. It will never look right. It's very odd to me that my children will have a very different picture of New York than I have, because I can't picture it any other way.
I am glad they didn't go with those two skeletal towers. They just looked like bombed-out buildings to me.
In happier news, "Angel of Harlem" is playing on Virgin Radio. Joy.
But then, people hated the Eiffel Tower when that went up. Maybe I'll warm up to it.
Robyn
Thursday, February 20, 2003
All De Little Critters
I'm sure they have rules against this kind if thing, but I placed some bread out on the balcony during the blizzard and am currently delighted by the birds that have discovered it.
It took a while for them to find it. I don't think they're used to handouts around these parts. Not because people don't care, but because if people were to put bird feeders on their balconies, we'd all be awash in caca. But this one time can't hurt.
Along the same lines, I've found some fine furry programming that helps me while away the job-searching hours. Animal Planet has surpassed VH1 as my favorite time-wasting channel (which speaks volumes about my worldliness and sophistication. Meh). I'm quite taken with Emergency Vets (ER...for animals!) and Animal Precinct (COPS...for animals!). I like That's My Baby as well, but were I to watch it regularly it would amount to two hours a day of watching farm animals and Sea World denizens give birth, and there's something inherently wrong with that.
My favorite show has to be a program that looks as if it wandered away from Brooklyn cable access and found its way into syndication on Fox. It airs Sunday mornings and is called Pet Shop, and features this doofus giving pet advice while surrounded by MORE ANIMALS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT. There's giant bunnies mingling with prairie dogs and parrots and puppies and cats and hamsters and two extremely wound-up chinchillas and ferrets and crows, all sitting on a space the size of an office desk. I don't know what the hell he's talking about half the time. That's not the point. If you do find yourself awake on a Sunday morning, give it a look. You won't be sorry.
Robyn
It took a while for them to find it. I don't think they're used to handouts around these parts. Not because people don't care, but because if people were to put bird feeders on their balconies, we'd all be awash in caca. But this one time can't hurt.
Along the same lines, I've found some fine furry programming that helps me while away the job-searching hours. Animal Planet has surpassed VH1 as my favorite time-wasting channel (which speaks volumes about my worldliness and sophistication. Meh). I'm quite taken with Emergency Vets (ER...for animals!) and Animal Precinct (COPS...for animals!). I like That's My Baby as well, but were I to watch it regularly it would amount to two hours a day of watching farm animals and Sea World denizens give birth, and there's something inherently wrong with that.
My favorite show has to be a program that looks as if it wandered away from Brooklyn cable access and found its way into syndication on Fox. It airs Sunday mornings and is called Pet Shop, and features this doofus giving pet advice while surrounded by MORE ANIMALS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT. There's giant bunnies mingling with prairie dogs and parrots and puppies and cats and hamsters and two extremely wound-up chinchillas and ferrets and crows, all sitting on a space the size of an office desk. I don't know what the hell he's talking about half the time. That's not the point. If you do find yourself awake on a Sunday morning, give it a look. You won't be sorry.
Robyn
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