Adam Uhrynowski : : Blog

Best Songs of the Year

2011-12-31T14:00:00.000-05:00

Norwalk, CT

It's been a while since I've posted a music blog. And this year has been an exceptionally great year for music. And so I've picked out my favorite 5 songs that came out this year and the reasons why.

I'll Be Waiting, Adele - Holy crap this song is amazing. It's more upbeat than the other stuff off her fantastic 21 album, and it also feels like a timeless song. It's as if this song should have already existed. I'm surprised it hasn't been released as a single, but perhaps the greatness needs to be shared quietly among the masses.
Sunrise, Childish Gambino - The beat of this song is perfect accompaniment for a run, but stopping and listening to Donald Glover's lyrics will not only paint a vivid picture, but it'll also have you laughing your sneakers off. Any song with the lyric, "I've seen more than John Mayer's penis hole" easily enters classic territory for me.
Violin, Amos Lee - I was lucky enough to see this song live in a very small club in New York. The song is epic, but in the most intimate way possible. It worked perfectly in that small venue, but would easily be perfect while driving on a late summer afternoon with the windows down.
You and Me (But Mostly Me), The Book of Mormon Original Cast - It's not easy to create a listen-able wink and nod to Wicked's Defying Gravity while being funny, pushing the narrative of the play further, and making a catchy song. But they did it. And it'll have you singing in the shower.
Your Love Is (Love Song with Metaphor), Paul and Storm - True this song didn't come out this year, but I came across this in my rapidly-expanding appreciation of Paul and Storm. It's pure genius in that it combines innocence and love with pure evil.

Good Christmas/Bad Christmas

2011-12-21T14:47:00.002-05:00

Norwalk, CT

I started this on my Twitter feed last year, basically juxtaposing a good Christmas and a bad Christmas. As I have no other messages for this holiday season, I figured I'd give you the whole collection. Happy holidays!

Good Christmas: Sitting on Santa's lap. Bad Christmas: Shitting on Santa's lap.
Good Christmas: A morning spent opening presents. Bad Christmas: A morning spent opening cold sores.
Good Christmas: Singing carols to your neighbors. Bad Christmas: Singing carols to your prison guards.
Good Christmas: Roasting chestnuts. Bad Christmas: Roasting your nuts.
Good Christmas: Leaving cookies out for Santa. Bad Christmas: Leaving cookies out for Satan.
Good Christmas: Making a house out of gingerbread. Bad Christmas: Making a house out of sweetbread.
Good Christmas: Waiting for Santa to come down the chimney. Bad Christmas: Waiting for Santa to cum down the chimney.
Good Christmas: Hanging balls on the tree. Bad Christmas: Hanging infidels on the tree.
Good Christmas: Spending time with family. Bad Christmas: Spending time with the Manson family.
Good Christmas: Enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. Bad Christmas: Enjoying the warmth of Chlamydia.
Good Christmas: Looking at houses covered in Christmas lights. Bad Christmas: Looking at houses covered in landslides.
Good Christmas: Reciting the nativity. Bad Christmas: Inciting the natives.

Asshole of the Year

2011-12-15T14:24:00.000-05:00

New York, NY

This year, instead of going back through all the great things that have happened to me in 2011 (which was a lot), and talking about how much I love my family and friends, I'm taking a different course. I'm handing out my first-ever Asshole of the Year award.
Granted, there are many people who should receive this award. Politicians, religious nut jobs, that Barista at Starbucks who fucked up the milk to coffee ratio in my caramel macchiato last week. But one guy takes the cake and I don't even know his name.

A few months ago, I was flying from San Jose to Houston when a loud, boisterous Texan got on and placed his out-of-place in Silicon Valley cowboy hat in the overhead bin. A few minutes after, a solider in camouflage attempted to put his stuffed bag into the same overhead bin without realizing the other man's hat rested comfortably inside. His bag was big, but with some finagling, he could have made it fit. The Texan began to flip out.

"What are you some kind of damn idiot?" he asked with a twang that reeked of regional cultural insensitivity. The soldier said nothing, took his bag out and looked for another bin. The Texan continued, "You goddamned fool!" Reaching into the bin, he grabbed his hat, "Oh man, look what you did. You bent my damn hat!" The solider apologized and let it go. The Texan was steaming, "You are a fucking idiot man. I swear to god." Still, the soldier let it go.

At this point, I was pissed. Now I wouldn't say anything because I'm a pussy who hates confrontation, plus I was several pages into Sky Mall at that point, but the nerve of this asshole yelling at a soldier for mistakenly touching his cowboy hat was enough to make me mutter to my seat mate, "Well, this guy is a fucking asshole."

And so, whoever that Texan with the crumpled hat is, you sir are my asshole of the year. I hope your horse runs through a bramble of roses, gets thorns stuck in its under carriage and mistakenly thinks you're a mare - finally butt raping you with a thorny horse penis.

You'd deserve it.

Do Not Stop

2011-12-07T09:43:00.001-05:00

Norwalk, CT

So This Just Happened...

2011-09-26T13:43:00.002-04:00

Santa Barbara, CA

The ride up from Laguna Niguel was hazy. Lindsey had a headache and was currently asleep in our rented minivan, mouth wide open, and snoring. Watching the clouds pour over the coastal mountains, I knew this wouldn't work. It was grey. It was cold. It wasn't perfect.

Then we made it to Santa Barbara and the clouds disappeared. It being Lindsey's birthday, I surprised her with three nights at the Four Seasons. We were both surprised when they upgraded us to a suite the size of a small European country (complete with gas fireplace and patio.) But everything was suddenly going as planned and it was time to man-up and get this started.

So we made our way to Butterfly Beach in front of our hotel and watched as the sun sank below the Pacific. (6:47pm ... a time indelibly marked into my brain as the time the sun sets in Santa Barbara on September 25th). Finally, I told Lindsey I had another birthday present for her, but this one was more dangerous.

The next part is a blur. I remember getting down on one knee. I remember unexpectedly tearing up. And I remember her saying yes ... which was probably most important.

And so, somewhere between 6:30 and 6:47 PST on Butterfly Beach outside Santa Barbara, Lindsey and I got engaged. And we have the photos to prove it...

And the surprise champagne and chocolate covered strawberries from Heidi were pretty amazing as well.

Ants in My Pants

2011-09-14T12:50:00.000-04:00

Norwalk, CT

It should be stated that I'm not a good dancer. However, when I get a little tipsy, I like to think I'm a good dancer. And normally, my dancing skills only come out when I'm not dancing with my girlfriend. (See: dancing with my best friend's wife here.) Such was the case this past July as I made a fool out of myself on the dance floor at a wedding (again) ... dancing this time with my girlfriend's best friend.

Nothing but trouble.

The Mill River 2011

2011-09-13T09:01:00.002-04:00

Norwalk, CT

Much like we did five years ago, Tim, Tom and I decided to head down the Mill River after a week of heavy rains. This time, we ditched the kayaks and replaced them with a white water raft ... with a slow leak.

Upper West Side Story

2011-08-22T10:00:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

And now I know, "Spanish Harlem" are not just pretty words to say.I thought I knew, but now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City.

-Elton John, "Mona Lisas & Mad Hatters"

My neck was stretched, head resting on the cushion of the backseat of my parent's station wagon. From there, I could see the glow of thousands of rectangles - each one encompassing someone's life. Driving up 3rd Avenue and over to the FDR, we'd make our way toward Connecticut as the dark of night fell over the city.

Each time we left, all I'd want to do is return. There was so much excitement, so much passion, so much ... more in New York City. And it was in those early 1980's trips into the city that my life gained a singular purpose: I would one day live in this great town.

While my classmates drew pictures of dragons and army men, my pages were filled with pencil drawings of buildings; their maze of grey structures bending toward the horizon.

---

By the time I made it to New York, and my new adventure began they were still hauling truckloads of lower Manhattan to Fresh Kills. It was a city looking to regain its footing. It needed direction. It needed to breathe. And with that, we made an excellent pair.

It took me about a year before I considered it "home" and returning from trips in the country, I'd always be able to exhale once I rounded a corner and saw the skyscrapers off in the distance. I've never felt so connected to anywhere I've lived. The pace, the movement, the rumble of New York just seemed to line up perfectly with what I needed out of a town.

It's the guy pushing an AM New York in my face as I walk to the subway. It's knowing my laundry man - whose name I've never bothered to learn, will have already pulled my name up on the computer and hauled my bag of neatly folded clothes onto the counter by the time I make it down the steps. It's Central Park, it's Riverside. It's the sunset over the Hudson on Pier I. It's futile attempts to catch a cab on 8th Avenue after a night at the bars. It's early morning bike rides down the Hudson, or brushing past picture snapping tourists in Columbus Circle. It's the museums and the galleries, the stores in the West Village and the odor of Chinatown. It's being in the center of the universe and being able to reach out and touch it.

I fell deeply in love three times in this city - a town perfectly designed to generate love. And to think of the countless friends this city has given me requires a herculean effort. But really, it's that this city has given me so much, that in a small way I feel as if I'll always be a part of it and it of me.

I've never been able to accurately explain why I love this city to those who've never lived here. Most look at it like an act of self-flagellation. And really, while you can visit or work in New York, you'll never be able to understand New York without living here. Though similarly, I'd never be able to understand why anyone would want to sit on the back of a tractor

This isn't goodbye, this is just the end of part one. And somewhere out there among everything else, you can find me bending toward the horizon.

Baby

2011-08-12T15:12:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

Baby, it's alright
Stop your crying, now

Nothing is here to stay
Everything has to begin and end
'Cause a ship in a bottle won't sail
All we can do is dream that the wind will blow us across the water
A ship in a bottle set sail

Baby, it's alright
Stop your crying, now

There was a weakling man
Who dreamed he was strong as a hurricane
A ship in a bottle set sail
He took a deep breath and blew across the world
He watched everything crumble
Woke up a weakling again

Some might tell you there's no hope in hand
Just because they feel hopeless
But you don't have to be a thing like that
You be a ship in a bottle set sail

Baby, it's alright
Stop your crying, now
It's alright
So stop your crying, now
Be a ship in a bottle set sail

3 Chords Tackles the Homeless Problem

2011-08-11T13:54:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

Johnny and I spent some time in Herald Square discussing the problem with the homeless problem in New York City. We also dealt with a screaming baby - whose pained cries were bested only by the deeply angered and frustrated expressions on my face following each rasping yelp.

Insta-Adam

2011-07-17T21:04:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

More and more friends, co-workers, internet acquaintances, and family members are joining Instagram. It's rather quite addicting, especially with the number of add-on applications available. (Statigram and Instagallery just to name a few) Here are a few of my latest photos, and to follow me, head here: Instagrid.

American Caustic

2011-06-28T16:53:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

2nd Ammendment

2011-06-20T20:21:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

I hate guns. Hate them. I hate how they can take lives in an instant, and how they lead to an impotent escalation in violence when words can be so much more powerful. But holy fuck are they fun to shoot. I've always thought that there's one thing that everyone does well, whether it's row a boat or calculate Pi to the 300th decimal place. It turns out I'm really good at shooting guns. My aim is almost uncanny, something I attribute to both my video game experience and my low-dosage anti-anxiety pills. But damn... it couldn't be giving hugs or saving puppies... my one thing had to be something destructive. This of course begs the question: how can I parlay this into financial gain.

The Summer Reading List

2011-05-31T06:57:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

I haven't finished reading a book since last September. As soon as I closed The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, and put an end to the "Millenium" trilogy, I couldn't wait to dive back into new stories of intrigue, romance, and adventure.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, I have novels piling up on my shelves collecting dusts, their stories remaining unfulfilled until I find the time to crack them open. And when you write for a living, the last thing you want to do is read more words when you get home. But I plan on opening a few books this summer, and instead of recommend books YOU should read, I'll give you a list of those I plan on diving into ... as long as I don't get sidetracked by videogames and television.

Under the Poppy
Bootleggers, Lobstermen, and Lumberjacks
Mornings on Horseback
Drood
Life

Memorial Day Weekend

2011-05-27T12:10:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

If all goes according to plan, by this time tonight I will have submitted a lengthy (and quite spectacular I might add) RFP for a potential client, packed, driven to Connecticut, hopped on a boat, had a stiff drink, and relaxed under the stars accompanied by the gentle tumble of Long Island Sound. But things never go to plan.

The kick-off to summer is something to celebrate. Always. One of my favorites was the holiday the Ferguson cousins spent out on Centre Island a few years ago. It was memorable. It was dangerous. It was over-the-top. If this coming weekend can just be relaxing - I'll consider it a win.

Swamped

2011-05-26T10:55:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

I'm swamped at work, and I'm afraid I won't be able to properly fulfill my promise of putting new content on this blog each weekday this month. (Looks into his folders to see what he can pull out) Ah! Without fail, spring is the time I remind you to sign up and participate in Kayak for a Cause. Now in its 11th year (holy crap... that's insane), there have been some significant changes that'll improve the experience for everyone involved. Think of it as a rebirth, or a redux, or a reinvention. Here's a promo I put together for it.

New Instagrams

2011-05-25T09:51:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

I've got more Instagrams to share with you!

To see more, check out my "instagrid" here.

The Faux Article

2011-05-24T10:04:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

I was tasked with writing a few paragraphs of a fake magazine article for a client pitch, one that involved wine tasting in Australia (though I've never been) with a woman named Sarah Leighton (who doesn't exist). We decided to not use the article, and so I share it here with you...

In Search of Shiraz

Discovering the undiscovered wineries and vineyards of Australia’s Hunter Valley.

Sarah Leighton stares longingly at the glass as I take a small sip of the robust red wine contained therein. The moment I swallow, she’s bursting to ask what I think of it. She is a sanguine artist hoping for a positive review of her latest shiraz-based creation that also happens to be the latest blend from her intimate and utterly tranquil winery. The Leighton Winery, sitting on a dozen acres of grape vines in Australia’s Hunter Valley, is one of a new crop of “boutique” vintners who are changing the game in Australia’s largest wine-producing region. With a map, some advice from locals, and a non-drinking driver, I was determined to find the best and smallest wine producers in the region.

The Leighton Winery is exactly what you’d expect from a small vineyard. It sits at the end of an unmarked and dusty road lined with grape orchards, it’s quiet, and when I pulled up I was greeted by Sarah’s yellow lab, Bruin. Sarah is eager to give tours, but even more eager to get a reaction to her wine from her visitors. After a brief tour of her vines, I was lead to a small picnic table and an empty wine glass.

The enthusiasm with which Sarah speaks about her wine makes you want to enjoy it even if it tastes like vinegar. (It doesn’t) And that she so clearly enjoys what she does makes you appreciate the hands-on approach smaller wineries can give their product. The Leighton Winery ships roughly 10,000 cases per year – a small number when compared with the bigger and more recognizable names down the road. But Sarah insists her small size it what makes her wine that much better. And after trying six glasses, and going back for one more, as well as throwing an increasingly-slobber coated tennis ball for Bruin, I’m beginning to agree with her.

The Rapture Cometh (and Goeth)

2011-05-23T08:45:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

As was (now falsely) predicted, the Rapture was supposed to come on Saturday. It didn't. Johnny and I decided to voice our opinions on the matter... and give a short follow up.

And here's footage of us going through the final few supposed minutes of Earth.

I Feel Fine

2011-05-20T09:57:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

"This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a wimper."

-T.S. Eliott, The Hollow Men

If all goes according to plan, this may be the last entry I'll ever post to this blog. You see, the world is going to end tomorrow - at least if you believe the folks at Family Radio, a Christian-based organization using a formula derived from passages in the Bible. The problem with the world ending tomorrow is that I most-likely won't be included in "the rapture" - when those who are "saved" float up toward Heaven and the rest of the world burns in eternal hellfire. Unfortunately for me, I support gay rights, I've had sex before marriage, I only attended church for the free wafers, and I believe in ~~the theory of~~ evolution.

And I say bring it on.

Heaven may be a place where all is well and good, but it'll be full of the most boring and misguided people (formerly) on the planet. I'd much rather spend eternity hanging with people who are able to form opinions outside of the sludge they're being shoveled to keep them in line. I want to hang out with people who have the good sense NOT to sell all their possessions and flush their retirement savings by branding their cars with messages of the upcoming apocalypse.

And if for some reason the world doesn't end tomorrow night, I will actively seek out these zealots, listen to their "excuses" and point and laugh while I hand out pamphlets in support of gay marriage.

Levels of Success

2011-05-19T10:14:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

When I was little, having a pool in your backyard meant that you were successful. Those gallons of crystal blue water meant you’d done what 99.99% of the population couldn’t do: become rich beyond your wildest dreams. This gradually changed into owning an exotic car like a Lamborghini Countach or a Ferrari Testarosa. And finally, in high school, being successful meant you’d actually touched a girl’s breast.

As I’ve moved through life, however, my ideas of what it means to be successful have changed radically. No longer was it what you had, but how you obtained it. And after years of reflection on the subject, I can now tell you the singular example of being purely successful: having a private bathroom in your office.

If you can shit without Greg from marketing services over-hearing how last night’s trip to Burrito Barn went, you’ve made it my friend. Congratulations.

In the Shadows of Weddings

2011-05-18T10:01:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

This is the last 3 Chords for a while ... at least until we shoot a few more. We shot the last three back to back, and in this one we discuss how/why/when I have to attend so many weddings (again) this summer. After a proper shake down, Johnny and I get back to our stride with this episode. Also, we introduce Raj into the mix.

Links

2011-05-17T09:43:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

On this rainy day, I haven't got much for the blog. (Now realizing why I stopped writing so frequently all those years ago) To make up for my lack of creativity, here are some cool links to check out.

Ovi Maps - It's like Google Earth... but better.
Kayak for a Cause - Now in its 11th year. Have you registered yet?
TrustCloud - Yep, it's still around.
Desonesto - Yep, it's still around too.
My YouTube Channel - Hasn't been recently updated, but still worth a look.

I promise to have more "content" tomorrow.

The Uhrynowboes

2011-05-16T09:05:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

It's been said I have a passing resemblance to the actor Adam Scott. And while I strain to see it (my mouth is bigger), I will admit we look more like each other than Eric and I do. Those who have been within earshot of Lindsey when she's "singing" will inform you of her "pitchy-ness." (This is a nice way of saying her singing sounds like she's jerking off a yak.) I came across this clip from the movie Step Brothers in which Adam Scott scolds his wife for singing off key, a conversation I've had almost verbatim - save for the singing lessons - with Lindsey not two weeks ago.

If we were to ever get married, this is pretty much what our life would be in about ten years, Lindsey with her far away "what have I done with my life" look along with the vaguely homosexual son. This is why I'm not getting married ... and getting Lindsey singing lessons.

Another New 3 Chords & the Truth

2011-05-13T13:01:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

We shot a few episodes of 3 Chords & the Truth back-to-back, which means we can crank them out quicker. This time, we talk about releasing the Bin Laden photos, farmers, What's Happening Now, and Andy Warhol.

Mocktails

2011-05-12T12:42:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

This is how you rock a non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri.

On the Offensive

2011-05-11T09:58:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

-A Midsummer Night's Dream

Something I worked on was called "misogynistic" and "homophobic" which I find incredibly funny. Not that any of those things are humorous, but this campaign and, by extension, me being lumped in with those words is amazing and laughable in how off-target they are. (Pay no attention to the scantily clad woman wearing patriotic undies further down this blog). While I won't go into details, I will say that it involved a campaign I worked on and some feminist groups have taken strong issue with it. What they've failed to see is that, at it's core, the campaign is mocking pathetic men. (Something advertisers do too often - I may add) And instead of realizing it for what it is, they've assigned their agenda of being offended without actually looking at what the campaign is saying.

And this is truly the problem.

Everyone has things they believe in, but as I've stated time and again on this blog: the world needs to chill out. Seriously.

Jokes are just jokes, and more often than not they expose ignorance through humor. At the same time, they help open up dialogs and increase awareness through easy-to-understand means. Now, this philosophy doesn't work with jokes filled with hate, but it does work with 99% of the jokes out there. But that people would take a humorist to task over something they've said or written really just shows how closed-minded they are.

And so I won't apologize for what I've written. I found it funny. My girlfriend found it funny. Most people I know found it funny... many of whom were females, gay, or both. Laugh a little bit. Laugh at yourself, it'll help you realize how amazing life is.

"Real" Articles

2011-05-10T09:46:00.001-04:00

South Norwalk, CT

My company has asked me to write articles for their online magazine Post Advertising. None of the articles contain fart jokes or random comments about my genitalia, but if you're into advertising and marketing, they may be worth a read. (You can also grab our iPhone/iPad app here.)

There are more coming shortly. Enjoy!

The Return of 3 Chords & the Truth

2011-05-09T06:59:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

After a year and a half, Johnny and I return with our 3 Chords & the Truth webcast.

Lesser Known Soundtracks

2011-05-06T11:02:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

Everyone knows the musical cues from StarWars, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Batman, but there are a ton of excellent soundtracks to movies that aren't as well known. Here is a small list of great soundtracks from films, television shows, and video games you may have missed over the years.

Toy Soldiers - Perhaps it stems from my old trumpet playing days, but the theme that begins at 2:35 on the linked file is one of the best musical cues out there.
The Critic - Hans Zimmer crafted this with a clear nod to Gershwin.
Uncharted - "Nate's Theme" has all the drama, action, and romance a good adventure needs.
Band of Brothers - My love of this miniseries and my fascination with WWII has long been documented. The late Michael Kamen's score encapsulates this period of time and the war so well, it becomes an eloquent testament to those who served in the war.
Crysis 2 - The beauty of this game's visuals is matched only by the spooky and driving score from Hans Zimmer.
The Fall - Yes, the song is actually the second movement from Beethoven's Symphony No. 7, but it's my favorite classical piece and frames the opening scenes of the movie perfectly.

Wedding Season

2011-05-05T09:36:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

Wedding season technically began the second weekend in January, but it officially kicks off this weekend. This year's nuptials will take us from New York City to Michigan to Southern California with the gift rule being: the farther I have to travel, the smaller the wedding present. (Sorry California folks, you're getting a $10 gift certificate to the Sizzler.)

I feel like I've played my cards wrong. I assumed if I waited long enough to get married, my friends would have larger incomes thus guaranteeing me better wedding gifts. But as these friends are now popping out children faster than coins out of a slot machine, I fear their funds may be inappropriately diverted to aid in child rearing.

In other words: bring on the open bars because I'm getting my money's worth.

Party to the People

2011-05-04T09:05:00.006-04:00

New York, NY

It's been more than two days since the US military found and killed Bin Laden. Upon hearing the news, I was enthusiastic and felt like we were closing a chapter of American history. This turned to a feeling of sadness as I never thought I was someone to revel in the death of anything, let alone another human being. But ultimately, I feel like there is much to celebrate, and yet there's a sense in this country that we aren't allowed to. That it's disrespectful. That showing your happiness is considered to be in poor taste.

But after 10 years of hunting down this madman, 10 years of wondering when the next bomb is going to drop, 10 years of remembering who we lost on 9/11, can't we have a few moments to cheer? I understand his death doesn't mean the end of Al Qaeda, but regardless, his death has the promise of many new beginnings and many questions answered.

I'm not talking about celebrating in the frat-boy douche bag any excuse to get drunk style. I'm talking about feeling happy. Being happy. Showing others that you're happy.

I celebrated quietly: getting gooned on cough medicine and red wine while watching American Chopper. I'm pretty sure Osama wouldn't have wanted it that way - and that makes me happy.

Pilot Season

2011-05-03T11:02:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

It was how she said it that got me, "Adam, we love it. I can't wait to talk to you about this in a few days. Until then, celebrate. You deserve it." She followed up with joyous laughter and a hug. And I thought... yeah, I nailed it. This television show is as good as on the air.

But then I learned that network executives (including the one above who practically gave me a reach around after the shooting of our pilot had ended) like to blow gallons of smoke up people's asses. The pilot I'd written for a major cable network (that won't be named here, but let's just say they mostly produce comedy shows) was a tremendous amount of fun to work on. It was the type of job where I never looked at my watch and grew disappointed when I realized I needed to go home for the day.

Sure there were bumps in the road. I realized early on that explaining "why" something is funny, no matter how great the joke, is a futile exercise. There's also the whole "working for almost nothing" thing that makes your landlord write angry letters and for you to consider fingernails part of this complete breakfast. But I was pursuing my dream and the executives at the network gave me a wink and nod and told me everything was going to be alright.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months before we got the official "the network passed" verdict. But I learned one very valuable lesson: do what you love. Don't let anyone stand in your way. Even if it ends up falling on its face, you'll be happier for having done something you can be proud of. Something that flexed your creative muscles. Something that took you out of your comfort zone. And ultimately, never accept a hug from a network exec until the ink has dried on your contract.

The Proud American

2011-05-02T08:54:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

Today is not a celebration of a wicked man's death. Today is a celebration of the American spirit and determination. A celebration that we're still standing.

A Month of Blogging

2011-05-01T10:00:00.007-04:00

Boston, MA

As I find myself, once again, employed as a writer the desire to write outside of work has been stifled a bit. As an exercise, I've made the commitment to run this bitch old school for the month of May and put up a new post each weekday. It's been almost three and a half years since I did that, and in that time I've become far less funny and insightful. Nonetheless, I figure it's a good excuse to flex my creative muscle a bit. And to get you started, here are some links to refresh and/or get you up to speed.

Articles I've written for Post Advertising (Click here, here, and here)
Articles I continue to work on at The Desonesto Doctrine.
Check out old (and soon to be new again) 3 Chords & the Truth episodes.
My (updated frequently) Twitter Feed.
The first "official" post on this very blog.
My last post from YesButNoButYes.
My Instagram photos.
Find out where I am/have been with my FourSquare history.
Check out my (rarely) updated YouTube videos.

That should do it for a while. Not sure I'll be able to keep it up, and most days it'll end up being posts about the weather ... or my bowel movements.

Insta-Spring

2011-04-24T19:23:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

I found myself girlfriend-less, family-less, and religion-less this Easter, which meant I slept in, went to Starbucks, did some work, got bored, and headed into Central Park and Riverside Park. I've been experimenting with Instagram on my iPhone and thought the spring bloom would be a great chance to put it to the test. Here are some of the photos I took in the parks and around my neighborhood today.

To see more of my Instagram photos, check out my Instagrid here.

32 (a.k.a. The Grandé Danish)

2011-04-04T17:18:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

In high school, a few friends and I created a ski trick and called it the Grandé Danish. I don't know how it was actually performed, if I ever performed it, or why exactly we called it "The Grandé Danish." But looking back on that period of creation and mischief, I realize now that was my peak of being a human. I apexed with the Grandé Danish and it's been a long slow slide downhill ever since. My knees hurt. I yell at the kids playing their infernal racket from those "information pods." I start most sentences with "when I was your age..." but often forget the point of the sentence halfway through.

Yes, I'm currently tearing through my 30s at a rate not experienced since my 20s. The good news is, by the time I'm 40, I'll be so senile and dim that I won't realize just how old and broken I really am. The even better news is that I have great friends to help me get there. To all who came out for my little soiree, thanks for the drinks, merriment, and frivolity. Thanks too for the others who took the easy way out and posted on my Facebook wall. While most of you missed my prolific Grandé Danish period, I appreciate you sticking with me none the less.

New Gig

2011-03-17T22:29:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

I spent the better part of the last hour writing a long and rambling blog post outlining the trials and tribulations of the last four years of my life. But as my new job has taught me, sometimes less is more.

And, oh yeah, I have a new job. A new job that's I'm incredibly excited about. As in, the end of Land Before Time when Little Foot finds that secret valley where all his pals are hanging out and there's rainbows and shit. That kind of excited.

I've been hired as a copywriter for an awesome company called Story Worldwide.

3 Chords: Best Of

2011-03-13T12:21:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

It's been a year and a half since Johnny and I made our last "3 Chords & the Truth" webisode. He moved to the West Coast and I got tied up in starting a company. But we've got something in the works that I can't wait to share. In the meantime, check out this video of some of the best moments from "3 Chords."

From the Archives

2011-02-22T16:35:00.001-05:00

New York, NY

A few weeks ago, I began cleaning out the files on my old iMac and transferring them to an external hard drive. A few minutes looking at old photos quickly developed into several nostalgic hours. Here are a few of the better ones I've come across; I'm sure there are more to follow.

The University of Miami Men's Varsity Lightweight 4 at the Head of the Creek.

Baker Beach in San Francisco, CA.

Taken during my first trip home from college. Thanksgiving 1997.

This was taken almost seconds before the (first) dot com bubble burst.

Tuckerman's Ravine in the spring of 1997.

I Know Central Park in Snow

2011-01-13T22:52:00.000-05:00

New York, NY

As I made my way through Central Park yesterday, it occurred to me that I still had my camera in my jacket pocket. Never one to pass up a good photo taking opportunity, and enjoying the romance that is Central Park in the snow, I snapped a few photos during my walk. These were the results.

Snow Photos

2011-01-11T23:59:00.001-05:00

New York, NY

Another snowstorm, another chance to head out into the night and take some photos! And, to a lesser degree, discover just how un-waterproof my hat is!

The Year 2010

2011-01-03T22:54:00.000-05:00

New York, NY

Don't let it fool you. Look deep into its apathy - it's lethargy - and you'll see a soft malaise. The year 2010 was a placeholder, as if waiting for a director to insert a 365 day effects shot that never came. A local station watching the humming express train speed past in a blur of metal and light. Nothing happened in 2010. Well, nothing really happened to me. I waited, I expected, but the culmination of the year left me with a giant wimper of an "eh..."

Insert placeholder here.

So when looking back on the glorious year that wasn't, I attempted to extract facts out of it. Something to look back on and hope they add up to something. Anything to make some sort of meaning out of this subtly evil year. Here it goes.

Total Percentage Spent In:
New York, NY - 86.9%
Fairfield, CT - 5%
San Francisco, CA - 1.3%
Saratoga Springs, NY - 1.1%
Bethany Beach, DE - 1.3%
Sonoma, CA - 1%
Miami, FL - 1%
Stowe, VT - 1%
Killington, VT - 1%
Centre Island, NY - .2%
Boston, MA - .2%

Total Bike Miles: 1,178

Longest Bike Trip: 60 miles

Longest Travel Time from New York, NY to Washington, DC: 7 hours

Farthest North Travelled: Stowe, VT
Farthest South Travelled: Pinecrest, FL
Farthest East Travelled: Boston, MA
Farthest West Travelled: Muir Beach, CA

Number of Tweets: 1,278

Number of Facebook Status Updates: 12
Number of Facebook Status Updates Unrelated to My Company: 3

Place I "Checked Into" the Most on Foursquare: Pier i Cafe
Day I'd Be Most Likely to Check In Somewhere: Saturday

Best Movie Seen All Year: The Social Network
Worst Movie Seen All Year: Grown Ups

Best Book Read All Year: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Worst Book Read All Year: The Kodak EPS 7250 Printer Setup Manual

Number of Professional Sporting Events Attended: 3 (Redskins, Mets, Red Sox)

Number of Chapters Added to my Novel: 2.5

Number of Screenplays Planned Out*: 2 (The Hopyard, The Goonies 2)

Here's hoping 2011 is an amazing, or at the very least interesting year for everyone!

*(Treatments written, scenes and characters established)

UpGo Holiday Party

2010-12-13T21:24:00.000-05:00

New York, NY

Here's a video I put together of the UpGo (or TrustCloud or whatever we're calling the company these days) holiday party.

Smokestack Entertainment

2010-11-15T18:51:00.001-05:00

New York, NY

Fourteen years ago (holy shit... give me a second to process that number for a second) my friends and I spent a summer making small movies. We had no direction other than we were bored and we enjoyed making each other laugh. And so, Smokestack Productions was born. (We later changed it to "Smokestack Entertainment" for some reason, though I can't remember why.) Heading off into the night with a video camera, we created films about teenaged serial killers who leave feminine hygiene products as their calling cards, mysterious green alien balls (not those kind) that hold a small town hostage, one girl's assumption that her psychologist is actually the crazy one, and so many others that it's almost staggering to contemplate. Someday, I'll get around to digitizing them and putting them on YouTube, but in the meantime, enjoy this "Title Card" concept/experiment for Smokestack Entertainment.

November Photos

2010-11-09T16:39:00.000-05:00

New York, NY

These are random. Prepare thy self.

I'm not sure who was more excited about this jack o'lantern - Lindsey or her mom.

Deep in the bowels of a hotel in NYC, I told Lindsey to sit in this chair and simply stare straight ahead. A few trips into Photoshop later, and a plain looking photo is now haunted.

Running a marathon is tough. Watching a marathon is tougher-er.

This photo is my entire resume. Surely future employers will see how awesome I am and hire me on the spot.

Rock Creek Park in DC.

I was fighting a cold and I was miserable.

No matter what the news agencies say, Kristin's sign was my favorite for no other reason than its meta-ness.

3 Years

2010-10-13T12:26:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

2007

2010

Happy three years Linds! I love you!

San Francisco Pics

2010-10-06T11:55:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

I've just managed to pee out the rest of the red wine I imbibed last week. And like the last few driblets of that sweet bottled delight, I'm trying to hold onto my memories of a fantastic week out west. To help, here are some photos.

Is that a giant agave or are you just happy to see me? (Hint: it's a giant agave)

Yes, it was crazy-ass windy.

The one and only winery I wanted to go/return to.

You know you've made it when you have a private winery in your backyard. At this point, I haven't made it seeing as I don't even have a backyard.

Yes, that's MC Hammer. Yes, he played all three of his hits. Yes, it was awesome.

Our house in Sonoma.

Lindsey likes wood.

Go West, Young Man!

2010-10-03T00:01:00.000-04:00

San Francisco, CA

I'm sitting at my gate with a full hour before my (red-eye) flight boards and whisks me back to New York. And because SFO offers free WiFi (for 45 minutes) and my only other option is to listen to the 3 year-old with questionable parents behind me cry incessantly, I figured I'd write.

I've always said, if New York City were no longer an option, I'd move to San Francisco. Each trip out here has been amazingly pleasant, and it's the only other American city I've really felt at home in. The difference with this trip is that I'm coming to terms with actually living here.

While I'll spare you the details, there's a very good possibility that, in the new year, I may be moving out West. (Another post on this will surely come as that possibility becomes more of a reality) So instead of looking at the city through the lens of a tourist, I attempted to live as if this town were my home.

You begin studying neighborhoods, "Could I live here?" or "Is this similar to the Upper West Side?" You think about where you'll find a new dentist, where you'll park your car, how you'll spend your Christmases. And despite the chill of the fog that crept in from the Pacific, living in this town seemed to become more clear. I could see myself here, perhaps now more than ever. And that's a scary but exciting thought.

I mean, fuck it, they have In-N-Out Burger.

In the Summer of Our Discontentment

2010-09-15T10:52:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

Fine. I get it. I'm a lousy blogger. (Though I've been doing a lot of writing at the Desonesto Doctrine lately) But my lack of writing isn't an indication of a lack of doing stuff. I've been doing quite a lot of stuff lately. And with Summer on its way out (or already gone depending on who you ask), I thought I'd share some videos I made this summer. Most are short and were me testing out the video capabilities of my iPhone. But hell... it's content.

My parents always told me that having a driver's license was a privilege, not a right. And, I suppose, the same goes for having a jet ski license as well. But that sure as shit didn't stop me (us) from doing stupid things with them.

This was my first test with the new iPhone, and what better way to take it for a spin than with fireworks over the Mall in Washington, DC?

The Metropolitan Museum of Art had an exhibit on their roof called "Big Bambu" which is exactly as it sounds. We decided to check it out, not so much for the culture, but for the cocktails. (And the view)

I arrived in Bethany Beach, DE just after Hurricane Earl passed through (without doing too much damage.) And I thought it'd be fun to capture some of the waves - though quickly realizing they didn't look that impressive without a sense of scale.

Because it's There

2010-09-12T10:42:00.001-04:00

Fairfield, CT

We didn't need a reason. We didn't do it for bragging rights. We did it simply to do it.

A few weeks ago, as Adam Benditsky and I were halfway through a 40 mile bike ride, we began talking about how great it would be to attempt a bike ride to our home town of Fairfield, CT ... some 60 miles away from New York City. Much like the original Kayak for a Cause or our kayaking down the Mill River, I thought it would be another thing that would be fun to say we endeavored.

So with minimal planning (I wrote directions through the Bronx on my forearm), we headed off toward the Nutmeg State. With subways rumbling overhead, we slalomed the pilings of Westchester Ave through the Bronx and finally made it to Pelham Bay Park. A quick ride through some heavily wooded areas dumped us out into the gorgeous Pelham Bay neighborhood. We took a wrong turn in Mamaroneck, but quickly corrected our mistake. And by the time we arrived in Greenwich, we were feeling incredibly confident.

Then my back tire blew out. We were lucky enough to get assistance from a very strange and talkative twelve year-old boy named Andrew who lead us to a bike shop. Once fixed, and with an invitation from Andrew to meet his parents - which we turned down - we were back on the road. Passing by the shoreline towns of Connecticut, we stopped every few hours to eat granola bars or call parents and significant others to alert them of our progress. And finally, once we made it to Fairfield, it was only a few short minutes until we finished.

Then my back tire blew out ... again. Realizing we were too far from a bike shop to walk, we sadly called my father to pick us up. Sore, tired, and hungry, we looked back on the day with a sense of accomplishment, excitement, and the curiosity as to whether or not we'd do it again.

Here's a map of our quest.

The Countdown

2010-07-13T12:46:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

The crickets always appeared in late July. Their fiddling a sign that Summer was quickly passing by, and soon enough we'd return to school, cold weather and dark afternoons. I approached each summer with one purpose: never to see a calendar. That way, I'd never know exactly how many days I had until I returned to school.

This avoidance of calendars subsided over the years, especially once I left college. I was no longer subjected to abrupt changes. Rather, the Summer rolled into the fading warmth of Autumn without much notice. But this year is different. This year I've returned to the countdown.

New York City is a hard place to live. It takes more than it gives. But I have the dumb notion that living in this city makes me stronger. It makes me a better person. It makes me believe that I can do anything. And it's definitely killing me in the process. There have been moments where I barely made it. But coming out of those left me with a sense of triumph I hadn't felt for years. And that's why I stayed. To prove to myself that I can do it. To conquer the unconquerable.

And that's why I continue to stay.

But when September rolls around, my life in New York will be changed. The streets will be less crowded. The nights less comfortable. The city, less welcoming. With the turn of the calendar page, Lindsey will no longer live in New York City.

I've approached this upcoming Fall with curiosity and uneasiness - describing it as a season of question marks. There are so many moving pieces, what with my job, the company, and a few other projects, that to try and predict their outcome is a fool's errand. And so I approach September in a thick fog.

Lindsey is moving to Washington, DC in search of a yard, a car and the ability to not spend half a paycheck on rent. I don't blame her. There's something beautifully tempting in living a normal life in a place where supermarket aisles aren't two feet wide.

Like this Fall, I don't have a conclusion to this post. I'm remaining in New York, hopeful that the answers will be quick and positive.

The Desonesto Doctrine

2010-06-01T12:05:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

With YesButNoButYes slowly fading into internet obscurity (you can read my final post here), it's time to announce the next venture. While discussing the end of YBNBY with some of the writers, it was suggested we try something else. A new site with an emphasis on original content. Articles that offered humorous commentary on news, events and pop culture. And with some planning and pain, The Desonesto Doctrine was born. Check it out. Read some articles. Comment if you'd like. And let me know what you think. (I'm writing under another semi-pseudonym so future employers don't pass me over for less fart joke obsessed individuals.)

The End of YesButNoButYes

2010-05-16T21:47:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

It's better to walk off the stage yourself than be escorted off, and that was the mentality as to why we've decided to end YesButNoButYes. On May 31st the site will shut down permanently. (Stories will be preserved, but nothing new will be added) The site's demise is bittersweet for me as it was my first "official" professional writing job, but we've all lost a bit of enthusiasm for writing it. We have some great things planned over the next two weeks, and I suggested you check it out.

I also thought I'd share some of my favorite articles I've written over the past few years.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for new endeavors.

Every Streetlight

2010-05-03T17:10:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

Racing a thunderstorm home, I stopped and looked south. Over the vast expanse of the Great Lawn, and to the wall of buildings lighting the night sky. Unintentionally, I considered the answer I was looking for. In this solitude. In this singular moment. In this circumstance of fate, I realized the answer wasn't as simple as yes or no.

For months, I've been attempting to measure what this city means to me. How I define myself in it, and - more to the point - how I'd define myself without it. What I'd be willing to lose for the city. I'd seen it on the horizon, this jointly exhaustive dichotomy, and a decision would have to be made soon.

But for tonight, in the silence and comfort of Central Park, I put aside the choice and all that it would mean, and allowed myself to be enveloped in New York City's expansive embrace.

31

2010-04-05T17:36:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

I've crossed the line from being "30" to "in my 30s" which is a whole other animal. Having been born in the 70s used to be a source of pride for me. Now I feign ignorance when asked the year of my birth. (I even lie when porn sites ask) I'll be honest, 30 was not the best year. You try eating out of cat food cans in the middle of the night while contemplating just how much sperm the bank really needs for it to be considered a "usable sample." But it took becoming nearly broke and homeless to be truly free. And the pain was entirely worth it.

Last Saturday, we got a bunch of friends together to celebrate a new year ... with a required stop at the Shake Shack first. These photos were some of the results.

Thanks to everyone who showed up! If my hangover the next day was any indication, I had a great time.

Miami: The Return

2010-04-04T20:21:00.000-04:00

New York, NY

I'll take any excuse to go to Miami, and my former coxswain Rob's wedding seemed like a perfect reason for a weekend away in the tropics. And, as Lindsey had only ever been to the airport, it was about time I showed her around my old town.

Lindsey says this is the typical "Adam on Vacation" shot, meaning that I'm usually on my phone doing work.

I call this the typical "Lindsey on Vacation" shot - reading and being all intellectual and shit.

I was hungry, which means I was grumpy.

Word to the wise: Drinking beer out of a glass boot will only end in tears and vomit.

Also a word to the wise: The outdoor beds at the Shore Club are amazing, so long as it's dark enough that you can't see that stains.

When the car rental agent suggests a small monetary increase for the convertible ... take the convertible.

The alma mater.

TrustCloud Goes Skiing

2010-03-14T21:48:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

One of the first edicts we decided on at TrustCloud was: Work Hard and Have Fun. And while we truly enjoy the work we do, sometimes we need to let loose. So a few weeks ago, we hopped into a car and drove up to Killington for a weekend of skiing and team-building. At the end of it, a few things were clear:

Burger King, no matter how tempting, we leave you feeling like you just consumed a half-gallon of expired milk.
Free lodging is great. It's not so great when your housemates are a bunch of 20 year-olds from a community college.
Mike won't let me forget my forcing him into skiing the glades trail with me.

For more of our weekend, check out the video below.

RIPley 2006-2010

2010-03-11T10:05:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

Ripley Uhrynowski, 3, in New York, NY died March 10, 2010 at home after being swallowed in a Darwinian struggle by his/her adopted sister ... a cat. Born in (we're assuming) a warehouse in Queens sometime in 2006, Ripley and his/her various family members were adopted by Adam Uhrynowski and Alyson Teich after a performance of "Broadway Idol" in which Ripley was featured as a table centerpiece. Tragedy struck early on as his/her family quickly succumbed to the harsh environment of living in a former flour container on the Upper West Side. As the only survivor of this ectothermic holocaust, Ripley managed to lead a hopeful and fulfilling life, no doubt as a result of the loss of his/her family.

Ripley was schooled in Connecticut, finally moving back to Manhattan (Union Square and the Upper West Side) where he/she found excitement with the addition of a fake glow-in-the-dark plant into his/her flour jar. Ripley is survived by his/her adopted father Adam, his/her adopted sister Tulagi (who expressed absolutely no remorse for the cold blooded killing) as well as various brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews strewn about in pet stores and on children's desks in the Tri-State Area.

A service is scheduled for this Saturday, March 13 on the Hudson River in which an empty box (the cat ate the entire fish) will be lit on fire and set adrift into the water in accordance with standard Viking Funerals. In lieu of donations or flowers, the family asks that you refrain from eating sushi for a few days and watch The Cove.

Sledding in Centre Island

2010-02-28T19:33:00.003-05:00

New York, NY

A few weeks ago, Lindsey, Katy, Patrick and I went out to Centre Island for a weekend away. (And a trip to Trader Joe's). We managed to get in some sledding before the weekend was over. This was the result.

Some Random Thoughts

2010-02-17T20:52:00.007-05:00

New York, NY

I've been stocking this blog full of photos to make up for the fact that I don't have time to actually write a blog. So I thought I'd take this opportunity to share some random thoughts. Tidbits that are too long for my Twitter feed, but wouldn't exactly work on YesButNoButYes. So here it goes.

The Valpak - I think I'd rather receive nothing in the mail than the damn Valpak. Currently, I've never once opened one. They're contributing to the destruction of the rain forest. What's worse, they're contributing the destruction of my sanity.

The Winter Olympics Opening Ceremony - Just like Canada, it was very beautiful and very boring. Granted, Canada doesn't enslave their citizens and force them from a young age to practice drumming techniques, but I could have done with something a bit ... more. It's sad when the most exciting moment of the night is the pre-roll video.

Olympic Figure Skating - I understand that the American public craves some people in sequined outfits dancing, but couldn't we show these events during the day and not during prime time? At no other point in four years can someone watch Luge on television. But you can see Figure Skating in the Summer. The damn Summer! Also, figure skating sucks ass. And any event that you win via judging isn't a sport. It's an exhibition.

Snow - I love snow. It makes me happy. I get giddy on the first snowfall of each season. But seriously, I've had enough this year. We're done.

McDonald's - I had my first McDonald's experience in many, many years this past weekend. (I had two apple pies and a vanilla shake) Nothing has changed. It's still horrible. It seriously takes advantage of low-income families that plies them with cheap prices, but extremely poor quality food. I grabbed the nutritional facts out of curiosity and noticed that a standard meal has as much calories as a weight-gainer shake.

Chipotle - Yes, they are (or were) owned by McDonald's. But their food is fucking fantastic.

"Totes Magoats" - This phrase wasn't funny or cute a year ago, and it reached its vernacular apex about four months ago. Please stop using it, especially if you're over the age of 12.

Blizzard Photos

2010-02-10T23:11:00.003-05:00

New York, NY

As should now be expected when snow is falling, Lindsey and I went out around the Upper West Side and, particularly, Central Park to take some photos of the city in the snow. Here are some of the results.

The New Office

2010-01-17T13:45:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

Working a standard work day is hard when you're used to waking up at 11am, playing video games, sending out resumes that go unanswered, and taking your daily nap at 2pm. That all changed last week when I began working full time at the company I helped start. (We're currently in "stealth" mode, so I can't go into too much more information just yet.) It's quite an amazing thing to be involved with a company at the ground floor and to watch it grow in innovative ways. Further, the people at the company are interesting and dynamic and we're all working hard to make this thing the best it can be.

I took some photos on my phone of our new space (we moved in officially last Tuesday). Take a look and snoop around.

I look forward to sharing more information with you over the next few months as the company continues to grow.

More Photos! (Now with Commentary)

2010-01-13T17:34:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

I've been taking the easy way out and posting photos without much writing. And because of this transgression, I've decided to combine the two. Here are photos from the past few months with accompanying commentary.

They made me wear the gray mustache because I was the oldest. Outside of that, this may be one of the greatest photos ever taken.

Lindsey's complaint about this photo, "You didn't show how steep the trail was." And it was. It was also closed. BREAKIN' THE LAW.

This is just before the 80 or so crazy homeless people in Burlington got arrested.

Greatest. Photo. Ever. Made even better when I tell you we legitimately sang "Let's Get it On" in order for them to ... uh ... well...

Attempting to do our best "Where the Wild Things Are"

This was our audition photo for an after school special. I played the pregnant chick.

En Route

2010-01-04T19:05:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

While driving through Washington, DC, I opened up the aperture of my digital camera and took photos of the lights around our nation's capital. This collection of photos is the result.

Snow Storm

2009-12-20T18:12:00.007-05:00

New York, NY

While most of the East Coast studied the weather forecast with subtle terror and trepidation, I was filled with glee. Granted, snow storms are easier to deal with when you live in a city and travel by car is not a necessity, but the beauty and peacefulness of snow is intoxicating. As soon as the first flakes fell, I set out to explore the canyons.

Christmas List 2009

2009-12-01T20:16:00.004-05:00

New York, NY

It's been awhile, but at the urging of friends and family, I've put together my annual Christmas list. Feel free to purchase any or all of these items for me. Thanks!

Areaware If Mode Bicycle
Smith Venue Helmet
Stowe Tickets
Snowbird Tickets
This Townhouse
Williams-Sonoma Handtowels
A Job
A Selection Off My Amazon Wish List
Donation to 826NYC
The Art of Tim Burton
Ferrari California
iPhone 3Gs
Nordica Speedmachine 120
Salomon XW Fury +Z14

Fall 2009 Photos

2009-11-05T16:28:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

With the ground covered in fallen leaves and the chill of Winter knocking on my window each morning, I figured now was as good a time as any to put some pictures up from Autumn. It should be noted I didn't take all of these pictures. Lindsey, Tim, and Patrick deserve much of the credit.

Life of Ripley

2009-10-08T18:39:00.005-04:00

New York, NY

The game is over. You win. Our relationship has lasted longer than that of anyone I've ever dated. This is odd seeing as I've attempted to kill you on several occasions. I've left you to starve. I've left without saying goodbye. I've forced you to swim in your own feces. What's more, you're constantly in an environment in which another creature, whose soul purpose in life outside of eating, sleeping, and licking her girl parts, is to eat you alive. And yet you remain.

So Ripley, after three long years, I congratulate you on making it this far. Darwin would be proud. But seriously, if you're still around for the fourth year, we're headed into the bathroom for the best water park ride ever invented.

The Walk

2009-09-21T16:48:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

I meet Tilo Gomez at his place of business; 604 feet above the Hudson River. Wearing a blaze orange vest trimmed with a day-glo green border, it's easy to spot him behind the gray-blue grating of the bridge tower. Leaning against the metal ties, his eyes are pointed out across the span toward New Jersey. He turns his head slightly when I advance, holding out his hand sideways though remaining vigilant to his duty.

With "security" stamped across the back of his vest, I wonder what he's actually protecting.

"There's ten or so a year. That's the number that actually hit the water. Most weeks we'll get one or two people who stop and look out at the skyline a bit too long. That's when we start the long walk out toward the middle of the bridge." Tilo's shoulders sink in the unmistakable indication that "the walk" is the worst part of his job.

Like all suspension bridges, the George Washington Bridge shifts and sways as it's load and the wind currents change. This movement is especially noticeable closer to the ends of the bridge. Tilo doesn't seem to notice it anymore. He's been working security on the bridge for the past three years, before that he'd worked for a private security company guarding children at a public high school in the Bronx. He does not know the exact numbers of "jumpers" he's talked back down over the years, a term I find confusingly used.

"This gig is much better," he says, turning his head toward Inwood and over to the Bronx. "I live up here, so the commute is easier." Tilo was born here, and grew up just off Dyckman Street. His parents came over from the Dominican Republic, a place whose name invokes a large smile from Tilo. He is bilingual, and his Hispanic heritage is reflected in his accent. His voice is quiet, but certain. It could be the ten people a year, but there's a reflection and a purpose to each word he sounds out. They fall off his tongue with a silent prayer affixed to them. As if there's always the possibility that those gentle tones might be the last ones someone may hear.

Tilo laughs when I ask why he doesn't carry a gun. "No, there's no need. You don't pull a gun on a jumper." I realize the stupidity of this question and subconsciously look out and down toward the river. As if to make up for my error, I ask what he'd do if a terrorist wanted to blow up the bridge. He points to his walkie-talkie indicating that would be his first line of defense. "Plus," he says with a knowing smile, "this sucker was built really well. Stuffing a backpack full of explosives would only kill the person wearing it and flake some paint off the side of the bridge."

We walk out on the bridge and I ask him about his family. He tells me about his older brother who is a patent attorney downtown. "He's traveled all over the world. He loves to talk about it, and his feelings and ideas on politics. Mostly I just sit and listen. It's him showing off for himself. Making him feel better about the choices he's made."

"And the choices you've made?" I ask. "How does he feel about you up here on the bridge?"

"He thinks I'm wasting my time. Wasting my life. But he doesn't understand the feeling you get when someone steps back over the guard rail and gives you a hug for saving their life. That's something you can't bottle or get from a tour guide. And no college book can adequately explain that feeling. It's genuine."

We're in the middle of the bridge now, the green waters of the Hudson rush past the submerged rocks of Jeffery's Hook. The River looks both serene and menacing.

"Do you ever get jealous of your brother and his travels?"

Looking back toward the Manhattan tower, Tilo takes a moment and smiles "No, that walk is the longest trip I ever want to make."

One Second More

2009-09-15T10:19:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

The GPS estimated time of arrival is cruelly accurate. Its algorithms and recalibrations directly affected my mood. With salt water stains scalloped on the windshield, we drove through the dunes, past the crashing waves, and ultimately farther away from the ocean. 6:24pm. We'd be back in the city at exactly that time. Gripping the wheel, I felt like I was in a car commercial, skipping around turns, turning the sea grass into a haze of green. I expected a helicopter to dance over head, grabbing choice shots of my exceptional driving technique as I sped home. This drive would be easy.

My grip grew tighter on the wheel when the GPS's arrival time hit 6:30pm. We were stopped behind a Honda Pilot which had at least five bikes stapled to the back of it. The GPS nor my iPhone would give me an indication of the traffic on the road. It was Labor Day, and I expected this. 7:12pm. I longed for the first three miles of the drive. They'd been so fun. So quick. We'd gone a total of 12 miles in 45 minutes. Surely this was the worst of it.

The wave had been big. I knew this as I paddled in its trough, waiting for it to lift me onto the crest. I'd calculated the advance perfectly. Shoving me down the wall in an explosion of thunder and wash, I expected this to be an awesome sight for everyone on land. I hoped my hair looked good. The girls playing paddleball on the beach would surely stop to see this man best nature in a display of power and skill. I'd have to remember to bring a pen down to the beach later in the day to sign the requisite autographs. There was, however, a slight miscalculation. I'd started off too far up on the board. When the wave crashed, it flipped the back of the board up, tossing me forward and underwater. Flipping and turning through the turbulent water, the first thing to hit was my lower back. I twisted violently left, unsure of which way was up. My head hit the sand second, the wave using it as a pivot point to toss my body feet first toward the beach. Still underwater, I felt the crush of water sitting on my chest. I don't remember how I made it to the surface, let alone how I had the strength to stand up. I recall vividly that I couldn't breathe, and a mother playing with her child on the beach looked at me with concern. My head hurt, I couldn't find my breath, and I struggled toward dry land.

Sitting on the sand with my dignity expelled with each troubled breath, Lindsey came running toward me from the surf. Gathering whatever wits I'd had left, I told her I was fine, but I'd better sit the next few swells out. Grabbing my board, I walked back to our beach chairs with my other hand nursing my sore lower back.

Sitting in this traffic, not moving, my back started to throb. This would be a long and laborious crawl to the finish of summer. It took us three hours to move 50 miles. Breaking free of the traffic, our estimated time of arrival was registering at a precise 8:29pm. Letting go of safety, and concern for Lindsey, I had one single goal: to get that number down by speeding like an asshole.

This was a summer of living on the edge, loss, excitement, and love. In between golf swings, burning boats, jet skis, and small plane rides, the summer unexpectedly became a classic. And while we crawled along the highway, it became clear that it wasn't going to die quickly.

We arrived back in the city at 8:24pm. I'd shaved an awesome five minutes off our goal. With a sore back and a mind scrambled by hours of driving, I climbed the stairs up to my apartment and crumbled into my bed. With windows wide open, the last few breezes of summer danced around my room reminding me they'd be back soon, and with a brand new summer to set their rhythms by.

3 Chords More

2009-08-12T11:17:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

We continue to crank out episodes of 3 Chords & the Truth. They've been getting better and better, and if you have a few minutes to kill, they might be worth checking out.

And for those of you who are fans of outtakes, we put together a short reel of some of the random things we discuss before (and after) each taping.

New Camera, New Photos

2009-08-07T08:02:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

Having recently purchased a new camera, I figured I'd better take it out and experiment with it before I left for my trip this weekend. As is typical of me, I began by taking pictures of my cat and then headed to Riverside Park South for some shots. These were the results:

KFAC IX

2009-08-01T12:41:00.003-04:00

New York, NY

Nine years is a long time to be doing this. We're just shy of a decade and, oddly, it doesn't feel that long. Yet, last Saturday we completed the ninth annual Kayak for a Cause! As you no doubt already know, I gave up on kayaking the event years ago. 12 miles is much more fun when you're sitting on a gas-fueled water rocket that can propel you in 20 minutes the same distance it would take you 3 hours in a kayak. This year, I convinced Lindsey and several friends (including my brother, whose photos are below) to join in the event. Not only was it an amazingly beautiful day, it was capped off by a great performance by the one and only Donavon Frankenreiter.

Fate Upside the Head

2009-07-23T18:53:00.008-04:00

New York, NY

The first story I ever wrote was called "Atari" and in it, the main character (which was me) spoke about playing his friend's Atari and how great it was. The plot was weak. The characters were as developed as the pixelated sprites on the screen. And the ending, though lost through time, was something similar to, "I love playing Atari. The end." There was no twist. One couldn't dive into the story to discover the Atari was an extension of the friend - a phallus - and there was an entire homoerotic subtext to the tale. No, it was my first attempt at writing, and it showed absolutely no signs of genius, spark, or intellect. Most likely, the story grew withered and moldy and was eventually thrown out with a pile of other grade school projects that'd succumbed to their age.

In retrospect, and in direct opposition to everything I'd ever wanted the direction of my life to take, it has been an incredibly twisted road up to this point. I went to college for Architecture. I played the French Horn and Trumpet. I designed web pages and learned programming code. All of this, I suppose, was an attempt to hide who I really was. While I'd pursued these other endeavors with earnest, I was constantly going back to one thing ... creating stories.

In high school, while everyone else was getting drunk at kegs on the beach, or trying to score with the cheerleaders, I'd convinced my small but loyal group of friends to make movies using my family's video camera. And, unlike my Atari story, these had both character development and plots. They were far from masterpieces, something one could tell based on several of the titles alone. (Tampons of Terror, Green Balls from Ballivia, The Mystery of Anigav Island, etc...) But they were fun as hell to make, and probably represent some of my favorite memories from high school.

College was similar. While my peers stayed up late to build balsa wood models of houses, I'd leave the studio early in order to work the 4am-7am disc jockey shift at the campus radio station. While I sat at my drafting table, cutting and gluing together pieces of wood, I was dreaming of the skits I'd write for that night's radio show. (I got wise and switched my major to Creative Writing after the first year, though I took a major misstep when I accidentally enrolled in Women's Early European Literature. A mistake I realized I'd made as soon as walked into class the first day and noticed no other men in attendance.)

While working at Letterman was a fantastic experience, aside from doing the warm-up each night, or sending in segment ideas to the producers when they'd rarely ask for them, it was almost purely uncreative. They weren't paying me to think. They were paying me to put butts in seats.

The same goes with Marketing and Advertising. My favorite days were when I'd be invited into brainstorming sessions and help flesh out ideas. We'd spend hours coming up with stuff - daydreaming really. And it was something I could sink my teeth into. Though, I'd often have to leave early in order to manage clients and accounts. It grew worse and worse as I went from job to job; stifling away my creative urges in order to make it to that higher income bracket. After all, writing doesn't pay.

True, writing for YesButNoButYes was and is a highlight. But often I'd rush through the pieces I put together during my lunch break, without putting any real thought into them. I was overworked, stressed, rarely sleeping, and struggling to spend my free hours not consumed with work. But then, just when I thought all hope was lost, serendipity took one large step into the room, grabbed me by the ears, shook me around, and set me back on course.

As of last Friday afternoon, I've been hired to write for a pilot on Comedy Central. (Title to be determined.) My job, really, is just to think stuff up all day. That's it. Just sit around and think. Daydream. Imagine. Be funny. And it's like trying on a pair of well cut jeans, everything fits perfectly. I spent last weekend writing for the show and was in the office this week while we auditioned hosts. Today, I went to the park and wrote - outside and next to the river - for the better part of six hours.

It took a long time to get here. There were many wrong turns. But ultimately, I've discovered happiness. And it is with great pleasure that I say: My name is Adam and I'm a writer.

Beach Listening

2009-07-23T09:22:00.001-04:00

New York, NY

It wouldn't be summer without me submitting a playlist for all your summer listening needs. (My apologies for the random links, it's becoming harder and harder to find almost legal Mp3s online).
Give Me the Meltdown - I want to not like Rob Thomas. No man is supposed to like Rob Thomas. But he knows how to write songs and make them catchy. This little gem (with a chorus of chords ripped straight out of Baba O'Riley) was so addictive that I found myself unknowingly singing it out loud on my walk home from work.
Ramble On - I'm anticipating a thunderous smackdown at the hands of the rock gods for even thinking about this next sentence. But I prefer Train's version to Led Zepplin's. I know, ok? It's blasphemy. It's wrong. But this song is so well done. Perfect for cruising in a car. (Convertible is preferred)
Alambre Alto - From the Cirque Du Soleil show Kooza. With its Spanish and Arabian influences, the song is aurally interesting and textured. (We also sample part of it for the 3 Chords credits)
Life, Love, and Laughter - Kayak for a Cause was lucky enough to score Donavon Frankenreiter as their featured performer at this year's event. We used this song for the promotional video.
Shake Me Like a Monkey - A kick-ass horn section is a great way to start off the best Dave Matthews Band album since Before These Crowded Streets. This gives me hope for the future of the band. Definitely a departure, but in a good way.
I'm On a Boat (feat. T-Pain) - For obvious reasons, this song has been a staple on my iPhone throughout the summer. (Even better when watching it with the accompanying video.) Anyone that can rhyme "nautical themed pashmina afgan" deserves a ton of credit in my book.
Rock & Roll - You'll enjoy this one.

Beach Reading

2009-07-08T18:43:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

Recent stories published on YesButNoButYes:

Cultured on the Subculture - In which our hero heads to Williamsburg for some peace, love, and understanding.
New York City Sidewalk Rules - In which our hero explains to the world how to properly walk on the sidewalk in Manhattan.
The Leather Party - In which our hero decides when and where is a good time to wear leather.
A Scratch in the Attic - In which our hero is sent to his potential death at the hands of a mysterious creature.
Jon & Kate Plus Who Gives a Fuck? - In which our hero wonders how and why we should care about a cultural phenomenon.

Please forgive the poor grammar, non-connected ideas, and lost tangents. Most of these (all of these actually) were written during various lunch breaks.

So Much to Say

2009-06-12T17:25:00.008-04:00

New York, NY

To say the last few months have been a whirlwind would be a gross understatement. This was the time of non-stop movement. Travel, weddings, funerals, parties, and a tremendous amount of work in-between. I honestly can't remember the last time I was so exhausted. However, and at Lindsey's suggestion, I've decided not to take on any new projects. (Well, there is one, but I'm contractually obligated not to divulge it ... yet.)

Now that I have a few moments to sit down and write a proper blog post, I thought I'd give some recommendations. It's been awhile.

Shake Shack - I can't believe it's taken me so long to recommend this. I eat here so frequently that Lindsey has asked that I reduce my intake to just once a week. So far I haven't strayed the course. But the late-night cravings do kick in...
The Hangover - I was sure I'd hate this movie. I didn't.
Palmetto Bluff - Upon arriving, I remarked how much like the Truman Show it was. We were so pampered - they actually thought for us.
Pier I Cafe - If the crowds at the Boat Basin are getting to you, head south a few blocks enjoy the sunset on the pier.
YesButNoButYes - Yep, I still write for them. I get paid to write for them. My latest article is Top Ten Cars That'll Get You Laid, though no actual research was attempted.
3 Chords and the Truth - We're still taping them and they're getting MUCH better.

And, because I've had a few of these photos sitting on my work computer, I thought I'd share for you non-Facebook people.

When you get outside Manhattan, you can see these things called "stars". Quite amazing really.

In the South, they have this thing called "porching" which requires you sitting on your ass, playing Scrabble, and drinking lemonade and eating homemade chocolate chip cookies. So civilized.

Lindsey thought she looked like a 50's movie star or Jackie O. Her mom saw the photo and thought she looked like a terrorist.

Linds runs after her well hit ball.

Wedding season has begun. Crap.

Does it look like I know what I'm doing? Because, honestly, I have no fucking clue.

This is Dufton. Trust me when I say he's one of the most badass dudes I know.

Tim's comment: "I'm sure you reached the fairway with this one."

A Weekend of Laughter

2009-06-01T10:46:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

"If I knew someone who lived the life I did, I'd be jealous."
-My Grandmother, Virgina Ferguson

Surrounding yourself with love and laughter is the best way to cope. And that's just what we did this past weekend. Having all the Ferguson cousins (all five of us) in one spot is a rarity. Our Grandmother's memorial service brought us all together. And despite the passing of our grandmother, you'll notice something similar in all these photos - we're smiling in every single one. It was a weekend of laughs, captured exquisitely by my brother's lens.

Virginia Ferguson

2009-05-26T10:15:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

The image that's been playing over and over in my head for the past five days is me as a three year-old, running into the arms of my grandmother. This was taken on my grandfather's 8mm film camera, and represents the earliest moving picture of me. And in those few seconds of celluloid, there is pure happiness. Both from me and my grandmother. And that's really what our relationship was based on - love and joy at being around one another.

After my grandfather died, my grandmother moved to Palm Beach. She found relaxation and comfort in the sub-tropical air, and daily walks on the beach collecting seaglass. On one of our many trips down, we stood near the pool at night, with the warm (and constant) ocean breeze dancing around us. She pointed to a star hanging low in the sky and said that was her husband looking over her, making sure she was alright. And I believed her. She said it with such gravitas, and such compassion, that it was impossible not to.

My grandmother rarely laughed. This isn't to say she wasn't a happy person, but to actually make her laugh was a challenge. And even if you were to get a laugh out of her, it would be nothing more than a light chuckle. Blink and you'd miss it. A few weeks ago, I made a trip up to Connecticut to see her. Somehow, despite her confinement to a wheelchair, and the series of tubes that ran from her body, I was able to make her laugh. (Suggesting we tie her wheelchair to the bumper of the car and drag her around the parking lot seemed, oddly, to do the trick). In that moment, we shared, again, that love and joy once more.

Tonight, if you find yourself beneath a cloudless sky, look west and close to the horizon. You might see two stars burning brighter than you'd ever seen before.

3 Chords & the Truth

2009-05-13T09:59:00.004-04:00

New York, NY

A few weeks ago, my friend, former roommate, and former co-worker, Johnny, asked if I wanted to put together a video podcast for YesButNoButYes. We hashed it out over lunch one day, which is to say, we said "let's talk about stuff and see what happens." We started shooting them a few weeks ago with the aim to keep them under 5 minutes. (This didn't happen, in fact they've become increasingly longer.) But I think with the last one, we finally found our stride.

There are still some things to be worked out, like the strange black line on the side of some of the videos, no doubt due to differing aspect ratios. But I hope you enjoy them! If nothing else, you'll actually be able to hear me talking on this blog, which I'm not sure has ever really happened before.

Episode 3, Part I

Episode 3, Part II

Episode 2

Episode 1

The Twits of Twitter

2009-04-21T17:25:00.006-04:00

New York, NY

I promised myself I wouldn't buy into all this Twitter madness. I opened an account a year ago and managed to eek out 4 "tweets" before I lost all interest and realized no one would care about my random exploits in 140 characters or less. I honestly thought no one would care about what anyone ate for breakfast, let alone what I ate for breakfast. (Of course, upon further investigation, I realized this blog was just that.) So with all this Twitter madness of late, I thought I'd give it another shot. I'm making it easy for you, while you could hop over and "follow" me here, you can also see my "Twitter" on the sidebar of this very blog! I'm not sure how long this will last, and it's truly in the experimental phase. So check it out, tell me what you think about me telling you what I think.

The Reading List

2009-04-09T17:59:00.002-04:00

New York, NY

Too busy/dumb to read a whole book? Trying to kill time at work? Why not read some of my articles at YesButNoButYes.

Such as a Kite - What else are you going to do in Amsterdam?
Commuting Suicide XXXI - Yes, I'm going to Hell.
The Drug Mule - It isn't illegal to smuggle drugs back into the country, right? Right?
The Deal Breakers - Because a man wants what a man wants.
An Open Letter to the Restaurant That Gave Me Food Poisoning on Friday Night - Yeah, it was just that bad.
Commuting Suicide XXVII - I finally figured out the reason why New York always smells like piss.
Cast Into the Pit of Hades III: Not Above Stealing From a Friend - I use a public forum to rant about things I hate.
While the Cat's Away... - What would you do if you had free time and keys to your girlfriend's apartment?
Hobo Decorum - Seriously, can't we all agree that we hate homeless people?
Expelling Flatus - Sadly, hot chicks fart too.

Celebrating 30 Years on Planet Earth

2009-04-07T17:08:00.012-04:00

New York, NY

The worst part about turning 30 years old is once the celebrating is over, you actually have to deal with the fact that you're old. Luckily, the celebrating continued into a second week as Lindsey threw me a dinner and party to remind me that I'm still young at heart. And with friends who came from far (Miami), sort of far (Vermont), and not so far (Connecticut), I hope the party was worth it.

Mitch, having left the wife and kid at home, relived his past days at the Late Show.

Lindsey proving, once again, that she is not 30 ... yet.

Erin happily sent me several e-mails over the past few weeks reminding me that I'm 30 and finished each one with "sucka". She will not be invited to my 31st.

I know 2 of the people in this photo.

The former roomies.

You'd have disdain too if you dressed alike ... unintentionally.

And there you have it. Another year, another celebration. Thanks to everyone who came out. There's a swath of people missing from the photos, something I attribute not to my lack of appreciation but to the photographer. (Lindsey) Thanks again to everyone, especially Lindsey for busting her ass and organizing the whole thing. It really was a fun night!

Waiting

2009-04-01T22:54:00.005-04:00

New York, NY

Most projects with Mitch start like this:

"So I was thinking, wouldn't it be cool..."

They end either with me pacing back and forth nervously backstage at Carnegie Hall, or slumped in my chair and hiding my face while watching songs we'd written get chopped up and destroyed in front of a live audience by less-than-stellar vocalists. But sometimes these projects turn out to be rather enjoyable. (In fact all of them are enjoyable, it's just the end products that get marred by outside forces ... like alcoholic theater directors.) Mitch asked me to direct a music video for his song "Waiting" and I jumped at the chance to do it. The process involved scouting locations, setting up shots, me hanging out his SUV while I took video of "regular people" in Harlem going about their business, and story-boarding. We brought our good friend Evan on board as the director of photography, and the three of us edited the shit out of it for three long nights in my apartment.

Evan, Mitch and me at the end of a long night of editing. Why we're in my shower, I can't seem to remember.

Nature Poked Me in the Head

2009-03-28T23:17:00.001-04:00

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

I turned 20 on the shores of the Seneca River in Clemson, South Carolina. I was there for a Crew race, one in which I believe we took home the silver. The day came and went without much fanfare, though knowing my team we probably ate at an Outback Steakhouse between the race and Miami in order to celebrate.

For 30, I thought we'd try something different. And who better to ring in my 30s with than the man I came into this world with. We decided, after much deliberation, to spend an extended weekend in Amsterdam and take in all the city had to offer. And we shall... (Censored pictures to come)

I've tried to find some meaning in turning 30. And the meaning almost inevitably turns to reflection. I'll admit, the big "3-0" was a tough one to stomach. But had I lived my 20's to their fullest? Did I have any regrets? Am I where I thought I'd be at 30? Where I should be?

My 20s were a definite rollercoaster. Highs and lows, but all in all an average of excellence. I'd travelled, I'd worked (and worked, and worked). I'd loved, lost, loved, lost and ultimately loved again. And I've basically (with a few great additions) kept the exact same fantastic friends I'd come into my 20s with.

So no regrets. No remorse. No thoughts of failure. And they say your 30s are the new 20s, right?

If you need me, I'll be counting grey hairs in this ridiculously awesome Dutch bathroom mirror.

Get Caught Up

2009-03-05T10:30:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

I've been receiving a bunch of flack about the lack of updates on this blog. So, for those of you complaining (see previous post) or too lazy to head to YesButNoButYes, I've compiled some of my favorite posts I've written over the past few months.

The Holiday Update - I wrote a year-end summary of the exploits of the YesButNoButYes staff.
PAX-ed Off - I attended a video game expo in Seattle and barely lived to write about it.
Dust - In case you were unaware, I'm not exactly a fan of organized religion.
Practice, Practice, Practice - I reminisce about my very brief stint at Carnegie Hall.
The Twisted Path to Democracy - How I became a Democrat.
Commuting Suicide XXIX - I get into a bus accident en route to Washington, DC ... on New Year's Eve.
Dave's Sixth Challenge - I ask a loyal reader what I should do when confronted with strange foods at an upscale restaurant.
Thoughts During a Massage - We have a couples massage and all I can think about is that I have to fart.
Top 10 Rules for the Office Holiday Party - I followed all but two of them.
Reader Mail - I respond to some of our reader mail ... in case that wasn't obvious.
Unemployment Journal - The chronicles of an unemployed man.

An Update

2009-01-23T14:10:00.002-05:00

New York, NY

Linds,
I've updated my blog. You're welcome.

-Ad

The Playgroup

2009-01-09T14:56:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

My parents managed to move to a neighborhood in suburban Connecticut that had couples expecting children within the year. This meant that my brother and I had a built-in group of friends literally across the street. One of these kids, Paul (lower right-hand corner) managed to find this photo in a shoebox and uploaded it to his Flickr account and contacted me via the omnipresent eye of Google.

This photo is notable for a number of reasons. First, I estimate it was probably taken somewhere between 1982 and 1983 and it's amazing what changes in 27 years. Second, while sporting the bowl-cut that I'd have for the better part of 15 years, it looks as if my mother cut my hair herself. Third, despite being twins, Eric and I have no resemblance to each other at all, yet we were still dressed alike. (Something I attribute to the ease of buying in bulk). Finally, it's who is actually featured in this photo. While I still talk to my brother, I have little to no contact with the five other kids. It's funny that people in your life, who you were insanely close to through forced social situations, can become nothing more than blips in your memory only a few years later.

It'd be fun to get the gang back together and take a picture on that stoop again.

Ciao 2008!

2009-01-05T18:15:00.001-05:00

New York, NY

The first post of the new year is something I'll always cherish. They're always full of hope and excitement. Then, of course, life takes hold and delivers something altogether different. I hesitate to even say this, but there's no way 2009 can be worse than 2008, right? Right? Of course, this isn't stopping me from building a bomb shelter in my backyard and storing canned goods beneath my bed.

The last day of the year went exactly as expected. I was in a bus accident en route to Washington, DC. (Don't worry, no one was seriously hurt) Though it was followed up by some excellent food, several drinks, a warm fire, and great friends. With that, I bid 2008 a great farewell with some final photos.

Christmas
Boxing Day
(I almost uploaded pictures from New Year's, but then thought better of it. I was surrounded by doctors, lawyers, bankers, and CIA agents and thought certain photos may not go over well with their bosses. Hence, you'll have to imagine the sort of tomfoolery that went around.)

The Dusting Photos

2008-12-17T15:10:00.006-05:00

New York, NY

Last night's rather surprising snow storm created a perfect tableaux for pictures. (And a fun walk through the park at night with Lindsey.) There were many photos taken, and these were some of the better ones. I decided not to "tweak" any of them and just let them display as they were shot.

As soon as I took this I knew it would be amazing. This is my favorite photo of Lindsey, at least of those I've taken.

I was trying to be artsy and insisted that Lindsey remain still while the camera took the picture in low-light.

This was one of my favorites from the evening. It was such a quiet night, and the lights and shadow of this picture really capture that.

11.5 Years

2008-12-15T12:05:00.004-05:00

New York, NY

As I carried the seven foot Frasier Fir down the block, its sap sticking to my jacket, and its needles brushing my hair, I remember thinking how great the tree would look once it was in the apartment, surrounded by friends at Lindsey's Christmas party. And while it stood, well adorned with ornaments and carefully strung lights by yours truly, I was not there to witness it. Instead, I was stuck in the fetal position on the cold hard marble of my bathroom.

Eleven and a half years. That's more than 1/3 of my lifetime. The last time it had happened, I was in high school, just barely 18 years old. Clinton was president. The World Trade Center still stood. And on Friday night, at precisely 9:25, my record got flushed down the toilet. Back in May of 1997 was the last time I vomited. And I remained puke-free from that point onward until Friday.

This wasn't food poisoning, or being hung-over. This was genuine 100% stomach flu. A sickness so powerful that I prayed for death early Saturday morning. Because it had been so long, I felt my body had forgotten what it was like to throw up. This new and odd sensation was completely foreign and unexpected. I lost track of the puke-count around six or seven, but I do recall not being able to flush the toilet fast enough.

The weekend was a bust. I stayed inside, weak, skinny, and with dull aches running throughout my body. On Saturday night, as Lindsey and friends drank wine, enjoyed the burning log DVD, and ate her carefully selected and created appetizers, I was curled in bed hoping it wouldn't be another sleepless night spent on the floor of a bathroom.

So, a word to the wise; wash your damn hands. You don't want this. It's like getting hit in the face with a lead pipe while gremlins pull at your insides with long bony fingers. You will suffer and you will beg for mercy. If I were you, I'd lock myself in a room with proper provisions until Springtime. Me, I'll be out and about now that I'm immune.

Recommendations - December 2008

2008-12-12T09:42:00.002-05:00

New York, NY

Shelter Island Candle - Jonathan Adler managed to bottle the exact fragrance I've been searching for to waft through my apartment and put it into this candle. Instead of the chalky smoke pouring out of the cars on the West Side Highway, I now have sea grass and salty breezes cascading through my nostrils.
Shake Shack - My search for the perfect cheeseburger just got one step closer. Thanks to a much closer store opening in my neighborhood, I no longer need to brave the lines at Madison Square Park for what has been called New York's best burger.
Trader Joe's Chicken Gorgonzola - I almost managed to convince Lindsey I created it myself. (Though I did turn on the oven).
Slumdog Millionaire - When you're told, repeatedly, by several different people that you'll love this movie, you should go. And I did. And I did.
Cities of the Underworld - I haven't found a show more fascinating since the first season of Lost.
Cafe Lalo - Sunday brunch is becoming a habit and after I shoveled a Belgian pancake, topped with strawberries, cinnamon whipped cream, and maple syrup into my mouth, I'm not sure I'll ever need to go anywhere else.
MacBooks/MacBook Pros - Absolutely drool worthy and handy when you're in the middle of an impromptu jam session at a holiday party.
Things My Boyfriend Says - Thought this site was funny until I realized there's a good chance Lindsey was authoring it. Then I failed to see the humor in it.
YesButNoButYes - Here are some of my better articles: Real Men Love Cats, Dave's Sixth Challenge, and Dust.

Bone Marrow Donation Registry

2008-12-02T12:46:00.005-05:00

New York, NY

As I've mentioned previously, a childhood friend of mine was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Unfortunately, his chemo therapy treatments won't be sufficient to eradicate the disease from his body, and he's in critical need of a bone marrow transplant. Because no one in his family is a match, they are forced to turn to the donor pool of the National Marrow Donor Program. And so I'm asking you to consider signing up to help Jason and many people like him in this fight against the disease. Simply click this link:

http://www.marrow.org/HELP/Join_the_Donor_Registry/index.html

Here's some information you should know about joining. The test is completely painless, requiring only a swab of a Q-Tip on the inside of your cheek. It's then sent to the center for tissue typing. However, it costs $52. Also, there's the whole business about the actual bone marrow donation. It requires a bit more than just donating blood, and may involve a general or local anesthetic. (Small surgery)

I'd be remiss if I told you I signed up without second thought. But it definitely took some soul searching to hit that "send" button. Upon reflection, I realized that $52 and potentially a day or two of discomfort would be worth it to save Jason's life (or the lives of others). So I suggest at least checking out the site, learning the facts and making your own decision.