Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE THERMOSTAT Yeah, when you need a sign because everyone really really wants to touch the thermostat.

 So look, first of all, this new building is wild: In case you were wondering, I did not take this photo. I also did not take this photo. I took this photo. It's a very imposing entrance. I got invited to this conference. It was to be held at the JPM building where they have a Dry Bar stall with lots of hair products and fancy curling irons in almost all the rest rooms so yeah. Of course I decided to go, I did not even read the entire email.... as I tend not to when invited to something I literally could walk to from my apartment.  I mean, if the event sucks I could grab a snack and just go home, you see what I mean? Not bothering with all the fine print is called time management. So right, the email confirmation said I was invited to "Day 2." I figured there was a "Day 1" that was separate and which I was not invited to. Some VIP something or other. Fine, whatever. I only figured out when to show up because I got seven "you're coming right?" follo...

Two years ago I thought I was the only one left in the universe celebrating (not sure if that's the right word) NaBloPoMo. Frankly, you might have even convinced me I was the only maniac left still hammering away at a web log. (And if I just confused you with the "web log" lingo, I might have also thought it possible I'm the last one standing who still remembers explaining in the early aughts about this newfangled "blog" thing and how it was just "web" and "log" jammed together.) But then last year, feeling lonely and bereft, I googled "NaBloPoMo." And I found San's web log -- available with a wireless and/or ethernet internet hookup at   https://theinbetweenismine.com/nablopomo /.  San has daisy chained together a few dozen bloggers still pounding away out here with me in the world wide web. Chugging along the information superhighway as it were, getting passed on all sides by god knows what social media content creator inf...

  How it started... How it went: My bookclub made plans for dinner and a show. Specifically, a fancy dinner at Palma juxtaposed by one of those "work in progress" kinds of shows with $12 tickets.  The show in question was a one-woman performance and while it had a few hitches in its giddyup, the youth of today know how to put it all out there. It's not like back in my time when most of the not-quite-ready-for-primetime one acts were held together with like earnesty, goth vibes and dental floss. Three points for the internet and streaming video, I guess. So this show is the early show and it's over at 8:30. Upon exit, Casey notices the sign for a performance featuring Jim Rash (from the Way Way Back movie).  See photo above. You can see how one might presume that the Jim Rash performance is at 9pm and also be clear on where to line up. Casey is all in for a theatrical double header and she zips back inside and asks the young woman purveyor in the ticket window if seats...

We were down in Maryland with the whole fambo watching Jack's very first college soccer game and I tee'ed up this conversation at dinner. After one sentence, someone interrupted and began talking over me, which can only mean one thing: This topic is perfect for a blog post. I originally happened upon this whole matter while reading Reddit. I've been reading a lot of the Reddit. I'm not proud. But someone said something about something or other "In West Village."  And yes, Reddit hashtag NYC lost its mind.  Because it's "In THE West Village." West Village is always preceded by a THE. Just like THE Bronx. Speaking of boroughs, all the other boroughs do *not* start with a "the." For example, it's: Manhattan. Queens. Brooklyn. Staten Island. THE Bronx. As for the rest of the 'hoods.... I'd say "I'm going to Soho" (no "the"). I'd also say I'm going to NoMad, Chelsea, Turtle Bay, FlatIron,  Hells Ki...

  photocredit: otherwing photography We were upstate during a major flooding incident and all these crayfish were barreling across roads. "Why did the crayfish cross the road?" No freaking idea, by all accounts it seemed like a really dumbass idea.  We were upstate for the annual familypalooza week in an AirB&B and of course we picked the week it rained apocalyptically. Between the storms, we walked up and down the country roads near our place. We observed flooded out roadways, swamped bridges and pretty much just lakes on either side of the streets. We made comments on the depth, salt content, and likely water recession timelines like we had at least a clue what we were talking about. Which we did not, of course. We ran into this one woman, a volunteer firefighter who had been called to this ramshackle house up the street to pump out water in the basement that had risen higher than the first floor. She came out of the house and apparently saw a crayfish on the road, so s...