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When you see things like your employer on a wall with a pullquote of praise about how he's changed the shape of music, you think you yourself, my job is pretty cool.

A square in Williamsburg? That's a joke, son. I say that's a joke. We're too hip for that. Only triangles and rectangles. Pleeease. 

I wonder what grafitti was covered up by that brighter red area. 

I wonder if these couches are remnants of street-level Occuparty like that which recently achieved

A few weeks ago I'd read about an Army veteran and photographer who'd been putting up signage from the NYPD that, while fake, was ominous and yet highly plausible. Whoever is putting these up is brilliant.

"You look a little like Phil Collins," the 20-something girl behind the table said. "The blue eyes..."

I had to stop to appreciate ingenuity and frugality: this truck's grille is being held on by packing tape.

I had to pause and appreciate the non-sequitor advertisement for salami on the wall by the auto repair shop.

Man, it's all stroller pushers and dog walkers at this hour.

Pap turns 94 on the 2nd of February, Groundhog's Day. I flew back to Pittsburgh last night to be here for a family breakfast.