cultural divide (a short ditty, true story)

cultural divide (a short ditty, true story)

close up portrait of a antelope
Photo by Pixabay on

so anyway, if you read me, my blog I mean, I like to people watch from my porch and take in the super local nature at the same time, the other day some deer were born in my backyard and I caught one of the little fellas on video, so there I am sitting out last night, enjoying the lovely weather, letting nature purge the knots of my daily humanity, so on walks by this older Russian couple, I don’t know Russian but I guess I saw enough stereotyped movies in the 80s to recognize Russian, anyway, all of a sudden the wife starts walking up my neighbor’s lawn across the street, this is curious of course, but then I see one of the little baby deer I filmed last week, she was getting in close for a photo with her phone, I thought, so I walked over to see the deer also, I mean, cmon, they are adorable, I don’t care who you are, it is instant Bambi love moment man, sure, when they are older I think “yum, venison steak” but at that age? they are like forest puppies, so, she finally gets within spittin’ distance and the little one bolts, mama appears on the scene and they disappear off into the next block, so from across the street I tell them “I just saw that one born last week”, and without skipping a beat, in a very, almost made up, laid on thick Russian accent she blunts out (now say this out loud in the accent to get the effect)…

“it is baby… it is stupid”

ah, yeah, ruined that moment dead flat but those words just sounded so hilarious to me, the only clever thing I could think to say was “we were all stupid when we were babies”, and we both went our separate ways, so, the takeaway, maybe everyone is not as enamored with baby deer as I am…

a hot new jersey minute…

a hot new jersey minute…

people inside building
Photo by Naim Benjelloun on

I was driving to the local super market type place, right past the mall, and I will be damned, probably am, that the sucker’s parking lot is full, I don’t understand, to me these are like dinosaur bones propped up in a museum hall to be gawked at, well, apparently I am wrong, Jersey is a bastion of malls, apparently, to me they just remind me of the past, days gone by in another life, sort of the internet before there ever was one, one giant complex you could walk into and find everything you could possibly imagine, clothing, sure, that was always the first corridor and all the gateways, but then the big open space in the middle, shoes, electronics, the music store (remember those?), food, pottery and cookware, and inevitably a thousand more clothing places, pane windows filled with reflections of all the wide eyed consumer faces, spaces laced with escalators, little vendor carts with baubles, custom t shirts or hats, cheap jewelry, mobile massage parlors of sorts with water somehow, sometimes there would be a car on display, yes, very much like the internet, no Ebay, and then of course, the crowning jewel, the creme de la creme for me, the arcade, the shining city in the sky, the arcade, home game systems at the time just could not shine and mesmerize in those days like the live ones, Atari Tank against sit down Afterburner II? not even a contest my friend, the coin etiquette, placing that coin up on the ledge in line, pledging your intent, planting your flag as it were, “I’m next”, this quarter says so, and that was the law of the land, a true sugar rush as quarters or tokens hemorrhaged out of your grasp, Gauntlet? I probably paid off the programmers mortgage… TMNT 4 player, The Simpsons one too, learning all the tricks to trick the change machine, photocopied bills, bills with fishing lines attached, not saying I did those things, I just ‘heard’ about them, ahem, let’s move on… all before the internet, this was the gathering place we had, as strangers, the mall, so distant that all seems ago, I still can’t believe it is here, flanked by chain restaurants like guardhouses, also packed this eve, Olive Garden? with all the amazing or just above average Italian places in every nook and cranny, around every other corner, this is not the Olive Garden state people! I guess never ending pasta bowls are a panacea for ills, or just a place so generic it covers all the wills from the grumpy old to the fidgety new… back to the mall, I thought retail was dead, Jersey didn’t get the memo apparently, I honestly can not remember the last time I stepped into this place… but like many things my experience does not the truth make…

the continuing travails of jack, not the candle jumper, the lantern intern (whimsy)…

the continuing travails of jack, not the candle jumper, the lantern intern (whimsy)…

jack o lantern on top of wooden surface
Photo by Ylanite Koppens on

O’ withering Jack
you lowly schmuck
only luck kept you out of a pie
or worse yet pumpkin spice spam
or some sumptuous trendy latte, perhaps
or in the boil of some awful seasonal brew
no, you, are now just this sinking lump
a hump of rotten candy corn looking imitation
drooling out god knows what
from the corner of that hole that was your mouth part
drifting ever south
by the hour, ravens will not even peck
at your dead hollow eyes
in fact I do not think
I can pick you up in one piece
might I need a shovel
and dump you in the woods
like some mobster’s body
and then perhaps you may realize
your last final purpose…
to fertilize.

photo of woman holding a pumpkin
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on

O’ my poor Jack
my creation,
my creativity birthed to fruition
your iron toothed smile brought fright
spawning shadows cast into that hallow night
seeming singular purpose you did guard
my doorstep walkway and the yard
for not even a black cat did approach
nor spells of darkness dare encroach
not on your watch my good friend!
but with the pass of october and leafy dress
that last candle must flicker down
and when all wax is said and done
your watch will have ended
my esteemed, my surrogate, the one
until next harvest, the one

notes… these are just for fun, just me throwing out some lines thinking about the poor sap of a thing on my stoop… seasonal and such… this is a continuation of a previous post

Flooded: scribbling(s) from an ark…

Flooded: scribbling(s) from an ark…

ship rope dock cargo
Photo by Skitterphoto on

‘is this thing on? check, check, so this guy is gathering animals 2×2, stop me if you’ve heard this one, I’ll be here all month, try the unleavened bread’

this doesn’t seem so bad

I am starting to regret flipping a coin over crocodiles and unicorns… should have went with -rock -parchment -cutting tool…

note to self: lions and sea lions are not related, begrudgingly I had to admit the wife was right about sea horses and sea cows as well…

renovation note: moving hen house across the ark away from the fox hole

note to self: next time make more room for the porcupines

the llamas (well, specifically Lorenzo) spit at my wife, I think she saw me laugh, but I DID warn her about those darn things… and besides, it was hilarious…

I was doing roll call today and came across a couple of “duck-weasels”, sure, the placard says ‘platypus’ (whatever the hell that is), I swear sometimes I think god is just messing with me

man! hippos are hungry

trying to dry laundry in almost never ending rain really sucks…

sheesh, of all the things I brought two of, I’m glad I only brought one wife…

sleeping in the sheep’s quarter’s tonight, note to self: put away diary where wife can not read it

is now a bad time to mention I might be slightly claustrophobic? I could sure use that water to wine trick right now…

I wish sushi had been invented… and I can’t even get a decent cigar in this joint…

Horses and elephants??… I really should have thought this out better from a maintenance perspective…

things must be getting to me, I had a dream about pandas riding zebras playing polo… and polo hasn’t even been invented yet…

I envy bears, they can sleep through anything

note to self: skunks do not like surprises

how did I miscount the rabbits? there has to be a dozen of them now… addendum: boa constrictor food problem solved

I came up with a song to pass the time: “100 bottles of shekar on the wall, 100 bottles of shekar, take one down, pass it around, 99 bottles of shekar on the wall”, something seems a little off, I’ll work on it…

geese and ducks are like in-laws… I’ll leave that up for individual interpretation… I love my in-laws, I really do, of course they were drowned with everyone else, hey, who am I to question god’s judgement (chuckle)…

I keep telling the pigeons to stay off the sloths but they can’t help themselves I guess, old habits die hard…

the wife is no longer amused by my weather forecasts…

I have to tell ya, those kangaroo pouches come in handy when doing repairs, no more trunnels rolling around the old deck, no sir!

skinks are not “snakes with jazz hands”… geez, some creatures are so persnickety… you make one off handed comment and skinks make a stink about it for days…

I really should have built a bowling alley on this thing… charades just don’t cut it anymore… and the kids memorized all the trivial pursuit questions (old testament edition (c) )

note to future people, do not make a movie where the world is all water, just trust me on this one

everyone’s a critic… why didn’t you build this? why didn’t you build that? what? like I went to school for this? sheesh, damn back boat captains… let’s see you build an ark with no union labor…

well, there goes that experiment, pigs can not fly, I guess I should try a raven or a dove or something, eh, maybe tomorrow, I don’t want to be late for date night, the wife is already steamed at me, something about the seat being up or whatever…

notes… just some random silliness at what Noah’s diary might look like, well… sort of…

the sun will come out (or so I am told, I’m not convinced)

the sun will come out (or so I am told, I’m not convinced)

taxi on the road
Photo by Victor Miyata on

as much as I love rain, and thunderstorms (specifically), sometimes the wonder is shadowed over by angst or perhaps the persistence of the rain, driving in urban new jersey is perilous enough, throw in what looks like the contents of a washer on psycho spin cycle up against your windshield and even the staunchest optimist-acrat can become trodden down, last night was such one of these nights, no end to traffic in site, no accident on my side, not that I can see anyway, the whirring of flashing lights, ambulance, tow truck, fire truck, police, all speak to the seriousness of the wreck I can not even see, but in front is a winding river of endless angry red taillights, behind me a cauldron of various states of humanity, ranging from frustration, to anger, to the begrudging acceptance of fate, this night, a one hour drive stretches miles into two although the toll feels more like years shaved in-artfully off my soul, like a blunt object piercing my skull (think head butting a bowling ball, rinse, repeat), I should know better than succumb, but the seductive sirens sitting there on the concrete medians sing their song seducing, and lure me nearly into the rocks amidst this throng of mass humanity, somehow, by providence, sheer will, experience, and perhaps some blind luck I make it home without a scratch, aside from the aforementioned carved up and beaten about soul, I should know better, and have a firewall in place to brace for such equations, but sometimes 2+2 adds up to more than four, or my math skills have deteriorated past the point or no return, at least for now, I arrive in my driveway, did I mention I hate traffic?

Photo by Brett Sayles on

so this brings me to this morning, nothing unusual there, the humidity is making my car sweat, or perhaps the rain when I slept, no matter, I pop my trunk and water runs out on my arm good enough to soak a sleeve, “ah, continuation” I think, and so it goes, on down the road, same lefts and rights and lights and cars, of course there is an accident by the on ramp, why wouldn’t there be? getting to work on time becomes more of a fantasy than concrete reality, just more salt in the old wound I suspect, and the trek, why would the turnpike be clear this morning, thursdays are for traffic they say, or they don’t, but I think it anyway, anything to keep my mind drifting into road rage, which is a misnomer, I clearly am not mad at the road, the road can not help the lack of planning that has it crowded so, besides the poor thing is out here all hours of night, in all weather, so who am I to gripe? against my fellow man, woman or whatever, perhaps then, I watch people in my mirrors jockey in the lanes like slow motion indy 500 drivers, somehow I think myself better than them as I stay put in my lane, a little pocket of joy pops when I pass them, and a sliver of grrrr when they pass me, just the same, what the hell am I doing contemplating such things? feeling the swirling, like flushing down a drain, the rain is still in the zip code but relenting, and then, as if I texted the sky gods, the sun decided to have a go, a little late, but better now than never, you know one of those times like it seems the sky has opened and the very light of heaven is streaming down ? yeah, something like that… literally as if I had reached up in my basement and pulled that old string attached to the too short chain attached to the rickety light bulb that is probably older than dirt itself (judging by the dust cloud puff), the blazing sunlight bathes my car from hood to rear like a curtain pulling back, and then quite suddenly I felt a sense of, I don’t know how best to describe it, joy ? uplifting… joy? joy-spiration? (sure, that works) I did not literally turn 180 degrees as that would be foolish (and illegal, not to mention dangerous) but my spirit certainly did, in an instant of just abundant joy, from a mere smattering of sunlight revealed, and people wait on street corners for drugs… I should corner the market I tell you (if I could bottle the stuff)… but anyway, the moral of the story, well, OK there is no moral per se, just a reminder, a little spark of joy might just be around the corner (or the next one), so when you get dressed in the morning, remember your underwear (important), lace up your shoes with some hope, attune your ears to receive positive radar pings, warm up your eyes to the idea of possibility, be open to the world… and you may, just may, find a little slice of heaven out there just waiting for your to discover… or even just some crumbs of happiness, I’ll take either or the latter…

close up of black bird
Photo by Tobias Bjørkli on

notes… so I will leave you with that, I have a rare weekend off and I am going to venture into the wilds of New Jersey… yes! there are wilds here, mostly coastal salt marshes and such, and sadly I have never been to every corner of my own damn state!  shame on me, so I aim to fix that record, I will be traveling near Smithville…. in between some more famous places but after driving by a few times over the years it is time I stopped by and stayed awhile, at least a couple of nights, a king suite with a jacuzzi doesn’t hurt, just sayin’…

if you like the free form and rambling rambling rambling style please visit my Collections & Series page, scroll down to the Essay section… and to all who read this far or this at all, I bow, and say thanks. I do this for me but share it for others to see…

and I look up to the sky…

and I look up to the sky…

full moon illustration
Photo by Alex Andrews on

clouds laid out
like a flight of stairs
up the sky
onto the moon
my dreamer’s heart rise
to fly
above destiny’s bounds
to part this mortal ground
my eyes do not gaze
into the cold death of space
no stars dwell in the twilight now
the sensation of ascension
enamors my imagination
to that known twin, ancient friend
in this time of bright
when dimmed, the promise of return
might I ascend

notes: I looked up @ the sky and the clouds looked like a staircase…. and I thought… do I have the hops ? (I don’t know why this video made me laugh so much…)

no… sleep… till… (well, home from Brooklyn)…

no… sleep… till… (well, home from Brooklyn)…

people standing on brown bridge
Photo by Arthur Brognoli on

so I was driving home from Brooklyn the other night after upgrading a store after hours, not quite late but rather late (1am-ish let’s say), Brooklyn is many things, I might imagine that in your head you probably have a specific image of what that is, Brooklyn I mean, perhaps it is painted by your experience (you’re a local?) or just what you may have read/seen (hipsters, brownstones, the bridge, for me Peter Lugers…), but rest assured Brooklyn is many other things rarely advertised as such, where I was certainly is not a city, certainly not near Manhattan, certainly on the ocean (yes, that ocean), I suppose all of that is not important but I like to supplant what may be fallacy (or fantasy) about a given place, the particular stretch of road I was traversing is the Belt Parkway usually synonymous with hideous traffic, impromptu construction, long term construction, potholes, roving random repair of said potholes, localized flooding, did I mention mind-melting-question-your-ability-to-not-ram-your-car-into one-hundred-peopleoverandoverandover… but thankfully tonight was not one of those occasions (much to my surprise and delight), but still a strange evening, we have all seen fog and the like but this was not what was in sight, I can best describe it as creeping humidity, you could see it, almost touch it, feel like your car was parting the red sea as it was moving through it, the road lighting looked like framed cones of yellow/orange, almost like they were mapped by translucent felt, they stood out from the background like a 3D model, almost like an art project everything was so well fuzzy defined, fuzzy, yes, that would be the best word to accommodate what I was perceiving, although my sight had perfect clarity the world seemed wrapped in fuzzy, on second thought that sounds so non literary, so with a quick search I find one of those cool shiny proper words… “velutinous“, ah, yes, that smacks of upper crust verbiage heritage if I ever spied such a word

close up colors detail fabric
Photo by Engin Akyurt on

“all about me the world looked velutinous…”

like driving through a dream, every light of every stripe, color, size was captured in cylinders, cones and corridors, I was not the only car on the road but was left unaware of others as I drifted along this inter-bay pathway to my humble door, I thought to myself “can words even describe this properly?”… doubting the very nature of my craft, I felt the impulse to go for my phone and the ever-camera tethered to same, but alas, the lens is not the aperture of my eye and while the phone’s eye will probably be more truthful to your eyes, it will not be what I see from mine. My thoughts in turn eat time like popcorn at so much a carnival, and before I know it I am on the Verrazano, crossing the narrows (although they seem pretty wide from this vantage point), into Staten Island, and then home to my glorious garden state, where sam (the dog) was waiting, blissfully unaware of the magical surreal setting, of the frozen pictures of lights hanging in the humid night, tail wagging, she pees on my irises… oh the dog’s life…

music? as if I had a choice (I am a child of the 80s damnit)…

Beastie Boys – No Sleep Till Brooklyn

thoughts, comments, questions and general maladies are all appreciated, as is your time, you have my thanks (I just made a nice gesture with my hands toward you, sure, you can’t see it but I did it just the same)

Traffic Spotting… (a curious way to spend a lunch break)

Traffic Spotting… (a curious way to spend a lunch break)

selective focus photography of cars
Photo by Aayush Srivastava on

work was getting to me, my usual brick and mortar exterior was showing cracks, is this Monday? which is even a worse thought when it is not, but then you think “well, one day closer to the end of the week then”, which holds your hope over for about four seconds before returning to the pounding pace, the check in stamping work clock ticking just above your right shoulder, ever closer, sure, you flick your head around and it retreats to where it actually is, but that sneaky bastard just keeps ticking and mocking you just the same, the phone, I swear they work in tandem, tick – ringinging – tick – ringinging – tick – ringinging, is anyone going to answer that goddamn phone? and half the time it is one of my technicians calling.  I believe it was jesus who said that you if you teach a man to fish he will eat all year, or something to that effect, well, I have taught some of my technicians to fish… but they wind up casting their lines in parking lot puddles, and I assure you the catch there is certainly not edible, nor is their ineptitude understandable or put-able on a day like today, in between thunderclaps of the boss’ pages, I decide to dash for the door, even a dreary wannabe rain day beats the inside of this joint today, I think of braveheart as my inner soul screams “F R E E D O M!!!!!”

building buildings closed clouds
Photo by Pixabay on

Ah, lovely suburban Hackensack New Jersey, a collection of non de-script homes nestled ‘tween aged industrial buildings of little or none architectural flair (a true monument to utilitarianism boredom), the gleaming, bustling highway route 80 off to my left (scene of the morning crawl), the effervescent Hackensack river one block behind me (nothing can live in the water it is so utterly polluted), the once black mulch adorning the sides of the walkway with lovely petals of newport and marlboro scattered about, ah, this is my refuge from that cubicle of torture (even though it is a not a cubicle, I might actually prefer the semi-privacy granted by such walls), I need to catch my breath and shake off the ox plow of the day, what better way than to amuse myself with the viciousness of local traffic, I swear I saw fangs bared (I could be mistaken), but the strict adherence to subtle traffic common law does bring out the beast in people, take more than two seconds at a light? you will get a rather subtle reminder from the courteous traveler behind you, sometimes even shouting encouraging words such as “move it moron” or “what the f’ is wrong with you, you stupid piece of s*!”, who on god’s good green earth would dare question the civility and harmony of humanity in times such as these? I was also unaware that the stretch of local road outside was an honorary speed race track (I think it is christened Chuck Yeager memorial or something), and off they go in all sorts of various vehicles gunning it down the street to some unknown checkered flag, all to my amusement, there are lights every 100 or so feet as you approach downtown, and the courthouse as well, oh well, these brave pioneers know better than I, I am not sure if I witness the death of courtesy or both sides being, well, complete friggin jerkoffs, my neighbor across the way, this sort of blair witch house thing, that has been through (barely) many floods, and certainly even more occupants, not sure which has done more damage but both wind up leaving various furniture and objects at the curb in their wake, but back to the traffic at hand, my neighbor whom I do not know (we office types do not mix with the ‘residentials’, it is forbidden or to say it with more panache – ‘verboten’), he decides to just back right up into the street with nary a pause, well, Mr J Lexus was having none of that I tell you, I mean I get it, I truly do, being the first to sit at a red light is quite the high honor, but it was hard for me to decide who was more in the wrong here, technically ‘we-be-jammin-can’t-see-through-the-night-tinted-glass-Lexus-man’ had the right of way, he clearly demonstrated this with a light tap on his horn that lasted nearly ten seconds, I could not hear the verbal gems he hurled at my poor lonely neighbor, who incidentally took this verbal assault to simply back up right into the road and force a sudden stop of a different car (one of lower standard in the caste system than Sir Lexus the Great), I can’t tell you how much this whole scene amused me, and I think I got a couple of death stares in my general direction, but I felt safe with the door to my office within grasping distance of my big white rear in case a hasty retreat was needed, so I filled my lungs with the filthy air of industry, racing cars for no reason, the highway fumes floating down like smog mana from heaven, and I was revived…can I get an Amen (cough * cough *)… but I must admit I felt refreshed, revitalized, ready to put on my invisible armor and march back in there to the battle that can not be won, but I struggle on, with renewed vigor, renewed belief in the goodness of man!

Epilogue: As fate laughs, down at me, as fate would have it, this very night, driving home (as I tend to do), I get off my normal exit on the GSP, no biggie, I make the usual turn onto Magnolia (glad there is no train arriving @ Metropark), and WHAM… a livery vehicle in front of me (that’s a fancy taxi to the uninitiated), said livery vehicle proceeds to race ahead at 10-15 mph in front of me… honestly at this point I could have turned into a traffic madman like I expounded about in this post, but alas, I just laughed at the utter irony of it all (being I wrote all this today), and let the jackass behind me do all the road rage-y stuff for me, you know, the swerving, the lights, the horn, this just amused me more and more, local street, double yellow line (no passing), so I just bided my time and livery guy made a left, “good luck” I thought to those behind, poor bastards. (and heck, it doesn’t hurt to have some good tunes to take the old edge off, I must admit).

music?   Silly fun rock…

Scatterbrain – Down with the Ship

silly but performed so well, can you recognize all the songs and riffs (so many classics in there) ? ? ? ? and with that I sign off my friends, as always, all eyes, loose eyeballs, looks, half looks, stink eyes, and other none such… are… well appreciated. tell your friends, ego has a blog, and this is it…

road rage, the death penalty and waiting in line @ the grocery store

road rage, the death penalty and waiting in line @ the grocery store

grocery cart with item
Photo by Oleg Magni on

point one, I was enjoying a rather common evening picking up a few items at the local supermarket (Wegmans, and I love the damn place), so being that I had just over 7 items and less than 15 I was relegated to the 15 or less lane (seems obvious), I generally pride myself in keeping my cool and apparently I was about to be put through the gauntlet of said pride, as luck, fate, or damn circumstance would have it, the gentleman (and I am stretching the word here) in front of me had way more than the appointed 15 items, that in itself is enough for a force-able slap across the face, but I showed restraint, point two, the cashier did not admonish this monster of the shop-way in any way shape or form, I train cashiers, or well used to at work and I always made that a point of emphasis, are these people actively f’ng with me ? (I think to myself, where is kutcher? but that show is long gone, bad reference on my part) So I relegate to swallow my growing, throbbing rage and think of better days, “hey, what is the outcome here if I confront this unspeakable evil?”, so I regress to pretend interest in the candies and periodicals lining the grocery runway toward the cashier, all the while trying to hide my side stink eye at the thorn sticking so sorely in my side, THREE! the cashier moved at a glacial pace, and also did not know her produce codes, inside baseball here THE CODES ARE ON THE STICKERS!!!! ARRRGHGGGHGGH!!! I am surprised I am not vibrating out of my shoes at this point, but I tap myself on the shoulder (figuratively now, otherwise that would be weird), and I pause and decide against any action as any outcome will not be just worth it, I just need to hold on and let the storm pass, FOUR… finally, I mean finally, the order is scanned and bagged, but is my ordeal done? oh nelly no no, not a chance in this hell I was getting out that easy, not only did gentleman “x” bring a party to the one person line he decides to finalize the transaction in slow order, FIVE… shopper loyalty card, does he have a swipe-able one ? nah… are you kidding? he pulls out a key ring that would make Tolkien drool, with a key fob for every store to perhaps inhabit a 100 mile radius of this place for the past three decades (or more), so one by one like the dewey decimal hell of my youth he goes through them, would it be in the first 20 flop ? of course not… I think I am out of my body at this point looking down upon the scene as my soul wants to depart this world, finally… and I mean finally finally (as my eyes seer) he finds the right card, ok… we’re good, oh wait, oh shit, this goddamn m-f’r has not even paid yet… if he pays in change, that’s f’n it, I have rights dammit, people have been killed for lesser transgressions, SIX…SIX…SIX… pick up sticks to beat this person with… just put your damn credit/debit card in the slot already, you could have done this AT ANY TIME during the transaction!! AHHHHH!!!! (admittedly it is worse for me because as this is my industry I know how the payment system works… you can slide/dip your card whenever people!!! do it early and often!)… I am almost broken at this point, having held off this raging beast inside so long the cage that is my brain is exhausted and… damn logic, there is no good outcome from confrontation here, I just have to eat it, and not enjoy it (this gentleman has no idea how close I was to losing it). Was this 5 minutes or an hour? I don’t know if I could testify to the facts after that. So please… when you are in line, do what you can to speed things along, the life you save… may be your own. (and the chipotle corn cakes turned out to be worth the wait, I hate to admit)

Sometimes things work out the way they should…

Sometimes things work out the way they should…


Latin Irony… at my local Wegman’s (the most awesome-ist supermarket) I peered across the parking lot, and instead of just noting the irony to myself, I stopped, to share it with you, I can only imagine the thoughts of those in their cars as to why this nutbar was standing in the middle of the parking lot (literally) taking photos of such a banal suburban scene in less than 30 degrees, but only if they read my blog (like every good person should) they might understand…

photo of starry night
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on

music (to perhaps meditate to, whatever meditation means to you) ?  I have been into this the past few days, I admittedly have an ambient bone to pick and love the soothing electronica it provides (I must admit I missed this band in the past, my bad but damn they, the duo are great)…

Carbon Based Lifeforms – The Path (full album)

and as always, thanks for the look, the eyes, the time, all comments are appreciated, as well as local restaurant suggestions (I can’t complain though, really, how many towns have genuine thai, vietnamese, north and south indian, sri lankan and all the usual jersey fare – hello, awesome pizza?!?! and bagels), but I am always open to suggestions !