Yesterday afternoon, after I hung up my blogging hat for the day (it's a special hat which only I can see), I walked around with my crappy Sanyo cell phone camera taking pictures of things. Now, I bring you some of those things.
As I've sort of mentioned before, the 200,000 square foot building I'm sitting in is called the Farley Post Office on days when Republicans are not convening across the street. On days when they are, it's known as the Farley Media Center or Farley Building. But that doesn't mean you can't still tell it's a post office. First, there are signs that say "Post Office." But there's also fun signs like this one:

If you can't read that, it says:
- INSTRUCTIONS on USE of RING TYPE KNIFE
1. Wear only when actually engaged in work that requires cutting of string.
2. Never wear knife on palm side.
3. Return to desk whenever turning to other work not requiring cutting.
4. Never leave loose in pocket.
Interesting. Less interesting but appearing here nonetheless is something that may be called Newspaper Alley:

So far as I know, it's not called anything. This is only about half of it; every newspaper, magazine and newsletter here distributes their wares along this row of bins.
Here's a very inadequte picture of the restaurant:

It's run by someone named Mitchel London, the chef at the Fairway Steakhouse on the Upper West Side, about whom I know next to nothing except the food available here tends toward Frenchiness (come on, this is the GOP convention! The host committee would have done better to bring in barbecue). What I do know is that his promotions department has positioned him as cleverer-than-thou, and it's annoying. Here's the partial text from a coupon for a free glass of wine:
- "Generous" is not the first word that springs to mind when one is asked to describe the irascible food genius Mitchel London. All we can figure is maybe he's concerned about his place in history, "curmudgeon", [sic] is not how he'd like to be remembered. Whatever, here's the deal:
Blah blah, free wine. I should note, the phrase "irascible food genius" appears on a sign in the restaurant area as well. I don't care how smart he is, I just don't understand what he's got against minorites.
Let's move along:
I'm not kidding about the 200,000 square feet -- this place is huge, and with all the makeshift work spaces divided by eight foot curtains, it has the feel of a teenage giant's rat maze. Considering the city and profession at hand, that's fitting. Down in the basement is a rather large room just off the loading docks where all of the networks feed their, er, feeds through before slicing and dicing on expensive equipment and throwing it at your cable provider's satellite. And this does all look fairly expensive:

I saw all this while looking for the security entrance to Madison Square Garden itself. When I found it, I found out my press pass was of the wrong type for admission to the MSG itself. Supposedly I can get in after 4 p.m. today, and you can be sure I'll try. My hopes of seeing where Godzilla supposedly gave birth to velociraptors in 1998 dashed for now, I went streetside.
This was clearly a mistake.

24 hours before this shot was taken, the intersection pictured was overrun by angry left rabblerousers who torched a dragon float (the symbolism escapes me too) and landed at least one NYPD officer in the hospital. Eventually, obviously, the police reasserted control and were carefully (read: tediously) managing traffics of both the axle/wheel and biped/foot variety. They achieved this in part by trapping passersby on the corners every few minutes to allow cars through.

Here's that orange net. You can't tell from here, but I'm behind another orange net. I think I waited here about five minutes here; at least the protesters actually moved.
After relaxing at the hotel for awhile, I decided to find out what would happen if I hopped on the subway and just started riding it. The experiment didn't last too long, because the first stop was Union Square, where I had heard protests would be taking place (Mayor Bloomberg was afraid they'd mess up the Great Lawn). Yet when I came up topside, there really weren't that many people. Mostly they were taking turns standing on a small platform (possibly a soapbox, but I didn't look closely) and reciting typical frustrated leftist pap. 'I'm so scared to death of living in this police state run by a fascist Republican racist homophobic unelected boy king idiot thief...' To my knowledge that's not an exact quote, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was.


So I watched a bit more, grabbed a turkey sandwich at a nearby bodega, then hopped a cab to the Strand. I can proudly report, something like eight Strands could fit into Powell's back in Portland. The one thing we still have on the West Coast is extra space. I bought a few books while there, including a used first edition of Jacques Barzun's "From Dawn to Decadence." For the uninitiated, Barzun is a historian and possibly the only Frenchman conservatives like. The book is a detailed history/polemic on the last 500 years of Western civilization; he sees plenty of decadence. So did I, while wandering around town:

This is not one of the larger piles of trash bags and cardboard boxes I saw in the East Village, but it should give you the general idea. Nothing could really top this, so I decided it was time to head back. The good news is I can expense unlimited taxis. But the bad news is it's physically impossible for me to ride in "unlimited taxis." Maybe tomorrow I'll just hop in a taxi around noon and take in the tri-state area.
The rest of the evening was spent at the hotel bar with my co-workers, soaking in whiskey and schadenfreude. Then it was upstairs to see McCain and Giuliani speak, about which more later. But right now, I need a nap. (For the record: 2 hours sleep last night plus a one-hour nap on a not-as-comfortable-as-it-looks sofa in front of the TVs in my company's work space.)
Besides, this post was really getting out of hand.

One of the more common but less comprehensible anti-Bush slogans of the past few months is "Bushit." (It's almost everywhere here.) Whatever it means, it doesn't seem to be in the dictionary. Perhaps its an anagram -- "Hub Sit"? Well, that would have made more sense if this convention was in Boston. Or "Hi Bust"? Could be a friendly salutation to a failed president; that or they have sex on the brain Maybe I'm looking too hard -- it could be "Bus Hit." Which is a tad worrisome -- maybe the protesters really are on the side of the terrorists. Or maybe it's like "Push It"? Like, out of office? Or maybe they mean "Bush is it," like The Strokes album.
A few blocks away signs are being waved, fires are being set and the Bush administration is being denounced by thousands. So why would I be here in the press center when all the real news is out in the streets? Easy -- I have to work today. And working I am, at least intermittently. But I've been here all day, under fluorescents, drinking water cooler water, watching people from my company whom I've never seen before walk by, sorting through stacks of papers, reading to pass the time. And, nursing a hangover.



This would be my third trip to New York City in as many years, and so far it's shaping up to be like the others: crowded, sweltering, pungent and distracting. DC may be a full-fledged major metropolis with everything but the baseball team (don't remind them) but five minutes in Manhattan will make Dupont Circle feel like 17th century Jamestown.
By now you've heard about
myself to another Dr. Pepper. I've always wanted to walk across Manhattan from the East River to the Hudson. So have I also wanted to walk the circumference of Central Park. But the chances are good I'll just wander around the neighborhood here. If I can soak up some culture without taking any shrapnel, I'll be a happy journalist.
Am I back from vacation already? No! But the good news is that I will be back from hiatus a bit sooner than I first thought. As I understand it now, I will have Internet access inside the secure zone in New York City, so blogging from the convention will be possible. Assuming that's correct, I would be failing in my obligations as a reporter/blogger by not bringing you, dear reader, along with me. (As if I'm not already shirking my blog duties right now.)
Really, how does this site manage to get 60 hits or so a day, weeks after my last posting? Must be those of you who surf in via Google or from another blog. Well, thanks for stopping in. I'm back in the District again now, albeit not for too long. I still plan to be busy throughout the rest of August, which means blogging will keep up its current pace of one post every two weeks -- if I have the time. And I don't. But if anything changes, you know where to find me.
You would think the
A few days ago I linked to
Today Variety reports -- here's a
Is this blog actually about to beat Illinois Senate-watcher
Here's John Kerry in his
Up till now
