Very few pop music performances of the 21st century give me goosebumps. This is a delightful exception.
Here’s kd lang performing Joni Mitchell’s “Help Me” live in 2000. I hope you feel the goosebumps as well.
September 2016
I Love NY. This Space For Rent.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a fan of advertising. Not only do I not like advertising, I actually despise it. I realize that in today’s economy advertising is basically what keeps the United States afloat, but I think that we, the public, are better than dancing purple pills, people screaming “Huuuuuuuuuge”, men that call themselves Crazy Eddie and long lists of side effects that usually include “explosive diarrhea”, even though the medicine being hawked is suppose to make us feel better.
New York State Governor Cuomo (I like to call him “King Andy”) looked around The Empire State, realized the economy was not doing well and decided to fix the situation by inviting tourists to come take a look at all New York State has to offer. He recently launched a $25 million ad campaign that involves celebrities saying how much they love New York and more importantly, signs telling everyone how lovely New York State can be.
Signs, signs, everywhere are signs.
Usually when one crosses a state border they are greeted by a sign of some sort welcoming them to the state they have just entered. “Welcome to Connecticut, Full of Surprises”. “Welcome To Pennsylvania, State of Independence.”
Crossing into New York State you are now greeted with a succession of FIVE welcome signs. But that is only the beginning of the frivolity, as the state border is not the only place you can enter the Empire State.
You’ll see the same five signs coming out of the airport as you try to figure out how your rental car works.
You’ll see the same five signs if you’re leaving the New York State Fairgrounds.
You’ll see the same five signs if you’re entering the New York State Fairgrounds.
You’ll see the same five signs if you’ve traveled more than 30 miles on the New York State Thruway.
You’ll see the same five signs in the geographic center of the state.
You get my point.
Yes, there are signs 200 miles from the closest state border welcoming you to New York State. Over one third of the bridges might be structurally deficient, we might have the only interstate exits in the country that are still numbered sequentially (for example, 20-21-21B-21A-22), you might lose a wheel or two in one of the wide selection of potholes we offer in any given mile, but by god, we have signs welcoming you to the Empire State.
Think I’m kidding? Here’s some screen caps of the signs, 260 miles from the state border.
Monotonous, ain’t it?
Please note that all the signs are encouraging you to download the ILoveNY app, apparently while you’re driving. At the very least, visit the website. Never mind that we spent a million or two a few years ago renaming all the Rest Areas to Text Stops (with more signs counting down the miles to the next “Text Stop”). Oh! And speaking of advertising, all of our
With more signs advertising this fact.
To keep with the theme of banging motorists over the head with advertising, there are now miniature versions of these signs mounted to the toll booths as you enter the New York State Thruway.
I was especially disheartened to see these new toll booth advertisements because I was kind of proud of the fact that we didn’t pimp out toll booth space for advertising like the surrounding states did. But apparently what’s good for the goose is good for the gander or the very least to get my dander up.
I wouldn’t be nearly as bothered by all these signs (and the money associated with them) if they were installed and left as is, but apparently they did please the aesthetic sensibilities of someone and they have been moved around (by a mile or two), replaced (because the color was off in the original version) and re-angled in relation to the roadway on the weekend, in the dark of night, during prime overtime hours. Driving home from a late flight into Syracuse on multiple occasions in the past couple of weeks I saw the crews installing, uninstalling and such under the cover of darkness.
Advertising is in it’s prime. In glorious overtime. I Love New York. Sigh.
Flight 93.
I hadn’t planned on writing two blog entries on this 15th anniversary of 9/11, but this evening I spent some time listening to the ATC tapes from that day. As a relatively new pilot, this was the first time that I had listened to the Air Traffic Control recordings and had an appreciation for what was really going on with ATC that day.
I made it through a lot of the recordings (they’re available on YouTube) until I got to the recordings of United Flight 93, which ultimately crashed near Somerset, Pa. as a result of the actions and reactions of the crew and passengers of that flight. It was then that the tears flowed when it was apparent, even on the recordings, that the crew and passengers had made a purposeful decision to not allow United 93 to get to the diverted destination. The crew on the flight deck, knowing their fate, had apparently made the conscious decision to put that airliner on auto pilot and switch the radio so that it would default to external transmissions (instead of the intercom for the passengers). This is why ATC and other aircraft in the area was hearing about the bomb and the fake announcements the hijackers thought they were making to the passengers.
All of this is common knowledge today. But still hearing those transmissions, coupled with knowing what the courageous crew and passengers did to prevent the airliner from making its intended target, brought me to tears this evening.
In 2002 Earl and I visited what was at that time a very makeshift memorial to United Flight 93 near Somerset, Pa. I remember seeing the chain link fence covered in mementos and seeing these two memorials at the site.
I hope that if I am ever in a similar situation that I will have the courage that the crew and passengers of United Flight 93 exhibited that day.
United.
I tried to find a fitting photo to place at the beginning of this blog entry but nothing moved me enough to include it here.
This blog had only a handful of entries when the events of 9/11/01 took place. I remember being too stunned to write about the day. Too depressed. Too confused. I hastily wrote an entry on the morning of 9/12. It’s posted here.
I can vividly remember the events of the day: the wave of “there has been a disturbance in the force” I felt as I rode the elevator up to the 16th floor of a local bank building, where my office was located. Earl calling me a couple of minutes later and telling me an airplane had hit the World Trade Center. Walking into the office and going to one of the production studios, where a television had just been tuned in using rabbit ears. We watched ABC because that’s all we could get in on the tiny TV. A bunch of us watched live on television when the second airliner hit. I remember feeling nauseated. When the first tower fell to the ground I remember feeling nauseated to the point that I made my way near the garbage can. Three thoughts ran through my head: “oh my God, all those people”, “oh my God, don’t puke here” and the last one was the loudest.
The world I know is gone forever. The country we know is gone forever.
There were so many displays of unity in those days after 9/11. Politicians singing together instead of arguing at each other. Elected officials setting aside their differences to keep the country back on track. People were working together, not drifting apart.
But then, well, time happened. The United States adapted, the populace accepted significant infringements on personal freedom as the new norm, technology moved on and we adapted to our new normal. By the mid 2000s, the moments of unity had faded away and we were back to the world of divisiveness with a renewed intensity. Blame those that look differently. Blame those that act differently. Diversity is dangerous.
Gosh how I miss that feeling of unity we had shortly after the 9/11 attacks. Neighbors helping each other. Strangers helping strangers. Looking out for one another instead of looking askance at those that seem different. Courage instead of fear. Defiance in the face of destruction.
We now live in a country where a balloon pops and people scramble for their lives. A simple power outage happens in a public place and there’s shrieking and screaming and other sounds of fear. It’s like we’ve had 9/11 PTSD beat into us by the politicians and the media that once united together. We were on the right track there for a little while and then, well, fear sold better. Agendas were furthered when people were scared.
I ended up not having to use that garbage pail on 9/11 as I kept my cookies together. It’s a shame that the world changed forever the way it changed forever.
I finally settled on a photo. Two sets of power lines marching across parking lots. Two towers standing in unity together.
Keep Right Except To Pass.
To all you folks that stay in the left lane not passing anyone even though you’re doing the speed limit, you’re a major part of the problem leading to the higher accident rates in the United States.
Mid Century Modern.
Earl and I have pretty much decided that when Earl retires in a year or two, we’ll be moving to a smaller house elsewhere. I think I have him talked into looking for a Mid-Century Modern home when we go house hunting. I would really like something like this:
There’s little doubt that my love for this style of home was inspired by my grandparents house, built in 1959. When my grandfather died in 2005, the house was sold by the estate. A man purchased the farm to convert it to a hunting camp of sorts. The house has seen better days.
A late 1950s ranch would fit the bill perfectly. I’d love to have 1950s touches like a central vacuum system, an intercom system, a kitchen with the oven built into a a brick chimney, lots of light, windows high and windows low, etc.
I will be very a happy man when this dream comes true.
Caution.
Earl and I live less than a 1/2 mile from a set of railroad tracks leading up into the Adirondacks. In fact, the main purpose of the railroad tracks is for the Adirondack Railroad, a passenger train that makes its way up into the Southern Adirondacks at key times of the year. The train is most popular during the autumn months while the leaves are in all their vibrant color glory.
When I was learning to drive in the early 1980s, not all railroad crossings had lights and gates to block crossing traffic when a train was coming through. In fact, these safety measures were a rarity; crossings in the area usually just had a sign on either side. When approaching the railroad tracks one had to slow down and look both ways because there was no other indication of an approaching train. This apparently led to too many accidents and someone in New York State decreed that all railroad crossings with have arms and lights.
While I was on my morning walk, I noticed that motorists rarely even slow down for railroad crossings these days. Unless the crossing is particular bumpy, folks will drive across the tracks at full speed without a moment’s hesitation. I don’t think folks even stop talking on their cell phones, shaving or putting on makeup, they just barrel across somewhere near the posted speed without giving it a moment’s thought.
When driving home I always slow down by 10 miles per hour or so and look both ways before crossing the tracks, probably because I can still vividly remember the days when there were no lights nor gates.
I don’t think folks should be putting 100% of their faith in safety in these electric gadgets. It doesn’t seem unreasonable for people to slow down, even just a little bit, to make sure it’s safe to cross the crossing regardless of what the gates or lights might be doing. Who knows, there could be a malfunction, the power could be out, something could prevent those lights and gates from being a tell-tale sign as to whether it’s safe to cross or not.
I guess I’m a dying breed that clings on to common sense much like lint clings onto your socks in the dryer. At least I’ll live a long time to talk about it.
Friends.
Earl and I spent two hours on Interstate 690 waiting to get a parking space for The Great New York State Fair today. Prior to this fair, the state spent $50 million in renovations to the over a century old fairgrounds. Apparently part of the enhancements did not include improvements to parking, in fact, I think there are less parking spaces available because in the over 40 years that I’ve been to the Fair I can not recall ever waiting two hours to find a parking spot.
This was our second adventure at this year’s Fair, which by the way, is the largest State Fair in the United States. On Friday night we visited the outdoor exhibits and the midway. Today we visited the barns and other indoor displays. And as always, I loved every minute of seeing the animals, talking to them and asking them about their adventure at the fair.
Ride.
This is not us. This is a screen cap of the New York State Thruway near Rochester in the late 1950s.
Earl and I are out on a ride in the Jeep today. We both have been going a hundred miles an hour for work for the past couple of weeks, so I decided we need to spend some time alone, disconnected from reality a little bit and just relaxing. Instead of sitting in front of the television and watching whatever that is spewing out these days, we are in the midst of a Jeep ride in the Finger Lakes Region. At this moment we are parked at a Starbucks having a quick iced tea before continuing our journey.
They did not have Starbucks back in the late 1950s.
Our ride is comprised of all two-lane roads. We are avoiding toll roads, expressways, freeways and thruways on this jaunt. We had a simple lunch at one of our popular haunts, a family restaurant called Mimi’s. I had a BLT and Earl had corned beef on rye. Quick, cheap and delicious, just the way we like it.
Riding around and seeing that some leaves are just starting to change into their autumn glory is a reminder that summer is coming to an end. I’m not particularly bothered by this right now as Autumn is my favorite season of the year. I’m determined to remain upbeat and positive as we approach the winter months. This would be a nice change of pace for my 40s.
I’m probably going to write a separate blog entry about the video that provided the screen grab I included above. One of my daydreams during this ride is whether the late 1950s was a simpler time in general for the average person or if we only portrayed it to be that way.
