Tuesday, December 26, 2017
It was a rotten spring, an interesting summer, a pretty good fall, an excellent December, and a near-perfect Christmas. Something is due to go wrong again any minute, but for now we're going to eat, drink, play, sing, hug, smile, and call it a win.
Friday, December 22, 2017
We finished the photo shoot yesterday afternoon. I made the composite pic yesterday evening, then wrote the newsletter last night until 2am.
I procrastinate, but I can hit a deadline.
Newsletter is here: TarpStreetJournal.com
More about the photo here.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
I flew to Grand Cayman for a job interview.
This is the airport.
This is downtown.
I learned to drive on the left side of the road.
This is the ocean.
This is me in the hot tub...by myself...but...still.
I got the job. (I'll be based in NYC.)
I got the final layouts for How to Become a Knight, and the final cover art for Three Grumpy Trucks. Can't show either yet.
I had a great weekend back in NYC, including dinner at home on Friday night, a trip to Chinatown on Saturday (including trying sesame-flavored ice cream--not bad), and a cold run in the park today to make me realize I'm not in Cayman any more.
I'm picking up Samuel from college on Tuesday, and we're going to close out 2017 on a high note.
Sunday, December 10, 2017
We met for BBQ in Greenwich Village. She has a heart that could melt a glacier, and every time she smiles at me I believe the world is good.
After dinner we walked the streets of Greenwich Village in the cold December air, past the sex shops and tattoo parlors and pizza-by-the-slice joints. An indie film theater was showing "It's a Wonderful Life." It started in ten minutes.
For the next two hours we sat next to each other in the darkness, holding hands, and watched a story about the importance of being grateful for all that we've been given.
When the lights finally came back up, she squeezed my hand and smiled, and I wanted to lasso the moon for her.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
I'm not bragging, but the luxury condo at the end of the block has wilted flowers in its planters. Meanwhile, 139 is all dressed up for the holidays. (And, yes, we say "holidays" on the Upper West Side because we don't believe religion is a competition.)
Last night I strung the lights with the help of the little girls from upstairs.
They helped by unwinding the strands and testing them like jump ropes.
All strands passed the jump rope test.
I had one strand left, so I brought it inside and put it on our own little Christmas tree. (Yes, we do call it a Christmas tree, even on the Upper West Side.)
We are ready for some holiday love and cheer.
Monday, December 4, 2017
The other day when I was checking out Books of Wonder's new West 84th Street location, I remembered that this was the block where Edgar Allan Poe wrote "The Raven" in the 1840s.
There's an excellent post at manhattanpast.com that lays out the evidence for where the farmhouse was located. Suffice it to say that when the city laid out West 84th Street, they sliced right through the hillside, creating the odd effect of the house on a bluff. (It was more of a rolling hillside when Poe lived there.)
My contribution is the photo of what it looks like now.
The farmhouse was eventually razed and the hillside flattened, almost certainly to make way for the turn-of-the-century buildings that currently occupy the spot. A movie theater now occupies the space to the right, where the stairs were.
It's a bit mind-blowing, isn't it?
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Friday, December 1, 2017
Books of Wonder just opened a new store on West 84th...half a block from West Side Kids, two blocks from Barnes & Noble, five blocks from Book Culture, twenty from Bank Street Bookstore. The Upper West Side is nutty like that.
I stopped by today to check it out. (The first thing I did was see if they had any of my books. Duh.) I left with a new picture book, which I seem to do every time I go to a children's bookstore. It feels good to buy a picture book. It's like opioid addiction, but healthier.
It makes me smile to know that I live in a neighborhood with little pockets of magic and stardust that quietly coexist with the Duane Reades and Chases and Starbucks. Nothing against corporations. But you don't see toddlers crawling the floors of Duane Reade, and Chase doesn't make you feel like the world is inherently wonderful.
Thumbs up for Books of Wonder. Thumbs up for children's bookstores, and children's books, and children.
(And before anyone gets a lump in their throat, yes, I'm going to deduct the book purchase on my taxes.)