shoe scam

About two weeks ago, my friend Brian came into town for his debut performance at Lincoln Center. He was one of the soloists for The Destruction of Jerusalem, an oratorio by Ferdinand Hiller, played by the American Symphony Orchestra. It was the American debut as well. Kind of a big deal. (Brian did fabulously, by the way. His aria and duet were absolutely beautiful! So proud was I.) Anyway, lucky for me I not only got to see his fabulous performance, but I also got to spend a little time with him. One night we were on our way to dinner and a man stopped us. (We always get approached by someone asking for money when we are together. It happened last time he came here for auditions too.) Anyway, we are not good at saying no and always end up stopping.

This man didn't ask for money outright, however. He wanted to "earn" his keep and tried to engage us in a little game. He told us that he could tell us where we got our shoes...the city, state, zip, etc. If he got it right, we would give him $5, if he got it wrong, he would give us $5. He started to ask us questions about ourselves and then reiterated the original offer. Brian consented and then he started to move in on me. Thank goodness Brian interjected and told him that he should just play this game with him!

In my mind, there was NO WAY that he would be able to guess where Brian got his shoes no matter how many questions he asked. Did he know that Brian and his family travel the world? Did he know that Brian lives on the other side of the country? No. He knew none of this and yet he claimed that he could guess where Brian got his shoes.

The big moment came and we were eagerly waiting his answer. "You wanna know where you GOT those shoes?" he asked. "Look down." And there they were. They were on Brian's feet just where they had always been. And that is how we got scammed by a very clever man on 94th and Broadway.

rush hour

So if you have ever been in rush hour in the city, you will know that it is not a time to play around. No dilly-dallying allowed. You need to know where you are going and you need to get there fast. You are, of course, polite and courteous, but you follow the rules. Yes, they may be unwritten, but they are rules just the same.

Anyway, usually I am really good about navigating my way through masses of rushed and confused people. You just kind of get in the zone. But the other day, something caught my eye and put me into a completely different one.

I was stepping off the train and right there before my eyes was a group of probably 7 or 8 men dressed in beautiful suits. Oh, sorry, did I say beautiful suits? They were beautiful but so were the men in those suits. Or maybe I'm just a sucker for men in suits? Or maybe I'm just a sucker for men. Either way, I was happy to be there in that very moment. Unfortunately for me though, I forgot where I was, where I was going, and that it was rush hour in one of the busiest spots in the city....Times Square. It was a little debilitating, to tell you the truth. I think that I couldn't move for a good 30 seconds or so. I came away feeling confused about my surroundings and a little ashamed that I let something so silly distract me from my normal routine.

What can I say? I just LOVE men!

i've always wanted to be a hacker

So I've always wanted to be a hacker. (Dear FBI: I don't really want to be a hacker. I wish NO harm to anyone or anything. I just wish my brain was sophisticated enough to be able to do something like that.) Why, you might ask? Perhaps it is because I have seem too many movies where those types of skills are the key to a happy ending. The little girl in Jurassic Park was able to lock the doors because she knew a lot about computers. The guy in Die Hard (the last one made) was able to defeat the firewall because he had the smarts...or am I remembering that movie correctly? Anyway, the list could go on and on. I would just love to be able to say that I have the capability of saving some small town or even the nation because of what I can do on the computer. That being said, I don't really know if I am cut out for that line of work.

For the last little while my laptop at home, indeed the very one that I am typing on right now, has had this problem with the screen. For some reason the font is HUGE! I have tried so many times to figure out what is wrong and how to shrink it down to normal. You would think that you would just need to go to View or Edit at the top of the screen and adjust the size there, or that maybe you would go to the control panel and fix it all there. But no. I must have hit something in just the perfect sequence so as to prevent me from returning to normal land. Quite upsetting. I guess I am not cut out to be a master mind in the world of computers.

that's my name, that's my name

I heard this funny story the other night and thought I would pass it along. Now that I think of it, I can’t really remember if it was a true story witnessed by my friend, if the story was simply passed along, or if it was something found in a magazine. To the person that relayed this to me, I’m sorry if I totally mess it up or embellish it with details that didn’t actually happen. J

A mother and daughter were in Macy’s at the makeup counter. The little girl was standing in front of the display cases pointing her little finger at various, items all the while saying, “That’s my name. That’s my name. That’s my name. That’s my name.” Then her mother calls to her, “Clinique (said Clinique-wuh), come on, let’s go!”

End story.