Showing posts from August 12, 2007

Downward dog days in NYC

A downward dog with a building up your butt? That's Yoga at Bryant's Park.

When I travel I try to pretend I've been in the place I'm visiting for years. That is, rather than rush about seeing sights, I try to do normal things that I or anyone else would do at home. Like eat, sleep, work, buy groceries. I might take in a museum or show or two, but I don't run around with this great long list and a Fodor's duct-taped to my chest. In fact, I don't run around at all. I've been known to spend days indoors in the heart of a NYC summer, the MOMA, Met, Cooper Hewitt, and Century 21 clothing store beckoning, glued to my laptop.

What's the fun in that, I hear you ask?

In this way, I don't get so much of that 'gotta tear myself away' angst and 'get back to real life' letdown when my stay comes to an end. This *is* real life. Or as a friend put it, 'This is not a holiday, this is my life.'

So my attending a free yoga class in the midd…

Plinkety plunk ... a 45th birthday impulse buy

I just visited the famous Mandolin Bros fretted instrument shop on Staten Island, NY.

Mandolin Bros, owner Stan May (left), the Gal with a Guild, and ever patient sales expert Dennis Ryan.

And came out with something a transglobal telecommuter can neither store, stash or carry terribly easily - a brand new guitar! A bit like when I bought a giant framed Paul Alan Bennett picture for my birthday last year, which is now freeloading in a friend's dining in Oregon. As you will read there, I almost dropped $750 on a blanket too.

"Paintings and blankets, you're settling," quipped a friend.

I've never heard of Mandolin Bros until I happened to jump onto the tail of the New York Cycle Club Ride to the Staten Island Bluegrass Festival, led by a bluegrass aficionado, Mark Gelles. Take a look at Straight Drive playing on stage here.

It was a fairly long pedal, at an atypically slow NYCC pace of 12 mph, which had Hal, one of the party, champing at the cleat. For a non-NYer…