Showing posts from August 19, 2007

New York Minutes: Angela's Flying Bed - A Review

The Selfish Shellfish tell Angela like it is. Writer Karl Greenburg at the bedhead. The adventure unfurled when Angela pushed that big button with the 'X' on it. I was lucky to get this shot - a minder came up and told me not to take pictures. Even the Guggenheim now realizes that to get butts back on seats you gotta let people bottle memories with their Nikon Coolpixes! AUGUST is Fringe Festival (or off-off Broadway) month in NYC, when low (budget) life like me get to feel like one of those folks who live in Tribeca, Soho, or the upper East Side, the Upper West Side, or dammit, any which side of NYC. One of these shows I attended was Angela's Flying Bed , a 1-hour family musical staged in Bleecker Street. Now what was I, a die hard single income no kidder, doing at a PG-rated show? Well, the co-writer is none other than a Bike Friday customer, Karl Greenberg . Oh how I love to dip my toe into the diverse and quirky lives of our customers. Besides, so many of the

New York Minutes: "Excuse me, this isn't a gallery"

Another 'luxury condo' development in NYC. Note the Frank Gehry 'Bundt Cake/Jello Mold' building to the right. I got the quintessential 'you're taking up airspace, young man' treatment recently. My Chelsea architect friend is always dragging me around to hear the latest Renzo Piano concerto (you can tell I'm not an architect) but we did attempt a sneak peak at a new condo development - correction - at the sales office of the development. We hadn't gotten our Tevas much past the threshold when a 20-something toothy sales rep wafted in our direction to declare, painted nails drawn, "This is NOT a gallery." Shuffling around in our shorts on a muggy summer's day, I guess we DID look like a pair of underfunded galleristas. "I know, this is a sales office. Can we take a look around?" said my friend. She retreated momentarily. We did get to run our fingers across the seamless terazzo countertops and thumb through the th