Slowly but surely, I'm settling into my career as a bicycle courier. My knowledge of the island is growing, I only need to look at my map occasionally instead of after every assigment, and I'm getting to know which buildings have messenger centers and which don't (like IMG Models). Here are some scenes from my life. One of these days, I'll bring along my cell phone and take some pictures.

• The offices of Bob Marley Music, Inc. have a lot of Bob Marley stuff on the walls, but no smell of marijuana.
• A casual wink from a very attractive woman at a/R Media can make your day.
• Resurrection is a place I'd like to go back and check out if I wasn't in a hurry to get some of their stuff to Essence.
• Marj Dusay, a regular on CBS's Guiding Light, attended KU. I delivered a script to the doorman at her apartment.
• The other day, as I was stopped at a light on 9th Ave. in the 30s, I heard this tremendous honking. I looked over and saw this gigantic tour bus (rockstar-type tour bus, not this type of tour bus that I regularly pass on my bicycle) driving in the right lane behind a latino pushing a Sabrett's stand. Maybe the asshole behind the wheel thought he was being very New York by just laying on the horn behind this poor guy pushing the stand, but actually that is very atypical. New Yorker's know that the hot dog stands have to get to their spots somehow and if you want to avoid them, you don't drive in the right lane.

  I was so aghast that I could only stare as the bus drove past. The driver, wearing a cowboy hat, saw me staring and nodded his head in an exagerrated fashion like he was saying, "well, I showed that guy who was boss." When the hot dog guy pushed his cart by, we looked at each other and rolled our eyes. The hot dog guy said, "fucking asshole" and I responded with, "he was wearing a cowboy hat. What do you expect."

• To become a bicycle courier, you have to fill out an application and attend a morning training/safety class. After the class, they give you a radio and send you out to make deliveries. As a result, a lot of learning how to be an effective courier comes down to trial and error and the lessons of the street. Last week, I was crossing 8th Ave. when another messenger was coming up 8th. I couldn't tell whether he was going to cut in front of me or behind me, so I braked. Thrown off, by my sudden stop, he swerved behind me and yelled, "always keep it roll' nigga!"

  That's the most important lesson to learn as a bicycle courier. You don't need to burn down streets and risk your life at intersections if you play it smart and always keep it rolling.

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In the WSJ today, there was a story about how the breakup of two former Delay aides has helped the prosecution against Tom Delay. The article mentioned that one of the aides, Emily Miller, has an attorney named Dan French. I can only assume that his full name is Daniel Chester French and that he sculpted the statue in front of Lippincott Hall on Jayhawk Boulevard.

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Too many reporters have died in Iraq, so Jill Carroll's release is a rare bit of good news.

Read about Jill Carroll's life before the kidnapping.

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Having recently finished Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson -- a book about codebreaking, Nazi gold, data havens, Unix, revolution and homicidal lawyers -- I've developed a passing interest in cryptography. For example, there's Solitaire, a system mentioned in the novel that allows one to encrypt then decrypt a message using nothing more complex than a deck of cards. (Though, truth be told, I'd also need a pencil, a stack a paper and a whole lotta time.)

The Enigma machine figures heavily into the book. The German military used it during World War II to encode secret messages. The Allies broke it pretty early on. In fact, one of the characters in Cryptonomicon is charged with the task of thinking up blunders for the Allied forces to make so it would look as if they hadn't broken the code. Also, it inspired a movie.

So I'm intrigued by the BoingBoing post pointing out an Enigma machine for sale on eBay. Any of you with a spare $13,480 are welcome to make a bid on my behalf.

Make your own Enigma.

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This weekend's New York Times explores an odd little stereotype you find in the city concerning Jews and Chinese food:

IT'S a yin-yang kind of thing.

New York Jews love Chinese food because it doesn't mix meat with milk. But half an hour later we complain we're hungry.

We love Chinese food because it's nothing like what we cook at home. But we get anxious when we can't tell what it is:

"Is this gray thing pork?"

"Omigod, you think it's pork?"

"It tastes like chicken."

"Oy."

New York Jews love Chinese food because you don't need a tie and jacket to eat it. We love it because the portions are big enough to share and Chinese restaurants are open on Christmas Day. We love it because Chinese waiters, like Jewish families, are kid-centric.

There's an e-joke making the rounds:

"According to the Jewish calendar, the year is 5766. According to the Chinese calendar, it's 4703. That means for 1,063 years, Jews went without Chinese food."

I always suspected it was one of those stereotypes that wasn't -- New York has a lot of Jews, New York has a lot of Chinese restaurants, and bingo! You have Chinese restaurants with a significant Jewish clientele.

Full story.

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For those who contributed creative content and technical support to our sperm-toting musical journey of love and, uh, encouragement, I've been meaning to pass along thanks from the dynamic couple. In the interest of their privacy, I'll refrain from posting the picture of the nitrogren cannister all seatbelted in the Suburu, but suffice to say, it was all I imagined and more. Our soundtrack was well received. Quoth the hopefully soon expectant mother, "It definitely created a male energy in the car."

Mission accomplished and godspeed lil' guys.

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The traveling is getting kinda nutso. El Salvador for vacation. New Orleans for a wedding. This week -- Dallas on business. Or, better to say, the business. Next week: Dr. No's Kansas stomping grounds. Anybody in the Wichita area around then, give us a shout-out.

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The Morning News outpoints the LA Times' look at Taiwan's conundrum:

WOLONG NATURE RESERVE, China -- Taiwan and China quibble about everything from diplomatic slights and hidden meanings to ancient history and obscure definitions. So perhaps it's not surprising that they'd argue over two chubby animals that bite each other's ears and have trouble procreating.

China's latest weapon in its increasingly effective charm offensive against Taiwan is an offer of giant pandas. Who would think of turning down two lovable animals that zoos around the world can only dream about, you might ask?

The government of archrival Taiwanese President Chen Shui-bian, for one, which finds itself tied in knots over the offer. Let one panda's nose in the tent, Chen and his allies fear, and you buy into Beijing's claim that Taiwan is part of China, a notion impossible for the pro-independence government on the island to accept.

"The pandas are a trick, just like the Trojan horse," said lawmaker Huang Shi-cho of the Taiwan Solidarity Union party. "Pandas are cute, but they are meant to destroy Taiwan's psychological defenses."

Unfortunately for the Chen camp, most Taiwanese appear happy to have their psychological defenses destroyed by an animal that has melted hearts for centuries. One poll found that more than 70% are in favor of accepting the gift.

Full story.

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here she is--we dont need no stinkin mr guapo.
thanks to aaron and elinor for the amazing outfits and brownies--someone has some knitting talent--i suspect thinman.

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Crap.

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I've recently embarked on a couple new careers. First, I am now officially a free lance writer. I also just completed my first week of working as a bicycle courier in Manhattan.

I've now been in the Empire State Building for the first time and I've seen Gran'ts Tomb. Actually, if you see Grant's Tomb as a bicycle messenger it sucks. It means you're super far uptown and you won't be doing a lot of deliveries. At least I got a nice ride in the park out of it, though.

Yes, working as a bike messenger is dangerous, but the company that I am working for has never had a courier killed on the job, which either means they do indeed put safety first or that they're due for a death. Basically, though, as long as you're alert and use your head, you'll survive. I've quickly found that the most important thing is to be aware when you're getting tired. It's when you're tired that you might not take that second look over your shoulder for the taxi or truck approaching over your shoulder.

A lot of the clients for my company are fashion, media, law and architectural firms and one area that I spend a lot of time in is the Times Square neighborhood. Cruising along on my silent steed, I've given some tourists quite a start. I'm so proud to be part of their official New York experience.

I actually had a more detailed post about my experiences as a courier, but my session timed out because I ran off, on my bicycle of course, to view an apartment and my norlos session timed out. You can be certain that I'll add more about my experiences later.

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It's not a laughing matter.

Thanks to Robot Combat and BoingBoing.

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...as soon as I have time to fix an odd computer bug:

• Photos of Caroline Lyddane
• Photos of Lawrence devastation from Plantnerd and Slug

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The Off-Off-Broadway Review rates every aspect of the Gallery Players' production of Side Show as outstanding except for the lighting/sound which it called "solid or mixed." I'm sure Kevin, the lighting director, blames me.

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Tornado Season just begun in Lawrence. It started off by going right down 13th Street next to my house. E and I are okay, and our house is okay, but some stuff outside our house is definitely NOT okay. Pictures to come as soon as the power comes back on and I can charge my camera.

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We're back now. Sorry for the inconvenience. Sometimes you travel. Sometimes you switch credit cards. Something you forget to tell your Internet host. Sometimes it can't reach you because, well, sometimes you travel. Sometimes all this comes together in one big unhappy mess.

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Now with photo action. Dr. No selected the photos, so you know they won't flatter yours truly.

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Kansas legend dead at 93.

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Since Never Let Me Go and Homeland were the only two books that I had read among those in TMN's Tournament of Books 2006, I've been going to our local branch of the Brooklyn Public Library and checking out the other books on the list. In the nine books that I've read, I only recall two uses of the word "Kai" and both uses occur on page 3 of their respective books.

From Beasts of No Nation, by Uzodinma Iweala:"This is making me to think of jubilating, dancing, hsouting, singing because Kai! I am saying I am finally dead."

From Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman, the creator of Sandman: This dog rejoiced in the name of Campbell's Macinrory Arbuthnot the Seventh, and its owners, when they were feeling familiar, called it Kai."

Take a walk up ninth street and see the Park Slope branch of the Brooklyn Public Library. The plan of many libraries built with Carnegie grants included park space so that the buildings could be added onto as the libraries expanded. You can't really see it in the photo, but the Park Slope library has a later addition built onto it just like the Carnegie library in Lawrence.

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Whether the Simpsons unanimated or hardcore Natalie Portman, is YouTube doomed to become the next Napster?

Stolen word-for-word from The Morning News.

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There's no place you can go and avoid them. Dr. No and I aren't the world's most exotic travelers, but we've been to a few places. And every place we've been -- Spain, Thailand, Ireland, Hong Kong, Jamaica and in my case Mauritius -- we've managed to run into Germans.

El Salvador was almost an exception. We had one close call, at a beach hotel in a place called Pontilla, where we ran into a couple of guys who we initially thought were Germans. They turned out to be Americans, though I´m guessing what threw us off what that they were likely gay. As the days went on, it seemed increasingly unlikely our paths would veer Kraut, as there are hardly any tourists in this country at all, much less Germans.

Then came last night. We're staying in a tiny little town called Suchitoto at what is one of the world's most bizarre hotels (more on it at a later date). We were having a leisurely dinner of chicken soup and pupusas, and what should wander in? Krauts! Two Germans, apparently backpacking. A young couple. The guy was named Wolfgang and spoke English and passable Spanish. They were tanned and skinny. I watched them leave this afternoon and wished them a ¨bien viaje.¨ And I shook my head -- proof positive there's no avoiding those globe-circling Germans, no matter where you go.

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baby girl born 2/27/06
8.0 lbs (3630g)
20.25 inches

once i figure out how to post a bloody picture i will do so.
sorry about the no return Josh, come on over for the kstate game.

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When my dad was looking over the schedule of events for KU's 2006 commencement, he noticed a familiar face in the photo at the top.

In other news, TSI! and jebus may be parents. I gave them a call about watching the KU-Colorado game on Wednesday. Not only did I get their answering machine when I called, but there was no response to the message I left, either.

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We´ll write more later, but for now it´s easiest to say we're stuffed full of pupusas.

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Anybody know how to convert AAC and Apple iTune format files (.m4a?) to .mp3? This is harder than algebra.

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