you know how the sound of a broadcast voice can be nostalgic? the bassy, nasal voice of a forties cbs broacast on vintage radio sounds like something nice that will never happen again. but today i was listening to the bbc world service over the internet, and the slightly digitized voice, from half a world away, had a certain feel to it. one day, yes, that will be the sound of early internet. aw, how sentimental we will be.

there's a faculty member here who has recently retired. when i first came here he was still around full-time, but he didn't have any students. one day, someone who illegally had some kind of master key said, "do you want to see something cool?" and unlocked a door i had never paid any attention to before, and it turned out to be this professor's storage room.


mysterious to me as well

behind that door was a veritable history of scientific equipment in the twentieth century--a small room full of shelves, floor to ceiling, with every manner of twisted bulbous glassware and clunky metal boxes with huge, strangely-indicated dials. retro science is such a cool look.

the other day i had occasion to go in the room again, and i was sad to find it was mostly ransacked, probably by the departing professor. in a need to have something from this wonderful place, i liberated a mysterious device labeled a "pH controller."

what the hell is that? it just fucking controls it, i guess. like, damn this is pH 3 and i need 2! "just turn the controller on it! stand fucking back!" i imagine switching it on and watching the lights of manhattan flick off, zone by zone, out my window.

last night i was going to stay in and read for a few hours. lights just right, a pillow, quiet music--sort of a cartoon of the good life, as envisioned by a naive person who's looking forward to being all grown up.

however, there are two apartments near ours, which i must mention. first, a hispanic family lives across the hall from us--the entire family, ranging from some grandparently looking people, to the obvious mother and father, some high school kids, and a few little people--and on certain days, when only certain members of the family are present (and i'm not sure which ones) mariachi music blares through the door at such a volume that i'm surprised anyone can stand being inside there. it's deafening. but at least it's across the hall and not right next door.

second, right next door lives a single old man. he's a tall, stately-looking white guy with white hair, and he never leaves the house without a jacket and a hat. out of the forties, he has stepped. he's very polite, and very soft spoken.

however, from his apartment blares, at an equally shocking volume, the music of your life. it is so loud. so this leads to the conundrum: if you're going to be annoyed by trumpets, vihuela, and people screaming tunefully in spanish, or by male vocal harmony that sounds like a shaving cream ad with record popping in the background, which would you pick?

my answer changes based upon what hell i am currently being subjected to.

last night, just as i started reading, the old man's music came on. there was a song that had the melody of why do birds suddenly appear, but that seems too modern to me, so it must be the song that song is stolen from. i tried ignoring it, but that didn't work, and then i put on mozart really loud, but that was worse, and then i put on the foo fighters really loud, but then i was annoying myself. then, i hate to admit, i lost my shit a little and banged on the wall. but you know he can't hear me, because he can't even hear his music, and that must mean he's next to deaf. so i closed all the doors and went into the bathroom and read on the floor. but i'm reading solzhenitsyn, and it's very sort of depressing, and my mood wasn't right anymore. in fact, if the old man had been put in gulag himself, at that moment, for playing his music too loud, i might have kind of been into that.

i'll admit that i stayed inside all day yesterday, but today things didn't seem quite end-of-the-world enough for this to be the most snow new york's gotten ever. but it is. ever meaning since right after the civil war, apparently.

and that's what everyone said today. "not that bad, right?" so then, i just checked the new york times, and that's even what their article says. no one had a heart attack shoveling snow. no bus slid sideways into an orphanage. it was all right.

didn't it snow a lot in 2003, and it seemed like this huge deal? i remember standing in union square on like a friday night or something and not another single person was there. and then some people on a snowmobile came down broadway.

or maybe i dreamt that. it's a good story, isn't it?

1. when my social security statement comes in the mail each year, it reminds me how pathetic all the jobs i've had actually are. right now i'm a research assistant in a lab at columbia, and a graduate student. i've also been a research assistant in a lab at the university of north carolina (as a grad student) and at tulane (as a bum). so, i guess i would count that as a popular job for me. i've also done research at owens corning, but that's a company, so it's different. it required more safety training. for a couple years i was a bartender at a jazz club in cleveland, and i do still put this on my resume, and i grant myself the title of bar manager because that's basically what i did. and i was the only bartender--if they were open, i was there. i've been a temp. for a short time i was a dj on an AM radio station that played country music. (and yes, i did sometimes get paid.) in high school, i hosed down the floors at a paper mill, a job which i got through my dad. i have taught class before--the most fun time was in north carolina, where i taught a section of freshman chemistry lab. i made up their tests and all that. i was 23 at the time, and i had a crush on one of the girls in my class, who was 18. i gave her an A. i don't feel bad about that.

2. i hardly ever watch movies, but i don't know how that's happened. when i was in college, i would go to the film society every weekend, sometimes twice. my favorite movie is nashville. it's by robert altman, and it's three or four hours long, and most people think it's boring. my personal philosophy derives directly from repo man. my favorite movie in high school was heathers, and i wanted to be like christian slater, minus the blowing up the school things.

3. i grew up in waverly tennessee; i've lived in nashville, on west end avenue; i went to college in cleveland; technically, i've also lived in cleveland heights, with mia; i've lived in columbus, but it wasn't really columbus, really more like newark; chapel thrill north carolina; new orleans louisiana; east bay california, with my parents, and for a couple weeks, maybe, also sleeping on ryan's floor. i live in queens, which is in new york city. i've also slept in my car for more than seven days in a row, so i think that should count. "i've lived on i-90." i went and stayed with my dad in los angeles when i was a kid, because he was working there for the summer.

4. it is passe to mention that you don't have a television, so i won't. i really like northern exposure. i also like monty python, and the prisoner, and i used to watch 120 minutes on mtv all the time. if i watch tv at all these days, i watch charlie rose, but i'm not sure i would call that a favorite.

5. i have been to iceland, to reykjavik, and flew there on icelandair. i have been to london three or four times, and i find it difficult not to start talking in an insulting, cartoonish british accent while i am there. i spent a good part of one summer in paris, with joe, staying in jim morrison's hotel room. by accident, of course. when i was 18, i went to europe with a french club trip, and i discovered i was good at making people start drinking. what a discovery; it has served me well. i have driven all the way across canada, with mia, from halifax to vancouver. during that entire time i never once ate poutine. what was wrong with me?

6. i like jambalaya, i like mafe, i like curry, i like barbecue. everything i like is sort of peasant food.

7. every day i look at pitchfork, stylus, and the bowery ballroom schedule, because i am one of those. i look at fark, which is like metafilter, but less classy. i like bloggingheads.tv. and flickr.

8. i wrote this because sarah and jess both put me on their list. but of course, i couldn't just write a list and had to do it like a pain in the ass.

it's snowing outside. actually, it is snowing with thunder and lightning. what do you think about that?

i have a liability, and it is this--i like fonts with serifs on them. in fact, these are so greatly preferred, i cannot even tell you. i know, it's embarrassing isn't it? i'm glad i can share this with you, and you won't judge me.

one might as well say they prefer powdered wigs to club hair. right? look around the intarnet--it's arial and sans-serif and efficiency and androgynous black unitards everywhere you look. welcome to the future, we will now optimize you for value-added attainment of real-time goals. or something.

i give presentations for work, and for a while, when i would do one, the benefits of the sans-serif font would inevitably come up. uugghh, don't make me change it to arial. jesus christ, don't make me do that.

i know, when laying something out, they have different purposes, serifs and sans-serifs. but i can feel the chill in the wind. they--yes They--have the ultimate goal of doing away with the serif completely. and after that, printing will be prepared in liquid form, and drunk with meals, and excreted from the body efficiently and discretely.

lately i've been leaving the window open in the lab overnight, because then when i get here in the morning it's thin and cool, so walking into work reminds me of camping. it's almost too cold, but not quite.

this morning i came in and owen was already there, working on his glovebox. i said, "i hope you don't mind my leaving the window open. it's not too cold is it? you and i are the only ones usually in here, so if you're okay with it. . . "

owen said, "it was cold when i got here, so i'd closed it. but then i opened up the glovebox and all these fumes started coming out of it, so i decided to open the window back up."