For anyone who knows me and for anyone who doesn't, I have a strong abhorrence for greeting cards. I can’t stand “pre-populated messages” and the simple “insert signature here” that stamps that you approve this message.
I own stationary and a pen is always by my side. There is a casual elegance and grace in writing letters. I firmly believe this stems from the deliberate amount of time it takes to craft a letter and a degree of deference to the art of letter writing. When in receipt of mail there is nothing better than a letter that is handwritten on stationary, devoid of any “pre-populated message.” Letter writing provides this improbable dichotomy of communication that is simultaneously “colloquial and graceful,” “informative and superfluous,” “spontaneous and planned,” and at all times unwittingly familiar.
What I am providing below is an “all-purpose occasion card1” which can be distributed for all types of occasions. By maintaining a constant supply of these cards which can be quickly distributed you will have more time for writing a proper letter.
Enjoy.
Directions:
Circle all choices that apply. Alternatively cross out all choices that do not apply. Affix stamp Fill out address of recipient Mail
footnotes:
1by all accounts2this is nine thousand percent more efficient 2Largely scientific3 3Fact!
In all of my years I have never met a cobbler I did not like. For a man of my age I do believe I have more than the average1 amount of cobbling demands but that is beside the point. This past weekend I needed the sole on a pair of oxfords repaired so I ambled down avenue A to find a cobbler that had Sunday hours2. I stopped in at AK Shoe Repair on East 9th where I was happily welcomed. In all of my years every cobbler I have met has fit this description:
• Under 5 foot 6 inches • Most likely under 5 foot 2 inches with some sort of hunch from decades of cobbling • Over 75 years old • Owns store that has not changed in 50 years • Works in a dimly lit space with shoe laces and cedar shoe tress covering every last inch of the wall • Speaks a mumbled version of English where all the consonants seem to blend together • Oh so nice and definitely someone's grandpa • Charges $10 dollars for any and all type of work plus $2 for shoe shine • Extremely proud of work and can’t wait to tell you.
Continually every cobbler I have met has always been so excited to show me the work he has done, whether it is replacing a heel seamlessly, fixing the sole of the shoe, or replacing a heel seamlessly. I’m always waved in to duck down and see the meticulous detail that has been a result of decades of experience and effort. All for which I am then charged ten dollars plus an additional two for the shine.
This is a recipe for blueberry cobbler3 from Thomas Keller’s book Ad-Hoc at Home.
Topping: 1-3/4 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 tsp each: baking powder, baking soda 6 tbsp unsalted butter, at room temperature 3/4 cup granulated sugar 2 large eggs 1/2 cup buttermilk Filling: 8 cups blueberries 1/4 cup granulated sugar 2 tbsp all-purpose flour Finely grated zest of 1 lemon Cinnamon sugar: 1 tbsp granulated sugar 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
For topping, in medium bowl, stir together flour, baking powder and baking soda. In large bowl, combine butter and sugar. Using hand mixer, mix on low speed, then beat on medium until mixture is light and creamy, about 2 minutes, scraping down sides as needed. Beat in eggs, one at a time, until fully incorporated. Add flour mixture in 3 batches, alternating with buttermilk in 2 batches. Scrape down sides; mix again to ensure all ingredients are combined.
For filling, in medium bowl, toss blueberries with sugar, flour and zest. Spread in 9- by 13-inch baking dish. Spoon mounds of batter over berries, leaving space between mounds. (Makes about 12 mounds.)
For cinnamon sugar, stir together sugar and cinnamon. Sprinkle over batter. Bake in preheated 350F oven 40 minutes or until juices are bubbling and topping is golden and cooked through.
Let stand at least 10 minutes before serving. (Refrigerate leftovers up to 2 days.) Makes 6 servings.
footnotes:
1 plus two standard deviations 2 cobbler day of rest 3 delicious
By all accounts we are 10.4% into 20111, a point where over half of New Year’s resolutions have already been broken. I had three resolutions this year and by my account I have been successful.
Resolution #1: Curse less and more at the same time
I habitually curse. I easily surpass my cursing quota every quarter. The majority of my cursing is usually ironic and for the sake of comedy. Work presents a problem as it is the place I am compelled to curse the most, but at the same time a well timed fuck this noise doesn’t always play well in the office. Problem.
Sometime between the hours of 2am and 3am eastern standard time during the penultimate week of 2010 I found my answer:
Shazbot
As you of course know shazbot is the curse word used by Mork2.
By utilizing shazbot my cursing has taken a logarithmic path. It has tapered to an average of 7 shazbots per hour per work day. I think I can mark this as success thus far. I am about a log base 1,9.
Resolution #2: Utilize schematics more
It makes much more sense than utilizing napkins, I have an abundance of t-squares, and I’ll get more done3. I could store the schematics in the warehouse.
Resolution #3: Find ways to use the phrase “a day late and a dollar short”
No more than 11 days ago I was leaving work when my colleague8 was carrying his umbrella the day after it rained and he had been drenched. I pounced on the opportunity but I did not verify if he was in fact a dollar short.
footnotes:
1 at that point I instinctually typed fiscal year 2011 but corrected myself.
2 Of Mork and Mindy fame
3 Although I consider myself to be hyper-productive, my overall production output is hindered by the fact that I am interested in everything all the time and feel the need to constantly begin new projects. In addition to this I am fascinated by design and the environment in which you create in. Often times when I begin conceptualizing4 an endeavor I spend an inordinate amount of time conceptualizing the environment I want to create in. What would be the best type of typewriter, where do I get one of those six foot candles, how many warm grey Copic markers is too many, perhaps this would be better done at the park in front of that fountain on that one bench that I like but not the other ones. What this adds up too is by the time I have decided that I am ready I may have already moved onto the next project7 leaving the original ideas to live only on the pages of an archived moleskine notebook that no doubt won’t be discovered because I never followed through on that time capsule project.
4 The other day I was sitting around drinking a blood and sand5 cocktail and was thinking about blogging. I did not blog. I simply thought about the idea of thinking about blogging. I really like blogging but I like thinking about it more. Often I conceptualize the post in my head or a sketch and feel like “I got it” and then there is not point to put it down. I know editing defeats some of the nature of blogging as I am internally editing myself but I think as the co-writer of this blog I have a duty to my reader(s) to provide all the content that is fit to blog and nothing more. My blog post to ideas about blog posts is 1 : 3, my blog posts to times I think about thinking about blog post is 1: 7.
5 Blood and Sand is a classic scotch based cocktail. It’s great because it’s suitable for breakfast6, a pre dinner drink, or after 2am. Very versatile. This recipe is more on the bitter side than the classic recipe by substituting punt et mes for ross vermouth and using less luxardo maraschino liquor or cherry brandy. I also am using a peated scotch that gives it a smokey flavor and aroma that plays well with the orange juice and cherry.
1 oz Laphroaig Freshly squeeze juice of one large Valencia orange (approximately 1 oz) .75 oz of Punt et Mes .75 oz of Cherry brandy or luxardo maraschino liquor Dash of orange bitters
Stir with ice in a glass cocktail shaker and strain once or twice through a chinoise or a tea strainer commensurate on your proclivity for orange juice pulp. Pour into a chilled coupe glass or serve with one large ice cube in a rocks glass.
6 It has orange juice!
7 I have this business idea for a work related fantasy camp. Unlike those rock and roll fantasy camps the job choices would be everyday jobs that we want to do for a week but passed on in our lives for financial and other reasons. One week as a mailman, cop, crooked cop, bakery owner, proprietor of a bed and breakfast, high school math teacher who teaches kids that math is fun. So like that. To be detailed in a post to be named later
8This particular work colleague grew up in Kent and now resides in London. It’s predictable but we enjoy discussing the weather. The BBC has tremendously good weather forecast. All of their meteorologist discuss the intricacies of barometric pressure with a sense of ease knowing the connoisseurship of the audience. I brought that up with my co-worker who informed me everyone in England loves talking about the weather and is so well versed in it partially because of weather forecasting being part of the National Curriculum. He described that during your studies a significant amount of time is devoted to forecasting the weather as this fun and informative assignment. Combined with the detail being provided it seems to stick. The BBC news provides me less relevant weather advice but I’m always well prepared for the rain.
My aesthetic personal has always leaned toward unnecessary necessities; firmly defined as the design points that are superfluous in existence and utterly indispensable. This includes but is not limited to warehouses, improbable shelving, stacks and stacks of books circa 1918, oversized antique French globes, perhaps some vintage rope… to name a few.
As I was combing through back issues of the New York Times, yes I think that is a thing, I stumbled across an article explaining on how Blanche, i speculate she has a real name, has a secret passage. My immediate thoughts jumped between “why don’t I have a secret passage,” “where would it go “and most pressing “why the hell does Blanche have a secret passage and I don’t.”
Blanche’s abode is on the market for $2.25 million and is listed with Brown Harris Stevens. It is a modest three bedroom on a pleasant block off of 1st avenue, although probably not hopping enough for the below sixty set.
In the pantry however was a door disguised as a spice rack. This led to of all things a bathroom. Unfortunately there is no secret lair, no treasure of Al Capone, not even a shrine to Betty White.
The reasons for Blanche having a secret bathroom are probably much more mundane than sinister, and more practical than awesome.
The obvious next question is where my secret passage would go. Similar to my other ideas it gravitates to this concept of entering an undersized door into an oversized room that you didn’t really comprehend existed because spatial relations can be hard sometimes and is sparsely lit and industrially decorated. With all time I would inevitably spend there a bathroom would be both functional and appropriate. And it’s always great for resale value…
So I was reading this article in the New York Times today about how Republicans aren't going to want federally funded public works projects in their states. The article specifically mentioned the Florida governor's office examining whether it should accept $2.4 billion (with a B) in federal stimulus money to build a high-speed rail line from Tampa to Orlando. And of course who could forget New Jersey Governor Chris Christie turning down $3 billion from the federal Department of Transportation to update the only tunnel connecting NJ Transit to Manhattan as well as to build a new one.
"Subsidize me!"
You know what? Good. Don't take our stupid money. Give it to the Washington Metro System so that millions of ignorant tourists can finally stand to the left on functional escalators, and fewer trains plow into the back of other trains. Give the money to the MTA (like they need more money) so the terribly rundown Connecticut Metro-North cars can get an update (and so we can keep the bar car). So that they can take back that really just plan unnecessary 10% price increase they just instituted.
No but don't invest in our infrastructure. Because pretty soon we'll all be driving over bridges on the verge of collapse.
Economics is a constantly adapting and field of study, which is one of the reasons it remains consistently relevant. After reading half a Freakonomics article and carrying around a copy of today's Financial Times for most of the day, I've declared myself capable of creating new and exciting bullshit economic indicators. Before we go on, in the interest of disclosure, I feel compelled to point out that these indicators do have an overwhelmingly shallow, heterosexual bias.
Cost of Good Sex (COGS)
Generally considered a lagging indicator, COGS is designed to accurately predict the amount of capital investment required for a given level of sex with a girl of varying hotness. The blue line clearly indicates a male skew.
The main takeaway here is this: Girl Hotness is dependent on dollars spent. The more dollars spent the hotter girl you will be able to take home. And research clearly shows that girl hotness is perfectly aligned with quality of sex.
The curve does flatten out (similar to the PPC below) based on the diminishing return of increased investment.
There are externalities that could push the COGS curve downward such as male unattractiveness and overall douschiness which would decrease the upper limit of girl hotness. Overwhelming male hotness or other positive externalities could push the curve to the up, decreasing COGS overall. Please note: this model becomes wildly unstable in cases of intoxication.
Penis Possibilities Curve (PPC)
For women. This leading indicator accurately predicts the minimum hotness threshold of a for a girl to go home with him based on her independent desire to have sex.
The lower the organic desire to have sex, the higher a man has to be to overcome the sex threshold. For example with a low innate desire to have sex, one would have to be a Ryan Reynolds type to overcome the threshold.
As intrinsic desire increases, the minimum male hotness threshold decreases, allowing for a broader (and generally more unfortunate) range of possibilities. The curve does straighten out at the end because let's be honest, we all have our minimum standards of acceptability. It's interesting to note that this model does survive the alcohol test, though more research is required to see if intoxication simply causes a move down the curve or makes the entire curve shift downwards.
Have you realized recently that the medical profession has downright atrocious customer service? As a people-oriented service-intensive industry, one would think that medical professionals would provide a pretty high level of customer service. You know, like the service industry does. As it turns out, this is patently false.
In the real world (which includes basically every industry known to man except healthcare), when the vendor shits the bed, they need to perform some kind of service recovery to retain business. This could be for defective products, bad advice, long waits, incorrectly listed price, the list goes on. When I worked in hospitality, we gave shit away all the time to upset guests. Because we not only cared about how they viewed us, but we cared about their level of happiness.
If you look at the below graph, you will see that the medical sector performs basically zero service recoveries. (Note: this was created using conclusive, peer-reviewed data.)
Think about it for a second. What other industry would you be expected to wait upwards of an hour after your scheduled appointment as standard practice? Where else is it remotely acceptable for your vendor to refer to you in the third person when you are literally right in front of him?
How is this possible? Brainstorming rationally, we can come up with these hypotheses:
H0:This Medical Professional genuinely doesn't give a shit about your level of satisfaction with their service
H1:This Medical Professional has a monopoly on the market
H2:This Medical Professional can't afford to adequately staff his support team
(There were other hypotheses, but I got lazy.) Let's go ahead and knock H1 and H2 out right now because they're clearly wrong. First of all, because we do not live on the moon (or in the middle of North Dakota), we have access to more than one doctor. And furthermore, the barriers to switch medical professionals (unless you have an HMO, which I don't and neither should you) are low.
Also, MDs clearly aren't broke. Let's stereotype for a second, and assume that all doctors drive new Mercedes-Benzes and play golf on Wednesdays. And although we know that not all of them drive Mercedes, we know that they can afford them. So they can clearly afford to hire and pay competent staff. Furthermore, if doctors did not make a substantial amount of money, we would expect to see a drop in applications at Medical schools nationwide. In fact, the inverse is happening.
Therefore we prove the null hypothesis and are left with the incontrovertible fact that your doctor doesn't give a shit about you. And furthermore, because we know that the barrier to switch in the healthcare industry is low, we can iterate out that every doctor doesn't give a shit about you. Let me illustrate:
As you can see here, Doctor Cost of Giving a Shit (COGS) has a perfectly inverse relationship with how much free time said doctor has. And, if I could draw your attention back to Chart #1, there's no monetary cost for not giving a shit. Ceteris paribus, doctors can minimize COGS by providing the minimum care and maximum free time. It's economics.
This graph illustrates another reason why doctors have no incentive to improve their customer service. For our purposes, pressure to improve means pressure by superiors. Before I explain this graph, let's ponder on this scene from Office Space:
The problem is that doctors' bosses are almost always doctors. And you know what that means? They don't give a shit about your customer experience either--as long as you don't a. kill anyone, b. get sued, or c. get them sued.
So how can we rectify this? Must we incentivize medical pay based on something other than the number of tests that they run on you? It could be almost like a tip based system that servers get. Based on your bill of tests, you may elect to tip (which really means pay) your doctor up to 100% of what he currently makes. Suddenly the medical industry is now customer oriented. Just like the service industry. Just like it should be.
I understand that in order to become a medical doctor it requires something like seven years of schooling plus three years of residency, and that your social development has been retarded as a result. But you had, at the very least, 17 years to practice normal human interaction. And if you can't pick up something as simple as giving a shit in 17 years, what makes you think you can pick up this doctoring shit in 10?
In New York City, and I imagine part of the eastern seaboard, it had been snowing continuously for what seems to be no less than fifty-two hours. From what I saw out of window and from what the sushi delivery man relayed to me about the conditions, it is quite bad.
Despite Hector’s diatribe on city’s handling of the snow and the apparent conditions I decided to trek to the office today. After exiting the subway and walking down 53rd street past Park I was thankful to only almost fall no more than four times. Chelsea boots, although quite conducive to my normal assassin down the avenue, are not ideal for snowy pavement. Not really paying attention to anything as I was walking I approached my office building and stepped over a makeshift barrier of yellow caution tape as if that was normal and incredibly appropriate. I then looked around and I was surrounded by this tape and started to think why.
Conventional circumstances would probably cause someone to exit the area and examine the situation but I thought of it as prudent to observe from the inside out, not quite gonzo journalism but I think pretty close. It was then a large clump of snow came hurdling down and struck within the taped in area and exploded like an apache missile sending snow shrapnel in my direction.
I looked up and it was apparent what was happening. The architect clearly did not plan for the snow. Foolish and irresponsible, really. Everything is all in the details.
Let me explain.
My office building on Madison Avenue has a generous curve leading up to a 14th floor deck. From the 14th floor on the building straightens out and is perpendicular with the road. As the snow falls off the 14th floor deck it then hurdles down the ramp that is the curvature of the building and shuttles out into the splash zone. I spent to long standing acting as a target for the snow. They don’t deserve that chance.
Anyway after finally arriving today it was apparent that I am the only person in the office. I turned on the lights, hung up my coat, and made myself a coffee. Sitting in my office sorting through emails, responding where appropriate, and turning on a copy of Rain Dogs by Tom Waits.
After a light lunch I turned to my bar and contemplated what I would make to drink. My home bar is meticulous arranged and plentiful. A cornucopia of vermouths, bitters, gins, scotch, rums, absinthes, velvet falernum, and most anything you could want. For late nights my bar in the office is appropriately stocked with miniature bottle versions of what I have at home.
Campari is an Italian vermouth with a deep, ruby red color and an appropriate amount of bitterness. The herbs in Campari and many types of vermouth are perfect for the aperitif. The aperitif is the first drink of the evening. It is how you should start not only a meal, but the night.
The aperitif is elegant. The aperitif is infinitely contemporary in its classicalness. The pre-dinner drink stimulates the appetite and conversations, what could be better. There is an implicit grace and civility in drinking with diligence and purpose. A traditional aperitif such as the Negroni is perfect. One drink is more than enough as you then venture on for a meal and have your pre dinner martini, followed by wine, followed by a glass of champagne with dessert, and a digestif.
The Negroni • 2oz Plymouth Gin • Slightly less than 2oz of Campari • Slightly less than 2oz of Italian Vermouth (I enjoy Punt e Mes1 or a Rosso)
In a cocktail shaker pour all of the ingredients with a few ice cubes and stir gently. This melts a small part of the ice without diluting the drink. In a rocks glass chisel one large ice cube. Traditionally the Negroni is served with an orange but I prefer a lemon twist. Twist the lemon over the ice to release the natural oils and run along the rim of the glass. Pour the stirred ingredients over and serve. The large ice cube is perfect for the purpose of the aperitif as it does not dilute the drink but over the course of conversation where a drink may be neglected it will appropriately soften the drink.
Oh and here is some more of my novel/screenplay
I was not looking forward to going to India but I was surprised when I got there. Just the idea of how many shots you need and the malaria pills really upset me.
-I didn’t take any shots
You didn’t? And then you have to take Malaria pills too.
-Oh, I didn’t take mine
Well I didn’t take mine either but I at least had them with me. Michael took his the entire time and they gave him horrible nightmares.
- To be fair we did buy the pills on the street and the gentleman did inform us that the cheaper pills would give us nightmares.
And then at first you think that monkeys are so incredible and you see them up close, and then you start feeling competitive with the monkeys and you realize they don’t really have your best interest at heart.
1 Punt e Mes translates to "Point and a half," being about a point of sweetness and a half a point of bitterness. Halfway between Campari and Sweet Vermouth it is preferred for Negroni's adding a plesant savory bitterness
