kmkat and her kneedles

Two-fer Tuesday.

Coupla things.

As horrible and devastating as SuperSandy was/is, it is good to remember how much worse it could have been.

• No major buildings collapsed. Nurses had to carry sick babies down nine flights of stairs while pumping air into their tiny lungs, but the building -- and 99.999% of the others -- stayed up. Thank you, building codes and inspectors.
   
• The majority of people heeded the days of warnings and stocked up or evaculated as they were instructed. Thank you, television and radio and internet and organized government, also thank you, common sense.  (A certain NJ mayor is excluded from this thanks.)
   
• Millions of people are without power, but millions more are not. Thank you, ConEd and other utilites for shutting down pre-emptively and for building some redundency into your systems.
  
  
• Those in harm's way were being rescued, even at the height of the storm, by dedicated police and firefighters and EMTs and other emergency personnel. Thank you, all you heroes. And thank you to those folks 150 years ago who decided that such services were needed and organized and funded them. 

Think of it: a 100-year storm hits the most densely populated area of the country, affecting 50 million people, and the death toll is (as of an hour ago) under 50. That is kind of miraculous right there.

And now, some humor found at blackbird's blog. She lives somewhere near NYC, close enough that she commutes to Manhattan by train every day.

 

 

One more thing. Did anyone else see this photo of the sandbags in from of Goldman Sachs Wall Street headquarters and think, Huh, they are protecting their building with bags of money.

"We took Times Square today..."

"We took Times Square today, 15,000 people or something.  You know those news tickers they have out front of some of the buildings in Times Square?  A great big cheer went up from the crowd when one ran the headline, 'OccupyWall Street protesters take Times Square.' "

-- email from #1 Son, Saturday night

He's at it again.

#1 Son (called home late Saturday afternoon, giddy with excitement): Guess what I'm doing, Mom?

Me: The possibilities are endless. You took a swim in the Hudson?

#1: No, but you are close. We took the Brooklyn Bridge!*

He was not among the dozens arrested**, but his friend Claire was. He will cat-sit for her while she is in jail. Claire is such a med student -- emphasis on the student -- that she made herself a bunch of anatomy flash cards and stuffed them in her bra before the police took her so she could study if she ends up in jail for awhile.

*Apparently there were a number of protests on Friday and Saturday. He was among the group that gathered in Wall Street chanting Greed must go!*** or some such before occupying the Brooklyn-bound lanes of the Bridge.

** Unlike 2004, when he was among the 1,200 or so protesters arrested during the Republican National Convention in NYC (his group was protesting WHINSEC) and spent 40+ hours in Guantanamo on the Hudson. That time he called me on a borrowed cell phone from the middle of Broadway at 29th to say he had been arrested and was waiting to be taken away in a police bus. He was one of the last to be allowed leave the bus-garage-turned-into-a-holding-facility and saw the police spreading rugs and carpets over the oil- and grease-stained concrete floor before admitting the media to view the facility where the protesters had been housed. Because he witnessed that he became part of a class action suit against [city of New York? New York Police Department? I forget]. Somewhere I have a photo I found on the Web at the time, of the protesters lying in the middle of Broadway; #1 is lying at the front of the line.

*** In related news, I recently read The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry, part of which examines (and finds true) the premise that psychopathology may be a distinct competitive advantage to a captain of industry. Based on that I fear that greed ain't goin' away anytime soon.

The earthquake report from a taciturn, low-key Scandinavian.

I emailed #1 Son in NYC to see if he felt the earthquake. His reply:

Yeah, we were on the eighth floor of the pediatrics building, and it started swaying back and forth. We all thought of terrorist attacks or some structural problem in the building before we thought of earthquakes. We were in a session where medical students present cases to a friendly attending, and the attending we were with was this very practical (though also very smart) "I'm a mom" sort of pediatrician, and then we just went on with it. But my first year friend told me they were doing CPR training and all had to evacuate the building for no reason, so yeah, Sinai did do its panic routine.

And there you have it.

Wyoming bullets.

Yes, we are in Wyoming on vacation. Bullet post seems appropriate.

• We got a late start. Mechanic didn't deliver mini-mini-motorhome (Rebuild transmission! Make a/c work!) until the day we were supposed to leave.
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• A number of things remained for Smokey to do to the m-m-mh. He worked on them. Days passed.
• Eventually we left. Can I get a huzzah!
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• Thank you.
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• Bed in back of m-m-mh is extremely comfortable, made more so by addition of 4" memory foam mattress on top of existing cushions.
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• Comfortable sleeping is essential to a good vacation.
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• The green chili at Tom's Diner in Buffalo is so good I could eat it every day.
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• Tragically, it was only on the specials board for one day.
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• The french fries at the Bozeman Trail Steak House are still the best in world.
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• Parts of Wyoming are very empty.
   
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• Unlike parts of New York City.
  
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• Although Grand Central Station is not exactly teeming with people at 10:30 on a Monday night.
   
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• Yes, I took a short side trip to NYC. More on that later.
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• It can be very hot in Wyoming in July.
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• It can also be comfortably chilly.
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• The correct wardrobe is essential: shorts, jeans, lightweight sweats, heavy sweats, a fleece jacket, short-sleeved t-shirts, long-sleeved t-shirts, a denim shirt, lightweight wool socks, heavy wool socks. That about covers it.
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• Except for the dressy black pants, white tank top, short-sleeve sweater, and silk scarf I wore in NYC. More on that later.
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• No moose sightings so far. Several deer, many cattle and horses, no antelope. Where are the moose? We came to see the moose, and we shall find them. They can run but they cannot hide.
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• Actually, they CAN hide, and remarkably well at that.
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• The stream next to the campsite has been running high, apparently due to melting of the 300%-of-normal snowpack in the mountains last winter.
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• Businesses next to Clear Creek, which flows through the center of downtown Buffalo, had sandbags lying around.
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• No flooding right now.
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• This is a good thing. Occasionally I remember the flash flood in the Black Hills in 1972 that killed 238 people, including 11 campers in creekside sites.
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• Our campground is in a canyon.
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• I remember, and then I force myself to forget.
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• Moving on...
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• Much knitting and napping and reading and audiobook consumption have been accomplished.
• Life is good, much better here than at home. More on that later, too.
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• That's the report from Wyoming. Knitting report to follow.

Souvenir yarn.

 The interior of Knitty City, LYS of Kay Gardiner.

   
Not only do they have lots of yummy yarn, they give great bag.

In my bag were the following delights:

 Two skeins of Koigu KPPPM in the imaginatively named 720, destined to become a Baktus for me. When I did a pattern search for Baktus, though, I found that there are a number of scarves that would be fun to make with this. Stay tuned.

 
One skein, 700 yards of Schaeffer Audrey laceweight, 50/50 merino/silk, in the rather more imaginatively named Elisabeth Kubler-Ross. This stuff is to die for and will become some sort of scarfy-shawly thing for me.

 
Two skeins of Alchemy Silk Purse in copper. Also to die for and also destined for some sort of scarfy thing for me.

 

 

So, yeah, we went to New York.

It was raining when we left Minneapolis.

But not in New York. On Friday we met up with Andrew when he got off work.

Andrew is eating pizza we brought him, left over from our own snack.
He actually looks vaguely like a doctor.

Mt. Sinai stands right across Fifth Avenue from Central Park. The green area behind the wall, Andrew told us, used to be called The Sandpit because that is essentially what it was. Earlier this year, or maybe last year, the city landscaped the area and re-sodded it and now it is a lovely place. 

Friday night, Ramblin' Jack Elliot at the Rubin Museum, a museum of Himalayan art. Yeah, now there's a connection. No photos, not allowed. Concert was a little shy of 1.5 hours; he sang six songs and talked a lot. Jack is 79 years old and has 79 years worth of stories to tell. That's why he is called Ramblin' Jack. A little online research before the concert informed us that, although he is a folk/western/country singer, he is a surgeon's son from Brooklyn who ran away from home at 15 to join the rodeo.

On Saturday we saw where Andrew lives.

No photos of the interior or his apartment. Imagine a 15'x18' kitchen/living room/dining room with two tiny bedrooms and a bath on either side. Now imagine that there are always four 20-something males living there and that none of them has a minute to spare on domesticity because they are either studying or working about 26 hours a day. Not squalor but not neatnik heaven, either.

We trucked on down to Chinatown to do a little touristy sight-seeing with one stop along the way. Andrew wanted to show us something but wouldn't tell us what it was.

I may have mentioned my favorite movie here once or twice. This shop is in the Village about a block south of Washington Square.

I got myself a t-shirt, which I cannot show you because it is in the wash. But you can see it here.

While in Chinatown we got a little hungry and found a likely spot to refresh ourselves.

Happily, they also had English menus.

LIke his parents, Andrew is an adventurous eater and likes to order something he has never had before. On this occasion he ordered an appetizer of jellyfish and pigs' knuckles. The waiter, a tiny Chinese man, looked at him sternly and waggled his hands in a "No, no!" gesture. Jellyfish no good, he said. Andrew had fried won tons instead.

Saturday night we ate dinner in an Italian restaurant with six of Andrew's friends from medical school. I suffered a tragic case of camnesia so that event must remain unrecorded.

Sunday was the gospel brunch at Sylvia's Soul Food Restaurant, which you have already seen. We all took long naps after that adventure.

Monday was spent finding breakfast, packing, getting to the airport, and flying home via Washington, DC.

We toured the Capitol and the Washington Monument. From the plane.

 

So, yeah, that was the trip. Lots of fun, good to see the kid young man, good food, yada yada.

Oh, you want to see the yarn?

Okay.

Tomorrow.

Sunday in New York.

Gospel brunch @ Sylvia's Soul Food.

There is no point in traveling if one doesn't take advantage of that which one cannot find at home. And you better believe that soul food restaurants are extremely rare in Polk County, Wisconsin.

Guess where we are going for a long weekend?

 

Going to visit #1 Son. Lucy The Wonder Dog will stay with #2 Son and Best Girlfriend. Flying into JFK Thursday afternoon on Mesaba Airlines (yes, you read that right), coming home Monday. Staying at a brand-new fancy-schmancy hotel a block from the Apollo Theatre (Smokey got a deal). Gonna see Ramblin' Jack Elliot at the Rubin Museum of Art on Friday night, gonna go to the Union Square Greenmarket on Saturday afternoon to look for the yarn that Clara Parkes talked about and showed us at Yarnover, gonna go out to dinner Saturday night with #1 Son and some of his friends from med school, and gonna kick back on Sunday. Might fit in a trip to MoMA or the Guggenheim somewhere in there. I've got a NYC transit app on my iPod and I'm ready to go. Except I haven't packed my suitcase yet.

Catch ya on the flip side!

Hold onto your hats, it's a three-fer day!

I talked to both sons on the phone tonight. #2 son (the one living in the basement of our Minneapolis house) called to ask how to tell when asparagus was cooked enough. I coached him through that and he returned to cooking his gourmet feast extravaganza -- five-cheese mac 'n' cheese (from a box) and asparagus. What a guy.

Then #1 son (the one at Mt. Sinai Medical School in New York City) called to say good-bye forever because, he said, judging from the number of sirens and fire engines and emergency vehicles outside his window, it appeared that The End Of The World was at hand. We chatted for a few minutes, then he said he wanted to go see for himself what was happening.

Later on he e-mailed:

I went and out to see what was going on and saw emergency vehicles stacked up from 97th street all the way to 101st. Some surgical resident sent an email to the students-all listserve saying holy shit the hospital's on fire, we need all hands on deck, so lots of people went over to try and help, but then the emergency responders on the scene said they don't need any medical students. I counted 9 ambulances, 24 fire trucks, 13 other fire vehicles, 3 cop cars, a news van and at least one helicopter. I think this is the only thing on the internet so far:

http://wcbstv.com/breakingnewsalerts/fire.mt.sinai.2.914465.html

Andrew

Smokey replied:

Humph! The news headline calls it a "Smokey" fire. I was nowhere near it.
Hope no one was hurt.
Dad

Later #1 sent the wrap-up:

Six firefighters and no patients were injured. The fire started in a second floor mechanical room and stayed there, although lots of places got smoky. We got two different emails saying all medical students should go help out, and each time they sent us back saying they already had plenty of people. I'm not sure if we'll have class tomorrow.

I know it is wrong of me to be glad the fire was in the hospital and not in his residence, but I can't help it. I am.

Graduations.

Once upon a time there was a more-or-less typical American family of four.

Every Halloween the boys would dress up

and every year they had the obligatory school photos taken.

And then... it was graduation day: May 10, 2007, New York University.

The commencement exercises were held in Washington Square Park in the center of campus. There were 15,000 graduates and 17,000 guests. The graduates processed in two groups, one entering from the north side of the park and the other from the south side. Even so, the procession took a full hour.

Luckily, there was lots to watch. Here's the NYU Bobcat helping some of the doctoral candidates.

Winton Marsalis was one of the dignitaries receiving an honorary degree. He was chosen to speak to represent all of them. He said, "This is how I speak best," and played for us.

Smokey and I had found a little set of bleachers and plonked ourselves on the top tier, where we could see -- sort of -- and lean back comfortably. See those little pointed-top tents in the far right distance? That's where the graduates from the College of Arts and Sciences were seated. At one point during the ceremony I used my cell phone to call #1 son. I waved and he could see me; he waved back and I could see him. Barely.

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Dad and grad:

I believe I have a similar photo when he graduated from high school; iirc, he wore his mortarboard crooked then, too.

The sock was well-behaved during the ceremony (long ceremony, lots of knitting) so it got to be held by The Graduate.

He graduated magna cum laude, with honors in his economics major, and was a College of Arts and Sciences honors grad (that's why he has the gold tassel).

* * * * *

And then it was graduation day, May 25, 2007. Unity High School, Balsam Lake, Wisconsin. Guess which one is ours?

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This graduation ceremony was shorter, only 80 grads. It was rather less formal, too.

 

The bright blue sunglasses in the upper right photo blinked on and off, on and off, through the whole program.

Remember my friend Jeff, whose mangled truck I showed you? This is the driver of the other car:

She got a standing ovation from the rest of the class when her wheelchair was pushed up the ramp onto the dais. She will still need some surgeries before she is done, but she will recover.

We had a much better view here of #2 getting his diploma: 

and his reaction as he walked back to his seat.

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He held the sock -- unwillingly. ("Mom! I'm already late!" "Shaddup and hold the sock.")

But he was a lot happier later.

"I may have flunked calculus, but I had a good time in high school."

We are a couple of very proud parents.

My, oh my, oh MoMA!

While we were in New York I spent an afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art. I had never been there before, so it was one of my avowed goals (besides obtaining the US#1 circ and visiting the famous yarn shops) to go there on this trip.

Mission accomplished.

I started on the top floor and worked my way down, which also seemed to take me through in more or less chronological order. The top floors had the late 19th and early 20th century Impressionists and Expressionists and Cubists.

There was Picasso

and Giacometti

and Brancusi and more Picasso

and Matisse and Cezanne

 

I don't remember who made this statue but I loved the hands.

 

One fact about art of any kind is that what you take away from it depends on what you bring to it. When I sat down in one of the galleries to rest my feet, I found I was looking at a wall of Mondrians. Now, Mondrian has never been a favorite of mine, but as I gazed at this painting

I found myself thinking of the yoke on La Harlot's Bohus sweater, which got so much [well-deserved] coverage on her latest book tour.

I noticed that these two Mondrian paintings, which were not hung next to each other,

 

used the same colors. And found myself thinking how pretty a sweater would be in those colors.

Yeah, if you are gonna steal color ideas, do it from the masters :-)

So then I had to go back and take another look at the Picassos and Matisses and Cezannes to think about them in terms of yarn colors. IMNSHO, art is all about what it says to You Right Now, which is entirely different from what it said to You Last Year and is also different from what it said to The Person Over There.

The first painting I ever loved was there

and was the subject of interest for everyone who passed by.

It took me a while to get to actually stand in front of it. Three or four art lovers had decided that the place to congregate and decide where they should go next and how they would get there and oh, by the way, did you hear what happened to Monica last week? was Right There. I felt bad being annoyed at them but really, why pick the spot in front of the single most famous painting in the whole museum to have your meeting? So I shoved them to the floor and cursed them for the inconsiderate idiots they were. Not really, but I thought about it.

As is apparent from my photos, MoMA allows patrons to take pictures, just no flash. I've never been in an art museum that allowed that but I loved taking advantage of it. At first I was fixated on the paintings and sculpture. But then I started noticing the other people, too.

 

 

I loved that this couple could have been from the midwest. Apparently not everyone in New York is avant garde.
 

What were they all looking at?

An entire 3 or 4-story interior wall covered with cartoons by Dan Perjovschi. (If you follow the link you can see lots of stuff about the artist and the exhibit and download a pdf that shows all the cartoons.) I tried to shoot my favorites, but as you can see I didn't do a great job. Holding one's breath helps, but not as much as a tripod. (I have since read that exhaling before taking the shot is much steadier than holding one's breath. Live and learn.) Click to embiggen so you can read them.

   

After a couple hours of art loving I had to take a break in one of the fine cafes in the museum.

That's the beginnings of the second blue sock. There is nothing like a nice sit-down, a cappucino, and some knitting to soothe an over-stimulated visual cortex.

I hope you enjoyed your tour through the museum as much as I did :-)