Club Sandwhich not Seals?

Nothing offends me more then animal rights advocates. That’s right, you heard me.

I was at work minding my own business when I got an email from a coworker today. At the bottom of her email she had the typical signature along with this little graphic:

Is this lady for real? Yes, because at the very bottom of the email is this poem:

Oh Beautiful for smoggy skies, insecticided grain,

For strip-mined mountain's majesty above the asphalt plain.

America, America, man sheds his waste on thee,

And hides the pines with billboard signs, from sea to oily sea.
-George Carlin

I won’t get into environmental issues right now; they are only second to animal issues.

Back to the little fur balls. Do people really club seals that much? Nothing pisses me off more then people who are passionate about causes such as this... it’s like when I kept seeing stupid op-eds about the abandoned cats during Katrina... what about the abandoned PEOPLE? Or for that matter what about the people on the streets before Katrina? What about the kids being beaten or the parents who love their kids but can’t afford medical care for their ill child? What about grandma down the street living off food stamps and Medicare?

I don’t mind people having a cause. I, myself, have a lifetime commitment to four philanthropies (Prevent Child Abuse America, The Girl Scouts of America, the Children’s Hospital, and Orthopedic Research). Note: All humanitarian based.

So, she brands every outgoing message with a "don’t club the seals" seal... right, I was just about to trek out to Alaska and have a whack. But, you know something after seeing that moving graphic on her email I said "Not today, not on my watch". She must be reaching millions of potential clubbers and/or their influence over clubbers. (For the record, I’d rather have food on the table due to money that came in from killing a seal then have a cute seal overpopulate.)

I was getting all riled up after chatting with Wayne about this, so I ventured over to one of the leading volunteer sites on the World Wide Web; Idea List. I casually perused the site and here are some findings:

There are 2,924 “Human Rights & Civil Liberties” Nonprofit organizations listed within the United States compared with 2,004 “Wildlife & Animal Welfare” nonprofit organizations. And an inconvenient truth: there are 4,759 nonprofits in the US focused on “Environment & Ecology”. Did you get that? We (thanks Drock and Jay) crunched the numbers. That is 62.75% more tree hugging clubs then people hugging clubs! (excuse the "club" pun). Sickening.

They basically say they would rather spend all their time, mental and physical energy and money on some animal instead. I say, lets take all that and focus on domestic violence, drug addictions, homelessness, poverty, medical attention, mental illness, prison reform, terrorism, the global market.

I will leave you with a quote before I go to visit the elderly tonight:

“We do not support the killing of any animals but we consider the slaughter of the seals to be humane.” – Trevor Scott, Executive Director of International Society for the Protection of Animals

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Calm Down... I have more to say.

First of all, the namesake of this blog is not the dictate of this blog; I will be blogging of things not related to NYC. Like right now.

That disclaimer is due to a few people crying about my blog name... of those people is Dan Clark. (You heard me, I just called you out on my blog. ) Anyway, his blog is called DC Motoring . The title pays homage to his name, where he lives, his car obsession, blah, blah, blah. So, yes, a bit more complex then mine. Whateves.


But, that got me thinking about how much I love my car. My blog password may, or may not be "saving-up-for-some-sick-spinners-and-maybe-new-neon-lights-to-put-beneath-the-undercarriage". I bought my car used, and am fairly certain the previous owner was a Latin male in his teens. Yes, it's that tight. After a fresh morning dew, when the sun hits the ultra-tinted back window just right, you can faintly make out the outline of where decals used to spell "Magaña" in old english script. (Shout out to Frank). Here is a stock photo (of the car, not Frank):




So, as I briefly thought of my unique car*, I remembered a journal entry from a few years back that I had penned. Quick Backstory: upon my arrival to the area, I had no car and a job working for The Man in the District. Which meant, I got to ride the Metro. Which also meant I had the treat of taking a bus to/from the nearest Metro stop... Here is a snippet of that journal entry, dated 6/26/06:


"I was sitting on the public bus and as the rumpled people began to board, I was dreading who might plop down next to me; would it be the old cigar ridden man, the uncomfortable spinster with cat hair all over her, or the kid trying to get home from school? I always disliked it least when it ended up being the kid. Best of all though, was when no one sat by me. When I was that kid, it was the worst thing ever to be on the bus and not have anyone to sit next to. It was an out right sign that I was a loser. Now, just the mere fact that I am car less and am taking the bus makes me that loser, so what’s it matter if someone sits next to me or not? Well, I will tell you why it matters: I like to get to my destination unchanged. That means I don’t want to smell like I’ve just smoked a few Cubans, I don’t want tiny pieces of Fluffy all over my clothes, I don’t want to catch the bubonic plague, and most of all, I don’t want to remember what it was like to be that kid."


______________________


*Brad Rodgers, has the exact same car as I have (there are slight cosmetic differences). I would like to issue a public challenge to him: Race on the GW Parkway on the way home from church. This Sunday. Since the cars are identical under the hood, it will show which of us has more guts. Bring it, Brad. Bring it.





P.S. Since I have been name dropping (like it's hot)... here is one more: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEREK JAMISON!

The World Wide Web Deserves It...

So there I was in the heart of Midtown Manhattan having one of the best days of my life; and it was said "This day is so great, I have to blog about it... in fact, so great that I have to start a blog to blog about it!" And here we are. I am blogging. It was a blessed Sunday in NYC that spilled over into Monday:

• We woke up late on Sunday morning and brunched at Le Bonne Soupe. I don't even like french food, general breakfast items, or eggs (I mean, think about what an egg is- that is gross). So, knowing that, when I say the place has great quiche, it is exceptional.

• Onto Tiffany's & Co. where we were treated like every other pedestrian jewelry buyer, Katie did add to her perverse collection of silver.

• Stopping into church at St. Patricks Cathedral, we discovered (braving the bitter cold) catholic extremists singing hymns of praise while protesting the service. Come to find out they were pissed because their parish was shut down (most likely due to St. Patty's "stealing" their congregation). They handed us some paraphernalia detailing a timeline of events. It basically went like this "The Cardinal said we were going down. We got shut down". Now, that seems fair to me. It's a church eat church world out there.

• We decided we wanted Frozen Hot Chocolate from Godiva. Of course, when we asked where the closest storefront was, it was just around the corner.
  


• After our purchases, we went to go meet Wayne who was saving our spot in line at TKTS (now, before you hall monitors get upset, let me remind you that at TKTS you can buy as many tickets as you want, so it wouldn't have mattered if we got in line with Wayne or if he bought our tickets for us).
  


• As we strolled down to TKTS laughing and sipping on our chocolate decadence Katie says "The only thing that could make this better is if we had our own parade". Moments later we hear a constant blow of horn. We see off a few blocks away that the police were coming out in full force... what? Is there a parade scheduled? NO. Kosovo had declared their independence from Serbia and the people took to the streets! An impromptu parade! Naturally, we joined in their joyous celebration and were accepted as one of them. Turns out, Katie and I both have dark hair, dark eyes, and fair olive skin... fit right in. Hundreds of refugees were frolicking about waving flags, thanking Americans for the support, dancing, cheering and feeling liberated. We (the collective Kovsovian masses) were on the news.

• The tickets for the show we wanted were not being offered at TKTS... a sure sign they are sold out, but we figure everything else is going our way, why not check the box office at the Theater... Why not?

• On our way to the theater, we are telling Wayne of our blessed day and he said "Is it as easy as that, say what you want and you get it?" Yes. He then said "I want to win a lottery". At this moment, Katie looks up into a storefront window and spots the NYC version of these collector mugs she happens to collect. We go inside the store and Wayne finds money just laying there on the ground. He won the lottery. There are many definitions of the word, but this one is fitting: An activity or event regarded as having an outcome depending on fate. (Now, before all you straight-arrows get upset, remember that there are thousands and thousands of people who had taken to the streets in celebration... would have been impossible to locate the rightful owner of the cash).

• We made our way to the theater where Katie says "I would just be happy if they had two seats". We get to the front of the line and the man says "We have two seats left". But, they were obstructed view. No thanks. We did appreciate that the miracle was placed at our feet, but we did not wish to accept.

• We took a cab, using Waynes lotto winnings, down to SoHo to spend the money we had saved for the show we rejected. On the cab ride down, Katie makes reservations for that evening at Becco; which of course they could fit our party of six in that evening. 9:15pm work? Why not.

• Dinner was delicious. A long italian meal. We were seated in the corner table, directly under a full glass ceiling. We feasted on a symphony of home made breads, pastas, and desserts. We shut the place down, just shy of midnight- though Kim was so lost in the meal she questioned the hour to be close to 6:30am.

• This also worth noting; I bought cute shoes from Cole Haan, we ate Sushi at Haru, and stopped by to by some cupcakes from Magnolia.
  
  
  
  

Now, can you top such a great day? Why not? We still had Monday. Now, at this point, our Sunday was very clean... but we knew that Monday wouldn't be. I call it "getting down and dirty in NYC".

• Sarabeths. That is all that needs to be said.
  

• Making our way to Canal street, Katie sees that there are perfume vendors. Her old standby spritzer of Gucci Rush 2 is no longer in production, but of course she finds it and buys it for a low price.

• We then decide to walk up into the Village where Katie says "I just want to go across town to the Links store" and I follow up with "I just want to eat pizza in little Italy".

• About three seconds later Katie looks up to see a Links store.
  


• Then we are walking towards little Italy where there are hundreds of pizza joints, we round the corner and I see my favorite one. Of course.

• After eating the best Vodka Pizza in the City, we stop a passerby to ask her where we can get some gelato(mind you, we are in Little Italy, the place is riddled with little deli's selling gelato). She explains that we need to venture to the Lower East Side, where there is the best gelato in all of America. No, really, it is... not according to my standards, but according to everyone else too. Google it.
  

Now, this entry read like a travel-log, because, well, it is.

• Oh yeah, I won an oscar at the Techie Awards taped before this Sundays live show: