In Sight, Nov. 23

Why didn't I see this film years ago?

Hint, and you shall receive

The other day I was talking to my boss and I told him the 5-year-old Mac G4 I was using was a little slow.



Truthfully, it was really slow running modern programs like Photoshop CS2. But, hey, I don't have to pay the bills, so I'll stick with what they give me.

Well, to my surprise, look what was waiting for me when I got to work today:



A new quad-core Mac Pro and a 30-inch display! Holy crap!

I wonder if I should *hint* that my computer back at home is "a little slow" …

First snow of the fall

It's snowing outside right now. It's not quite cold enough — it's only 37 degrees — and the snow isn't sticking; just melting when it hits the ground, making the streets and sidewalks look wet.

I've been sitting by my windows, drinking coffee and listening to Debussy
, watching the snow float down to the ground and vanish. It's quite soothing from this vantage, though I'm sure it won't be as nice when I walking through the gray to the subway. But that's why they make trench coats, scarves, and boots.

Yes, it's cold outside, and, yes, come January, I will be daydreaming about "warm" 30-degree days … but I've honestly been looking forward to this moment for months. At work, Beverly has been poking fun at me because every time we'd get the weather page for the last two weeks, I'd ask if it's going to snow. That led to her to turn the tables.

"Think it's going to snow tonight, Robert?" she would ask in a playful voice that implied the question was merely rhetorical.

"Why, do you think it will, Beverly?" I would respond, the eagerness in my voice quite audible.

"We'll see!" she would say, and we'd rehearse this routine each night around 8:30.

Well, it's snowing now ... and I'm happy.

In Sight, Nov. 18

Ice skating on the Frog Pond in the Common.


A chilly, yet beautiful, fall day on the Common.

See this movie*

"No Country For Old Men," the Coen brothers' new film based on Cormac McCarthy's novel, is one of the best films I've seen in a long time. So much so that I'm going to see it again tomorrow afternoon.

I knew I would like it: I'm a big fan of the Coen brothers, and Cormac McCarthy is probably one of the best living American writers (I started reading his Pulitzer-winning "The Road" last week). But the biggest surprise was Javier Bardem, the actor who brilliantly plays the homicidal maniac, Anon Chigurh. Tommy Lee Jones, always a good bet, is awesome as the haunted Sheriff Bell.

I could go on and on about the West Texas setting, the camera work, the dialogue ... the movie is terrific, and I'm sure it's going to win the hell out of some Oscars this year.

*Only if you like dark, violent, morally ambiguous movies that demand almost as much of you as you of them.

(-30- movie plug)

When the Times picked up a Globe story that I edited, they kept the headline I wrote (and most of my edits). Can I officially call this my first New York Times headline … or am I just huge dork who is making this out to be a lot bigger than it should be?

Whatev. It made me smile this morning. :D

In Sight, Nov. 16

David Ryan shot this photo at the The Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University.

Bummed

What I won't be seeing in person on Thanksgiving.

I'm unable to go to Chicago for Thanksgiving. I blame that mostly on the fact I have no seniority (then again, it's tough to get seniority among a copy desk that has 40-year veterans). Someone has to put out the paper and the veterans need their vacations.

There is a silver lining, though: I'm going to Jax (again) at the end of this month, so I won't have to go two months without seeing Jenn.

And at least I'll still be able to eat well: The Globe's fête for its Thanksgiving crew is supposedly legendary. And I'll probably head out to Brookline for dessert with Tom and Leslie. So I won't have to cry myself to sleep that night. Heh. Still, I would've loved to see Jenn's family for Thanksmas. (And Chicago is pretty cool, too.)

Next year?

So long, Franco

Franco. He was mine from July 2002 to November 2007.

We went through a lot together, me and him. He took me through the bayou of Louisiana, through the wasteland of western Texas and the great deserts of the Southwest to the shore of the Pacific Ocean — and back. He took me up the eastern coast to Washington, D.C., and, later, up to New England. We were victims of crime, and our stereo was stolen while he slept in my driveway in San Marco.

The car, bought from my grandmother, was nearly perfect, mechanically speaking. I heard Toyotas were reliable, but this was getting a little bizarre: He gave me 70,000 miles and asked little in return.

Unfortunately for him, I started using him less and less. Consider this: from September 2006 to November 2007, I put 6,000 miles on him — 1,500 of those were during the drive to Boston. Why? I started walking or bicycling everywhere while I lived in San Marco and, later, I moved to a great city that was rife with every car's worst nightmare: extensive and reliable public transportation. Some have asked me if it felt weird to not have a car after having one for 10 years, and I can honestly say it doesn't feel weird: I drove him twice since July, and one of those times was driving for driving's sake (I just wanted to see if he'd turn on).

It was time for him to go, and fortunately I sold him to a family friend and not just some non-rhotic-accented Bostonian.

My closest family friend — my second mother, by all accounts — Maria now owns Franco. She and my mom came up to Boston last weekend to visit and pick up Franco.


Maria and Mom in Harvard Yard. (Strangely, there were no cahs pahked there.)

They took their time heading south, stopping in New York in D.C., and I received word yesterday that they arrived Florida. I was told he ran great the whole time.

Damn straight he did, I thought.

This is so awesome …

Mario Kart!

NYT: Norman Mailer, Outspoken Novelist, Dies at 84

Momentum

I finally feel like we're making the City & Region page look less … like a metro page. You know what I mean; big photo, five stories each day. We're making it look less like a template, and more like a vehicle for good storytelling and compelling design.


"Can you tell he used to be a business designer?"

In Sight, Nov. 7

Last train downtown.

In Sight, Nov. 6

It's rainy and cold in Boston.

What's going on?

It seems like awhile since I wrote, but I guess it's been only 10 days. A lot happened in those past 10 days, though, so I haven't had much of a chance to update.

Whatever. You didn't come here for excuses. You came here on the promise of riches beyond your wildest dreams and, if you got my recent chain letter, offers of hot, teen girls and various genital enhancement products.

So, to answer Marvin's question, here's what's going on:

TRAVELS

I was in Jacksonville from Sunday to Wednesday of last week. No particular reason; just to get my fix of family and Jacksonville friends. I went to European Street on Sunday night, and many people came out to visit. I was surprised by how many, and it was wonderful to see everyone. It was strange because I haven't been gone long enough to feel out of place in Jacksonville, so it felt almost like I never left; like Boston was a dream.

But, as the week progressed, I started missing Boston; the city, really. Specifically, the public transportation. I had to ride a JTA bus to UNF for my lecture on Monday, and it kind of sucked. The bus was late and they run so infrequently. I'm not faulting JTA — Jacksonville has grown beyond the scope of reliable public transportation. I'm just really happy to have the MBTA, even when it gets in my juice.

The lecture went really well. I brought an exercise for the class: a story that had a bunch of holes in it, and I pretended to be the careless reporter. So as they read the story and spotted something that didn't make sense, they called me over and tried to get the info from me. The exercise promoted good judgment, which is a lot more important for a newspaper copy editor than the ability to chase down errant commas.

After class, some of the students who work for the campus newspaper, the Spinnaker, invited me back to the office, which was a nice trip into the past.

… OK, as I'm writing this, I have to admit, it still feels weird to go back there. No, "weird" is such an inaccurate word. "Old" is actually how I feel. "Out of place" is another. I admit that going from college graduate to a top 10 national newspaper in five years is impressive on paper, but I don't think I can live up to the students' idea of what that should look like. "Work hard and you'll go far" just doesn't sound very sexy. Maybe I'm just being modest. Whatever. I'll have to revisit the issue again (maybe just in my head next time).

Going home was great. It was nice to see my brothers and family … and see the dogs! I've missed them so much. But not as much as I've missed my cats. Travis, the queen, seemed to play coy when she saw me on Sunday. Then, after a few minutes, she was rubbing all over me and it was like I never left. And when Jenn and I went to bed that night, it was finally a full house again, with all four of us snuggled up. THAT was my favorite part of the trip.

The day before I left, my mom and I went for a drive in her new convertible, and we toured Fruit Cove, County Road 210 and Palm Valley. Parts of it are unrecognizable to me, even though I haven't been to that area in a year. There is so much development and this Nocatee thing? Man. I can't believe it's already starting. So long, Old Florida.

Overall, I enjoyed the trip home. I wish I could've stayed longer to see more of Jenn, but I'll see her in a few weeks in Chicago. I can't wait for that!

NOTE ON TRAVELING

I intended to bring Travis to Boston with me this time, but it didn't happen — my landlord intends to work on the apartment soon and I decided Travis didn't need to be around for all that.

In my preparations for bringing her up, however, I researched the protocol for traveling with pets. I was startled by what I read: US Air charges $80 to bring a cat aboard. Let me clarify: US Air wants me to pay $80 to shove my cute, awesome cat in a cage and place her under my seat (where my legs would go) for several hours.

Obviously, they fear the cat will disturb the other passengers. But as I climbed into the seat at 5:30 Sunday morning, I started fuming when a baby started screaming in the seat right in front of me, and didn't stop for hours.

How is this fair, that the baby can fly for free and in the arms of its mother while my cat requires $80 and a cage? I decided to write a letter, and I've included the top:



… and a solution …


Baby's First Kennel®!

I'm going to send it to US Air in hopes of a policy change.

WORK

Work is going splendidly. I received all superiors on my 90-day probation review. "Yes, you can stay," my boss told me. But more importantly, my hours are changing. Now, I'll work from 2:45 to 10:45 p.m., which will give me several hours to work on the cover design. Hoo-ray!

SUNDRY OTHER TOPICS

• THE WEATHER is cool (almost cold), and I love it. I bought Awesome Jacket, a black, double-breasted pea coat that is super warm and quite stylish (I think). The only downside to the upcoming winter is the fact that the sun sets at 4:30 p.m. now. Seriously. It's 4:58 p.m. as I'm finishing this entry, and there's only the slightest trace of light left in the sky and the sun is well below the horizon. Until I get used to this, my body is going to be a little screwy. For instance, last night I was ready for dinner around 5:30 p.m. and ready for bed by 10 p.m.
• MY MOM and Maria are coming to visit next week. Maria is buying my car and the two of them are driving it back to Florida. So long, car.


• HALO 3 is a friggin' awesome game. Tom and I played for hours yesterday.

• OS X Leopard was worth the wait. It's quite an amazing piece of software, and the new Adobe CS3 runs even faster on it. (Side note: I'm going to start freelancing editing and design services again. It's always nice to work on projects that aren't related to newspapers.)

There are thieves among us

I went downstairs Sunday morning, opened the front door and walked to the street entrance of my apartment building, scanning the steps and floor. This is what I saw:



Unremarkable, I know, except if you note what's not there …



The Sunday New York Times, in its blue, plastic bag. It was stolen — again! This is the second time in four weeks that it was lifted by one of my neighbors or some high-brow passerby who spied it through the street entrance's window.

The Sunday Times, all 7,000 pages of it, is one of the things that gets me out of bed Sunday morning. And when it's not there, it rocks the axis of my very existence. In short, dear friends, I was annoyed.

I've devised an idea to prevent this from happening in the future: Booby traps. Indeed, they would require me to get up early, go downstairs, set them up, and return before the thief attempts his or her heist, which seems to lead to the question "Why don't you just pick it up earlier and save yourself the trouble?"

Well, why don't you just go about your own life letting paper-stealing street urchins walk all over you? Me, I'm a vengeful man. (I modeled myself after God in the Old Testament.) And it's time they feel the wrath of the strange man in Apt. 5.

THE TRAPS

The George-W.-Bush-Nuculer-Weapon-of-Mass-Destruction trap!


Scorpion trap!


Bengal-tiger trap!


Portal-to-a-parallel-universe trap!

Yes, the traps vary and some are easier to pull off than others, but they're all effective. If you came downstairs with the intention of stealing your neighbor's Sunday Times and encountered a Bengal tiger or a portal to a parallel universe, would you still go for it? No way. And if you did, the world is better off without you.

In Sight, Nov. 4

Beacon Hill.

(I'm going to update the hell out of this blog tomorrow. I promise.)