Evening mass.

Unknown church on Broadway; somewhere between 14th and 8th Streets.

Why do I even bother with this place?

This was not why I came to Macy's.

I swung by the Devil's Retail Playground tonight on a quest for the perfect white French cuff shirt. There's a wedding coming up this weekend and, well, I need a new white shirt. More on that later if/when I find it. The point of this message is to warn all spring allergy victims to avoid Macy's.

Avoid it like you avoid Black Friday.

If the ground floor wasn't hectic already, it seems as if the flower district moved a few blocks north and rooted (ha!) itself here. And there were caged birds. And water installations. Awful. Simply awful.

But a decent photo-opp.



Name these flowers and win something awesome.

More than sandwiches and smokes.

For the normal day-to-day, bodegas are clutch - the horse that never loses. Twenty four hours a day, where else can you find a pack of smokes, baby diapers, a killer sandwich, and yes, flowers? Deli flowers last for days and are sans the God-awful box.

Slow Sunday

On Sunday, the party split up - one to the west coast, one stayed east. Judging by this picture, it's easy to figure out where I spent my Sunday.

I meandered around D.C. with an old friend. Brunch, tourist traps, the whole 9. Although I must say, the conversation that proceeded helped to melt the crowds of incessant picture takers (worse than me, can you believe it?) into a silent mush around us.

"It's called the Metro."

UPDATE: "It's called Metro. There's no the."

Noted.


It is no secret that I take too many pictures underground. Combine my hobby of people watching with the fact that my attention span is oftentimes shorter than the wait for the next train and what you get is a wandering camera lens.

I was in D.C. this weekend and experienced their Metro for the first time. Of course my camera was with me, and of course this has to be PotD. My thoughts on the subway Metro?

• Cleaner than New York
• More punctual than Philly
• Faster than Chicago
• Anything's better than Boston

My biased self still prefers New York's system for its fare simplicity; but then again maybe if we had a costs-more-the-farther-you-travel system the MTA wouldn't be up to its proverbial eyeballs in debt.

Additional shots have been/will be uploaded here.

Joker tested, rider approved.

I noticed two kids snapping photos of this sign while waiting for uptown 6. Bahhh, tourists. Or so I thought.


Clearly, this is not one of the normal signs depicting the 48,493 weekly construction changes. Clearly, this was hilarious.

And then I realized that the joke was on us, all of us. Here comes the $100 monthly metro card.

This photo cost a buck.

I remember the first time I had a subway churro. I was between transfers with a friend, maneuvering the heavy weekend crowd that infests midtown retail stores. We were lugging bags of who-knows-what after a day of shopping for God-only-knows. We trekked past a young guy manning a shopping cart of Churros on the Queens-bound side of the platform. I paused, turned to my friend, and wondered out loud...

Have you ever had a Churro?
Not from a shopping cart. Do you think they're any good?
I don't know, isn't most street meat good?
We are neither on the street nor are Churro's made of meat.
Well that settles it.

One dollar and two sets of sugary fingers later we were munching on KMart-branded Churros. And you know what? Not half bad. A little on the buttery side, but when has that ever been a bad thing?


This Churro pusher refused to stand by her cart when I started taking pictures. It was only after dropping a GW on her product that she realized I wasn't with the city permit department.

The trees of the city.

I started this blog to capture the everyday, whatever and wherever that might be. In the year that this little project has progressed, my subjects have varied; with the exception of one. Well, more than one.

Her and him. You and me.

Which is weird, considering my unabashed support of the age-old sport of people watching. At first I chalked it up to wanting to capture life's inanimate side. But really, I'm finding that redundant. Life is life because of the people - both well known and stranger - that wash through the everyday. New York is New York because of it's people. Trees make the forest; people make the city.

Really though, the lack of people caught on camera (candid or otherwise) is due to my amateurish skill set. I find it borderline creepy to take pictures of strangers. But I think it's time to try and break out. I want to push my comfort zone a little farther than I'm used to. Hopefully the result will be a more intimate look at the daily.

Leather jackets, outside Macy's.

Whatever comes of this, still don't bet the farm on me ever showing up here. This and that were pushing it. Behind the camera I'll remain.

Monday morning.

Just another job. Just another commute. The difference between yours and mine?


I look up.

Bryant Park livens up.

Skipping out Sunday work in the office and en route to Penn Station for a last-minute trip home, I cut through Bryant Park hoping it'd be alive. And alive it was.



I've been here before. Many, many times. And I'll be back; less camera and more company next time, perhaps.

April better not disappoint.

Beers and a city garden. T-shirts and a need for sunscreen. We're definitely getting a tease of spring this weekend. Not a terrible day for outdoor conversation.




And neither was the evening. I caught up with my old roommates R&M at their place in Soho. Their private backyard patio was the perfect setting for the first warm weekend to come to a close. Yuenglings and catch-up.

42nd & Madison, looking east.

Arguably one of the best visuals in the city.



Southeast corner of 42nd and Madison. Put your headphones on to block out the tourists and pubic accountants crossing paths.

Be there at night.

Grand Central holds its own, surrounded by its taller neighbors. Chrysler gleams white and silver - as always - in the backdrop. Compliments, not competition for one another.

Stand there for a minute and tell me that the 14 hour work day isn't worth it.

If only it was that easy.

Rice to Riches. Decadent. 'Nuff said.

Not your everyday midtown dress code.

A lot of people wear green on St. Patrick's Day, regardless of their ties to the land of Guiness (romantic, hereditary, or otherwise). But this guy - well - I hope he wasn't in your office.

Reflected water.

Reflection in hotel glass.

Make the light.

We all do it. On the way to work; running late for appointment or dinner XYZed; last minute run to the grocery store. Whatevs. You can make the light.


Glance uptown. Psssh, I've got this.

Or

Holllllllld up, here comes the next wave of cars.

And if it's a double sign like the ones showing face all over town, definitely make a dash for it.

I was that guy, but for good reason.

I've been that guy before. But once again out of what I believed to be complete justification, I had no problem being another that guy today. No, I'm not talking about another shoe switch. I'm referring to that guy with the over-sized golf umbrella on the sidewalk. Yeah, that guy.

Today was a continuation of yesterday's meteorologic Armageddon. And after yesterday crushed the remaining life out of my umbrella, I had no choice but to use the lone stormy weapon in my repertoire; the golf umbrella. Much like the one my mother used at the elementary school bus stop to keep Ted, myself, and a dozen other academics dry on wet mornings (not to mention the occasional diorama), mine was red, white, and friggin' HUGE.

For those that have walked with me in stormy weather (obvious metaphor not withstanding), you know how I am. Poor umbrella etiquette is on my top five of city pet peeves (up there as well would be dogs and/or children on leases longer than six feet, the city max). I will comment under my breath about someone's poor umbrella usage, regardless of size. A considerate umbrella-ite will raise and lower as necessary. Gentleman, show courtesy to the ladies.

FWIW, if the weather continues like it's been, I might be forced to bring back the rain watch of ohhhh nine.

May flowers should be here next week.

Goodbye February snow, hello April showers monsoons.

Wait, what month is it?

Today's weather was one of those wicked storms that simply sucks, and there is absolutely no other word to accurately describe it. Today's rain went left, right, and right up everyone's pants. Umbrellas were futile and only added to the excess drip-age everywhere once inside.

But no, seriously. What the eff is with today's storms. There were MOATS on every street corner, and I believe I saw a young man trying to hail a cab from the safety and comfort of a canoe.

Sorry, the camera card was full for that one.

Beware of the dog!

Yes, I googled it.

Time to gear up.

Spring should be here sooner than later, right?

There's something about this bike/sign combination, buried in snow, that I found really poignant. Makes me miss my bike of old.

Family favorites.

This probably looks like chaos, and to a degree it was. Winesday's theme of Bring the Food of Your People loosely inspired a round table of epic storytelling. My submissions were three K classicswere three stories from my past; an amuse of Kix, camping 101 stories, and of course the day I choked on a hot dog.

Details on said stories will be shared over cold beers. Time and company to be determined.

This is why we use cellphones.

Enroute to the pharmacy I pass this gentleman underground. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk was this metal grate hiked up with the aforementioned Verizon worker hunkered over Alexander Graham Bell's first switchboard.

There's that saying, "they don't make them like they used to." Well in this case, thank goodness that's the case.

Regardless of spelling...

...it made for an excellent frash pizza.

13.1 miles of photo-taking.

Up early and in New Jersey for a half marathon today. What was my time, you ask? HA.

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Consider me the photographic, sometimes accompanied by a vocal shout kind of support. Sure, I could post pictures of sweaty, down-trodden runners - but why would you want to see that?!

Here are a few pictures I took while wandering around the NJ hillsides.

Not quite spring.

The temperatures have been teasing us lately. Warm nights. Cold lunch hours. The flowers aren't here just yet, so this subway art will just have to do for now.

New day, new job.

Back to the grind.

I started a new job today. I can't quite call it my new job or my new career just yet. But it's a job. Back to a routine...a schedule for Monday through Friday. Expectations, gripes, and happy hours. Early mornings, coffee & a bagel from the corner cart. Late nights with empty subway rides home.

I really hope there are happy hours.

Winesday has a birthday.

And a dance party.



Red brought cake, MS gave us a reason to have cake, and the rest of us brought wine. Happy Winesday.

I want one.

Not this one per-say, but commmmmmme onnnnnnnnnn. This hairy, smelly, slobber machine of an animal...just LOOK AT HIM!

One year in the books.

So here we are. It's been a year since I started this little project. There were a few breaks in the game (like the month of October...I swear I'll post it sometime soon), sure, but I held true to the concept. Fun more times than not; challenging at others, this little project has been more rewarding than I imagined it could be.

Many of you have been a part of the stories, pictures and links included within these pages; thanks for stopping by and sharing your stories with me.

Here's to another day caught.