Opening Ceremonies, Open Wounds

You gotta hand it to the Chinese. When it comes to spectacle, they’re the best in the world.

The Games of the XXIX Olympiad opened at 08:08:08 on 08/08/08 (did I mention that the number 8 is considered to be lucky in Asian cultures?) and it was the most interesting and visually stimulating opening ceremonies ever.

I can still see the 2,008 drummers all moving, yelling and striking their drums with the precision of a synchronized swim team. It was stirring entertainment.

And yes, you can fault the Chinese government for their controlling policies, their human rights deficiencies, and their virtual strangulation of Tibet.

But sometimes you’ve even got to give the devil its due for staging a spectacle that should have the organizers of the 2010 Winter  Olympics in Vancouver wondering what they can do for an encore.

Take my advice, Canucks, don’t even try. Go the complete opposite way — Neil Young, solo, on acoustic guitar.

My New York: The Proper Chocolate Egg Cream

We all have our own New York. The New York of our youth, or the one we’ve adopted. The one we love or the one we hate. You’re welcome to yours, but my New York is the real New York (note the New York attitude). From time to time I’ll deign to share some of my New York with you.

My New York: The Egg Cream

Also known as the Chocolate Egg Cream, it contains neither egg nor cream (“tawk amongst yerselves”), and is proffered as the quintessential NYC beverage. It is also the one whose simple recipe is most often passed along as gospel — incorrectly.

The ingredients are simple: milk, chocolate syrup (more on that later) and seltzer (ditto). The trick is in the execution.

First up, the ingredients:

  • Milk (whole milk, please, as close to the kind the milk man used to deliver to our doorstep left in those utilitarian metal boxes)
  • Chocolate syrup: You want a real NY Egg Cream? Fox’s U-Bet syrup is what you need. No, it’s not the best on the market, it’s a bit runny and has an inconsistent texture at times, but we’re talkin’ real Lower East Side Egg Creams here — not some fancy white-bread suburban version.
  • Seltzer. Yes, Seltzer. Not Club Soda. Not Perrier or club soda or even Pelligrino =:o Seltzer (preferably in the fountain-head bottle)

The big mistake people make (and others swear by) is in the order of the ingredients. They typically say (yes, even the “experts”): Milk, syrup, seltzer and then stir. No. No, no, no, no! This does not produce an egg cream! It produces a chocolate soda with milk – blech!

Now, the correct method:

Milk (about a 1/2 inch of the glass)

Seltzer, until about an inch from the top of the glass

The carbonation will cause a white creamy head to rise to the top (leave the spoon in the glass!)

Then, carefully, slowly, with precision, pour the Fox’s U-Bet into the glass – pour it just inside the edge of the glass; do not disturb the creamy white head!

Slowly stir the syrup in the milk, causing the bottom section of the drink to be brown, while maintaining the creamy white foamy head on top.

You see, it’s all about the head. It needs to be fluffy and white — reminiscent of meringue created from beaten egg whites (hence the egg reference).

Note: Even Fox’s recipe for an egg cream on its web site is wrong. It emphasizes the chocolate (as we say in French, ‘Quelle surprise’) and not the cream.

If you are ever offered an egg cream and the head is an everything-mixed-together sticky-brown — throw it in the face of the one who committed the blasphemous act of giving it to you.

Tell ’em Ron, from New York city, says “Hi”

Dead ‘Running Man’ Walking

In 1994 I bought my first computer, a Compaq Presario running Windows 3.1 with 500K of storage, a tiny amount of RAM, and a ridiculously slow 4800 baud dial-up modem.

Thus, a second career in online media was born.

The PC came with free trial versions of several Internet portals (did we call them portals back then?) such as Prodigy, Genie, ImagiNation, Compuserve, and (of course) America Online. And so I joined them all. As each trial period drew to a close, I dropped them one-by-one until there was only one left — AOL. It was version 1.1 and it had about 350K members at the time. Why did I keep that one? In a word — Community.

I was amazed at being able to interact with people from all over the country from my house in New Jersey. I got hooked on ‘The Game Parlor’ — a chat area of AOL where we would play online trivia and word games. It became, for me, “appointment computing”, as I knew each Saturday night at midnight there would be a crazy TV Trivia game with my buddies Kitteridge, Zazz, GoldenChild, HalliesDad, Catberi, Luv2Shag and the rest. People who, had we met in real life, I may never have given a second glance — or them to me.

But online community was the great equalizer. I used to say (before the fancy text mod tools came out) that, “Online, we’re all black and white and 10 points tall.” AOL was the leader in Community, and while working there for over 10 years (another story for another entry) it was Community that differentiated us from the competition. The old rivals from the mid-90’s faded away. New attempts to do “community” online were made, but never equaled AOL’s presence. Even within the company, community was alternately embraced and rejected several times over.

Yesterday, the last of the Mohicans Community professionals were shown the door. Since I left last October, Jen, Chris, Kenny, Joe (2), Kelly , Nancie, Bill and many others moved on to other (better?) things. Suz, Erin (2) and the rest officially put an end to AOL Community as we knew it, and with it an end to online community done right. I am saddened by the waste of it all, the mismanagement by corporate ownership that caused a thriving force to wither and die on the vine cable.

Oh well, maybe now Keith Haring can stop spinning in his grave and get his running man back.

Thanks for the Meme-ories

My first meme (of this iteration!) I’d like to blame this on someone, perhaps fellow bloggers (“Ich bin ein blogger!”) Erin, Maria or Suzie, but the truth is I lifted it from them.

This mosaic of twelve photos represents me, or so says this meme:

1. My first name.
2. My favorite style of food.
3. My high school.
4. My favorite color.
5. My celebrity crush.
6. Favorite drink.
7. Dream vacation.
8. Favorite dessert.
9. What I want to be when I grow up.
10. What I love most in life.
11. One word to describe me.
12. My Grandmother’s first name.

For you graphically challenged, the answers are:

1. The sign the girl’s holding is a Weealeyian “I’m with Ron”; 2. Italian (of course); 3. Archbishop Molloy (that’s really it); 4. Gray (everything’s a shade of it); 5. Keira Knightley (and daily, too); 6. Rum & Coke; 7. Paris (France, not Texas); 8. Ice cream! (the chocolate souflee is a bonus); 9. A flawed superhero (I’m halfway there); 10. The fam, of course; 11. Crazy. (o/~…you know we’re never gonna survive… unles.. we get a little crazy…o/~); 12. May (maypole, get it?)

Your turn!

(From Erin)

  • Enter your answers into Flickr search.
  • Paste the URLs into this nifty mosaic maker.
  • Discover thyself in images.

To Blog, or Not to Blog

To Blog or Not TO BLog So maybe you’re thinking, “Why is this guy starting up this blog again, here?” Good question. You see, I was part of the team that launched AOL Journals — AOL’s version of blogs — and so had an active one for a while. Like many of us, I kind of let it lapse, only jumping back in to mark the tragic passing of a former co-worker. And then I walked away once more. But I didn’t really walk away from blogs — just blogging. Let me explain. So many of my friends had blogs (both on AOL and elsewhere) and I spent many hours reading them on a daily basis. Frequently, I left the clever comment behind in my wake. And that’s my second evolution of blogging — commenting. I used to joke that I was part of a new section of blogger — the blogmenter — the person who made you all feel good that somebody was out there, cared about what you had written, and helped the conversation along. Then one day someone I followed asked the question, “Are you a blogger?” I felt that I was and so I explained my theory about the blogmenter and its value, and so I said that yeah, I’m a blogger. “Myth!”, came the retort. “You are not a blogger if you don’t have your own active blog!” And so here I am. Writing to right the wrongs so righteously flung my way. “Ich bin ein blogger!”