Want an Earworm?
I just saw a tiny bit of Anchorman again, and now I have "Afternoon Delight" stuck in my head. In that I tend to whistle between my teeth when I'm alone and not really paying attention to myself, I bet my across-the-way neighbors now also have "Afternoon Delight" stuck in their heads. And you, now that I have mentioned the song, are softly singing "Gonna find my baby gonna hold her - DAMMIT" (that "DAMMIT" was not softly sung, but instead yelled in a grumbly baritone).
I'm like the Typhoid Mary of Bad 70's Music Earworms. Anyone up for a little "Wildfire"?
Speaking of 70's songs*, I was walkin along Central Park South today, rockin out to my ipod (on the inside), and there's this woman in front of me walking at a pace that would more befit a tiny geriatric in heels. From what I can tell of her from behind, she's not pushing 80, but she ambles about the pavement as if she were avoiding goose poop** and it's Holding Me Up. I don't have anywhere to be, so I put up with the wandering for a little while, but after a half-long-block, I side step her and stride ahead (hopefully suggesting in my walk the sentiment "I have nothing against you, but your walk pace disagreed with my own. Do not allow my actions to be seen as walk-pace-censure." I like for my body language to be polite). As soon as I lap her, I notice that she looks super-familiar but I really can't place her for a moment. Then the group of tourists that are consulting a map on the corner start rushing towards us, asking "Ms. Simon" if they can take a photo with her.
I have nothing against Carly Simon, but as the only Carly Simon song I know is "You're So Vain" and I'm kinda meh about it (clouds in my coffee? does that phrase really need to be repeated?), I decided to be super-NY and just keep walking. I'm no oogling yokel.
Unless it were Mos Def, either White Stripe, or any other artist for whom I have respect and a tiny interest in seeing how tall s/he is IRL. Then I'll muster up a brief oogle and then pretend to be trying to read a street sign with my patented wow-i-need-glasses squint (squint + furrowed brow + slightly open mouth does the trick).
I'm so smooth.
As I polished off the Guggenheim and the NYPLibrary today, I will be heading over to Lincoln Center tomorrow and the environs. Now to find all relevant shoe shops within a 2 mile radius of Lincoln Center. Everyone take a little time out to appreciate the marvel that is the internet. 10 years ago I would have had to consult a phone book or something equally lame and smudgy. Hurray for Al Gore!
*look at that segue! It's a thing of beauty, folks. Me rite good today, ma.
** I often must avoid goose poop when out for a stroll/jog. If only goose poop were good for something, like curing lupus or cleaning rust stains. But no, the sole purpose of goose poop is to make you work on your running-while-looking-down-and-zig-zagging skills, a skill only useful for avoiding goose poop. Actually, it helps you avoid poop of all kinds. But as I have quickly gotten from interesting sidenote to straight-no-chaser-brain-ramble, I ask you to politely return to the main text. We were just learning about the ambling non-octegenarian...
I'm like the Typhoid Mary of Bad 70's Music Earworms. Anyone up for a little "Wildfire"?
Speaking of 70's songs*, I was walkin along Central Park South today, rockin out to my ipod (on the inside), and there's this woman in front of me walking at a pace that would more befit a tiny geriatric in heels. From what I can tell of her from behind, she's not pushing 80, but she ambles about the pavement as if she were avoiding goose poop** and it's Holding Me Up. I don't have anywhere to be, so I put up with the wandering for a little while, but after a half-long-block, I side step her and stride ahead (hopefully suggesting in my walk the sentiment "I have nothing against you, but your walk pace disagreed with my own. Do not allow my actions to be seen as walk-pace-censure." I like for my body language to be polite). As soon as I lap her, I notice that she looks super-familiar but I really can't place her for a moment. Then the group of tourists that are consulting a map on the corner start rushing towards us, asking "Ms. Simon" if they can take a photo with her.
I have nothing against Carly Simon, but as the only Carly Simon song I know is "You're So Vain" and I'm kinda meh about it (clouds in my coffee? does that phrase really need to be repeated?), I decided to be super-NY and just keep walking. I'm no oogling yokel.
Unless it were Mos Def, either White Stripe, or any other artist for whom I have respect and a tiny interest in seeing how tall s/he is IRL. Then I'll muster up a brief oogle and then pretend to be trying to read a street sign with my patented wow-i-need-glasses squint (squint + furrowed brow + slightly open mouth does the trick).
I'm so smooth.
As I polished off the Guggenheim and the NYPLibrary today, I will be heading over to Lincoln Center tomorrow and the environs. Now to find all relevant shoe shops within a 2 mile radius of Lincoln Center. Everyone take a little time out to appreciate the marvel that is the internet. 10 years ago I would have had to consult a phone book or something equally lame and smudgy. Hurray for Al Gore!
*look at that segue! It's a thing of beauty, folks. Me rite good today, ma.
** I often must avoid goose poop when out for a stroll/jog. If only goose poop were good for something, like curing lupus or cleaning rust stains. But no, the sole purpose of goose poop is to make you work on your running-while-looking-down-and-zig-zagging skills, a skill only useful for avoiding goose poop. Actually, it helps you avoid poop of all kinds. But as I have quickly gotten from interesting sidenote to straight-no-chaser-brain-ramble, I ask you to politely return to the main text. We were just learning about the ambling non-octegenarian...
posted by julia at
12:34 AM
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