Tag Archives: New York magazine

Holy guacamole!


Off you go, avocado.

According to New York Magazine, the drought in California is making you more scarce.  Which means you’re getting mega-pricey. And restaurants may be less likely to include you on every dish on their menu.


You see, I am the rare breed that doesn’t like avocados.  To my tongue, they are bland mush, and I prefer not to add bland mush to my salad or sandwich.

I am concerned about the water shortage. It’s a very serious situation, and especially on Earth Day, we need to stop and think about ways to be more frugal in our water consumption.

But fewer avocados on the menu?

That’s my silver lining,  peeps.

Robo Cop

Dear New York magazine:

In your October 24th issue you ask, “Who is the toughest robot in the nerd universe?

A nerd myself, I surveyed with great interest your detailed chart on display,  featuring metal men ranging from C-3PO to Wall-E to Iron Giant to Tik-Tok.

With the help of researchers from the Robotics Institute at Carnegie Mellon University, you crowned as ultimate nerd robot…

Optimus Prime, of Transformers fame

I’m not a fan of the movie, but the robot is pretty bad-ass…so I’m not disputing his right to the title.

My beef?

The world’s coolest robot skeleton being left out of the mix.

Geoff Peterson of the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson

Sure, he’s scrawny, only has one working arm and no lower extremities.  But his ballsy personality alone would have Optimus Prime eating out of the palm of his hand.

The one that works.

So, keep asking the tough questions, New York mag.  Just don’t make them multiple-choice until you know your nerds better.

Careful, Icarus.

Making faces

Poor celebrities. We just can’t seem to leave them alone.

So why start now?

I discovered this website via a tweet from the Vulture, New York Magazine’s entertainment and culture blog:

And that’s exactly what it is — pics of celebrities that have been Photoshopped so we can see what they look like without eyebrows.

Vulnerable. Alien. Ridiculous.

Depending on how you feel about at it, it’s either mean-spirited or good, clean fun. (I vote fun.) And to show that I am willing to take what I dish out — or erase in this case — here is how I look both with and without eyebrows:



Well..there’s egg on my face!

Nose knows

The December 20th issue of New York magazine chronicles “Reasons to Love New York.”  The editors compile the list annually, and it’s one of my favorite editions.  They never seem to run out of unique reasons to heart my adopted hometown.

I concur.

Reason #16 caught my eye this year…

We’re home to not only the publishing industry, but also to a woman who spends her days smelling books.

The headline is a bit misleading.  Rachael Morrison’s full-time job at MOMA is artist, not book sniffer.  That became her lunchtime habit six months ago when she became concerned that the smell of books — one of her favorite things — would eventually die away in this increasingly digital age.

So, she made smelling books and recording their scents her personal quest. Her list of 150 books to date includes sense memories like “armpit,” “dog poop,” and “cigar smoke and tea.”

Rachael has always loved the smell of books.  I have to admit, I hadn’t given the subject too much thought. Now I wonder — has the smell of a book ever subliminally affected my enjoyment of it?

Did I read it faster because it smelled good…or bad?  Did I stop reading it altogether and blame the author, when it was actually the pages’ odor that was the culprit?

I should start a new book today.  With my cold/flu/sinus infection — whatever it is — I can’t smell a thing and will be objective about what I’m reading.

Book critics of the world, take note.

NYC saves

In the most recent issue of New York magazine — which features Jon Stewart mugging on the cover — a sidebar stat jumped out at me more than any feature story could.

It compared suicide rates nationally versus those in New York City.  (The percentages quoted were per 100,000 population.)

Nation:  11.4 %

New York City 5.7%

(The numbers for Manhattan drop to 5.2% if you take away the out-of-towners who come to our lovely metropolis to off themselves.)

Surprised?  I certainly was.  I think we all assume that city living is more stressful, and higher stress leads to more thoughts — and acts — of ending it all.

And then you see these numbers.

But then — maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.  Because even if New Yorkers think about ending it all, there is so much here to distract us from taking that final step!

Having a bad day?  You can go see a Broadway show!

Is your job is driving you insane?  Walk home through Central Park or just sit along the Hudson River and you’ll feel instantly renewed.

Life can seems meaningless and without merit…and then you have the opportunity to hear a great writer speak or witness an amazing piece of artwork up close and personal.  Even when your world seems small and claustrophobic, you can look around and see the diversity and beauty that is New York City.  I’m sure that fact alone saves people every day.

Oh…and Jon Stewart.  He keeps us going as well.

I object

Why do I have to be wrong for you to be right?

I’ll tell you why.  At our core, we are all judgers.  That’s judgers, judgers, judgers.

From the first moment we see someone — whether in person, in a photo, or in a Youtube video — we dissect their looks, voice, dress and actions, and in a matter of seconds, decide whether they are worthy of our time.

It’s a wonder we have any friends at all.

Now, obviously, there are some people who pass our test. The men featured in the 2009 Sexiest Man Alive issue of People magazine were judged exceptionally attractive by a national panel of editors.  There has also been an obsessive frenzy surrounding the stars of the “Twilight” movie franchise. Those actors have been judged worthy of their fans’ time, attention and somewhat scary mania.

But probably most fascinating to me is how quick people are to judge other people who like something that they don’t.

The “Twilight” movies are a great example. The fans of this franchise have been practically demonized by those who haven’t read the books or seen the movies.  The Comments page of this week’s New York magazine was brutal.  One reader said of the Twilight moms: “Their poor children, and their poor husbands! I wish they’d get some perspective and see how sad they really look.”

Wow.  There’s some judging going on there.

Why can’t people just be different?  Or think differently?  Or, god forbid, like different things?

Why do they have to be inherently wrong?

We say ‘live and let live,’ but as a society, we don’t practice what we preach.  What we really mean to say is,  ‘let me live the way I want, and you live my way, too…’cause if you live or think differently or enjoy different things, that’s wrong.’

Now, “Twilight” isn’t the most important issue in the world — believe me, I know.  But it’s also not the most deadly, god-awful, dangerous book ever written.  Teenage girls and their families are exposed to more controversial things on episodes of “Gossip Girl” — can you say three-way? — so I find it interesting that people are trash-talking a very old-fashioned romance with vampires.

If you don’t like the series, that’s fine.  That’s your choice. But other people liking it isn’t wrong…it’s simply their choice.

So, stop your judging.  That’s right.  I’m looking at you.  Judger.

That’s judger, judger, judger.