Enough formatting problems, text glitches, and software bugs! Mulberry Street is moving...to Mulberry Street.
I'm leaving blogspot (a decision which perhaps I should have at least slept on) and moving my blog to mulberrystreet.wordpress.com.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Eire, part 1
In a first for me, I've decided to publish entries from my travel journal on Mulberry Street. To round out the witty and insightful text, I'll include some of my own illustrations from the journal as well as a few examples of stunning photography.
Here's the cover page from the Ireland section of the journal. Overall I was pleased with the aesthetics of the page, though in retrospect I wouldn't have placed the ship so close to Fungie the dolphin (about whom you will read in future posts). Also, I really didn't need to draw the big lake in Northern Ireland. It seems to be just a strange, off-centered circle around the word Belfast. You can see that I went with my med school buddy DavidO and our literarily present companion Rick Steves.
A pictorial calendar of the trip follows. I ran out of ink in my regular ball-point pen, so later posts (and later details added to the calendar) are in the gel-ink pen. Things to notice on this page are that even though I've lived in Texas for 27 years (!), I still cannot draw the state. And my American Airlines eagle is fatter than the original. The car you see drawn in the calendar is our rented Mitsubishi Colt, affectionately known as "The Colt."
And in one of my more fanciful bird's-eye views (note abstract art-deco sun and sea monster), I detailed my path to LaGuardia and the plane's trip over the northern edge of Manhattan.
I know what you're thinking. "Wow, if you were sitting on the left side of the plane, you'd really get some good views of the island!" That's right. Don't think I'm not aware of that. I always try to sit on the left side of the plane both going to and leaving from LaGuardia, for views such as these. For you, Reader. For you. And now, the journal...
Here's the cover page from the Ireland section of the journal. Overall I was pleased with the aesthetics of the page, though in retrospect I wouldn't have placed the ship so close to Fungie the dolphin (about whom you will read in future posts). Also, I really didn't need to draw the big lake in Northern Ireland. It seems to be just a strange, off-centered circle around the word Belfast. You can see that I went with my med school buddy DavidO and our literarily present companion Rick Steves.
A pictorial calendar of the trip follows. I ran out of ink in my regular ball-point pen, so later posts (and later details added to the calendar) are in the gel-ink pen. Things to notice on this page are that even though I've lived in Texas for 27 years (!), I still cannot draw the state. And my American Airlines eagle is fatter than the original. The car you see drawn in the calendar is our rented Mitsubishi Colt, affectionately known as "The Colt."
And in one of my more fanciful bird's-eye views (note abstract art-deco sun and sea monster), I detailed my path to LaGuardia and the plane's trip over the northern edge of Manhattan.
I know what you're thinking. "Wow, if you were sitting on the left side of the plane, you'd really get some good views of the island!" That's right. Don't think I'm not aware of that. I always try to sit on the left side of the plane both going to and leaving from LaGuardia, for views such as these. For you, Reader. For you. And now, the journal...
"We're now in the air. As can be seen from my diagram, the flight path took us over the Bronx. As I sat in my seat when first boarding, I was disappointed to be on the right side of hte plane--the photo I'd given to William and Katherine [as a going away gift from New York] had been taken from the left side of a plane en route from LaGuardia to Minnesota. 'Excuse me....excuse me!' a voice broke into my daydreams. 'I think you're in my seat.' Sure enough, I'd inadvertently sat in seat 12F rather than 12A.
"My new window seat afforded some amazing views of Manhattan--magically lit in the late afternoon sun, its rivers and the reservoir glittering in the light, its buildings rising between shadow-shrouded canyons.
"The George Washington Bridge arched gracefully in its mile-span across the Hudson River...
"...the little green dome of Fort Tryon Park rose gently in far north Manhattan...
"...and the spires of Midtown and the Financial District added contour, like push pins mimicking a relief below. Here was a city at rest; here was my home."
So there is entry number 1. Just for fun, here's another series of aerial shots of Manhattan. Worth a quick look.
How "on the go" changes us
The April 12 issue of The Economist had an outstanding special report called "Nomads at last." It examined the sociological implications of mobile technology like cellular phones, BlackBerrys, Wi-Fi hotspots, the ubiquity of the internet, etc.
While there is much to say regarding the technology itself, the report focused on how these devices change where and how we work, how we construct buildings, how we build cities, how we drive, how we relate to family and strangers, and how we use language.
The free online version can be found here. The webpage that comes up is merely the first article in the special report. Click on "next article" at the bottom for continued reading.
Read it. You will be a better person for it.
While there is much to say regarding the technology itself, the report focused on how these devices change where and how we work, how we construct buildings, how we build cities, how we drive, how we relate to family and strangers, and how we use language.
The free online version can be found here. The webpage that comes up is merely the first article in the special report. Click on "next article" at the bottom for continued reading.
Read it. You will be a better person for it.
Monday, April 28, 2008
The Age of Turbulence
While my elderly first patient of the day took a quick trip to the lavatory before I brought her back to the operating room, I noticed her husband was reading Alan Greenspan's recent book, The Age of Turbulence. The avid Mulberry Street reader will remember this book from my November 19, 2007, post in which I repeated a reviewer's remarks, "...nobody ever accused Mr Greenspan of being a lively speaker, let alone a born storyteller, and no reviewer could approach this volume with anything but a heavy heart and a sense of duty."I commented to the husband on the book, and before I could repeat the clever phrase from the review, the husband said, "Oh yes, we're good friends with Alan."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
When I was looking for a picture for this post, I ran across this one of a younger Alan Greenspan. This was taken probably some 30 years ago, back when he was 80.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Another blog
On the blog English Fail, I saw a funny post. The blog features pictures of grammatical mistakes seen by various grammarians who submit photos. (And for those of you who are worried about me, I do not spend most of my free time looking at grammar blogs. I do not have a problem.)
This picture had a warning sign,
One person left commented that it had a haiku-like cadence. As for me, it reminds me of Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night."
This picture had a warning sign,
BEWARE!!!
BRIGHT LIGHTS
DO NOT LOOK
DIRECTLY INTO THEM!
One person left commented that it had a haiku-like cadence. As for me, it reminds me of Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night."
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
One Ireland Have I Loved
Unfortunately my posting has not been as regular on this vacation as last year's London trip. So far, it's been a great time abroad; I've really enjoyed the time in the countryside, particularly rustic Dingle Penninsula on the far western edge of Europe.
The title of my post is a tongue-in-cheek title I have planned for my memoirs of this trip. I plan to include several lines of Gaelic poetry as well. So far, all I have is, "Green, green are the meadows/Blue, blue is the sky/I like Guinness."
Some better poetry I have been reminded of several times as we drive through the countryside is that of Ireland's famous son, W.B. Yeats:
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And make a small cabin there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
and evening's full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavement grey,
I hear it to the heart's core.
In just a few short days there's already far too much to write in one post. I will say, however, that the weather has been phenomenal. Perhaps slightly warmer than New York this time of year, with a couple soft afternoon rains but still plenty of sunshine. The dark rain clouds with the sun peeking out have made for plenty absolutely gorgeous photo opportunities at ancient ruins and country manors, as well as many a rainbow sighting, though nary a pot of gold.
I've also enjoyed the warmth of the Irish people, who seem a bit reserved on first meeting, though are generally friendly and even boisterous after a pint.
The title of my post is a tongue-in-cheek title I have planned for my memoirs of this trip. I plan to include several lines of Gaelic poetry as well. So far, all I have is, "Green, green are the meadows/Blue, blue is the sky/I like Guinness."
Some better poetry I have been reminded of several times as we drive through the countryside is that of Ireland's famous son, W.B. Yeats:
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And make a small cabin there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
and evening's full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavement grey,
I hear it to the heart's core.
In just a few short days there's already far too much to write in one post. I will say, however, that the weather has been phenomenal. Perhaps slightly warmer than New York this time of year, with a couple soft afternoon rains but still plenty of sunshine. The dark rain clouds with the sun peeking out have made for plenty absolutely gorgeous photo opportunities at ancient ruins and country manors, as well as many a rainbow sighting, though nary a pot of gold.
I've also enjoyed the warmth of the Irish people, who seem a bit reserved on first meeting, though are generally friendly and even boisterous after a pint.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Irritating patient
Patient: What is the risk of infection with this surgery?
Me: About 1%.
Patient: Why isn't it zero?
Me: 1% is a lot better than it used to be.
Patient, in accusative tone: By why is it still 1%? Where does the infection come from?
Me: Look, I'm the one who gives you antibiotics before the surgery. The surgeons are the ones who cut you open and put their hands inside. You can ask them.
Okay, I wasn't quite that brusque. But it feels good to write the story that way. Turns out she did ask the neurosurgery resident, and his response was, "Why do planes crash?"
Perhaps not the most appropriate rhetorical question to ask a patient immediately before surgery.
Me: About 1%.
Patient: Why isn't it zero?
Me: 1% is a lot better than it used to be.
Patient, in accusative tone: By why is it still 1%? Where does the infection come from?
Me: Look, I'm the one who gives you antibiotics before the surgery. The surgeons are the ones who cut you open and put their hands inside. You can ask them.
Okay, I wasn't quite that brusque. But it feels good to write the story that way. Turns out she did ask the neurosurgery resident, and his response was, "Why do planes crash?"
Perhaps not the most appropriate rhetorical question to ask a patient immediately before surgery.
Actually...
Dr W, adressing my class of second-year residents: So, what do you make of this arterial blood gas drawn from the newborn premature infant?
Joe: This is not compatible with life in any human being.
Dr W: Actually, I lifted the numbers from a textbook. They represent normal values for a newborn premie. But I like your confidence!
Monday, March 31, 2008
A near flub...
...appears in the February 23 edition of The Economist, in an article that addresses the split in Hamas' leadership:
"Yet even the pragmatists, currently seeking a deal with Israel that would comprise a ceasefire, an exchange of prisoners and a formula for opening the border crossing to Egypt, shy from the kind of concessions--such as recognising Israel--that might convince the world to grant them legitimacy."
I had to read this sentence several times when I first came upon it. The sentence is best understood by realizing that the word comprise is followed by a list of three things. There is no comma between the second and third things in the list (i.e., the Oxford comma is missing), an act I don't approve of but will not condemn.
Hence, the subject of the sentence, pragmatists, is paired with the verb, shy.
Notice also the correct use of the word comprise. Individual parts compose a whole. A whole is composed of its parts. More eloquently, a whole comprises its parts. The Economist knows that the verb to comprise should be used in the active voice.
This post is sponsored by Hamas and the verbs to comprise and to shy.
"Yet even the pragmatists, currently seeking a deal with Israel that would comprise a ceasefire, an exchange of prisoners and a formula for opening the border crossing to Egypt, shy from the kind of concessions--such as recognising Israel--that might convince the world to grant them legitimacy."
I had to read this sentence several times when I first came upon it. The sentence is best understood by realizing that the word comprise is followed by a list of three things. There is no comma between the second and third things in the list (i.e., the Oxford comma is missing), an act I don't approve of but will not condemn.
Hence, the subject of the sentence, pragmatists, is paired with the verb, shy.
Notice also the correct use of the word comprise. Individual parts compose a whole. A whole is composed of its parts. More eloquently, a whole comprises its parts. The Economist knows that the verb to comprise should be used in the active voice.
This post is sponsored by Hamas and the verbs to comprise and to shy.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Worth the read
I started reading the blog Stuff White People Like when it had only one million hits. Today, that number is rapidly approaching twenty million.
The blog is witty, funny, and well-written (excepting occasional grammatical errors). It gently pokes fun at generic white culture. The format is simple: Identify a fairly common facet of white culture, parody it, and then instruct the reader how to use it to his advantage.
The blog's humor deftly toes racial lines without causing offense (at least on my part) by staying within certain boudaries. Primarily, it resorts to stereotypes that are not always accurate. A quick skim of the comments will show how many "non-white" readers identify with the posts, and vice versa. Secondly, its tone is consistently light-hearted. It's easy to separate teasing from derision. And lastly, the absurd proposition embedded within every post that this knowledge can be used for one's advantage highlights the comical aspect of the writing.
In sum, if you ever find yourself donning a North Face jacket, eating an $8 sandwich, studying art or the humanities, attending an Oscar Party, preferring microbreweries, or knowing What Is Best for poor people, then this blog is for you.
The blog is witty, funny, and well-written (excepting occasional grammatical errors). It gently pokes fun at generic white culture. The format is simple: Identify a fairly common facet of white culture, parody it, and then instruct the reader how to use it to his advantage.
The blog's humor deftly toes racial lines without causing offense (at least on my part) by staying within certain boudaries. Primarily, it resorts to stereotypes that are not always accurate. A quick skim of the comments will show how many "non-white" readers identify with the posts, and vice versa. Secondly, its tone is consistently light-hearted. It's easy to separate teasing from derision. And lastly, the absurd proposition embedded within every post that this knowledge can be used for one's advantage highlights the comical aspect of the writing.
In sum, if you ever find yourself donning a North Face jacket, eating an $8 sandwich, studying art or the humanities, attending an Oscar Party, preferring microbreweries, or knowing What Is Best for poor people, then this blog is for you.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
A stroll through Central Park
A stroll through Central Park sounds delightful, and that's exactly what I'll be doing this spring and summer, rather than running. It is with sadness that for this season I am retiring the "running" label from the blog. I have forgone this love affair during the spring and summer of 2007 owing to a festering knee injury.
After a few months' rest, I thought I was on the mend. I even started a disciplined running regimen to slowly get back into the sport and strengthen the sinews of my joint. On day one, I jogged 100 paces around the track. On day three, I went 110 paces. The next time, it was 121 paces, and then 133, increasing by 10% each time. I made it to 146 paces before the inflammatory pain came and stayed for a week.
These days, a quick sprint across Broadway to catch a bus can be felt a few days later. And so the running and the writing about running must draw to a close. Perhaps the autumn will bring fresh stamina. Until then, I'll stick to the weights at the gym and maybe even venture over to the elliptical machines once in a while, staying well out of sight of the beloved treadmill.
Interesting article about the runner's high.
Resurrection of the blog
Many days and nights have passed since I last logged in to blogger.com. A few months, indeed, have gone by; and although I never had any intention of abandoning Mulberry Street, there were times when I feared I'd crossed that critical point in time after which I'd never return. Were my faithful readers--you know who you are, EK, MG, DGH, Mom--forever to stare vacantly at "A good post call day" and ponder my Pulitzer-worthy surreptitious photo of the retired gentlemen in the chess shop?
No. I'm back. And armed with new ideas and experiences, I'm ready to write. About grammar...poetry...The Economist...and life in general in this amazing City of New York.
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