The Electric Egg Cream

This will be my final post of the year. I’m sure there are those among you (quite a few, I would imagine) who were hoping that it would be my final post of the century–but we all have our little disappointments to bear. No, if the fates allow, I’ll be here come hell or high water (even high blood pressure) offering up my own unique if rambling admixture of fact, fancy and clever hallucinations for your reading enjoyment…however questionable the fact, however outrageous the fancy, however dull the hallucinations and however weak the enjoyment may turn out to be.

I began this blog in mid-September and since that time I’ve learned quite a lot about the technical, marketing, literary, statistical, etc., aspects and nuances that comprise blogging; these appear to be in the thousands, and more appearing in the thousands everyday. To say that’s there much more to learn would be a gross understatement.

Arriving relatively late in the personal computer world, it wasn’t that long ago when the term “blog” was as strange to me as strange could be. Personally, I don’t like the word: “blog” sounded like “blob” which I thought was either a reference to some shapeless mass or the old Steve McQueen science fiction movie. While these pages don’t bear any association with the latter definition (I think), the former may be somewhat apropos as far as my critics are concerned.

If anything, my possibly numerous dissenters could lend me the wisdom and courtesy of some  feedback. While this isn’t, admittedly, the best blog in cyberspace, it certainly isn’t the worst: there must have been something around here that tickled someone’s fancy. Whether you’ve arrived here intentionally or unintentionally, directly or indirectly, these words and images which you see don’t just magically (or tragically) appear but have a human agent behind them, in the form of this blogger. I welcome your comments, opinions and suggestions…your praise at a maximum, your insults at a minimum, and your constructive criticism truly constructive for a man who is constantly under construction.

Finally, I don’t waste time with New Year’s resolutions, rather I’m constantly and steadfastly resolved to go through each year as I am…besides, why open myself to inevitable failure? If everything goes alright, I’ll see you again in 2008. Thank you all so much for whatever interest you’ve shown in my Electric-Egg-Cream mania.

Special Thanks and Love to my newly-found friends: Andave-ya, a girl of refined and sophisticated taste (if I do say so myself); and, especially, Suzann Kale, a beautiful, intelligent and generous woman who could be found at “My Makeup Mirror” and the “Goddess Files” via my Links’ Page or my post Makeup & Goddesses at the link below:

electriceggcream.com/2007/11/08/…                                                 All The Best In 2008

The New Year’s Ball is the latest concession to energy-efficient lighting and will be “green” but fantastically multi-colored this year. Revamped with 9,576 environmentally-adaptive bulbs, the electricity used will be equal to that of ten toasters, but twice as bright and smaller than the lights used on last year’s ball. Philips Lighting designed the diodes especially for this year’s event; the New Year’s Ball celebrates its 100th anniversary with tomorrow’s descent.

New Year’s in Times Square was first ushered-in with a dropping ball in 1907. Made of iron and wood, the ball weighed 700 pounds and was illuminated with 100 25-watt incandescent bulbs. Five other versions of the ball appeared over the course of the last century, including 1999’s crystal-laced ball that welcomed in the new millennium (of course, unaware of the horrors that would occur here in less than two years…but that’s the way the ball bounces).

At One Times Square, the new ball was successfully tested today as it was moved up and down its 77-foot flagpole rigging atop the building. Everything appears to be ready for another ball and for another year. Nonetheless, like all native New Yorkers (at least, those in their right minds), I won’t be anywhere near Times Square tomorrow night. My wife and I will be observing the happy chaos from the safety of our secret location, somewhere in Brooklyn.

Many suns and moons ago, when my mother used to wake me up at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, I used to gaze at this descending ball on the television screen through a mist of sleep. Being an imaginative child, my first thought was that the Earth was being invaded…perhaps it was, and continues to be, and not just on New Year’s Eve.

Source:

nbc5.com/news/14949019/detail.html

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For most New Yorkers, Governors Island is a historically significant site…its historical significance interminably lost to history. In spite of its lordly appellation, throughout most of the last century the island has been surpassed only by Ellis Island in its dismal and forlorn appearance. Many years ago, New York was virtually given the 172-acre property for $1.00. A mansion having been built there in 1708 for the royal governor (hence its name), throughout the ensuing decades and centuries it played a prominent part in (among other events) the American Revolution and the Civil War, yet it’s primarily (and merely) known today for housing a former coast guard base. For all intents and purposes, the island was generally ignored; just something to casually look at as one sailed by it on the Staten Island Ferry.

City officials, lately, appear to be awakening to the realization that Governors Island is actually a “cash cow” sitting at the forefront of New York Harbor. Situated less than 800 yards from the southern tip of Manhattan, it offers front-seat views of the NYC skyline, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, etc., guaranteed to delight a sightseer. With its abundant acreage that could be set aside for cultural and educational purposes, parks and promenades, Governors Island has the potential to be a major city attraction; its history brought to the attention of persons interested in this city’s and this nation’s past.

Governor Spitzer and Mayor Bloomberg have already chosen a team to design what will be the park area of the island. These and other designs and proposals are in the offing. But it remains to be seen if this will be a genuine “cash cow” project which benefits the many and appreciative or (like so many other NYC projects) a “pork barrel” benefiting the few and unaccountable to the many.

For more on this go to the NY Times’ “The Most Fabulous Views of Manhattan” Editorial Board:

theboard.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/…

Circa: 1959. The place: Macy’s Herald Square. Here I am below, your faithful and eccentric blogger, photographed when he first visited Santa Claus. My expression of innocent incredulity is only a reflection of the claustrophobic glitter and glare of the crowded faces and noise, of anxious kids and harried parents, which surrounded me beyond the frame and encapsulated me within it. I was trying to figure out the nature of this man’s game, obviously a gentleman of wealth and taste. Going through the routine-prompted responses to “What’s your name, little boy?” to the crucial “What do you want for Christmas?”, my shy and reserved nature may have kicked-in and drifted-away on the flash of a camera and on the waves of light-speed to consider the following:

I never expected the most expensive gifts and presents, yet forever hoped for the most affordable but magnificent. As a child, I loved to dream and explore fabulous venues of the hopeful and quietly ambitious, where marvelous trinkets and splendid baubles would fall from the stars like snowflakes. I could subconsciously relate to Jason’s adventurous search for a Golden Fleece, even before I knew who and what Jason and his Golden Fleece were all about…and how the ambitious bum later fleeced Medea.

Nevertheless, due to the harsh reality of my family not being the wealthiest in our neighborhood (which wouldn’t be saying much if we were), I soon became very adept at the art of restrictive dreaming. This was dreaming to the very edges of the impossible while remaining firmly rooted within the possible. To go further would be like traveling faster than the speed of light, which would be (in theory) impossible. I learned how to dream and learned a little science at the same time; besides, the newly-founded NASA and space travel were the “right stuff” of the time. Even though I was hopelessly in love with music and grew to be (arguably) a musician, my dream was to become an astronaut…always admiring things out of this world. Probably imagining that if the stars wouldn’t notice me I would go to them and announce myself.

Santa Claus, however, was a character of a different color and a different dream; famed far and wide (even narrowly near, through the cracks and crevices of my neighborhood) for his unique talents. Here was a non-stop, jolly old soul who was reputed to travel faster and perform feats beyond the merry speed of light, of happy time, of delightful space and all those other constraints which nature and reality mischievously impose on mortals. He was credited to even equal or surpass Merlin the Magician and Aladdin’s Genie in his ability to permanently suspend disbelief and transform the incredible into credible form, in spite of one’s better judgment. With his flying sled-load of endless gifts drawn by flying reindeer, in an instant of time he was said to visit every sleeping child in the world, sliding down chimneys (whether or not they were there), fearless of being shot as an intruder. A person couldn’t argue with this sort of man…considering how he dressed, it was best to humor him.

I don’t remember what I asked Santa for (if I were older, what’s in the above photo would’ve CERTAINLY been HIGH on my request list) but, thanks to my art of restrictive dreaming and my parents’ good credit line at Macy’s, my gifts magically arrived on Christmas morning. As with Merlin and the Genie, it’s better not to probe too deeply into such matters as Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny or other entities that defy light-speed: these things are better left in the human heart which, like God, also defies the speed of light in our respective imaginations.

If I remember correctly, Santa Claus, aka my parents, brought (or bought) me a toy model Vanguard rocket that I cherished deeply…despite their tendency to fail and/or explode on the launchpad of the real world, unlike Santa Claus; the Mercury Project and beyond were still to come and would further entertain my restrictive dreaming.

I found these Christmas light displays on Photopumpkin and felt compelled to post them for your viewing delight. Unlike the “Dyker Lights,” Brooklyn

(from my own strange corner of the world), I don’t know where these shots were taken, but here they are for your viewing delight. My Thanks to PhotoPumpkin

photopumpkin.com/photo-blog/chri…

Gerald Dickens, the great-great grandson of the brilliant writer Charles Dickens, is a skilled and versatile actor. Like his distant grandfather, Gerald’s one-man performances of “A Christmas Carol” are emotionally brilliant and awe-inspiring for adults and children alike. As seen through the spirit-haunted imagination of the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge, his laughing, leaping and sobbing portrayals of the novel’s 26 characters brings a profounder understanding to the protagonist as his world unfolds before him, and the audience, imagined and realized by the incredible magic of Dickens’ acting ability.

However, the last time I saw Gerald Dickens perform his “A Christmas Carol” was at the Snug Harbor Cultural Center in Staten Island, New York in 2002. He was touring America during the Christmas season on his Holiday Tour, visiting various cities in the northeast…I haven’t seen him since, nor do I know if he still tours. If he happened to have been appearing in your part of the world lately, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know…what’s more, I hope you bought a ticket and went to see him.