Boiler Room Rap Life New York Dj Mathematics with Redman, Street Life, Eyes Low, Ready Rock, Mr. Cream

(It is important to be mindful of the beauty that exists Everywhere…)

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]]> http://itsmetheinternet.wordpress.com/2013/04/22/at-times-perhaps-rather-a-putz/ Mon, 22 Apr 2013 23:31:09 +0000 itsmetheinternet http://itsmetheinternet.wordpress.com/2013/04/22/at-times-perhaps-rather-a-putz/ I wrote this post last September, but with summer coming on soon, I know mad ice cream scoopin’ days are in my future. Somedays, I still feel exactly this way. Working in the service industry is a constant trial of one’s humanity.

—————————————–

Don’t do it. 

I see you creepin’ over there on the sidewalk, slowing your walk to a crawl. I hear snippets of your exclamations to your friends.

“Oh my god, should we get ice cream??”

No. No you shouldn’t.

“Wow, Cinnamon? That sounds good, holy crap homemade whipped cream? YUMMERS, not that I need the calories hahahaaaa!”

No, you don’t. You don’t want ice cream. You don’t need it. Look at you, you disgusting tub of lard, you’re pathetic. This ice cream truck exists merely as a test to your willpower; it is an ice cream truck of the mind. And you are failing.

Do not bother the attendant within. Refrain from asking her inane questions or pronouncing it “expresso.”

Do you see her in there, sitting on a milk crate and scribbling on a notepad? You stand at the window, patiently waiting for her to look up and notice you. That is nice of you, but she already noticed you — she just hates you. She’s never met you, and she hates you. Can you see it flicker in her eyes as she slowly raises them from her book, towards your simpering face, before she covers it with a perky, “Hey, what can I DO for you?”

By the end of your interaction with her, probably, she will like you. 9 times out of 10 you manage to humanize yourself enough to disarm her (the way a couple casually shares a tasting spoon, the habitual way a working woman adds just enough milk to her coffee, or a parent capably balances two ice cream cones, a dog leash and a bag of groceries, and still manages to put a dollar in the tip jar). For it is not people she hates, not a person, but the unsubtle, demanding stranger, the way a head looming outside that window holds the promise of some NEED to be filled, and requires her acquiescence, through repetitive action and cheerful subservience, to fulfill it.

By the end she remembers her altruism, that she genuinely enjoys helping people, and the life of the city streets, and her wish that you enjoy the ice cream will be sincere.

But in between then.

Just.

Why would you ask to taste the vanilla? The moments in which you taste that vanilla, reassuring yourself that ordering this most palatable flavor, the name of which has become synonymous with “bland” or “boring,” is not a horrific mistake you will rue for the rest of your days, are moments neither you nor she will ever get back.  And she resents you for that.

She also resents that without fail, when one person comes to the window, three more instantly line up. There’s been no business for twenty minutes, and in seconds there’s a line of ten people? Did all of you just not want ice cream until you saw someone else was having it? Are you that suggestible, that easily molded by the actions of others? (She already knows you are, since you frequently ask her “what’s the most popular flavor?,” as if taking a mass poll is the best way to determine your personal tastes and preferences.) She resents your lack of originality, your insecurity about something as banal as ordering ice cream, and that she has to humor you throughout the process.

And then suddenly at 5 o’clock, the light starts to hit the buildings a little differently. There’s a little breeze in the air, a prelude to fall — and an old man comes up and gets a cone with chocolate and espresso, and the way he says it you know he’s a had a lifetime of the combo. He’s so New York. He talks about parking, waves to a street vendor nearby, and leans against the counter amicably. He has a mustache.

And suddenly I come back to myself. He reminds me of my grandfather. He makes me feel sad and fond. He is gruffly familiar.

I feel instantly guilty for my silent inward snarking — I reach out apologetic tendrils in my mind to all the people I served today — normal people, just people buying some ice cream. I am just like them — seeking enjoyment in life, bumbling through it, occasionally oblivious, occasionally demanding. At times, perhaps, rather a putz.

I’m sorry, child of yuppie parents, for the shade I threw your way in my mind over your temper tantrum, and I’m sorry, muscle-shirt-wearing New Jersey-ite with his girl, struggling with pronunciations. I’m sorry, pragmatic and brusque mother of five, and I’m sorry, family from Japan who got lost on the way to the Apple Store. You deserve the same basic respect as the rest of us, and I for one will strive to give it to you.

I am a putz. But I want to be a better putz. It scares me how easily I can slip into comfortable judgement, righteous indignation and delicious superiority. On or off the truck, anger is a fruitless occupation.

…

Hello, stranger. Let’s do business. This time I will be honest with you. This time I will see you as you really are — a passing moment on the timeline of my life, a fleeting connection made, then unmade. Maybe our moment will be horrible, or maybe it will be fantastic. Either way, it will be over soon. So good luck to you, as you walk down the street and out of my life. I hope you enjoy your ice cream.

Screen 5: At the front counter

Screen 6: Sweet bag review

Screen 7: More detail view into the Milt Tray product. A screen similar to this will be made for each sweet product.

With them shown it’s now time to reveal my video which shows how my app will look if a user was to use the app in the museum. I also added a song to the video that isn’t what you’d expect but i love it and it ‘almost’ goes with the theme of sweets. Hope you enjoy it!

photo by Guy Heart ***** peolple chilling out in Central Park Manhattan, NYC

The noise would’ve been deafening.

Among all the action were the crossing-sweepers. Usually children (occasionally the elderly or disabled) and usually extremely poor, these boys or men (rarely were girls or women crossing-sweepers) would take up their post alongside a busy street or corner armed with nothing more than a broom. Their job was to clear the streets of horse dung, mud, dust, rubbish and anything else that happened to land there and make a clear crossing for pedestrians who needed to reach the other side of the road.

Many crossing-sweepers were territorial and had a regular spot. It wasn’t unusual for them to know, by sight and sometimes by name, the local residents and shop-keepers. Some were even employed by larger business to keep the street in front of their building clean.

Whilst many people thought of the crossing-sweepers as little more than public nuisances and beggars, there were just as many who appreciated what they did. They were generally found in the more wealthy areas of London (where women in long dresses appreciated not getting the bottom of their gowns covered with horse muck when they crossed the road) and along the main thoroughfares of the cities – the streets where middle-class workers walked to and from their jobs. Some crossing-sweepers received payment for their work (a shilling would be considered a good amount to earn in one day) but many would receive only abuse.

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photo by Annette Heart ***** booots house Central Park

There is a stunning documentary called ‘Dark Days’ by Marc Singer, it is a real eye opener and not for the faint of heart. For those who have not seen it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2DFb7ifihg

– Rebecca Haag, President & CEO of AIDS Action Committee

Last week,  the Massachusetts Law Reform Institute issued a report titled “Out in the Cold: Homeless Children in Crisis in Massachusetts.”

The report recognized that the state needs to embrace new policies that make homeless families with children and teens eligible for shelter and housing immediately.

Rebecca Haag, President & CEO of AIDS Action Committee applauded the results of the report, noting that street-involved and homeless youth are most at risk for HIV and STDs, and that 11 percent of new HIV infection diagnoses in Massachusetts between 2008 and 2010 were of adolescents and young adults age 13-24.

“We also know that homelessness worsens the health of those living with HIV/AIDS and puts them at risk of other chronic and life threatening conditions,” Ms. Haag stated.

“Without access to stable housing, there is no way we can truly end the AIDS epidemic.”

Read the complete story here.

Police report. Murder of Raleigh cycle, Bridge Street, Cardiff.

The victim John Doe, red paint, approximately 24lbs, found brutally murdered in Bridge St Cardiff sometime prior to discovery on the 19th April 2013 at 9.10am. Cause of death; evisceration by allen key, removal of wheels , steerer, handlebars and seatpost. Death appears to be slow and painful, conducted over a period of time, most probably whilst the victim was conscious. An intensive search of the scene has not revealed clues to potential suspects and a request for eyewitnesses has thus far proved unsuccessful. 

This poor bike has truly been through the mill. If possible, whilst leaving your bike for extended periods, take care to lock it in a well lit and busy area. Nobody wants to return to a scene like this.

More in the series: Abandoned Part 1, Abandoned Part 2, Abandoned Part 3, Abandonded Part 4, Abandoned Part 5 Abandoned Part 6, Abandoned Part 7, Abandoned Part 8, Abandoned Part 9, Abandoned Part 10, Abandoned Part 11, Abandoned Part 12, Abandoned Part 13

If you come back to your bike to find it decimated by detritivores, please think about passing any unwanted bits to local social enterprises such as The Cardiff Cycle workshop, The Bristol Bike Project,  ReCycling (London) or The Bike Station (Glasgow). This is part of an ongoing series to highlight cycle security, abandoned and vandalised bikes. 

Eavesdrop conversations in the streets, but remember to keep the fragments.

Upon asking her for something to practice my colloquial Spanish, a friend suggested this Facebook page called “La gente anda diciendo”; since then I have started paying way more attention to what people say in the streets here too, in the subway, on the buses.
Should start an Italian page soon too!

photo by Annette Heart ***** springtime in Downtown Mnahattan, NYC