In Transit: New York City 5/7 - 510
Monday. I love flying out of Chattanooga, if only because I can arrive at the airport, get my ticket, and be through security and at the gate in under 15 minutes; that's very rare. It's not all perfect; wherever you go, you'll probably have to take a connecting flight to a nearby airline hub (usually Atlanta, Charlotte, Memphis, or Cincinnati) unless there happens to be direct service. And it's more expensive because of that. But sometimes it's worth it, especially when it means not having to drive two hours to get to a larger airport.
This trip will end up with quite a bibliography; the books I'm taking with me are Newton's Wake by Ken MacLeod, and Sir Thursday by Garth Nix. I recommend both, especially the former; I'm becoming a big fan of MacLeod's books. It seems like there's more politically slanted science-fiction coming out of the British Isles lately, and I'm curious to see how (if) the trend will further develop.
A brief layover in Charlotte, NC, and I'm back on my way to New York. Upon touching down, I took a cab ride to the Red Roof Inn I usually stay at (on 32nd Street; reasonable rates for Midtown if you have to travel that way), stowed my bags, and walked a few doors down for lunch at Mandoo, as is becoming my ritual. On the phone with customers, the expected appointment failed to materialized, so I was left to my own devices. So what I did was find a sports bar, have dinner, and watch the sixth game of the Detroit/San Jose series.
Watching the Sharks be dispatched in six games was fun; I correctly picked all four of this round's winners, though I didn't quite get the number of games right in each series. My picks for next round: Detroit beats Anaheim (yeah, yeah, I know the columnists are picking Anaheim; they picked San Jose, too, so heck with 'em), and Ottawa beats Buffalo (tough call!).
I got very little sleep that night, about three hours. For some reason, I never sleep well the first night in the city. Still too much ambient noise, perhaps, even though my room this time was much higher up than the last, and on the back side of the building (more on this later).
Tuesday morning came all too soon. I bought a ticket for the Long Island Railroad, and met our sales rep out in Babylon. It beats hell out of taking a cab ride, and is far less expensive. It helps that my hotel is only two blocks from Penn Station, from which you can get to damn near anywhere you want. The visit was a bust; the software was glitchy, and I had to call in to get some new hardware sent up. Back to the city. That afternoon (and early evening) was spent at a customer site downtown struggling mightily with an ostensibly easy problem that we had failed in the past to take care of over the phone. Early night this time; three hours of sleep, and working all day, will take it out of you.
Wednesday was just busy; two customer sites in the city (at buildings full of models; good times), back out to Babylon to solve that problem, and done. A simple summation of a very full day, mind you, but everything works now, because I'm awesome. I'm learning more about navigating this town; fewer expensive cabs rides, more walking (at least I'm getting some exercise), more efficient use of metro stations, and I can still get around in a timely fashion.
That night, I had dinner at Shanghai Mong, a Chinese/Korean fusion restaurant a few doors down from my hotel in the other direction. It's an interesting place; the "solo" dining area is a circular room, ringed with a bar and chairs. There are mirrors in front of each chair, which is kind of disconcerting, especially when, flanking the central surface where you see your face, are the words "You Are A Princess". I brought my camera with me, and garnered some curious looks from the staff when I took a picture of the mirror, a page of the menu (featuring the painful-sounding "Cramelized Bananas"), and finally a picture of my meal: a fantastic dish of Szechuan Chicken. So good. Spice-wise, it was near the top edge of my tolerance; I was sweating slightly by the time I was finished, and my sinuses had cleared nicely.
The building behind the hotel had a boiler fire on Thursday morning, directly outside my window; it was an impressive display, and a little intimidating. I think my priorities have become a bit skewed, though; my first thought, upon seeing flames, cinders, and billowing clouds of smoke shoot out the top of the ventilation system next door was "I should get pictures of this." So I did. My next thought was, "Perhaps I should put some pants on."
So here I am at the airport, killing time until my flight leaves (scheduled for about 30 minutes from now*). I have, while in New York, bought six more books. There is a fantastic comic-book store a block over from the hotel, across from the Empire State Building, and they've got everything. I bought two Hellboy collections (Wake The Devil and The Conqueror Worm), a PS238 collection (To The Cafeteria...For Justice!), and the second Astonishing X-Men collection (Dangerous). I also picked up two more books at the airport here: The Planets, by Dava Sobel (well-known for her book Longitude), and Don't Know Much About The Universe by Kenneth C. Davis.
Buying comic books in collected form is a no-brainer. The Japanese have been doing it for years upon years; most manga start out serialized, it's true, but in massive magazines rather than individual issues for title. For my part, given the always increasing prices of single comic issues, simply waiting a little while for them to be gathered in trade paperback (and if they're at all popular, they will), is the best way to read comics. You get a full story, rather than serialized in chunks, pay less for it, and they take up far less space in your house. I also find that it encourages me to track things down by creator (writer or artist), which is really the only criterion that matters to me any more. I wonder how long it will be before some titles go to trade paperback volumes only? I know I'd be all about it. It won't hit the mainstream as long as companies can make money twice, of course, on issues and books, and the need for maintaining name presence remains strong (there are so many comics out there, that it's important to keep a monthly title out there reminding people that you exist).
Oh, and you can sell the collections to used book stores if you want to get rid of them. If you started collecting comics any time in the last 20 years, your collections are worthless. I know; I've got one. Doesn't that suck? It surely does. Maybe once the industry as a whole undergoes a sea-change (it's coming), those collections will start being worth something again. But the 80s and 90s were really a bubble for the industry, and the collectors items you picked up in the hopes of them being worth something are instead worth no more than you paid (and perhaps less now), because everyone else bought them too. The massive quantities in which these issues were pumped out killed the scarcity that might have lent them value.
That's my rant for the week. Once I get back to Chattanooga, I'll post this up to my blog, along with new and interesting pictures (I took a lot of pictures on my cell phone this time, so we'll see how they came out). Then I'm in town for a day, and flying back out on Saturday to Bismarck, North Dakota.
*(Just delayed, as flight to and from DCA often are; looks like I'll be getting out of here at 12:15 instead of 12:00.)
This trip will end up with quite a bibliography; the books I'm taking with me are Newton's Wake by Ken MacLeod, and Sir Thursday by Garth Nix. I recommend both, especially the former; I'm becoming a big fan of MacLeod's books. It seems like there's more politically slanted science-fiction coming out of the British Isles lately, and I'm curious to see how (if) the trend will further develop.
A brief layover in Charlotte, NC, and I'm back on my way to New York. Upon touching down, I took a cab ride to the Red Roof Inn I usually stay at (on 32nd Street; reasonable rates for Midtown if you have to travel that way), stowed my bags, and walked a few doors down for lunch at Mandoo, as is becoming my ritual. On the phone with customers, the expected appointment failed to materialized, so I was left to my own devices. So what I did was find a sports bar, have dinner, and watch the sixth game of the Detroit/San Jose series.
Watching the Sharks be dispatched in six games was fun; I correctly picked all four of this round's winners, though I didn't quite get the number of games right in each series. My picks for next round: Detroit beats Anaheim (yeah, yeah, I know the columnists are picking Anaheim; they picked San Jose, too, so heck with 'em), and Ottawa beats Buffalo (tough call!).
I got very little sleep that night, about three hours. For some reason, I never sleep well the first night in the city. Still too much ambient noise, perhaps, even though my room this time was much higher up than the last, and on the back side of the building (more on this later).
Tuesday morning came all too soon. I bought a ticket for the Long Island Railroad, and met our sales rep out in Babylon. It beats hell out of taking a cab ride, and is far less expensive. It helps that my hotel is only two blocks from Penn Station, from which you can get to damn near anywhere you want. The visit was a bust; the software was glitchy, and I had to call in to get some new hardware sent up. Back to the city. That afternoon (and early evening) was spent at a customer site downtown struggling mightily with an ostensibly easy problem that we had failed in the past to take care of over the phone. Early night this time; three hours of sleep, and working all day, will take it out of you.
Wednesday was just busy; two customer sites in the city (at buildings full of models; good times), back out to Babylon to solve that problem, and done. A simple summation of a very full day, mind you, but everything works now, because I'm awesome. I'm learning more about navigating this town; fewer expensive cabs rides, more walking (at least I'm getting some exercise), more efficient use of metro stations, and I can still get around in a timely fashion.
That night, I had dinner at Shanghai Mong, a Chinese/Korean fusion restaurant a few doors down from my hotel in the other direction. It's an interesting place; the "solo" dining area is a circular room, ringed with a bar and chairs. There are mirrors in front of each chair, which is kind of disconcerting, especially when, flanking the central surface where you see your face, are the words "You Are A Princess". I brought my camera with me, and garnered some curious looks from the staff when I took a picture of the mirror, a page of the menu (featuring the painful-sounding "Cramelized Bananas"), and finally a picture of my meal: a fantastic dish of Szechuan Chicken. So good. Spice-wise, it was near the top edge of my tolerance; I was sweating slightly by the time I was finished, and my sinuses had cleared nicely.The building behind the hotel had a boiler fire on Thursday morning, directly outside my window; it was an impressive display, and a little intimidating. I think my priorities have become a bit skewed, though; my first thought, upon seeing flames, cinders, and billowing clouds of smoke shoot out the top of the ventilation system next door was "I should get pictures of this." So I did. My next thought was, "Perhaps I should put some pants on."
So here I am at the airport, killing time until my flight leaves (scheduled for about 30 minutes from now*). I have, while in New York, bought six more books. There is a fantastic comic-book store a block over from the hotel, across from the Empire State Building, and they've got everything. I bought two Hellboy collections (Wake The Devil and The Conqueror Worm), a PS238 collection (To The Cafeteria...For Justice!), and the second Astonishing X-Men collection (Dangerous). I also picked up two more books at the airport here: The Planets, by Dava Sobel (well-known for her book Longitude), and Don't Know Much About The Universe by Kenneth C. Davis.
Buying comic books in collected form is a no-brainer. The Japanese have been doing it for years upon years; most manga start out serialized, it's true, but in massive magazines rather than individual issues for title. For my part, given the always increasing prices of single comic issues, simply waiting a little while for them to be gathered in trade paperback (and if they're at all popular, they will), is the best way to read comics. You get a full story, rather than serialized in chunks, pay less for it, and they take up far less space in your house. I also find that it encourages me to track things down by creator (writer or artist), which is really the only criterion that matters to me any more. I wonder how long it will be before some titles go to trade paperback volumes only? I know I'd be all about it. It won't hit the mainstream as long as companies can make money twice, of course, on issues and books, and the need for maintaining name presence remains strong (there are so many comics out there, that it's important to keep a monthly title out there reminding people that you exist).
Oh, and you can sell the collections to used book stores if you want to get rid of them. If you started collecting comics any time in the last 20 years, your collections are worthless. I know; I've got one. Doesn't that suck? It surely does. Maybe once the industry as a whole undergoes a sea-change (it's coming), those collections will start being worth something again. But the 80s and 90s were really a bubble for the industry, and the collectors items you picked up in the hopes of them being worth something are instead worth no more than you paid (and perhaps less now), because everyone else bought them too. The massive quantities in which these issues were pumped out killed the scarcity that might have lent them value.
That's my rant for the week. Once I get back to Chattanooga, I'll post this up to my blog, along with new and interesting pictures (I took a lot of pictures on my cell phone this time, so we'll see how they came out). Then I'm in town for a day, and flying back out on Saturday to Bismarck, North Dakota.
*(Just delayed, as flight to and from DCA often are; looks like I'll be getting out of here at 12:15 instead of 12:00.)
posted by Matt at
6:04 PM
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