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Showing posts from 2013

The Ascendancy of Dylan Penn and Ireland Baldwin

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In the wake of holiday feasts when family and friends gather around the table for coffee and dessert, I'm often intrigued by the subjects that come up, especially when the group digresses into the did-you-hear gossip about celebs.
Last year Ireland Baldwin was the center of attention, but this year's belle of the cream-and-sugar bowl was Dylan Penn. For those who have not been introduced to either one, yet, these women are the exceedingly beautiful progeny of Hollywood couples Sean Penn and Robin Wright and Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger. Behold:


I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that we will be seeing and hearing a lot more about Dylan and Ireland in the new year.

Message in a Bottle

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It's hard for me to think of a message in a bottle and not hear the high pitched voice of Sting ringing in my ear. Then, of course, there's the man in tattered clothes with a ragged beard stuffing a scroll into a wine bottle that he hopes will one day lead to his rescue. This message adrift at sea, where will it end up and when might that be?

Not long ago I moved to the suburbs where my wife grew up and this past summer her best friend's parents sold their house to move to the California wine country. As such, we inherited many of the things they chose not to take such as an antique clock, a mahogany buffet and a hand-crafted Olhausen pool table, timeless treasures that were immediately put to use.

Every time my wife would send me to their home I went like a kid sliding down the banister on Christmas morning eager with anticipation. On the last trip, there were miscellaneous items set out on the driveway for collection, among them were some unopened bottles of wine and a …

Twitter's IPO Conjures Shining City on the Hill

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This morning's initial public offering of Twitter's common stock was brilliant in that it allowed a level of transparency that was sorely missed when Facebook debuted in May 2012. CNBC reporter Bob Pisani (@BobPisani) was at the post alongside the New York Stock Exchange's Scott Cutler (@CutlerScott) to allow a level of public access to an event that has long been shrouded in mystery. "Ten million at 35," barked the designated market maker from the pit through every TV tuned in to this historic event as NYSE CEO Duncan Niederauer stood nearby Twitter CEO Dick Costolo (@dickc) so that the public was being informed alongside the investment community at the same time, which to me exemplifies what Twitter's all about.

I recall when events unfolded in Tahrir Square and later in Damascus as news organizations and citizens from around the world learned first-hand from eyewitness accounts via Twitter that this social media application had become a legitimate source …

Pencil Skirts

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Bryant Park autumn breeze
quaff a half-dozen Long Island iced teas
among a swarm of honey bees
circling burgers smothered in cheese
and girls in pencil skirts above their knees
whose allergies to cats make them sneeze
while handling lobbyists with grace and ease
until happy hour's over and she flees.


Other poems:
ConfidenceThe Good Outweighs the Bad Fifty-FiftyBluff

Liz Cho and FDNY Calendar Model Mr. April

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For those of you who have seen the movie Tombstone, you may remember the scene where Wyatt Earp, cornered and outnumbered, charges across the river and guns down his nemesis Curly Bill. After the gunfight, Doc Holiday is sitting by a tree when he's asked what he's doing out in the middle of nowhere when clearly he's not well, to which he replies, "Wyatt Earp's my friend."

When I think of friendship, one of the ingredients I've come to know is a lack of jealousy at your friend's success, in fact, you're happy when they succeed. In some cases, you're even proud of them. These things have held true with regards to my friend Ralph, that is until the day he met Liz Cho. 
Through hard work and sacrifice, FF Ralph Ciccarelli made the coveted FDNY Calendar that benefits the FDNY Foundation and can be purchased here. The firefighters themselves end up devoting even more of their time to help raise awareness for the foundation through a well-executed pu…

Stray Dog

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I believe it was James Joyce who once said that he could detect his wife's fart in a room full of farts. To know someone intimately is inevitable when you live with them. So too is the case with dogs.

In the kitchen, coffee poured, dog barks. I heed. It's the urgent, guttural growl to warn off potential invaders, which usually amounts to no more than the delivery man or the occasional skunk. Oh good, my pitching wedge has arrived, I think. (Cut to the image of my former pitching wedge entangled in weeds below the murky water hazard of the golf course where I last played.)
I rush to the front door and see a car and a man who looks vaguely familiar walking up my driveway looking in my and my neighbor's yard. I retreat to the kitchen to cut off his angle when he sees me through the window and rather than explain, he retreats to his vehicle. No sooner my wife shouts, "There it is! There's the dog!"
I race outside with bare feet and pierce through the brambles div…

Confidence

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Confidence is in short supply
even in the wink from a sure ally
Whether pulling a rabbit from a hole in hat
or pulling a tight sweater over a roll of fat
If you got it, you don't have to pretend
The outcome is certain, press play, hit send

Confidence is the antidote for anxiety
as often purchased throughout society
It is the bare leg of Angelina Jolie
and triple sevens, holy moly!
It is the steely gaze of a man who can't be beat
and the polished wingtips that adorn his feet

Confidence is a soaring note in an emotional song
and no need to apologize after it all went wrong
It is a trait we seldom possess
fragile as a liar under duress
It's something we all want to follow
to keep safe from regret that may find us tomorrow

To know the outcome before the event
To be sure of oneself, that's confident.


Other poems:
Pencil SkirtsHawaiian Surf PrincessThe Face That Launched a Thousand Ships

LP Into The Wild

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Laura Pergolizzi, aka LP, has a smash hit, Into The Wild,  that seems to be on constant replay in my home courtesy of Citi's commercial that features a woman climbing up a steep and stony precipice before reaching its pinnacle. This image may well personify LP's career at the moment.



I met LP around the time her second album, Suburban Sprawl and Alcohol, was released. She performed at my cousin's wedding, which was held on a perfectly manicured lawn of an old estate in Huntington, NY. It was a beautifully simple ceremony where she played her guitar and sang while the bride approached among rows of folding chairs with properly attired people like a scene from The Great Gatsby.
When the ceremony concluded, LP played the new couple and their guests off the lawn and in to the manor where a sushi station and well-provisioned bars were propped up in meandering, palatial rooms. It was at one of these bars where I introduced myself to LP as my uncle walked by with an accusatory gl…