It’s that time of year. The blog will resurface at the mouth of the Cooper/Ashley watershed, I hope, just before 2011. As final post from the sixth boro for 2010, then, here is a motley set of fotos and disjointed thoughts.
Collaboration . . . I love it. This foto of Golden Elpis comes from John Watson. Given my imagination-driven eyes, I read the ship name as Golden Elips and thought “elips . . . give ekisses, not wet urgent ones.” In 2011, I want more real passionate kisses and fewer ekisses. About this ship, I saw it in New Haven recently and read the name as Golden Elvis. I really need to get my eyes checked, maybe patented.
You heard it here: one of the things I adore about this city is that it finds itself among those places where you hear and see other languages daily, unidentifiable ones. MSC Mandraki sent me here.
To go somewhere and see a retired politician’s name on a research boat like this . . . all pols should be so lucky.
Endeavor . . . yah!
More marine eyecandy called Dominique, launched 1937. “Eyecandy” actually is a crass word for beauty. May 2011 bring beauty into all our lives.
Clingstone House . . . staying there with a dozen like-minded friends . . . that’s something to organize in 2011.
Probe forward. I suppose some things I’ll encounter in 2011 will push back hard, and I’ll deal with those. Others . . . will bring unexpected pleasures and treasures. I wish you all the same. Before parting, a story.
Call it one of my 1001 stories . . . actually, it’s not a story but an email I got recently from someone I’ll call “Joe.” I’ve “tinkered” with identifying info in the letter, lest the company in question object.
<<<I’ve been a fan of your web site for a long time. So when I saw a guy sitting on the rocks of the KVK near [a certain location], Sunday, October 3rd, I said to “my captain,” “See that guy over there shooting pictures, I’ll bet that’s the Tugster.”
The captain said, “Where,.. what are you pointing at? That looks like a bunch of Richmond Terrace winos sitting under that tree.”
“No sir, not the mooks sitting under the trees, the guy crouched up like a seagull on those rocks shooting pictures of the dredge, I’ll bet ya that’s the Tugster.”
“What the hell is a Tugster, is that something like a hernia?”
“No Cap, the Tugster is an aficionado of all that is New York Harbor”.
“What kind of fish did you say he was fishing for, a fish-ah-what? What the hell kind of fish is that?”
“No Cap, He chronicles New York Harbor in photographs and posts them on his web page. Hey, I’ll keep an eye on his site and see if we show up in any of the photo’s.”
Now it was the Captains turn to give me the fish eye, as if, I might be looking at, “other less prurient pages,” on the Internet. “Yeah sure, let me know what turns up.”
Today I went to your site. Imagine the joy when I discovered that, yes the bearded individual crouched on the rocks like a kid with bad diarrhea, truly was the Tugster. Wow, in a city of Ten Million people! Who could imagine?
Naturally, I’ve emailed your web page link of flattering photo’s to all of the [company X] folks. This is particularly great because the guys working on the [vessel in question] are from [a faraway state outside the Northeast], haven’t been home for awhile and can share the pics with their families. Nice.
If you are interested, perhaps I can bribe, blackmail and use threats and innuendo and scurrilous gossip to arrange for you to visit the [vessel in question, again]. No guarantees, but I can ask the big shots that run the show, if you’re interested.
Thanks again for a great web site.>>>
Wow! Thanks. I could NEVER hope for a better gift.
I’m headed inland for a spell and a gallivant, and hope–as I said earlier–to emerge about 750 miles south of the sixth boro.