Overheard in New York

My roommate’s old friend, Jodi Bon Jodi, came over to our house recently, and she was wearing her big belt buckle off to the side. Becca noticed and asked if it was because that’s what all the hipsters are doing now. Jodi said, No! It was actually because the buckle pokes her in the stomach when she sits. Seems like a very sensible reason, and I considered that, in the unlikely event that I started wearing belts again and/or became a rodeo bull rider, I’d start wearing them askew that way too.

Anyway, I’d never even heard of that particular fashion, then one day I was looking for bike hipster photos, and there it was. Some bearded Portland guy had his buckle to the side. It was for real.

So I searched for more photos, but all I came up with was one picture of, well, what you might call an authentic regional archetype — genuine white trash. And that brought to mind what I thought was a game or column or something called “Hipster or Homeless.”

Then I googled that, and that’s where the title of this entry came from, because the first thing I found was this site called “Overheard in New York.” And that’s all she wrote for me; I got sucked into hours of reading these “quotes” of overheard conversations, all submitted by site visitors. They’re unbelieveable — mean, sarcastic, often dumbfounding, and quite frequently hilarious. The picture it paints of New Yorkers makes me think Seinfeld was actually a documentary, or at the very least anthropological.

Here are some samples:

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Woman: …he’s been practicing for weeks and weeks and weeks, maybe months. We’re going to stay for an hour, and when we leave–and during the whole show–we have to be very, very quiet. Like a mouse. OK?
Girl: Yes, Eliza.
Woman: What’s my name?
Girl: Eliza.
Woman: And what’s my other name, my special name just for you?…Mommy, OK? My name is Mommy.
–M7 bus

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Patron: What kind of vegetables do you have?
Surly Russian waitress: Boiled.
–Brighton Beach

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Bimbette tourist: Oh my god! What’s that? It looks like a cool, underground club or secret hideout.
Friend: Um, that’s the entrance to the subway.
–57th & 7th

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Student: That man is giving away free juice. Can we have juice?
Teacher: No. Then you’ll have to pee during the show, and I’m not disrupting the whole theater to take you to the bathroom.
Student: You’re the meanest teacher ever!
Teacher: I’m training to be a mommy. How am I doing?
–Minskoff Theatre

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An ice cream truck is going up the street.

Little girl in wagon: Daddy, that truck song is annoying.
Hipster dad: Yes, the commodification of your desires is annoying, isn’t it?
–Bedford & N 10th

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Chick: Hey, come look at this, like, book!
–Barnes & Noble, Union Square

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Disgusted hipster: I mean, I only do drugs as a joke!
–14th St L station

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Hobo #1: It’s the motherfucking Law of Thermodynamics.
Hobo #2: Fuck you.
–57th & Lex

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Chick: We missed our stop.
Guy: You slept right through it.
Chick: Why didn’t you wake me up?
Guy: I tried, you wouldn’t wake up. You just showed me your pussy.
Chick: That sounds like me.
–N train

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Girl #1: Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in ages!
Girl #2: I know, it’s been a while — you look great!
Girl #1: You do, too! Your hair has grown a lot since I last saw you.
Girl #2: I know what you mean — it’s all it does.
–E 86th St and Lex

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Rocker doof #1: Dude we’re having this flannel party. We’re totally going to like put on Neil Young and CCR videos and shit.
Rocker doof #2: Dude I saw this movie Hype about like grunge or whatever and everyone was wearing flannel… but it totally wasn’t ironic!
–art opening, Kent & Metropolitan, Williamsburg

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Blonde girl: So, you’re from Puerto Rico and you just moved here? Wow, that’s so exciting! Do you speak Puerto Rican?
Puerto Rican girl: No, but I speak Mexican fluently.
–Tisch Hospital, 33rd & 1st

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College kid #1: If you must choose, would you rather be taking it up the ass or be the one fucking another guy?
College kid #2: I’d be the one giving it to another guy.
College kid #1: Damn, you really are a fag.
College kid #2: And you?
College kid #1: The same.
–Yankee Stadium

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Guy: No shit. You’re a psychic? Uh… make a prediction or something.
Psychic: It’s going to rain tomorrow.
Guy: Wow. So you’re the real deal, huh? Weather straight from the source.
Psychic: Well, that, and I check weather dot com.
–R train

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HS boy #1: So you are like Chinese, right?
HS boy #2: No dude, I’m Peruvian.
HS boy #1: Where in China is that?
–4 train

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Thug #1: Yo, when I go to McDonald’s I don’t just want a fuckin’ Number One with a mothafuckin’ Coke. I want a Number One, a Coke, and a mothafuckin’ smile.
Thug #2: Word.
–Q train platform, Union Square

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Guy #1: You know, like the velvet tracksuits that everyone’s dads wore when we were growing up.
Guy #2: We didn’t all grow up on Long Island.
–6th & A

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Old woman: I bought this Caesar salad, but I don’t know where to get the dressing. Please, can you tell me where I can get some dressing?
Cute girl: Ummm, I don’t know. I’ve never had a salad here before.
Old woman: But where do you think the dressing could be?
Cute girl: Well, possibly in the refrigerator over there… where they keep the drinks?
Old woman: Are you sure?
Cute girl: Well, that’s my hypothesis, but it hasn’t been tested.
–Le Pain Quotidien, 58th & 7th

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Chick #1: …so we fucked and then he didn’t call.
Chick #2: And you’re surprised? This is the third guy in 2 weeks who hasn’t called.
Chick #1: I know, but why don’t they ever call?
Chick #2: Probably because–don’t hate me for this, k?–but you’re kind of easy.
–Garden of Eden, 14th Street

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Hipster #1 walking past large inflatable snowman: Dude, I fucking hate Christmas. It’s like, nothing but a giant celebration of modern consumer capitalism.
Hipster #2 gesturing to wreath on church door: Totally. Look, even the churches are advertising Christmas these days.
–Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn

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Man: You know that Santa Claus doesn’t exist, right?
Six-year-old boy: No, he does exist. When I wrote him a letter and asked him for pink Plush Puppies, I got them on Christmas.
Man: Dude, then you are a serious homosexual. What kind of boy asks for pink Plush Puppies?
–Rockaway

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Guy on bike: …and she said, “What are you going to do, shoot me?” and that was the last thing she ever said.
–Forest Hills

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Guy on cell: You’re in Florida? You’re driving back right? Get me a nine!…I don’t give shit where you buy it from, get me a nine milimeter. For real, all those southern states you’re driving through, you can get one from somewhere!
–DeMarco’s Pizza, Houston Street

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Man: …you better get in, nobody over 30 is allowed to walk here anymore.
–Williamsburg

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Nine-year-old boy on cell: It’s not that I don’t understand your vision, I just don’t agree with it.
–Bus stop, 79th & 5th

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Three-year-old girl waiting in check-out line: Mommy, I hate this store! Are we in the suburbs?
–Trader Joe’s, Union Square

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Conductor: This is 36th Street. Step to the side and let all the monkeys off the train. Let the monkeys off the train.
–Queens bound N train

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If you got all the way down here, you may want to visit the site, which, again, is called Overheard in New York. It really makes me think I’d love New York… except for the kids.

Dude in a Skirt

Instead of Phallic Phriday, how about Fashion Friday? Or maybe they should alternate?

Anyway, so…

I was looking for some information on walking the Appalachian Trail, other people’s experiences and whatnot, and I stumbled on the trail journal of one “Haiku,” a ginger-bearded AT through hiker. In addition to his thoughts, he included photos from practically every day of his 2004 trek, which while not always thrilling (oh, pretty view, oh another pretty view, and oh [yawn] another pretty view) were still helpful in understanding his journey’s progress through different terrains and the people he met along the way. That is reason enough to check it out, but one of his snapshots (below) helps explain Haiku’s particular claim to fame.

Yes, that’s right. He hiked the entire length of the Appalachian Trail in a kilt. And as you can (almost) see, he wore it in the, ahem, traditional manner. Sounds refreshing, I must admit. But when I saw him on a snowy hillside in a skirt — oh, sorry, kilt — I shivered involuntarily from an imaginary chill in my nether regions.

No doubt the AT is a magnet for earthy oddballs, but Haiku was no lone freak. As his photos plainly attest, there were several other kilt-wearing hikers on the trail that year. Apparently, it’s a trend, and indeed Google reveals its surprising popularity, with over a hundred thousand results for the search “hiking” and “kilt.” And while they are certainly the most numerous and eager of proponents, it’s not just the fuzzy, all-natural folk who are into it. Men from all walks of life have been secretly yearning to liberate themselves from traditional contraints, it seems, and now they are finally, to paraphrase the eternal words of Cosmo Kramer, “out there, and loving every minute of it!“

Haiku was wearing a fetching tartan number from Bear Kilts in teflon coated polyester-viscose — comfortable, durable, and stain-resistant, yet without sacrificing looks — perfect for the fashion-forward outdoorsman with special ventilation needs. Still most guys out there, unless they are actually in the Scottish Highlands (which some are), prefer to reserve the traditional look for dressier occaisions. For those in search of a casual, everyday kilt there are surprisingly numerous options.

 The Macabi MUG

There’s the Macabi (“Unbound. Unabashed. Unbifurcated.”), which is reportedly popular with river guides. Seeing them, I have to ask, “C’mon, really?” The women’s version is “the original adventure travel skirt,” but for men it’s a MUG:

“…Men’s Unbifurcated Garment built specifically for adventure travel. Smart, rugged, comfortable and versatile, a Macabi MUG will free your mind, body and spirit. Liberate yourself in an open world, unfettered by outdated societal norms, unrestrained….”

 The Running Kilt

Or for the competetive athlete, there’s the Running Kilt, which looks a lot like a cute little skirt. Alas, due to overwhelming response it is no longer available, but you can still buy the pattern and sew your own… just in case wearing a purple nylon mini-skirt isn’t emasculating enough for you.

 The Utilikilt… don’t look up!

And of course, there’s the very popular Utilikilt (“We Sell Freedom”), the Harley-Davidson of skirts for men. They’re marketed as practical, tough, and rebellious, but their prices (up to $625 for a leather version) put them out of the range of your average contruction worker (…who wears a skirt). These are for upper-middle-class roughnecks, and the fact that they offer a special “beergut” cut tells you everything you need to know about their customer base.

To its credit, however, the company does custom make every kilt to measure in the United States. And they were “founded in order to fund a global arts project, involving seven double deck busses that would travel the world, putting on an interactive road show of music, dance, video art, and drama, and leaving change in its wake.” (Translation: “We’re a bunch of hippies.”) And they do actually use the expression “gigantic clusterfuck” on their FAQ page. So okay, they still retain a little outsider street cred.

 Mountain Hardware’s functionally plain Mountain Kilt

Some guys, however, maintain that a kilt is just a practical matter — eliminate restrictive fabric, increase ventilation, reduce chafing. It’s all about, you know, technology and, like, thinking outside the box. For them, the choice is obvious: Mountain Hardware’s functionally plain and plainly functional Mountain Kilt. It has the no frills look and paradoxically synthetic-but-expensive fabric you’d expect from a respected maker of pricey outdoor gear.

And the reviews are unanimous. Joke though they may, the guys love it. Here’s a Backpacker Magazine editor’s experience, and here are some customer comments at Mountain Gear. Here at Mountain Hardware’s blog is one of their own in action, fly fishing in Chile in his kilt. They even sell them at REI; so you know it’s this close to going fully mainstream.

Balls
Where, I ask you, did this trend come from? Everybody from middle-aged New Zealanders to “anarchist” college kids is already wearing manskirts, and this it the first I’ve heard. There’s a whole shadowy netherworld of testicle liberationsists, and they’re not afraid of exposing themselves any more.

(It has even started to filter into high fashion. In his Spring 2007 signature collection, Raf Simmons took his inspiration from the global tribe of nomadic backpackers, mountain trekkers, and secular pilgrims. All the models wore backpacks, and one guy [at right] marched down the runway without pants. He was in what looked an awful lot like — you guessed it — a hiking kilt.)

Not that guys are all that casual about their casual kilts. One thing you consistently see on manufacturer websites is tough, he-man talk and lots of words like unfettered, unbound, free. The garment’s qualities are always “practical,” “rugged,” and “liberating,” invariably described as a rejection of old-fashioned restrictions imposed by a repressive society, with the ultimate result a being a manlier, more confident you. The feminist rallying cry of “Burn your bra!” has been transformed into “Burn your briefs!”

Yet, the fact that this really all comes down to a desire to feel a nice breeze on your nuts is usually glossed over entirely, or at most alluded to parenthetically in euphemistic language, as though a mere digression. But let’s face it: It’s about the balls. Is it mere coincedence that every reviewer answers (with feigned reluctance) the question of what he wore underneath? … or that invariably it was nothing?

That’s the thing about a guy in a skirt, or kilt, or whatever you want to call it: He’s doing it for his balls. You both know he’s doing it for his balls, and that forces you to think about his balls (which is probably half the reason he does it). But you may not want to think about that particular guy’s balls. You may not want to think about anybody’s balls, but if you met a guy hiking in a kilt, you’d have to. It’s like a fat guy in a Speedo; sure, it’s his right, but it’s just so wrong.

So am I against kilts? Well, no. If you’re hiking in the woods, I say go for it. If you’re smokin’ hot, then by all means go for it wherever and whenever you want. But everybody else please think long and hard before you “liberate” yourself. Consider whether the people who’ll see you would also love to see your fat hairy thighs (because they will) or your shriveled hairy scrotum (because they might), and then if the answer is no….

Containerization

Back around 1993, I was studying architecture at an art school in Savannah, Georgia, and I was fortunate enough to live on one of the world-famous squares. Directly opposite my windows, across a small sidestreet, was the Owens-Thomas House, “the finest example of English Regency architecture in America,” and I had the great pleasure of looking at it every single day. Savannah, with its wealth of gracious old buildings and a skyline still largely dominated by the bell towers of churches, was a beautiful and truly civilized place to live. (It has since been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Centre.)

 Owens-Thomas House with my old apartment in the background.

Though the Historic District is little more than one square mile, I took a long walk almost every night and never ran out of new things to see. Still, it wasn’t long before living in such a small place took its toll, and somewhat inevitably I began to get a little bored. Life was pleasant and sweet, but even la dolce vita can leave a person wanting for more after a while.

Luckily, I also lived near the river, which was just a few blocks away. Standing on the nearest corner from my place, I could look straight down Abercorn Street and see open sky beyond the low buildings, old cotton warehouses, that lined the banks. Every once in a while, I would turn that corner and find myself awestruck. Where there was usually sky, I could see the superstructure of a monstrous container ship, a behemoth looming many times larger than even the tallest building, as it was gliding smoothly past on the invisible water. It put my little city and my little life into stark perspective.

 ”I lived right there” on Oglethorpe Square near the river in Savannah.

Mundane though they may seem, those container ships always gave me a thrill because I thought of them as direct connections to exotic lands on the other side of the Earth. When I was next to the river, I could look up at the ship’s bridge and see the brown-skinned sailors looking down at me, or out at little Savannah. I wondered what they were thinking. I wondered if they despaired at the thought of spending the night in such a backwater after all of the teeming, neon-lit cities they must have seen around the world.

In that way, I was very much part of a tradition stretching back to antiquity. How many other people throughout history, bored with their little corner of nowhere, saw the arrival of a foreign ship in their harbor as a lifeline to the busier currents of humanity and all of its enticements? How many of them wondered about what was at the other end of those voyages, and how many (or few) ever found out?

Ship Nerds
And so it was in Savannah that I became interested in container ships, a curiosity that remains mostly intact after all these years. In this, I am far from alone, as the thousands of results from a flickr search will attest, and some people get quite obsessive. Here’s some Danish guy’s website that contains an extraordinary collection of organized ship photos taken in his home port of Fredericia. It’s like a nautical version of trainspotting and just as stupefyingly dull. And here’s an interesting post at The Waterlog blog (tagline: “Ocean Tech, Sail Tech, And All Things In The Marine Layer”) with a startling graphic of worldwide shipping traffic at one moment last December. It shows the location of almost four thousand container ships at sea, which the author counted himself off of the image.

  Container ship. Large even compared to the Golden Gate Bridge

Obviously, as ship nerds go I’m seriously minor league. Nonetheless, I found myself genuinely fascinated by all of the reading — all the facts, figures, and photos I dug up for this entry. For example:

• Containerization accounts for 90% of all non-bulk shipping worldwide.
• Shipping produces 4% of global carbon dioxide emissions — twice the total of all aviation and more than all African nations combined — and is expected to increase by 75% within 20 years.
• The global shipping fleet is around 70,000 ships, with some 20,000 more currently on order.
• It costs more to transport a standard shipping container 100 kilometers (62 miles) by truck than it does to move it by sea from China to Europe.

All of those facts are on a global scale, but few people give shipping a second thought. It goes on more or less invisibly, and yet virtually everything you’ve ever bought has spent time in a container that traveled onboard a ship. The world as we know it — from clothes to food, to cars, to your job, and even the whole global economy — truly depends on containerization. And that’s really very interesting.

Malaccamax
In the course of researching this entry, I discovered that the world’s largest container ship is called the Emma Maersk. At 1,302 feet, it’s 419 feet longer than the Titanic. See an excellent graphic comparison here in this article from the Wall Street Journal.

I found this interesting for two unrelated reasons. One is that I simply like the Mærsk company logo. I used to see it all the time in Savannah and though it was for some small, obscure Scandinavian shipping line. I always wanted a hat with the seven pointed star on it. Now I’ve come to find out that Mærsk is the world’s largest shipping company. I would be disappointed, except that they are based in Denmark, which I like to think of it as providing jobs for the blond.

The other reason I found the Emma Maersk interesting is because it is approaching what is called the Malaccamax, which despite the sound of it is not something you take to increase the size of your Malacca. Rather it is the largest size a ship can be and still fit through the Straits of Malacca, one of the world’s busiest shipping channels. The very idea that we could have ships that are too big for major geographic features is mindboggling.

 The Emma Maersk, world’s largest container ship. Note boats alongside.

The Outlaw Sea
A few years back I read a book on various aspects of international shipping, which I admit sounds excruciatingly dull, but was actually quite fascinating and quite troubling.

“From the panic-stricken bridge of a sinking oil tanker to the filth-clogged beaches resulting from a destroyed ship in India, Langewiesche vividly describes a global cabal of unscrupulous ship owners, well-intentioned but overmatched regulators, and poorly trained and poorly paid seamen who risk their lives every day to make this new global economy function.”

It was The Outlaw Sea: A World of Freedom, Chaos, and Crime by William Langewiesche, and I recommend it. Believe me, you’ll never look at a ship the same way again.

Portland
So here I am again, living in another easy-going, human-scaled city, which also happens to be a major port, just like Savannah. Life is even sweeter here; there’s a very high “quality of life,” but I’m still having those same longings for… what? excitement? challenges? struggle (and eventual success)? Maybe I’d just like to play a more signifcant role in the great big world out there.

From time to time, there’s a cargo vessel docked next to the Steel Bridge, which I often cross on my bike, and I’ll stand up high on my pedals to peer over at the ship’s mammoth hindquarters. I’m still awed by the sheer size, which still puts my little life in a little city into a global perspective. It’s a visible connection to the energetic hustle of foreign lands and a reminder of all there is to see out there, and it underscores (yet again) how my day today was the same as yesterday and the day before.

Sad to say, but pleasantness and ease get dull after a while; and happiness is often unsatisfying unless it is hard-won. What’s a person to do about that? What do you do when life is good, but you still want more? Or I guess I’m really asking “What do I do?”

Happy Monday

Every Monday I post photos of guys smiling.

Happy Monday – Summer Travel

Every Monday I post photos of guys smiling. This week, I’m celebrating summer travel season, and maybe I can conjure up a little sympathetic magic for myself at the same time.

Bon Voyage!

Templo de San Pedro

I was looking around the web for photos of my various ancestral homelands, and I came across this ruined church in the town of Villaldama in northern Mexico.

The old Templo de San Pedro (built in 1690) has been gutted, but they’re making the most of it. The innards are now used as a volleyball court. Seems like a cool place for a game.