Stable Indictment

At long last, Donald Trump has been indicted for one of his many alleged crimes. Let justice prevail. 

EDIT: Make that more than 30 alleged crimes. 

Nelson and Murdock's Apartment Building

Just now, in the wee hours of the morning, I finished painting this 28mm-scale New York office/apartment building. 

As you can see, this building is set in the Marvel Comics version of New York. 

I believe this is the largest terrain piece I've painted so far. 

I tried to make the building look a little grungy and aged by adding a murky ink wash and some dry brush effects. 

I'm quite pleased that the Nelson and Murdock sign is legible. The dry brushing here isn't perfect, but given how teeny-weeny the job, I'm more than happy. 

Another Destination for the Post-COVID Era

 

In Ticonderoga, New York, there exists a faithful recreation of the sets used to shoot the original Star Trek series. Now that I know this is a real thing in the world, I must of course experience it. Now I just need to decide if I should go by land (an 80-hour round trip), or just fly to Montreal and rent a car for the short drive to Ticonderoga . . . 

Ninja Sylvia

Earl of Green Gables, Day Three: Taking a Gander at Gander

I thought it would be nice to venture a little further inland, so we drove to Gander, mostly just to say we'd been there and to create a touchpoint between this trip and last year's journey to New York, where we saw Come From Away on Broadway--the play, of course, being set in Gander in the immediate wake of the 9/11 disaster. Unfortunately, this was one of the few gloomy days of the trip, and Gander itself--no slight on the town intended--reminded me a little too much of the isolated towns I grew up in in northern Manitoba to present much of new interest.

However, Sylvia and I did enjoy a laugh-filled--nigh hysterical, in fact--conversation over lunch, started by, of all things, a game of darts on the television. I'm afraid I made something of a spectacle of myself, losing my composure. I can't share the conversation here for fear of making readers think I'm insane, sadly. 

Brooklyn Beach

We return to New York, but this time we stay in south Brooklyn, our hotel on the very shores of the Atlantic. Something goes wrong; we awaken in the ocean, chest deep, dressed in shirts and shorts, as if for a sunny day out. The morning is overcast, a uniform foggy grey, the waters tempestuous, threatening to drag us to our doom. We clasp hands and walk through the churning ocean, the beach a mile or so away, digging our bare feet into the submerged sand, step by difficult step. To our left and right, we see other couples cast into the same predicament. Shouting encouragement back and forth across the waves, we all stagger more or less together onto the beach, the surf still tugging at our ankles as if hoping to pull us back into the ocean's clutches.

There follows a brief interlude of confusion and questions, but none of us have any answers. Soaking wet and exhausted, we return to our hotels.

The next day, you decide to rest while I head into the city. To my astonishment, I spot a floating businessman; he's soaring, legs crossed, a couple of metres above the sidewalk. He's wearing a white suit with a matching porkpie hat, and he is laughing as though all his cares had been forever banished.

I wave him down, and he flies over effortlessly.

"You've got to try this," he says, reaching overhead to pluck what looks like a square couch cushion out of the air. It's black and white, about a meter square, and as soon as he pulls it to the level of his chest, gravity suddenly renews its hold on him and he drops to his feet.

He hands me the square; it's soft, malleable. I regard it dubiously, but then tentatively raise it over my head and let go. It remains suspended above me, and I find that I am suddenly weightless; but better than that, I can will myself forward and back, up, down, sideways, wherever I want.

It is euphoric. I rise above the city like Superman, swooping to and fro, diving to within a hair's breadth of the earth, grass tickling my chest, then rising to the edge of space. After a few minutes of this, I return to the street where I saw the businessman. With real regret, I return his device.

"Is it magnetic...no, that can't be right. Does it somehow block gravity..?"

He just smiles and says he thinks it's going to be a big hit. A little later, I return to our hotel room and I tell you about it; you're skeptical until we see a commercial about the flying machine.

We relax on the couch together, and darkness closes in until the light of the television is snuffed out. 

Mondrian in Motion

The Voyage Home

An early morning cab ride through Queens and we're back at LaGuardia, tired but happy. I knew I'd enjoy the experience, but I'm surprised by just how much I loved this city. Not for a moment did we feel unsafe or unwelcome. Both of us were amazed by what I now see as a true multitude of diversity, not just in terms of ethnicity and culture (though certainly that), but also in temperament, demeanor, fashion, attitude, occupation, even, if I may say unscientifically, aura. New York is perhaps the most worldly city I've yet visited, though of course I've never been to Europe, Africa, South America or Australia.

The greatest reward, though, is the sheer joy Sylvia experienced. She had a number of "New York experiences" that were lifelong dreams for her, and I'm so glad I was along for the ride to see her happiness.

So farewell, New York, and thank you. I hope we return one day. 

The Eventual Anticlimax

For our last full day in New York, Sylvia and I concoct an ambitious plan to visit Grand Central Terminal, peruse its shops and entertainment, and perhaps even embark on a short train journey. But our plans are thwarted, because the rain is far to heavy to walk the distance and we can't get a cab because of the high demand from United Nations delegates in town for the gathering of the UN General Assembly. Resigned, we hit the closest diner for breakfast and spend the rest of the day catching some sleep for the early morning flight that lies ahead.

New York is by no means a dirty city, but this is, in fact, how they put their garbage out. Trash piles are everywhere, and Sylvia insists on a photo to ensure we show as many facets of the New York experience as possible. 

Intrepid Excursion and Laughter in Gotham

Sylvia takes a morning of rest as I venture to the USS Intrepid Air, Sea, and Space Museum. While I have a passing interest in military history, I'm really here for one thing: the space shuttle Enterprise, which now rests on the deck of the Intrepid.

The flight deck holds several helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft from across the last several decades.

The real prize--the Enterprise--is inside a weatherproof enclosure on the flight deck. Only when you see one up close do you realize how large these things are.

The museum also houses a used Soyuz capsule. I soon realize I missed seeing Richard Garriot (creator of the Ultima games who flew into space a couple of years back as a private citizen) by one day. One day!

Roomy.

After basking in the glow of the Enterprise for a while, I explore the Intrepid's conning tower.

Many dials, buttons, and switches tempt me to twist, push, and flip them. But I resist.

And that is where we are.

The hangar deck is home to a number of interactive and special exhibits.

The Intrepid in Lego.

Intrepid recovered many returning astronauts. Here's a Mercury capsule recreation.

And a Gemini mockup.

All smiles as we prepare for an evening of laughs at the Gotham Comedy Club.

The stage after the sets.

This set list is missing an unexpected guest: Jim...something. I don't know him, but it's an appearance that thrills Sylvia.