Growing up, my friends constantly pressured me to get into wrestling. But try as they might, they just couldn’t get me to follow the sport. The appeal was not completely lost on me: colorful, larger-than-life figures flying across the screen, inflicting fake pain, and more drama than a daytime soap opera. It should have been something…
In the early 90s, Saturday Night Live aired one of my all-time favorite fake commercials. The ad begins with images of a rusty, rickety, dented 70’s sedan. The legendary Phil Hartman coolly rolls in and begins introducing this incredible and revolutionary vehicle. But then they slowly zoom in on each of the lemon’s imperfections. Barely…
As long as conditions permit, I try to bike to work. From my apartment to my workplace in lower Manhattan I use one of three routes – each one around 10 miles in length (give or take a mile) and each one causing varying amounts of stress. The first route, which I take when I’m…
“Andre” “ANDRE” “ANDRE!!!” I suddenly snapped back to reality. “Paul’s ready.” I had been standing on the goal line, mouth agape, staring up at the familiar beige wedges radiating from the giant scoreboard of Madison Square Garden and had completely forgotten about the task at hand. It felt strange. For once, I was there to…
The Manfrotto Mini Tripod, or the Pixi as it’s formally known, might be the most used accessory in my meager arsenal. It’s a slickly designed piece of (mostly) plastic that lacks any extraneous parts or pieces. Instead it relies on the simplicity of three stout and sturdy legs to keep it, and whatever is…