[Photo Credit: Sophiebeatrice]
Sunday
April 5, 2026
Since 2002
Blog Archives
Million Dollar Movie
Here’s Jeff Feuerzieg’s short on Jeff Dowd the inspiration for Jeff Lebowski.
THE DUDE (Director’s Cut) from Jeff Feuerzeig on Vimeo.
No High School Charley Horseshit
When I first saw Patrick Hruby’s long piece for ESPN on Doc Ellis I thought to myself: Do we really need another Doc Ellis story? Then I read it and was duly impressed.
Hruby is a talented writer. Check out this story for Sports on Earth on why he won’t be watching football this year; or this piece on professional video game players, or “Murder By Cricket” which was featured in The Best American Sports Writing 2008.
Yeah, Hruby is a good one.
[Photo Credit: Ray Stubblebine/AP]
This Is It (Make No Mistake Where You Are)
The Yanks host the Orioles this weekend at the Stadium. Next week, they go to Tampa for three and then to Baltimore for a four-game series.
So, here it is, the Yanks have been mincing around for a month and now they’ve got their toughest ten-game stretch of the season.
I wonder if they’ll rise to the occasion. I can’t call it.
[Photo Credit: Matthew Pugliese]
Million Dollar Movie
Via Slate, dig this clip of Stanley Kubrick’s one-point perspective:
New York Minute
The stillness of New York at the end of the summer.
And a passage from E.B. White’s Here is New York:
“There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something…Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion. ”
Morning Art
Sandness by original_ann.
Rules of the Game
Over at Harper’s check out this 1947 contract between Kurt Vonnegut and his pregnant wife.
These Are the Breaks
My friend Mike C is a dedicated record collector. In the summer of 1995 he took me to A-1, a record shop in the East Village. I flipped through the stacks for about ten minutes, got tired, and started a conversation with a blond-haired kid standing near the counter. He was open and friendly, a rarity in boutique record shops where attitude reigns supreme.
About an hour later, Mike had gone through all of the crates, including the ones on the floor, and he came up with a copy of BDP’s second record for $2. Right then I knew I’d never be a beat junkie. I didn’t have the stamina or the drive.
I didn’t return to the store for close to a year and when I did the friendly guy was sitting behind the counter. His name was Jared Boxx and we became friends. Not long after that he joined two British guys, Steve and Rob, when they opened their own store–specializing in vintage soul, breakbeats and old school hip hop records. It was called The Sound Library.
Later still, Steve and Jared split and opened their own shop on 12th between A and B: Big City Records.
I collected records intensely when I was in my twenties but by 2000 or 2001 was on to other interests. I still went to see Jared who always hipped me to new music. He burned rare records to cd for me, then made MP3s as technology shifted. One day I asked him about a specific record and he said, “No, that isn’t for you.”
I was offended. How was he sure that I wouldn’t like it? Because that was Jared’s gift. He made it his business to know his customers’ tastes. So it was common to walk in the shop and find that he’d stashed away a record. “I thought you might like this.” Jared did this for all of his regulars, from the guys who spent their most of their paycheck each week on vinyl to hip hop producers like Q-Tip, Finesse, Primo, and the Beatnuts.
Jared is a humble man, not one to seek the spotlight. But he believed that music should be shared not hoarded and kept private. And the the store became an extension of his personality. It was a meeting place, a place of community. I’m pleased that I turned him on to a few records too, like when I found a bootleg De La Soul track that Pete Rock produced…
…Or when I lucked into four copies of the Lootpack’s debut EP buried in the stacks at Beat Street.
But times change and while people still buy records they do most of their shopping on-line. So when the rent went up, Big City decided to close it’s doors in town (an adjunct store in New Jersey will remain open).
They say goodbye tomorrow and the store will be missed. But instead of lamenting the end of an era I’d like to acknowledge what a great run Jared and Steve have enjoyed. The fellas at Big City touched many lives and that will not soon be forgotten.
If you are around, fall through and take one last look. Oh, and keep diggin’.
Cause I Bake the Cake, Then Take the Cake and Eat it Too
Yanks go for seconds this afternoon against the Jays at the Stadium.
It’s the Big Fella.
Derek Jeter SS
Nick Swisher 1B
Robinson Cano 2B
Andruw Jones RF
Curtis Granderson CF
Steve Pearce DH
Jayson Nix 3B
Ichiro Suzuki LF
Chris Stewart C
Oh, Scoretruck, where art thou?
Never mind those Birds on the Creep: Let’s Go Yank-ees!
[Photo Credit: Jacinda Russell]
Morning Art
Picture by Mauli Hans…via This Isn’t Happiness.
Taster’s Cherce
Serious Eats tries Nigel Slater’s recipe for a salad of summer leaves, cured pork and cherries.
New York Minute
Guy on the train next to me this morning. Paper folded the old-fashioned way. Don’t see that much anymore. Like my grandfather used to do. I asked him who taught him how to fold the paper that way and he said, “My father.”
He sounded apologetic. “It’s just the way I do it.”
I told him it was a beautiful thing.
Hughes Expectations
Hughes on the hill.
Derek Jeter SS
Nick Swisher 1B
Robinson Cano 2B
Steve Pearce DH
Russell Martin C
Curtis Granderson CF
Andruw Jones RF
Jayson Nix 3B
Ichiro Suzuki LF
Never mind the Band Aids: Let’s Go Yank-ees!
[Illustration by Tang Yau Hoong]
"This ain't football. We do this every day."
--Earl Weaver
--Earl Weaver