Out of this world

Between the NYC marathon and the insanity that was Halloween, it was a big weekend around these parts. There's also a certain team from hell in the World Series right now, which a lot of people seem to think is a really big deal, but whatever.

Watching finishers swaggering around in their metallic space blankets made me want to start training for next year's marathon immediately. Runners wrapped in those babies may as well have had "BADASS" branded on their foreheads. Crowds parted for them. Swathed in mystique, they flaunted those tinfoil sheets like battle scars. A gritty glint in their eyes said, "Yeah, I just ran twenty-six miles. Now get out of my way, because I'm about to puke."


I saw one guy running in a pair of FiveFingers, which made me happy beyond all reason.


This was my first New York Halloween, so I checked out the Greenwich Village parade despite the rain. It was as if a big soggy lingerie bomb had exploded in Manhattan. 


It was fun taking in the scene, but I also found myself jumping out of my skin because I hate not being able to walk freely. I relish stretching my legs with a nice long stride, and now that I think about it, crowded sidewalks are one of my least favorite things about city living. I frequently get the urge to punch slow walkers in the back of the head. 


Later in the evening, I headed back to Brooklyn where the costumes were a lot less slutty and a whole lot more ironic. They do loft parties right in Williamsburg - there was a keg of Brooklyn Lager. Good stuff.


As for my costume... well, lately I am tempted at least a dozen times a day to be that Red Sox fan starting "Yankees suck!" chants in the middle of Manhattan. So I chose to fully embrace that urge and go as Belligerent Bostonian Killed By An Irate Baseball Bat-Wielding Yankees Fan.

I pretty much acted as obnoxious as possible. It went over well.

When you get old and start losing your hair/Can you tell me who will still care?

Since my last post,

1) The Red Sox left their heads most decidedly up their asses and got themselves eliminated.

2) The Rockies, my backup team, flamed out shortly thereafter.

3) I don't even want to talk about the Patriots.

4) I saw Barefoot Truth, and they were an explosion of awesomeness and flannel.

I took some pictures, but either my camera was having issues or I just suck at taking low-light photos. I salvaged a couple that weren't too horrible and tinkered with them a bit in Photoshop so that instead of crappy and blurry, they look cool and artistic. Or maybe pretentious and contrived. Your call.

And the next night?

Okay, look. I did something that you might judge me for. And it's cool if you do. I'll understand. But if seeing Hanson in concert makes me a bad half-assed hippie, then I don't want to be right.

With the exception of a few guys (either gay or putting forth an inspired effort to get laid that night), the audience was female and mid-twenties: legions of "MMMBop"-singing teeny boppers all grown up. It was glorious.

Oh, the days when a toss of Zac's long tresses made my heart flutter. I remember going to the orthodontist's office in eighth grade after someone threw a frisbee into my teeth during a game of Ultimate (yet another reason why I'm a bad half-assed hippie: I now freak out when a disc whizzes even remotely close to my face). I had to get my front teeth fixed and I was a teary, hyperventilating mess.

But then a Hanson song came on, and I felt like everything was going to be okay. (How adorable was I? And pathetic?)

Anyway, my point is this: I would have done terrible things for a chance to see them when I was twelve, and I never got the chance.

...until yesterday. Boom. Full circle! No regrets!

As for why I'm talking about them in a blog that's supposed to be about crunchy stuff, they actually organized a one-mile barefoot walk earlier that day as part of their "Use Your Sole" tour. They're raising money for a number of different causes including AIDS treatment and research and drilling wells for clean water in Africa. Good stuff.

I've heard a lot of 1997-themed punchlines in the last 24 hours, but the crazy thing is, Hanson is actually totally legit now. Great musicians, great performers.

And yes, they played "MMMBop."

Ode to Fall on the East Coast

There were two mornings last week when I woke up and was actually cold. After the miserable, hot, sticky nights we'd been having, I was positively giddy. I didn't know what to do with myself. It's warmed up again since, but that little tantalizing taste was enough to get me daydreaming about my favorite time of year.

Photo credit goes to Paul Keleher


Fall is the one season the east coast does better than Colorado. Summers in the west are cooler at night and drier. In the winter, the powder is phenomenal. In the spring, it doesn't get as rainy and muddy and the kayaking is at its best because of the snowmelt. And the fall? It's beautiful, don't get me wrong. The aspens turn a brilliant gold and the already spectacular views get even better.


But the thing is, out east, you get the full palette. I like some red and orange in the mix with my yellow. Then there's cranberry bogs, apple orchards, cider mills, pumpkin picking - and even though some of those things can be found out west, for me, the thrill of them will always be inextricably linked to that multicolored backdrop set against a pristine blue sky.


Chilly hands after bike rides through crisp air, goose-bumped knees and flushed cheeks after running through the woods... I can't wait. Leaves burning. Hot apple cider, haunted houses. Halloween. Bundling up in jeans and a soft sweater and a warm scarf. That smell in the air. And with luck, the Red Sox deep in the postseason.


(I know this is a New York blog, but I'm a Massachusetts girl by birth and I'll be damned if I pander to Yankees fans.)


A few crunchy things I have on the docket headed into the fall:


Free tai chi at Bryant Park
The Long Island Fall Festival
Free kayaking on the Hudson
Minor League baseball on Coney Island - give it up for the Brooklyn Cyclones!
Biking around Staten Island and Governor's Island
Running on Roosevelt Island
Brooklyn Botanical Garden
Astoria Beer Garden (hey, it's a garden!)


I'm also working on making my room in Brooklyn feel less like an urban concrete cage and more like an earthy retreat, not an easy task seeing as the window is about 80% bricked over by another building and when I got here, the walls were a color I will dub "Mint Vomit." But I'm giving it my best shot.