Race is for the dogs, too!
Along the same lines of the Dove ad commentary, here is another ad, this one for doggies with ticks. It also trips itself up with human race messages. The campaign is called Pooch Protest (poochprotest.com).
http://www.petparents.com/show.aspx/k9-advantix-pooch-protest
Pure breed white lab with “all-American” voice leads the mutt herd on how to empower themselves against ticks. The good doggie example (who uses the tick brand) is a blond happy doggy. The one ravagaed with ticks is sad and brown, and horrible ticks are gnawing at his mangly coat.
No, not nuts here- these images add up!
Architectural Abominations of Gentrification
Grab your bag of popcorn and take a look at how the Upper West Side continues to gentrify and loose some of its character. Gone is the beloved Greek diner that stood here (which took in some previously displaced diner workers and patrons that were usurped by the Whole Foods construction a few blocks over) and up went this white plastic…. what the heck is it? “Hip apartments” of course, that fit oh so nicely with the rest of the neighborhood’s architecture.
Checking in or Taking Out?
You tell me if this sign looks like the entrance to an Emergency Room (which it is) or an old 50’s Diner?
Once upon a Tree… Returns?
In October I blogged about the sadness of this tree pit near 59th Street-
how final its destiny looked all bricked up. But it looks like there might be some re-consideration? Here’s what the site looks like now…
Let’s see what ending this urban tree pit gets.
Here we go again…
Thanks Dove! You’ve done some work on making women love their own unique body type. But this ad in People Magazine is a bit of a step backwards on loving your skin…color. Do you have someone of color on your marketing team that might have picked this up? Tired of being on the “before” end of skin tones, body size and hair type on improvement spectrums. Yes, it could very well not be your intention, but we see this all too often in media- the subliminal messages we get on what constitutes improvement. And too often people and cultures of color are placed on the “need of improvement” end. So you gotta watch the messages you send!
The Eternal Robin Byrd
Have a basic cable TV question for you (those who are up at ungodly hours of the night or early morning). How on earth is Robin Byrd still on the air? The question doesn’t question the Queen’s throne of hosting the Sesame Street equivalent of sexual health for many of us growing up in the 80’s who were able to sneak a peak. C is for… Clitoris, of course! Do you know where your clitoris is? Here let me show you… And so on, goes her show, offering the same type of diversity as the innocent PBS counterpart. There is something for all tastes there: gender preferences, body images and fetishes. But my Lord, breast implants have come along way since the jugs you see on the show- two stiff orbs with as much space between them as the north and south poles. Brazilians (as in the haircut down south) have become the staple of today’s porn, but at Robin’s you’re sure to see a bush. Yet her shows continue to be aired, with a phone number to call into to boot (the original 970 number?). And the commercials (advertising hotlines and escort services) are the same ones from back then too. So I guess my question is, is this a cult classic? Is it supposed to appeal to that generation who grew up with it and still find those hairstyles and lack of airbrush and make-up titillating? I guess I could google it, but afraid 0f what else I’ll dredge up and’ll hijack my computer. She really means to teach you something, not just get you off. Ever see the musical orgy endings? How isn’t it Sesame Street? I’ll take a cookie, you little monster. With a tall glass of milk. She shows love to each and every one of her guests.
Welcome to the Jungle
Kudos to the Uptown Collective, Washington Heights/Inwood’s coolest blog, for finding this story.
Gun’s and Roses fans… WaHI folks, a little bit of history…
http://uptowncollective.com/2011/02/17/welcome-to-the-jungle-wash-heights-style/
Riding in the Dark
How many of you remember riding the trains in the 80’s (and I’m sure the 70’s) when most of the time the subway cars went dark as they caroused the tunnels? We’ve come a long way since then, but this morning passengers were reminded of those gritty subway days on a morning rush hour A train. Now, it’s probably not that good of an idea to get excited about the lights going out when you’re in a tin can with strangers, traveling through holes fairies (or other magical engineering beings) drilled underground oh-so-long ago. But given that this subway car was not too packed, I think it was exciting. We were forced to abandon our books and magazines (the gadget-people were still looking at the screens, I’m sure) and remember where we were. A view of the tunnels is so much more clear when the lights are off. It makes the ride more of an adventure. There was no epileptic flickering of the lights (the lights back then never really completely went out without first flickering), just cold darkness for about 3 stops. Then the lights came on and everyone dug their noses back into their private bubbles. Still, it was like being a kid again, staring out into the tracks in the dark, hearing the roar of the tracks because the car doors keep opening and closing with the heavy swaying of the train… when life seemed more tangible and less digital.
Barrio Dreams
A recommended book for those with an interest in topics on gentrification in NYC, NuyoRican Heritage and the politics of neighborhoods. Not a light read (very academic), but it provides some really interesting insight in some of the history of “El Barrio”- it’s relationship to Harlem, the Economic Empowerment Zone and El Museo del Barrio (had no idea it was originally a museum for Puerto Rican heritage that slowly erased its Nuyoricanness to market itself a more sanitized and profitable “Pan-Latin Museum” That’s a harsh summary and there’s more to it, but that’s the short you can take out from reading the book). Neighborhood improvement projects aren’t as simple as they sound. Neither is immigration.
When Salsa Kicks your Butt
It was inevitable. Nova has her first salsa related injury after blogs joking about the dangers of the dance form. But this one didn’t involve a salsa character partner. It was a pearl that did me in. For those not in the know, a pearl is the last half of a diamond, a shine that ends in basically two quick squats. To be fair, it wasn’t the source of the injury, but it did make it worse. Stretching was the match to the straw and gasoline. Out of salsa commission for a few weeks, I’m turning to sports techniques to prevent loosing my Jedi readiness of being an 0n-2 follower:
- Mental visualization. They say it helps athletes to visualize over and over a certain play, jump, free throw… So why not turn patterns and shines? So far, I find this useless. Putting on music and staring into the ceiling trying to conjure mental images of dancing with a partner doesn’t work as a follower for me! And truthfully, I’m afraid that such deep concentration will will myself into some parallel salsa dimension that I won’t be able to get back from.
- Dancing in place. Sort of. Related to above, but with a slight attempt to mimic the footwork. Inherently dangerous of retriggering the injury. And you might scare your spouse that you’re having a stroke, shuffling like that.
- Indoctrination through videos. I do this anyway, and it does work. Watch turn pattern videos over and over, rewinding to specific moves. Memorize. Memorize. Memorize. Experiment on unsuspecting leaders when the time is right. Risk? Same as mental visualization-willing yourself into another salsa dimension with no way back.
- Mediate to the music and become one with the count. We’re back to the risks of #1. But I actually think this is the key to obtaining the holy grail of on-2 and becoming an almighty Scissor. I think I’ll focus on the music and the count, and try to figure out how I can break its barrier and master it. How to make my feet dance around the count of the flute and not just the clave.
So that’s how Nova will see things. She’s on a mental salsa retreat, a recluse in the hills and caves of Inwood. Who knows, I might return a better dancer! If it’s been awhile since you’ve heard from me, someone look for me in another dimension. Bring your dance shoes. You might want to stay.
