Things that make me smile

This video, for instance.

Out of the pan, into the fire, into … the pilot light?

What does it mean when you’ve graduated from grad school, gotten a decent job where you can apply the principles you’ve learned … and then consider taking more classes, in the same specialty, at a different school? Is this not madness?

Well, maybe a little.

But it’s also further schooling in areas I hadn’t specifically studied, so I guess there’s no harm in juggling what is essentially a full time job and a class. Doubling my workload while I’m at it. And subjecting me to twice the time pressures. On the other hand, given the circumstances of the offer, if it works out, how could I resist?

Does this all sound cryptic? Well, as others may note, dem’s the breaks. Needless to say, I’m a glutton for punishment, a mental masochist. And apparently someone who doesn’t treasure sleep as much as he should.

In other news, um, Tom Brady and Bill Belichick $u><0rz d00d!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shhh …

Don’t tell anyone (not that anyone’s reading), but I thought I’d write a quick update. I am still alive; I am still working; I am still sleep-deprived. The upshot is that now I understand what I write about to a fair extent.

It’d be pure folly to say that I’ll be writing here regularly from now on, not after I sort of dropped out for about four months, but it might be nice to drop in every now and then. Time progresses, and the world has seen tectonic shifts, as has to a smaller extent the city I came to start writing about. Perhaps I’ll be able to document it again, albeit from a different angle. It’s amazing though that, prior to certain engagements, I had no idea how much the city depended on the financial sector, and yet how finance may help squelch the flavour and much of the fun out of the place. More on that later, but for now, a quick signoff.

gaaaah

the centre cannot hold

Why we do what we do

This has been a pretty busy week, so I haven't had a lot of time or energy to post lately. But there are definitely things to talk about: insider trading, Enron, etc., that have become increasingly fascinating and vital topics.

Before I get to those, though, I'd just recommend that everyone pick up a copy of this month's Esquire and read "The School", by New York Times Moscow correspondent C.J. Chivers. While, contra Esquire's assertion that it's the most horrific terror attack of our time, it certainly is one of the most brutal, one that shows how violence begets violence and yet how none of this is done without reason. And Chivers covers it in riveting detail, all blood and sweat and cordite.

In a fit of pique (or pride), I’ll actually talk about work

In a very circumspect way, of course. But while I still–still!–feel a bit tentative about my job, surrounded as I am with some of the best and brightest in my profession, people for whom I have a tremendous amount of respect, I will say that my bosses are quite kind and, naturally, have a way with words. Herewith, an excerpt of my introduction sent on the office listserv:

At Lincoln Center last week, his N.Y.U. graduation ceremony had to compete with the hoopla over the emergence of David Blaine from a water-filled sphere. With graduate school and his first stories … now behind him, we hope that Michael — like Mr. Blaine — can take a moment to come up for air.

Ain't that enough to make a guy feel all warm and fuzzy inside and make the 4:30 a.m. alarms worth it? Other than the sheer thrill and satisfaction of doing what I do best, of course. Next stop, though: my own e-mail address. And more stories, of course. 

Check tomorrow

The J. strikes again.

Graduating tomorrow

and yet, it doesn’t feel the same as the first time. Somehow, it doesn’t feel as “real”, even though the money to get me through it sure was. Still, I’ll have an honest to God M.A. “Master,” I suppose I’m entitled to–well, not really, but one can dream.

Of course, I’ll be heading to the ceremony pretty much straight from work, a situation funny only because it was made possible by this program, and sort of dampens any elation from formally concluding it. I guess in a sense, I’d already made my peace with having graduated, and the most important things–my friends, my mentors, my skills–are what stick with me the most.

Anywho, carry on.

The occasional fine whine

As it’s my wont to occasionally Google myself, I’ve found that my name crops up on a fair number of Web sites. However, there’s one problem: it’s almost uniformly misspelled.

Folks, it’s easy. It’s “de la”, not “De La”, which is not only incorrect, but an aesthetic dagger to my heart. I’ll have to look into seeing whether that can be corrected in future bylines by having the “de la” printed in lower case next time.

Of course, 99 percent of the population will tell me to shut the hell up about this, so what do I know?

Columbia’s B-School of Rock

I posted this elsewhere, but Glenn Hubbard is:

1. the dean of Columbia Business School
2. former chair of the Council of Economic Advisers
3. a former candidate for Alan Greenspan’s replacement as Federal Reserve chair, snubbed for Ben S. Bernanke
4. incapable of expressing his feelings outside of a Police song

Disclaimer: this post has nothing to do with bumping up traffic for any particular blog. Nothing at all.

At “Take your kid to work day” …

I think I sat in a corner of my dad’s office and read a couple of random contracts. The Times, on the other hand, has a more involved endeavour. Note that this year’s issue isn’t up yet. But in sum, the kids get to scurry around the building, conduct live interviews–the Washington bureau kids really have it made with their interviews of White House flacks and the Secret Service–and otherwise print their own version of The Times.

And while you’re at The Times Learning Network, try your hand at the news quiz, something I’ll undoubtedly drill my kids on every friggin’ week. (I didn’t clean up on the test.)

Note to self

When you’re reporting in a ritzy NYC suburb, don’t whip out your notepad. Don’t talk to neighbors. Don’t take pictures. Don’t walk around the house in question, trying to write up a nice description.

Even when you’re dressed respectably, identify yourself right away, and speak politely, it might still prompt them to call the cops on you. And while that in and of itself might not lead to anything, except a cool war story, it’s odd nonetheless.

Confirmation

Sunday.

Addendum for all my dear readers, all two of you: Use the “J.” or not?

And a bonus tip

From one financial newbie to others:

When a company announces it’s looking for “strategic alternatives” or “strategic planning”, read that as “we’re putting ourselves up for sale”.

City driving

It almost inevitably involves having cabs nearly wreck your rear; trailer-less cabs cutting you off from getting in their lane and then honking when you pull into another’ pedestrians who don’t seem to put a premium on life; and parking that costs more than my biweekly paycheque.

Which is to say, this was my first time in a long time driving in to the city, and certainly the first time driving in for work. (That today’s trip gets expensed does make it better, however.)