JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

Note: Still tracking down the images that originally appeared in this post. Day 2 - Metropolitan Museum of Art/Harlem/American Museum of Natural History/32nd & 2nd area All early indications pointed towards decent weather for our trip. As Monday night rolled around, all of the local stations suddenly predicted a monster storm, going into the full-panic mode American TV stations love to go into when more a dusting of snow occurs. We figured there wasn't anything to worry about. Wrong. At least our plans could handle a storm. If it had been an episode of Polka Dot Door, it would have been "get ready, get set for Museum Day." By the time we hit the Met , the storm had started in earnest, with strong winds making it hard to walk from the subway station to the museum. The day soon became an exercise in seeing how long Amy's feet would hold up. The Met is not a puny museum - unless you spent a few days there or had Flash-like powers, it's impossible to

Spent all day Friday in bed. Throat felt worse than it did the day before, body was numb. No way would I be able to sit in front of a computer all day. Didn't get any additional sleep - I had intended to do some work from home if I felt up to it, but I forgot the reference book I needed. I spent 12 hours throwing movies into the VCR (note it was videotape, not DVD - I was too lethargic to bend down and switch the plugs. For some reason, the plug for my printer won't fit into any power bar and my workspace has a lack of outlets. So, I have to switch between a power bar containing the DVD plug and the printer). Was in too much misery to enjoy most of them. My throat was so raw that any liquid burned. Felt a bit better yesterday, well enough to escape the house. A day-and-a-half of being shut in is enough to give me a king-size dose of cabin fever. Hadn't been for a stroll downtown since returning from New York. Monster lineup running out of Sunrise Records - lat

Note: Still tracking down the images that originally appeared in this post. Every three years, like clockwork, I head down to the Big Apple for a few days of stretching the limits to which my feet can walk. Last trip was in '01, which stands out in my mind for being one of the last times I talked to my father on the phone and a wonderful walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (I should get my partner in crime on that trip to jot down her memories sometime). I tried to recruit anyone I could think of to come along, but time, finances and maladies got in the way. Looked like I was on my own until Amy decided to come along. I booked the hotel online, then decided we'd go by train. Flying is faster, but I hate going through the whole security/waiting rigamaroll at the airport. Hadn't been on a train in ages and I didn't want to risk driving into any sudden winter storms. The trip down took a long time, but didn't feel worse than a flight across the Atlantic. One fa