This is another one of those posts where I update the site at the most inopportune time; presently, it is the hour before my permanent move from New York and a long day of plane travel. Why the plane? you ask. It's because the train (Via and Amtrak) is totally not recommended. Read: Not Recommended. They usually blame the ten-hour delay on snow and ice (here, I say 'ten-hour' not as a cheap tool within an exaggerated narrative to be humourous, but as a real increment of time that I personally experienced twice at the hands of their "professionalism"), but, even without such niveous monstrosities, they will find other ways to suck, like, two-hour delays on the account of the autumn foliage being breathtaking. Or something stupid to that effect.
Reading back, I've decided that writing at six in the morning is also not recommended. The News Archive | Email
Attention New Yorkers: I am giving away a wood dresser with six drawers and a flimsy, metal shelf thing. Let me know if you're interested. I know there are at least eleven of you who are reading within Manhattan, so don't be shy. I know you want a flimsy, metal shelf thing.
Latest news: Will be performing as soloist in Haydn's Sinfonia Concertante this Saturday at 8 p.m., Good Shepherd Church, 66 Street West, between Broadway and Amsterdam. Beethoven's Emperor Concerto and a percussion piece by Zannoni are also on the program. I have comp tickets available, so if you're interested, email.
In a rush. Going to New York this morning. I'm trying to do this thing where I update the site at the most inopportune time, and, honestly, while trying to catch a plane is one of them. I just checked my itinerary and I'm leaving at 11:15 am and I'm to arrive at 12:38 pm. My question is why they're being so precise. Who aims to get anywhere by 12:38? Anything can happen to throw the schedule off just one minute. They do everything else in a roundabout way, like when taxiing off the runway takes an unprecedented 30 minutes. Are they timing when the tire hits the pavement, or when we actually get off the plane? Or will it be 12:38 when we're allowed to unbuckle our seatbelts? They don't know. And if anyone says anything about not arriving at 12:38, they'll get technical and say, "We meant, At 12:38 you'll be able to see LaGuardia with a telescope from the cockpit." This whole arrival time thing makes me very, very angry: It's so precisely hazy about the details. The News Archive | Email
Congratulations to Matthew and Michelle who got married today. This is the Michelle that gave this site a music video. Beautiful day with sun bathing the outdoor court; it was neat being surrounded by the gothic, stone architecture and seeing only the blue sky above. It was like a different time and a different place. Minus the odd-looking radio antennae poking at the sky, the sound equipment, and passing planes.
Recently been getting a lot of people proofreading my site. I suppose that's the price to pay when I poke fun at the spelling errors in Emails of the Week. This site now stays grammatically buoyant through volunteer internet editors.
My time here at home is coming to an end and I won't be back until July. Look for updates in the next two days. Travelling back to New York on a Monday. Uh oh. But it could just be airports in general.. The News Archive | Email
There's something about the Canadian air that makes me want to update the homepage. I was just telling a friend that I enjoy the time hanging out with my dogs. He thought that was a crass way of labeling my friends, but I literally meant my dogs. Not the street thugs I befriended when I was in high school. Afterall, street thugs don't naturally assume such cuddly names like Cocoa, Timbit, Bear, and Sticker.
I suppose when speaking of my dogs, to depart from my usual hip hop vernacular and avoid confusion, I should say something along the lines of, "Enjoying my time at home, hanging out with the canis domesticus." But what a mouthful it is to be proper.
I have fast and breaking news, but half of the news doesn't want to break so fast. So here's your half-news: I like half-news. The News Archive | Email
I'm getting ready to move out of New York. All year I've been trying not to accumulate any junk so that moving would be easy. I'm not sure if it's worked, but I'm going to find out this week. There will be few updates on this particular page in the next little while. I'll update the Irr's but the News of the Days are played out. Or maybe I am. I don't know.
I cannot say publicly where I'll be in September yet, but the summer has me travelling quite a bit between New York and within Canada. Having to buy an extra seat for my cello has been an interesting ordeal but, fortunately, and a tad confusingly, she is earning more airmiles than me.
Take care and, til the next update, don't do anything that I would.
The other day I had cheese fries with gravy that were both threatening to my immediate health and not good. All in all, I'd call this a lose-lose situation.
I went for this combination because I was hoping for something like Quebec's poutine, where cheese curds melt with the hot gravy poured liberally all over the fries. This didn't happen, though. Nor does my heart thank me for the effort. I would say that my tastebuds and my heart are at serious odds with one another.
Today, I was dragged out to go running in Central Park with my friend Pablo DePowski. My body was screaming at me: "What do you think you're doing? This isn't productive at all. Why are we running around for no apparent reason? I don't see any sign of wolves or any sort of danger." Fortunately, I plan on never doing this again. The News Archive | Email
I should probably explain that in the last post, where I mentioned that I was an organ donor, I meant only that I have a card somewhere that says I'm willing to give up my guts after I die. By skill of deduction, you may have realized this hasn't happened yet. I am still in possession of what God has given me; if I can have a say in the matter, and at the risk of sounding selfish, I intend to keep all my organs until I'm done with them.
In other news, Amos is back at it, folks. The webmaster of adrianfung.com is going to be making some changes for next week (though minor in terms of the general look of the site); there'll be something happening in the Store section.
The other night, I saw a dark blue van rushing across the intersection, piercing the muggy night air with a strident siren and flashing lights. On its side, written in yellow paint, were the words "Organ Donor Transport".
Obviously, these people were either rushing to someone's apartment where someone just died or they were on their way to the hospital with something in a jar. It made me think of how awkward the whole thing could be, the idea of passing over your innards. Think of the quiet serenity of death and the conflicting agendas within the room: On one side, your family and friends, in a heightened awareness of transience, sobbing at the idea of separation, perhaps with a mixture of relief and regret at the fleeting preciousness of experience, at the fragility of it all; on the other, a group of determined people who are there primarily for your pancreas.
I don't know if I'll get hotly criticized for this but I'd like to point out that I'm not making light of death and I'm an organ donor myself. It could be awkward is all I'm saying. The News Archive | Email
The News Archive | Email