Adam and Peter go to...

Adam and Peter are on an Excellent Adventure.

2006-04-08T22:38:00.000-04:00

Over the past week, Peter and I have been putting a lot of thought into the history of bohemias in the late twentieth century. We have also been talking about the hey day of gen-x dude culture: epitomized by the satiric duo of Bill and Ted. These two sources of inspiration drove us onto our own excellent adventure!

If you are going to go back in time you need two things: 1) guts; and, 2) a time machine. Peter and I knew we had the guts, but the time machine...
We decided to talk to the people at the Home Depot tool rental department. Sure enough, they had exactly what we needed.

An un-named investor in the Adam and Peter project helped us with the transportation of this gargantuan peice of machinery, and arranged for its installation in a top secret Williamsburg warehouse space. Here we go!

WAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!

1st stop: Woodstock. Peter and I spent a few days perusing the crowds at this notorious event, and learned that there was a brighter future on the horizon. That future was up to the youth to create. It would be peaceful, and sex would be free. In the yellow shirt above, Peter is tripping pretty hard on a wicked Hendrix guitar solo.

After woodstock, we set our time machine back a few years, and headed over to San Francisco in the Haight Ashbury days of the middle sixties. Peter was hanging out with Ken Kesey and all of the merry pranksters on some kind of fluorescent bus. I decided to try my hand at some collective action when it occured to me that — if succesful — my efforts would have removed Peter from North America. My logic: if there was no war, Peter's family would have never moved from Vietnam to Canada, hence creating the possibility of a time paradox that may have resulted in the world's implosion. Upon this realization, I quickly dropped the sign and went to find Peter.

The sixties were pretty cool and all, but we felt like we should move on, as we only had the Home Depot rental for 24 hours. We hadn't the wits to realize that you can take a time machine back any time you like (as you can travel through time with it). Had we known this, we would have paid for a four hour rental, and not a 24hr rental, and saved 12 dollars. Here I am, having a cup of tea with the Sex Pistols and giving the finger to someone who may or may not support the Queen.

After our lunch with the punks, we decided to visit the birth place of contemporary dance music: the Hacienda. It was funny: it looked and sounded exactly like a lot of the parties we attend around New York these days. We felt an eery sense of deja vu, and decided to book it for a big Manchester Rave instead.

Du du du du du du du du du du dee dee dee dee dee dee dee...
Peter had a wicked time. He was acting strangely, and talking a lot, but he seemed really really happy. He professed his love for everyone and everything with the frequency of a man possessed.

note: If you are wondering if you can be hungover from drugs that you did while traveling through the past, the answer is "yes," as Peter will attest to. The human physiology maintains intact when traveling through time — if you die in the past you still die.

For some reason Peter misspelled "East Village 1980's" and we were taken on a seemingly endless time tunnel that dropped us off in front of these two love birds somewhere in the Cretacious period. Pictured here: Peter sorting out the problem with the Home Depot tech support guy.

Our final stop was Seattle in the heyday of grunge rock. It was pretty agro and depressing, but we got to crowd surf. Time for us to head back to the future! Thanks, young bohemians of all eras! Don't sell out!

Adam is in a stranger's Car. Peter is Sleeping.

2006-04-03T01:11:00.000-04:00

Me and Peter are running out of steam here. We have a lot on the plate, and are also kind of sad. So we didn't go anywhere this weekend, but something really strange happened to me and I thought I would share it. Enjoy!

I was smoking a cigarette outside of my building tonight. It does not bother me, as I have never really smoked indoors.
A car pulls up, and a man with a long beard and one of those black hats that are worn by the staff at B and H. He asks me to come over to his car. Recognizing the possible maladies in the situation, I immediately turn away.
“Exkuse me… My English is not very good.”
I walk over to the car. He is portly, probably five foot six and one hundred and seventy pounds.
“I am from Tel Aviv, and I am in New York for a wedding, and I am looking for a cheap hotel. Do you know of anything around here where I can go?”
I open my mouth to inform him of the presence of a Hostel down the street.
“It is kind of expensive there… look.”
Here it comes, I think, the hook.
“I am looking to have a good time in New York this evening, I need somebody to show me around. I vant to ci uptown and downtown… I will pay you”
Not fully aware of the meanings of his words, I tell him that I have no business getting into a car with a stranger, and that for all I know he could be a fucking maniac who wanted to kill me. I begin to walk away.
“No, No! I am not crazy,” he says pleadingly, “I am Jewish. See zis beard?”
I tell him that as far as I am concerned, a Jew can be just as crazy as a member of any other creed. He agrees with me, but continues pleading, proving his holiness by pulling a copy of the Torah out of his glove box.
“I am religious.”
I tell him that I am privy to think that religious people can also be maniacs. Seeing sadness in his eyes, and the possibility of some strange adventure on the horizon, I ask him to pop the trunk. I inspect the contents for anything that could be used for a shady purpose. There is nothing in his trunk save for a two litre bottle of Vanilla Coke and a tire jack. His glove box holds no guns. I ask him where his luggage is and he responds with some kind of long-winded cock and bull about his uncle’s place in Williamsburg.
“It is at mein uncles, where I am staying”
Well then, you portly little cocksucker, why am I to show you around when your uncle could do it? What do you need a hotel for if you can stay at his place?
He smiles, seeing that I have somehow foiled him, and I am inclined to follow this tale as far as it will go, so I get into his car.
“Please don’t smoke, it is my uncles car, he is lending it to me.”
I tell him that I want to go get my wallet, and that I was going to grab a friend to come along for the ride uptown and downtown as he desires. He wants me to come alone. Sure, I tell him, I’ll come. But you have to tell me if you are gay.
“I don’t know what I am. Vut is zis… gay?”
Homosexual.
“NOO!” He erupts, astounded at the suggestion.
We begin driving along 20th street away from my residence at 8th avenue. I ask him his story and he tells me about living with his parents in Tel Aviv. His father, he says, “owns unt toy store.” Ah, I see. He has worked there for years and years, and saved up quite a chunk of change in order to attend his friend’s wedding in Williamsburg. This, he tells me, is his last night in New York, and by god he wanted to experience the pleasures that so sadly elude him back in Israel.
“Vat would I tell mein friends? that I am in New York but I never had a good time?”
No, my friend, we will find you a good time. I am feeling pretty jovial at this point. My nerves are jumping up and down from the reality of the situation. I had betrayed the first rule of kid-conduct. You don’t get into cars with strangers. I suppose this is what happens when you do. A little anxiety washed over me, but I was soothed by the notion that if it came to it: I could probably throw down on him. We turn right up 10th ave.
“I am from very very very religious family…”
“I never do anything back in Israel, because it is forbidden.”
I ask him what he means. Sex. Drugs. He wants to live it up, man, here on his last night in New York City, before going back to Israel and the oppressive confines of his Father’s toy store.
As we pass a series of streets in the mid 60’s I ask him if he wants to get a hooker.
“Vat is zis….”
It is a person that you can pay for sex.
“Is zis vut you do? Ven you need to have sex, do you get these people?”
I tell him that I have never paid for sex before, but assure him that it is very common. He shows interest in my sex life, and I tell him that I have a girlfriend. He has no idea where Vancouver is, and he asks me how long it would take to drive there in a car. He expresses interest in seeing Times Square. We turn right on 75th and then left onto Broadway. Most of my attempts at normal conversation (and I mean normal in the sense of not referring to masturbation or sexual acts) are thwarted by his curious zeal for the dirty bits. One could have mistaken him for a bit of a pervert, had they not known he was an Orthodox Jew who worked at a toy store in Tel Aviv. He tells me he is not allowed to get massages from women — it is forbidden in his particular strain of orthodoxy. I tell him if he wants to do something we should go find him a hooker and a hotel room. I was feeling entrepreneurial, as if he were my client, and I responsible for his good time. I told him we could find a good hooker for him. I am intrigued and interested, as I have never trolled for hookers before. It seems a perfectly hilarious idea. I ask him what kind of woman he fancies. He tells me that she should be young, and not fat. He is apprehensive. He tells me that he is a virgin, and he has no idea what to do.
“I am not sure.”
I assure him that it will be okay, and tell him to drive me back to where I live so that I can get my cell-phone and find a cheap fuck on craigslist. He obliges, but then brings up the idea of a massage. I tell him that he could probably find a massage with a hand job attached to it, if that was what he wanted, but we would have to go back to my place first to do some research. The idea troubles him.
“Vut is zis… Handjob?”
I give him the obvious answer.
“Vut is zis… masturbation.”
I explain to him the physical act. He becomes excited and asks if that is wrong. Fully buying his lost foreigner act, I have to explain the meanings of a variety of terms commonly thrown around in the English language. He asks me if masturbation is wrong, and if I think people do it. I assure him that it is okay, and that he needn’t be ashamed of something that he cannot help. He agrees with me, and seems genuinely aloof upon the realization that he is not, after all, such a terrible human being. He begins a sentence with “Mein Uncl” when I ask him if he speaks German. He tells me that he does not, and it seems to me as if I can hear German in his English. He tells me that German and Hebew are similar languages. It occurs to me that he may not be from Tel Aviv, and that he may be doing a poor job of impersonating a Hebrew accent in order to delude a 23 year old man who he picked up on a street corner in Chelsea.
When we get back to my house, after about 50 blocks and a trip through Times Square, I tell him that I will go upstairs to get some phone numbers from my computer. Unsurprisingly, he manages to back out of the hooker thing and ask me for a massage in the same sentence. I tell him it is out of the question.
Now there is only the matter of the money. I ask him for 40 dollars. He gives me twenty.

Adam and Peter are in Puerto Rico.

2006-03-25T23:52:00.000-05:00

Long considered the sixth (or some say seventh) borough of New York City, Puerto Rico is a Caribean Island off of the East Coast of the Dominican Republic. With our midterm duties taken care of, Peter and I headed south for a week to relax, recuperate, and put together an awesome post! Highlights of our trip included jungle peaks, a Journey cover-band, and some good old fashion beach combing!

Puerto Rico is a land of striking contrasts: one of which evidently lies between rock and water. Peter and I pose on a hike near Guanica, in what is known as one of the best examples of sub-tropical dry forest in the world.

The tallest peak on the island is situated in the Northeast. El Yunque, as it is called, is accesible only by an hour long hike or a highway. Yes, a highway.

The mountainous regions of Central Puerto Rico boast a variety of flaura and fauna. This picture was taken of Peter fulfilling his curiosity at the side of the road.

In the sub-tropical dry-forrest one can find the only examples of cacti on the island. Peter thinks that this particular specimen could have been used as a prop in Caligula.

On the end of a skeletal cement dock near Esparanza one can find turqoise water, blaring sun, and total relaxation. Pictured here, I go for a leap into the sea while Peter enjoys some of the ultraviolet light that contributed to his now peeling shoulders.

Latin American people are known as passionate and giving lovers.

Isla Verde is a common destination for holidaying Americans and NuyoRicans alike. Peter and I enjoyed some time on the beach in front of a popular resort.

San Juan, the capital of Puerto Rico, is the oldest city in the Americas. Settled in 1521, a mere 30 years after Columbus discovered the new world, much of its charm remains intact. On the right time, at the right place in San Juan, one can feel completely absolved of the stresses and strain of the modern world. Especially when cool old ships like this one go by.

Sadly, not all of Puerto Rico lives up to its slogan: "You are not dreaming; you are in Puerto Rico." Much of the island consists of strip malls and fast food outlets, a strong reflection of its ties to America. Here is Peter, peacing in Ponce.

What some consider barbaric, cruel, and morally reprehensible is considered tradition in Puerto Rico. Peter and I had intended on bringing you an entire blog from the cockfights, but sadly, they were closed that day.

A blaze on the side of the road near Rincon.

Evolution: perhaps the finest Journey cover band in the world. The opening rendition of "Don't Stop Believing" had our hearts on fire.

See you Puerto Rico! Thanks for the tans and memories!

Adam and Peter are at the American Museum of Natural History.

2006-03-04T16:24:00.000-05:00

Greetings all! The combination of an icy chill, and the fact that Peter and I are currently in the post-production phase of an awesome new video project forced us to compartmentalize our Saturday experience. Instead of wandering around in the cold of the boroughs, we decided to brush up on our scientific knowledge with the assistance of some incredible dioramas at the American Museum of Natural History. The amount of work that has gone into the place is breathtaking, as is the astounding plethora of animals and knowledge within it's walls. Highlights of our day included a tiger, the asian peoples' wing, and the bones of pre-historic dinosaurs! GRRRRR!!!!

Amongst our favorite movies of the past year is "the Squid and the Whale." Directed by Noah Baumbach, the final shot of the film is set right where we are standing. The whale comes to represent "home" for the protagonist in the film (a child struggling with the divorce of his parents). To Peter and I, this Whale represents hugeness.

The AMNH is dedicated to a scientific understanding of the history of the planet. It is, therefor, a secular institution. Secular commedian Bill Hicks puts forth a one-word question to those that espouse creationism (that is the belief that the world is the creation of a divine being); that question is — dinosaur. If god created the earth and its inhabitants, and dinosaurs exist on the earth, why are there no dinosaurs mentioned in the bible?

La Luna is Spanish for 'the moon.' Here is Peter, hugging the moon.

It can be a little depressing to view all of the beautiful but extinct creatures within the museum. It is refreshing to see that the most sleek, powerful, and gorgeous of all of God's (or evolution's) creations is still with us. Way to go, Tiger.

This picture is a good example of the "double-audience" definition of irony. As articulated by HK Fowler, "Irony is a form of utterance that postulates a double audience, consisting of one party that hearing shall hear and shall not understand, and another party that, when more is meant than meets the ear, is aware, both of that "more" and of the outsider's incomprehension." Where someone may not read the caption, or bother to review the photograph upon reading it, another may notice that Peter is pointing at the Asian Peoples' exhibit and say "hey, that's funny because he is Asian." A third audience, however, will notice the irony but disregard it because it is just not very funny.

This was a very intersting looking man: a tribesman from Northern Siberia. I thought I was cold today!!! When you think about it long and hard — even with global warming and pollution and overpopulation and nuclear weapons — we are way better off now than we used to be.

The Semain people were the Tribal inhabitants of Southeast Asia. Peter, pictured here, is a direct descendent. His water is from Fiji.

On Saturdays the museum is extremely busy. It is most popular among parents of young children who live in the New York Area, and tourists who largely come for the dinosaurs.

Hindsight is 20-20, but if I were one of the guys on the right I would be throwing that axe at the guy with the gun.

Did you know that there are nearly 200 species of monkeys? Peter thinks there should be a 201'st category.

See you later AMNH! We had a great time!

Adam and Peter are at MisShapes.

2006-02-26T20:58:00.000-05:00

Every saturday, the young fashionable (hip) masses of New York and its surrounding area descend upon Don Hill's for MisShapes. MisShapes is a party organized by a group of three people who also, consequently, call themselves MisShapes. Though these people are largely ridiculed by the local media, they do succeed in drawing a massive and hedonistic crowd. Hipsters, as they are called, proved excellent subject matter for the photography of Peter Le, as they were more than willing to pose for our cameras. Scroll down for picks and thoughts.

Peter and I decided to wax the same look, and strike a pose that looks less like Adam and Peter, and more like the Strokes. This, we are told, is how it is done at these kinds of functions.

Whence observing the subcultural constituents, a clear paradox emerges. As Bill Wasik notes in the latest issue of Harpers: "The Hipsters make no pretense to divisions on principle, to forming intellectual and artistic camps; at any given moment it is the same books, clothes, records and films that are judged au courant by all, leading to the curious spectacle of an 'alternative culture' more unanimous than the mainstream that it ostensibly opposes." Regardless of adult judgements, Peter and I think these guys look pretty cool.

How are we to interpret this guy? He walked up to Peter and began writing something down in a journal, muttering in a style similar to Jonny Depp's portrayal of Hunter S Thompson. We are not sure what the purpose of this journal was, or just how this man wanted to be percieved, but his eye makeup made him look pretty sketchy.

Part of the aesthetic of current hipster culture is based upon the styles and attitudes of New York in the early 80's. Here is Peter and what might be the lead singer from the Cure.

I am not sure what constitutes 'capacity'at Don Hill's, but I am sure it was exceeded on Saturday.

Drugs and alcohol are inevitable components of every good subculture. In following the 80's aesthetic, cocaine seems to be quite popular. This girl looks like she could use some.

It is amazing how reality can be transformed by the presence of a camera. Peter found that due to the proliferation of party-photo websites (such as lastnightsparty and the cobrasnake) people were very receptive to having their picture taken. Critics call this phenomenon the innate desire for 'micro-celebrity.'

Submerged in the crowd, anonymous: Peter is having a great time.

Thank you kind people! We hope to see you again soon! Keep smiling!

Adam and Peter are in Chinatown.

2006-02-25T17:19:00.000-05:00

Yes, we know: Chinatown hardly compares to the other exotic NYC locales explored on our site. Suffice it to say, Peter and I were less than motivated on this sleepy Saturday. This is not our REAL post for the weekend: it is merely a teaser. We went to take some pictures in Chinatown only to whet the appetites of our avid readers for what promises to be amongst the best posts ever. Tonight, Adam and Peter are going to MisShapes. Until tomorow, enjoy the Chinatown pics, as we enjoyed Chinatown!

New York's oldest Chinatown (there are 3 in total) is centered around Canal street. It is the largest Chinatown in North America, and home to many interesting back-alleys such as this one (underneath the Manhattan Bridge).

People often visit Chinatown for the shopping. One can buy almost anything in Chinatown, including knock off designer bags, and weird little emporer dudes like this guy.

Chinese cuisine is practically its own food group in New York City. Peter likes General Tso's Chicken, whereas I am more of a Lo Mein man. As one would suspect, there are many Chinese restaurants in Chinatown.

Asian immigrants often find themselves with poor job prospects upon their arrival in North America. Here is Peter eyeing up what looks to be a pretty good deal.

Apparently, Chinese kids like to play just as much as kids from the other major ethnic group. This didn't surprise Peter. Here I am posing in a darling little playground near The Five Points (see Gangs of New York).

In his famous work "The Metropolis and Mental Life" sociologist Georg Simmel suggests that upon migration to the city, people become more and more used to an overstimulation of the senses, and adopt a greater passivity to said stimuli. This urban phenomenon manifests itself in the personality through the adoption of a blaze attitude.

Bye Bye Chinatown... Peter and I must prepare for our night out...

Adam and Peter are on Coney Island.

2006-02-18T18:27:00.000-05:00

Peter and Adam, up to their usual tricks, decided to head out to Coney on what proved to be a clear and cold day. To anyone who has never been: Coney Island is unlike any other place on God's green earth. The area was once a popular tourist draw, complete with amusement park rides and a beautiful beach. Following World War Two, Coney's popularity tapered off leaving the eery Carnival topography behind. Whats more? The Russians moved in! Today's activities included parcour on the beach, famous hot dogs, and a sojourn into the Russophonic neighborhood of Brighton Beach.

And... Action! Peter leaps over my head.

The Celsius scale is the most widely used temperature measurement in the world. It has been adopted by nearly every country save for the United States and Jamaica. Peter and I are Canadian, and today it was approximately -5 degrees celsius. For you Jamaicans and Americans, that means roughly 20 degrees.

If you stick to an exclusivist definition of "island" it will be hard to make a case for Coney's islandness. God had intended that Coney would be an island, but man had other plans and filled in the canal that separated Coney from Brooklyn prior to World War Two. Now it is a peninsula. Sort of.

Parcour is a new extreme sport that is sweeping across Europe. It involves no gadgets, contraptions or anything that needs to be purchased. Except for shoes — which most people have anyways.

If you are prone to reading this blog, you have undoubtedly noticed Peter's propensity to point at things. This time, I got in on the act.

I am not sure if climbing up a pole and spreading your arms is an act of parcour, but Peter did it anyways.

Brighton Beach is a neighborhood Northeast of Coney known primarily for its Russian flavor.

The neighborhood has a very strong Russian Jewish presence. It is said that Russian jews are more like Russians than they are like other Jews (as a result of the shared experience of communism).

Parents usually tell their children that they can do anything if they put their mind to it. The only word I can read on this door is "caution." There are a lot of other things, but they are mainly written in Russian. I can't read Russian, and will probably never learn how to because my mind is otherwise preoccupied.

This man is making one of the most important decisions of his life. Will she say yes? We can only speculate.

Brighton drive, the main commercial hub of the community, is parked underneath the D and Q lines of the MTA subway service. Light is sparse, as is evident in this picture of Peter happily poking around.

In the 1970's and 80's, crime was a major problem in the Brighton Beach area. Russian immigrants with nowhere else to go proved very adept at crime fighting, as peace and justice was restored through civilian strength.

When most people think of Russian fashion, something like this guy comes to mind. Fur coats and those hat things are numerous on Brighton ave.

Coney Island is home to what can only be described as the world cup of hot dog eating. This massive sign charmingly counts down the days to the next contest (on July 4th).

Nathan's: the sponsor of the great event, boasts of having some of the best hot dogs in the world. A mutual friend of Peter and I (named Matt) claimed that Nathan's made the best burger in New York City.

Japanese people make the best hot-dog eaters, as is evident from the outcomes of Nathan's contest over the past seven years. Since 1997, all but one winner of the annual eating contest has been Japanese. Scientists have offered no explanation of the correlation between hot dog consumption and Ethnicity.

Thanks to the lovely people off of the Last Exit to Brooklyn, Peter and I had a marvelous day. Gotta run! See you in the summer!

Adam and Peter are in the Bronx

2006-02-11T19:47:00.000-05:00

A cold, cold Saturday in New York City saw Peter and I heading North of Manhattan to the lesser known borough of the Bronx. Though we had intended on seeing the entirety of the area, we quickly became enraptured with the lovely little (and Big) furballs that dwell in the Bronx Zoo. What was supposed to be a breezy walk through the Zoo became a four hour animal extravaganza! Highlights of the day included some big brown bears, a real life tiger (!!!), and a good bowl of pea soup.

With approximately 15,000 residential units, The Bronx's "co-op city" is one of the largest public housing projects in the USA.

The Bronx Zoo first opened its doors in 1899, with a simple mission statement: to advance the study of zoology, protect wildlife, and educate the public. Peter thinks that they are doing a pretty good job.

Our first brush with real wildlife in The Bronx: Peter can barely contain his excitement about this beautiful specimen.

We were not quite sure what kind of animal this was. We were, however, certain of one thing: it was the cutest little thing we had ever seen. I could barely hold back the urge to jump in his cage and cuddle the crap out of him. Peter thought it looked Chinese. Perhaps.

Jungle World, a building within the zoo, effectively simulates the feeling of being amongst the animals in their natural surroundings. You would never know by the look of this picture that it was snowing.

This is a picture taken of a picture on Tiger Mountain. The majesty and power of these beautiful animals defies any description. There is simply nothing like seeing a tiger.

This is Taurus, presumably named after his astrological sign. Taurus' people (or tigers) need our help: tigers everywhere are becoming increasingly endangered as a result of poaching and natural resource development. One look at Taurus in the flesh, and this may very well become your primary policy concern.

These little grey monkeys liked to jump around a fight.

The Grizzly Bear needs no introduction. Massive, powerful, agile, and with blinding speed. We were not sure who would win in a fight between the Grizzly and the Tiger, but we thought it would be an epic battle on par with Alien vs. Predator.

This is a Malayan Tapir. Despite their ungainly looks, Tapirs can gallop through the jungle, scramble up steep sloaps, and swim in fast flowing rivers.

Peter walked into Monkey World in search of a wise looking primate. This is what he found.

The second cutest animal we saw: the Tree Kangaroo.

This is a black panther. He wouldn't stay still long enough for me to truly capture his essence in the Nikon Coolpix my mother got me for Christmas.

After the Zoo, the weary wildlife watchers walked to the local diner. Here is Peter enjoying a warn bowl of pea soup: happy to be out of the snow.

Who would have known that such a cold day would provide us with such warm memories. Thanks, Bronx! We promise to come again and check out the rest of you!

Adam and Peter are in Midtown.

2006-02-04T16:21:00.000-05:00

The rain is coming down softly, the lights are getting more noticeable, and the people of New York are enjoying a well-deserved moment of rest. It is Saturday, and Peter and I have just returned from another of our weekly adventures: this time, in Midtown. Midtown Manhattan is the busiest single commercial district in North America. Skyscrapers loom large over the relatively small area that boasts a work force of 3 million commuters. Overall, we had a great time perusing the streets, taking in times square and walking amongst the beautiful fashionistas of the garment district.

Madison Square Garden: home of the Rangers, Liberty and the Knicks. Many great champions have been made and destroyed within the walls behind Peter and I.

"The Most Famous Arena in the World" also plays host to a variety of popular musical acts. The Garden was the site of John Lennon's final public concert before his untimely death at the hands of Mark David Chapman. Here, Peter 'imagines' what it would have been like to see John.

Manuel is the last line of defence when it comes to illegal parking. He happily posed for this photograph with Peter before returning to his duties.

Pretzel vendors are common in New York City. Delicious and salty, pretzels are the perfect snack for photo-journalists.

The Fashion District is a design, warehouse, and distribution nexus of the clothing and fabric industry for the East Coast of the United States.

This is Oscar De La Renta, the famous designer. Here, I try to channel some of his genius.

Fashion can suggest or signify social status, or membership in a specific sub-culture. Here Peter is looking rather unfashionable, unable to gain entry to the shows.

Times Square is wrought with advertisement.

This is the Fed-ex street team. They take your picture, and give you instructions as to where to find the picture online. Thanks for the compliments on our outfits!

Skyscrapers: they steal light from our faces, but give light to our hearts (in the form of inspiration).

Deliciously close to the MTV store, the Armed Forces Building is one of the primary sites of recruitment for the military.

These Jamaican fellows used Times Square as a platform to promote their causes. Peter helps them out for a picture.

Almost every square inch of Times Square is full of lights and screens that constantly bombard passersby with promotional material. Here is Peter's favorite sign.

Peter watches TV inside the MTV store with some excited tourists.

See Ya Midtown!

Adam and Peter are in Harlem.

2006-01-28T19:48:00.000-05:00

On January 28th, 2006 the sun shone brilliantly and the streets warmed up as New Yorkers enjoyed one of the best weather days of recent memory. Peter and I chose to take control of the day, and after a late rise, made out for Harlem armed with a camera, a couple of hangovers and intrigue. Highlights of the region included a soulful meal, a theatre steeped in history, and the largest church in New York City! Keep reading for pics, facts, and stories.

Overlooking Harlem from morningside park. A neighborhood full of culture and vitality.

As an area with a long history of marginalization and economic deprivation, Harlem has long been associated with crime. This poor little sailor stands as a testament to the high rates of homicide.

Peter feeds the ducks in the Northeast corner of Central Park. A wonderful break from the hustle-bustle of urban living.

Future globetrotters?

Harlem is a central node of African American culture. This is Peter pointing at a statue of Duke Ellington, the Jazz great.

Famous not only for its immense scale, but also as a center for the promotion of causes related to social justice, Riverside church is an architectural marvel.

Saying a prayer.

After church, we ate hot dogs on the steps. Delicious!

Many of Harlem's major streets are named after famous African Americans. Here I am, standing on Malcolm X boulevard.

Graffiti (or street art) has long been a part of African American Culture. This "peice" endorses an upcoming performance.

This kitty rummages through discarded trash in an empty lot.

Columbia University: one of the most prestigious Universities in the United States of America.
Here are the leaders of tomorow.

Wednesday is amateur night at this famous theatre: where live popular music has filled the room for over 70 years. The Apollo served as a launching point for the careers of artists like Ella Fitzgerald, James Brown, Lauren Hill: even Michael Jackson!

What a car!

Store fronts on Martin Luther King Blvd.

As the day comes to a close, the hungry wanderers stop by this lovely little restaurant for some soul food.

Mmmmmmm....

Thanks for the great time Harlem! See you again Soon!

Adam and Peter are in Chelsea.

2006-01-28T19:26:00.000-05:00

Chelsea is a neighborhood on the West side of lower Manhattan. It also happens to be the place where Peter and I happily hang our hats. It is a pleasure to live among a plethora of good shops, restaurants, and art galleries.

New York is a very musical place. Here in Chelsea, Peter poses next to an aspiring rock and roller.

We were happy to help out this local resident with train fare in exchange for a quick photo.

Here is Peter, walking towards the 1 train in near our home in Chelsea. Chelsea is an extremely diverse and tolerant neighborhood, brimming with life and activity.

At home, ready to go out and discover the many faces of New York City.