Scene and heard

There is a company selling on eBay, interestingly calling itself Global Bargain Hunters. They attempt to sell rings at prices in excess of $70,000. Not all are bid on, but at the time of writing, someone has bid $108,294 for a 7 ½ carat diamond, platinum ring. To all women who read this blog: what would your impression be of a man who spent over $100k on a ring for you, bought sight unseen over the Internet? Dude! Take her to Paris or Rome and buy her a ring there!

But this is, for me, the clincher to the stupidity. The ring will be sent 2nd day UPS for $19.95. There are one-day and Saturday delivery options, but no Insurance option!! Excuse me? If I were spending that kind of money, which I wouldn’t, (couldn’t! I don’t have it!) so this is hypothetical at best, I would want fucking courier delivery!! At the expense of the jeweller!!!

I just saw a commercial for the Time Life ‘Classic Soft Rock’ collection. 11 CD’s of stuff that I at least find uninspiring. Which is beside the point! The first 500 people (so everyone) get free shipping. Order with a credit card and pay only $9.95 for a 30-day trial.

This is where it gets good! “If you don’t agree that this is the best soft rock collection you’ve ever heard, send it back to us and have nothing more to pay. And you get to keep the free bonus CD”. Ahem! $9.95 is not free.

FYI: The collection will certainly not be free to send back – even in Time Life speak!

About 3 years ago, just a few months after my son started driving, he was involved in an accident. He admits to having a lapse of concentration, and missed a stop sign at a t-junction near Montclair, NJ. Unfortunately, a car was passing the junction, and he hit it.

The man, who Sean estimates to be somewhere between his late 50s and early 60s, wasn’t happy, but appeared to be fine. However, some time after the incident, both he and his wife sued both Sean and his mother. That’s four separate lawsuits. The husband is suing Sean for reckless driving and my ex simply because she is the owner of the vehicle.

With the smell of money beckoning and teasing her olfactory system beyond possible resistance, his wife is willing to stand up in court and state that the accident has caused her husband to become impotent, which in turn has caused her distress. She is suing Sean for that distress and again, Adrian for owning the car which caused her the distress.

One can only hope that the Insurance Attorney will have the judge laugh at least the wife’s motions out of court – ideally with a frivolous lawsuit charge against her. The husband’s charge probably depends on whatever is in the Police report.

Depositions, which were due on Thursday, have now been postponed. Will this ever go to court? Will the Government ever do anything to discourage bullshit lawsuits? Even if every stupid charge is dropped, insurance companies still have to pay Attorneys wages. Who pays in the end! Everyone!!

I watch quite a few Mets games on TV. A couple of days ago, when it was announced that the Mets had set a new record for the number of consecutive games in which they had scored 5 runs or more, Sean made a comment about how there seems to be a record set every day, and we proceeded to come up with some of our own. I remember none of them! But the following are an exaggeration of our conversation:

Most strikeouts by a Lefty pitcher in an afternoon game on the third Thursday of a month.
Most steals by a team when there is a full moon
Most RBI by a National League team in a month not ending in BER
Most hits in a rain delayed game by a player whose mother is named Audrey
Most records set in a game
Most consecutive games without a record being set

I was struck when I first came to New York in 1980, how it seems that just about every Deli Restaurant in New York proclaimed something on its menu to be “Our World Famous ….” In each instance, I can state with confidence and sincerity that I had never heard of them when I lived in London. I am not sure if this is still as common a practice, as I no longer frequent these establishments for dietary reasons.

Within the last few months, a new Barbecue Restaurant, Joey’s, opened in Hoboken, a short distance from where Susan lives. Upon opening, at least one item on the menu proclaimed itself to be famous. So I believe I have determined the meaning of these phrases, at least with regard to the New York Metropolitan area:

Famous means the chef and his relatives and friends like it .
World Famous means that one of those relatives lives in Brooklyn.

Remember, there is a precedent for this grandeur. The USA (29 teams) and Canada (1 team) are the only two countries which can send a team to the Baseball World Series.

Another favourite example of mine is that competitions here always have Grand Prizes. The ‘First Prize’ is really the second prize.

And of course, even if there is no fanfare, all new stores have a Grand Opening.

Some months ago, I ate a curry lunch without considering the consequences. I was going to the gym that evening to take a class. While there, the folly of my lunch – Chicken Methi, Aloo Matar and Dal over pilau rice – dawned on me. I spent minutes at a time clenching buttocks and diaphragm in my effort to avoid embarrassment. The effect was that my work out was more effective than usual, as I felt the next day.

Today, I decided to try my workout again. Rajma (Red Kidney Beans) Masala and Aloo Matar for lunch and then a strenuous work-out in the evening. And yes, a little more clenching than usual. The effects, if any, remain to be seen. Perhaps this workout needs dal? I had certainly never previously realised that lentils produced more turbulence than kidney beans. You live and learn!

My Health Care provider is United Health Care – UHC, for short. I have previously had no problems with them. But this year, I suffered a partially torn rotator cuff and went to an Orthopaedic Specialist. He sent me for x-rays and an MRI, the latter of which revealed the injury. He also recommended me for Physical Therapy.

UHC were billed $3,620 for the therapy and paid $1,171.04. I paid $20 for each of my 16 visits. For the tests, $3,050 was billed and $1,682.28 paid. These are group rates and I owed nothing. The Specialist billed a lot for the consultation and follow up: $500 and $150 respectively. The Insurance didn’t pay a penny, claiming that the doctor supplied insufficient documentation for the level of care provided.

I found out today that they have a new rule that Orthopaedic Specialists must provide a full Orthopaedic report to the Insurance Company in order to get paid. But they had no problem paying $2,853.32 for Diagnostics and Therapy for an injury that the Specialist supposedly insufficiently proved.

Can anyone else see the unparalleled stupidity of this? I can imagine a bunch of officious, pen-pushing prigs with no more medical knowledge than you or I, trying to come up with yet more inventive and annoying ways to ‘show the doctors who is really in charge’. I would far rather give money to a Doctor than to these parasites. I fart in their general direction!

A further example of their stupidity: I was diagnosed about a year ago with borderline high cholesterol. I have had hypo-thyroidism for some years now. Each of these need blood tests, but the former more frequently than the latter. In February, I had the cholesterol test and accompanying Liver function test (cholesterol medication can cause kidney problems). Lenco Diagnostics charged $1,300 for these and UHC paid them $650. In July, I had these plus the Thyroid test. Labcorp charged $255. UHC paid only $41.27. 15 times more money for 2/3 of the tests? Apparently makes sense to someone!!

Life and dealing with Government Agencies has taught me not to expect logic where I used to hope to find it. But this is a step too far into the Twilight Zone. Surely, if you had told an American doctor in the 1960’s what they would have to deal with now, that is what they would have thought was being described. When is the Government going to step in and make some sense of this nonsense!!!

Last Thursday afternoon, I was walking up lower Broadway. With the ever shifting, never ending road works, the section just above 140 Broadway is now down to 2 lanes. An ambulance was blaring it horn and siren, beckoning vehicles in its way to clear a path. As the light turned red, only a small bus and a delivery van were in front of it. The bus moved to the right; the van, ignoring decency, slowed to a halt alongside the bus. I yelled at the driver “What is wrong with you!!” He half heartedly mouthed an insult before driving through the red light.

I was yet again reminded of a story I believe I related on this blog about a year ago:

In 1980, a man who thought that holding up emergency vehicles was fun, impeded the passage of an ambulance. His mother had had a heart attack and this vehicle was trying to get to her and hopefully save her life. But the woman paid the supreme penalty for giving birth to an asshole son. I hope he has never had a good night sleep since. And every time I see someone doing what the van driver did last Thursday, I wish that if anyone’s mother has to die as a result of their selfishness, thoughtlessness, ignorance and/or cruelty, that it is theirs.

My daughter Hannah told me that I can get my phone usage info ‘free’ through Verizon Mobile Web. I tried it. First time, I got a little scared when I didn’t know what to do at the page I was taken to, so I rang off. I tried again 4 days later, but this time, my call wasn’t completed. When I saw my online bill a couple of weeks later, I had well over 100 1 minute calls to a 700 number on the first day, and well over 200 on the second. Many of these were 2 in the same minute. It turns out, this number is the Data number for Verizon. I have plenty of minutes on my plan, so it didn’t put me over. But I wanted to know how to stop this from happening again if I ever try the Internet function again.

The Customer Service system asks if you prefer to key in number or speak. No brainer. I don’t know if Americans have problems with these things, but they seem to have a hard time with accents and I end up swearing at them (“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that last response” repeat menu items… “I bet you fucking didn’t” “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that response” “Operator” “I’m sorry….” “Help!” “I’m sorry….” “Aaarrrgghhhh!” "I'm sorry....")

The option I needed was repeated on 3 different menus (“for a, press 1; for b, 2, for e, f, g, h, i 3….” “For a, press 1, b 2, c 3, d 4, e, f, g, h, j 5…” "For e, press 1...." Then finally to customer service.)

I explained what had happened and that it didn’t cost me anything, but I want to make sure this doesn’t happen again:

“Well I can see you weren’t charged”
“I know, but how do I end these calls?”
“Do you use chat rooms?”
“No. I told you I called twice and didn’t get through. How do I cancel the session?”
“Well, you don’t end it. The calls end when the session ends”
“What? Are you telling me I have no control of when my session ends? I ring off and it finishes whenever?”
“Yes”
“That can’t be right.”
“Let me ask someone”
5 minutes pass.
“Each session is 5 minutes”
“What sessions? I had well over 200 calls in 2 hours and 20 minutes. No 5 minute sessions. What are all these calls, anyway?
“Each time a message is sent, you get charged a minute”
“Message? What message! I didn’t get through! I have to be able to end this myself.”
More questions and I repeated my whole story twice more while he repeated about the 5 minute sessions and I got more frustrated.
“Do you play games?”
This, after over 20 minutes.
“Do you have a problem with listening or are you just unable to comprehend? Let me talk to someone who knows how to listen and who can help me.”

The second person solved everything within minutes, guiding me through the correct process and determining what had caused the incomplete call in the first place. I thanked her profusely:
“You helped me infinitely more than your colleague in a fraction of the time! That guy needs some training!”
“I’m sorry and thank you!”
“Thank you!”

So much fun!

This has to be seen to be believed. It was recorded 15 months after the end of his tenure as George Bush Senior’s Foreign Secretary. What a f@#%ing hypocrite!!!!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=6BEsZMvrq-I

Karl Rove’s resignation was made public today. The commentary was variously that he and George Bush have one brain (is that a half each?) and that George Bush has had a brainectomy. OK. If he really is the brain behind the President, and the President doesn’t appear to be too smart, what does this say about Rove himself? And what will be left of the President sans his questionable brain? Will anyone notice the difference?!!

I just got back from the gym and checked my email - 2 eluded my Spam blocker: ‘The shattered, trembling old man fell down on the stairs, imagining that Varenuk….’ and ‘this means that your application will need to display the cursor itself.’

I opened neither, being quite convinced that the fictionally named senders are trying to sell me ED medications. Although they could also contain Trojan viruses. And many of the web sites you will be directed to are designed simply to steal your credit card number.

If everyone automatically binned all unsolicited mail, the flow would ebb. Please! Please! If you have ever bought anything from these people, don’t do it again. You encourage them but they are the Internet equivalent of vermin. The more there is to eat, the faster they breed.

While I was in the CVS near where Susan lives on Thursday evening, Maria Carey’s version of Without You started playing. And my mind wandered to the Death Penalty.

I am conflicted by this issue. It used to seem so easy – before my son was born. It is wrong. There should be no Death Penalty. If only guilty people were put to death, perhaps my objections wouldn’t be as strong? I couldn’t favour the Governor Bush Texan reasoning that most people who are executed are guilty so while it is a shame if the odd innocent person is murdered by the State, that is a small price to pay. In fact, I would say that while there is a Death Penalty, every asshole who sprouts that garbage should have an innocent relative of theirs killed!. They wouldn’t like that. It’s only supposed to happen to other people. The grandparents, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends who lose people in this way aren’t them, so it’s alright. Damn! Those self-righteous, ‘morally upstanding’ hypocrites make me sick!

Where is my conflict? If someone killed one of my kids, I’d want to kill them! Just as if someone raped a loved one, I’d want to personally remove all vestiges of their pathetic manhood. Don’t think I’d want the State doing it for me though, and I suppose I doubt that I would actually do either if I had the chance. But I think wishing for revenge is a natural Human emotion. So I don’t understand the ‘devout’ Christians who ‘forgive’ the man who murdered their daughter. It’s not natural and it certainly isn’t Biblical. They are in denial. Or they are lying. Or they have been brainwashed.

A couple in New Zealand wanted to call their boy 4real, because when they saw him on the ultrasound, they realised that he was for real. There is a law in NZ that names cannot begin with a number. The authorities are also not taking kindly to the second choice name as they have regulations against names that will cause a kid distress as they get older. Now I’m not too hot on some regulations, but I think that parents who want to name a kid Superman are unfit and should possibly have their kid taken from them.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/6937327.stm


Dear Pat and Sheena,

You probably think you appear cool, choosing names like 4real and Superman for your kid. But what you really look like, is a couple of self-obsessed plonkers who would be total nightmare parents. If your brains are capable of thought beyond your own pain and gratification, you might consider the life your son will have if he goes through it with the name of Superman. You had better enrol him in boxing and martial arts classes as soon as he can walk, because at school, kids will always want him to prove that he is worthy of his name. And when he is older, he will be picked on by every brainless drunk and macho moron he comes across.

Of course, by then, if he hasn’t committed suicide, he will probably have changed his name and will hate you for forcing your stupid vanity on him and making his childhood and youth a complete nightmare. But you probably don’t care. You have a point to make, and you will sacrifice the potential happiness of your child in order to make it. Children are a gift of which you are clearly undeserving. You are a disgrace. Give your kid up for adoption. At least the he might stand a chance of happiness.


Sincerely,

Andy Capaloff

I am a big Damien Rice fan, so was happy to see that he will be playing Madison Square Garden early next month. There were no good tickets left when I made my purchase, so I got the $40 tickets. Buying direct from the Garden, the total for 2 tickets still came out at $111.85. How? This is a reproduction of my invoice:

Tickets 80.00
Facility charge 9.00
----------------
Subtotal 89.00
Convenience Chrg 19.70
Order Processing 3.15
----------------
Total Charge 111.85

To dissect:
Facility Charge? Didn’t that used to be a part of the ticket charge?

Convenience Charge? Who’s fucking convenience! It’s a lot more convenient for me to not pay this. If I go to the ticket window, do I still pay this? Is it an online surcharge? It’s not as if they need more people handling tickets with the advent of online ticketing, so how is this charge justified?

Order processing? OK. They sent me the tickets. But the alternative was to pay them an extra $2.50 per ticket if I wanted to print the tickets at home. This makes absolutely no sense. How can it cost them more to send the tickets to me electronically than by mail?

And how long before there’s a security charge? At least they can’t add a fuel surcharge!

For a belated birthday present, my son Sean got tickets for the Mets v Braves game last Tuesday. Very good seats, closer to the field than I have ever sat before – the kind that are reserved for season tickets. Pity that the game was mostly over as a contest by the 3rd inning – in favour of the ‘wrong’ team, but it was a very enjoyable evening for which the game was merely a backdrop.

We actually arrived in the stadium half an hour early. We decided to get sodas from Nathan’s. There were 6 people in front of me in my chosen line, and we sat down 2 minutes before the ceremonial first pitch. I have never seen a young New Yorker move as slowly in my life! It’s a good thing we didn’t want food there. All of the women there wear gloves so as not to communicate their own germs to the food. And all of them handle hot dog buns while wearing these. They also pick up the fries from above, so that the gloves touch several of them. And they handle the money with the same gloved hands. Thus passing on who knows what germs. Not sure if this is actually legal; and if it is legal, why it is. Money is filthy for reasons that you will not need me to point out. This is so unhygienic! Anyway, there might be a couple of places beyond Coney Island and people’s home grills where you can get a decent Nathan’s Hot Dog, but I’ve given up trying to find them.

As we sat, there was a man of about 60, sitting alone. He looked like the loner who could recall baseball minutiae from before he was born, and who could happily talk nothing but baseball for hours, days or weeks on end. We have all met them.

As usual, the announcer called Shea Stadium the home of the best sports fans in the world, and as usual, those fans made a nonsense of the statement. There were boos from the second inning. When Moises Alou, one of the great players of his generation hit into a second successive double play, people booed. Was I happy about that? No! But to boo him? The best fans I have witnessed in the last few years were at Portsmouth FC in England. In the 2003-4 season, their first in the Premiership, they met eventual champions Arsenal at their Fratton Park home, and lost 5-1. The more Arsenal scored, the louder the Potsmouth fans sang – no organist or DJ needed to prompt them. It was magnificent and a joy to witness, and puts most fans, certainly New York Mets fans, to sad, pathetic shame.

During the game, I was happy to note that at field level, there are few self appointed cheer-leaders. These are a particularly annoying breed. They think that if they cheer, everyone else should. So they turn away from the field of play towards the crowd, and motion for everyone else to join them. Obnoxious! But not as obnoxious as the guy a couple of rows behind us. He thought he was hilarious, and his boyfriend agreed, thus encouraging him. Both were clearly the worse for their $6.75 beers, and he continued to make up ridiculous, bitchy slogans to yell at the Braves players in a constant torrent. I could be bitchy myself and say that a guy is always funnier to the person sucking his dick (male or female), but will resist. Or not.

The stadium was mostly empty by the 8th inning, even though the Mets had clawed back 3 of the 6 run deficit and seemed to threaten more. By the end of the game, I doubt more than 20% of the original attendees were still seated. As we hit the exit ramp, one thoughtless prick lit up a cigarette. No matter that there were people crowded all around him. He was closer to 60 than 50, had a twisted ponytail, a slight slouch and a swagger that advertised to the world how cool he (thinks he) is. Pathetic!

And so to the 7 train, and our journey home: Sean and I got seats. A father, similar age to me, was with his son and daughter. The kids got seats. Although the father had a bad leg, he told his son to remain seated. His daughter insisted on standing for her dad, but Sean insistent stronger. So father and daughter sat together; he next to me. He joked: “Works every time!” Great New York humour – a self-effacing mix of irony and chutzpah! You’ve got to love it! The train carriage was loud; a cacophony of voices akin to an office party. Some people were holding drinks, even if no wine glasses or beer bottles were in evidence; and there were conversations between strangers, if not mingling, so the analogy seems appropriate.

Two games I’ve seen this year; two sub-par performances (a kind assessment of their performance against the Yankees) and two defeats. Better luck next time!

This past Thursday morning, a young woman cut across my path as I was at the intersection of Wall Street and Nassau. There was a solid mass of people heading in the opposite direction to me and I was in the only place left for me – at the foot of the stairs to the exhibition centre (at least that’s what I think it is) which forms the ‘T’ at the top of Broad Street. I was heading to my office at 14 Wall, from Mangia, which is at 40 Wall, with my morning coffee. As I reached the end of the steps, this 20 something [expletive excluded] cuts an angle across my path. I had absolutely nowhere to go, so I went nowhere. She just barrelled on, slamming into my left shoulder and into the crowd. A couple of months ago, courtesy of a partially torn rotator cuff in that shoulder, she would have really hurt me. My shoulder is hard now, and it was this lovely young lady (I originally wrote ‘ignorant bitch’, but thought some people might take offense) that got nailed and not me!

Later the same day, when a woman walking alongside me on a rather less crowded street, suddenly decided that she just had to cut directly across me, I managed to stop just in time. These are just a couple of examples, but stuff like this happens more than once just about every day. And it is hardly a new phenomenon.

Back in 1985, when I spent a very few months here between living in New Orleans and going home to London, I gave up trying to avoid people who did that and just kept on walking. I tripped several people. It is tempting to start doing that again. These assholes deserve to pay a little consequence for their selfishness. If a lot of people just said “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore”, and managed to not stop their strides when this happened to them, perhaps it would happen a little less often? It’s a consequence thing. Few people complain when food is served cold or sub-standard, so more eateries serve their food that way. Few people complain about rude or poor service, so it becomes sufficiently normal that we are desensitised to it. And assholes walk wherever the fuck they want to walk, because the nice folk they are cutting across almost always manage to avoid collision.

Until the backlash of the decent folk, however, I would just like to point out to the butt of my ire – you know who you are – a few things:

a) I am not invisible
b) I cannot disappear into thin air just because you want to be where I already am.
c) If you are not neutrinos, you cannot pass through me unnoticed.

I was woken up today shortly before 6am by a wild storm. Through the darkness and my window blinds, it was obvious that there was quite a light show to accompany the sound effects – loud thunder and pounding, heavy rain. The greenery of the plants on the balcony off of my bedroom was bent to a 30 degree angle. 1010WINS radio warned commuters to leave extra time. Actually, having called England this morning, I left home 5 or 10 minutes later than usual, arriving on the platform of 86th Station at about 7:35. Clearly, had I arrived at my usual time, I would have caught the same train as I ended up catching. There was quite a crowd down there!

The train came at about 7:45 and sat at the station for a short while. Even though 86th Street is only the second stop on the line, there were a fair number of standees. A crowd got on at 77th Street as the train sat once more. The conductor announced that there was another train behind. Everyone ignored him. Next stop: Bay Ridge Avenue, where my commute used to begin until my move 3 months ago. The carriage I was in became quite Sardine-like and the conductor repeated loudly about the train behind. I decided to get off. I was the only one. And it won’t happen again unless I’m feeling unwell.

I checked the time a few minutes later. It was 8:01. There was no sign of a train and I realised that there was no train at 95th Street and I didn’t recall seeing one heading that direction. The conductor lied! At 8:25, a man who was not employed by the MTA, came onto the platform and yelled that there would be no trains. And we shouldn’t bother walking to 59th Street, 10 blocks away, as the N express wasn’t running either. “The only train running into Manhattan is the F”. I got my transfer and stood with a lot of people waiting for a bus. Bay Ridge Avenue itself was closed between 4th and 3rd Aves, the block the express bus comes on, and people didn’t know if it was re-routed or just not running. It was closed because a large tree was laying across it. Could that be one of the streets where roofs were blown off? So I got a local to an area I haven’t been to in years – McDonald Avenue.

The bus went along 60th Street from 4th Avenue to some way beyond 25th Ave. On the third block, a small tree had been uprooted and branches of other trees were all over the place.

And so to the F train. Well, the wait for the F train. We were warned it was running slowly. This turned out to be a euphemism. I was on the platform for quite a while. People complained at having been there for 35 minutes. A couple of people were getting upset with the guy tidying the platform!! Ridiculous! It was his fault? When the cleaner said the storm had been very bad, one man said he was awake, and it wasn’t that bad. So I informed him of the tree damage I saw en route, and he stopped speaking.

By the time I squeezed onto the third train, I had been there for over half an hour. A young man walked past me shortly before, wearing 10 times as much after shave as any one person should wear. I silently wished he wouldn’t get into the same crowded carriage as me. But in that carriage was a man smelling of week old, stale spices. Where are you after-shave man?

Limbs everywhere! A female colleague complained to me that on her commute, a man came up behind her and pressed his crotch into her derriere. I had arms on my crotch and both butt cheeks at various times – but unlike my colleague’s rendition, there was nothing anyone could do about it! Once again, the conductor was announcing that there was a train behind, and once again, everyone who could squeeze on did so. An incumbent woman told a large man who took the last available space what the conductor had said, and in an obvious Russian accent, he replied: “’Yes, I know! This is 5th train. All were bechind (sic.)”

I was most grateful to see an A train at Jay Street, as this would take me to the Wall Street area. Had the F really been the only train running into Manhattan, I might have had to walk from Chinatown in the steam-bath conditions. Supposedly, the temperature reached 100 degrees F today (38C). The humidity wasn’t much less and the underground subway platforms were far hotter. I reached the City at 10:30am, hot and weary; my bald, high forehead firmly greased with sweat, and it was a while before I could actually concentrate on my work. Could have been worse though! My commute home was normal. Had I lived in Queens, it could have been as much fun as the morning journey.

Duane Reade Pharmacies have the following prices for 400 IU Vitamin E:

100 for 6.49
250 for 12.29
350 for 9.98 (Labelled as ‘Value Pack’)
500 for 19.99

Obviously, some people buy the 250 and 500 counts, or else they wouldn’t make them. What kind of moron spends more for less when the two items are side-by-side on a shelf? Why pay double for less than 50% extra? Or to put it another way, why spend $20 on 500 when you can get 700 for the same money if only you use your eyes and your fucking brains!!! Now someone’s going to sue Duane Reade for the pain and suffering caused by that company making them feel stupid!

Who does this man make political contributions to? Why does his wealth allow him to break rules if he isn’t ‘exerting influence’? That, dear readers, is a rhetorical question! I know money talks and buys acquiescence. I also know that it is naïve to hope that New York officials are no longer corrupt. So, what has fired my ire?

There was an article in AM New York this morning http://www.amny.com/news/local/newyork/ny-nycond015315343aug01,0,228940.story

The Donald is building a 45 story building (the article states it as 42) in an area of Soho – that’s South of Houston Street, Manhattan, for non locals – that is zoned for manufacturing and not for dwellings. The only type of residence permitted in this area is hotels. So, Trump gets plans approved for the tower after agreeing that owners cannot stay in their condominium for more than 29 straight days or more than 120 days per year.

Owners do get a portion of the hotel fees when they are not home, and will supposedly be ‘fined’ double the hotel tariff for the each day they go over their allotment. But with 430 sq. ft. studios starting at $1 million and the 800 sq. ft one bedrooms going for twice that, it is understood that many people will stay year round and the regulations are not expected to be enforced. So, whether or not apartments are allowed in this area, if you are wealthy enough, you can build apartments. Simply supply rose-tinted glasses to politicians who reside in your very large pockets, and you can do anything you fucking like!


NB. For those who may not understand my writing style, 'rose-tinted glasses' is a metaphor. Any number of things can make a corrupt official see things in a more favourable light.