Mornin'! Was it the rain, the wind or the low pressure that kept me asleep for 10 hours?

It appears to be mostly over--lots of people have lost power and coastal areas and rivers in New Jersey are flooding, but nothing unprecedented. I'm reminding myself you want hurricanes to be an anti-climax.

In my little corner of the world, there's water damage and a lot of wet-looking bricks up near the ceiling right above where I found the pile of brick-dust on earthquake day, so apparently that was non-cosmetic damage. But the bricks absorbed all the leakage, nothing of mine got wet.

Two other bits of good news--my bathtub holds water, and I don't need it for flushing assistance yet.

There doesn't even look like there's anything to take a picture of. You can't photograph subways not running.

TV is back on. NY1 is taking calls from the public, Bianca from Queens wants to know, "Is court going to be open Monday?"

Update from storm central: TV is out; Internet and phone are still on. Peg Bracken's cola chicken has been tasted and is as trailer as you could wish for.

Fun rainy day project: register to vote! I haven't voted since moving to NY (5 years, y'all!), agreeing with Brian Doherty 'I refuse to legitimize which thief robs me'. But I've felt bad a couple of times that I couldn't sign petitions to get my peeps on the ballot, and just cast my vote to frown at the oligarchy.

I'm trying to think of a slogan for a flier for a table I'm working at something called Liberty Fest in a couple of weeks. Current front runner: Third Parties are the New Black. Here's the site:

http://lfnyc.com/

You know when freedom is involved, you're going to see some white guys. I don't know who he is, but that Gary Franchi guy looks pretty dreamy!

Dateline: Brooklyn, storm central. Down towards the canal, there are lots where big tourist buses park, and they made a conga line to higher ground at about 11 o'clock. It reminded me how Ray Nagy did not do the same during Hurricane Katrina, leaving NO's school buses to get flooded, then begged Greyhound to send buses to help evacuate, which it did. Skip a bit . . . and then he was reelected.

Anyway, chicken has been cooked, ham has been pulverized into salad, pudding has been made, hair and person have been washed, and dishes are being washed now. (Not 100% trusting of water/plumbing services tomorrow.) Mom called this morning to ask if I was evacuating. Knowing me, she then said, "Are you supposed to be evacuating?" I'll be fine as long as I have Jonathan Schwartz on the radio for company.

Everyone's comparing this to 9/11, but I'm reminded of Y2K. (Which ironically, Mister Cantor did not get worked up over, despite his motto, "Danger everywhere!". "It was too technical," he said.) I had 56 gallons of water stockpiled in my living room and a trunk full of firewood that was still there when I sold the car the next year. Aww, the car, where are you now, Mister Salty?

New York is canceled this weekend.

I'm glad I'm out of my apartment that flooded all the time, but I'm going to be keeping my eye on the Gowanus canal. Right now it's two blocks away . . .

If you live long enough, you see it all. Last night at a restaurant, I sat next to two elderly women. As they waited for their check, one took out a lipstick, applied it, then passed it to her friend who did the same.

I think I just found some earthquake damage, a pile of orange brick dust along the floorboard in the kitchen. I'm sure I wouldn't have thought anything of it if I'd been here, trucks on 7th Street shake the house all the time.

Mister Cantor, up on the 19th floor, felt his office chair roll around and thought he was getting the dizzies.

Tonight's menu--Peg Bracken's cola chicken. You coat a baking dish with ketchup, layer three pounds of chicken parts (I'll buy a "bag of legs" on the way home from the gym), add a can of coke and voila! Or perhaps more accurately, yee-haw!

I've been doing logic puzzles lately. They occupy their own little universe where kids go on field trips and enter contests, suburbanites plant and paint, and hobbyists go to conventions in costume.

Has everyone noticed how many smurfs there are, relative to the one female? And how is she related to Papa Smurf?

Something old, something new. . .

Congratulations to my cousin Mary and her new husband, Al Peterson. They're a great couple, currently honeymooning in Maine. I didn't get a chance to make my toast at the reception, so here it is: "Naturally we're all here to celebrate the bride and groom, but I'd also like to thank the mathematicians who developed the match.com algorithm who introduced them. Well done, nerds!"

The second shot is Brookdale mall in Brooklyn Center, the entrance I used when I worked at National Uniform Shop, with one of the great old broads who appear in my life whenever I need them, Char Adney. RIP, Char, and B-dale!