Here’s US Airways Flight 1549—the quickest way to the Hudson River—being towed through suburban East Rutherford NJ on its way to…actually I have no idea where it’s going. A new lawn ornament for Captain “Sully” Sullenberger? The tin can factory? You can click on them for a better look.

I’d credit these shots but I don’t know who took them. My sister forwarded them to me.

Walk out of Penn Station on the 7th Avenue side, cross 7th Avenue and turn left. Walk up one block and just past 33rd street on your right you’ll see this:

Walk inside and for a guaranteed piece of stinky culinary heaven, order up one of these beauties.

What an elegant place setting! The closer I got to the sandwich, the more I realized that in addition to a scrumptious meal that will stay with you a long, long time, it’s also a brilliant piece of Abstract Expressionism

Art that you can put in your mouth and savor. It’s worthy of an NEA grant.

Unless you have a little girl in your life, you are probably unaware that the clever marketers at Disney have amassed a sizable fortune by bundling the Disney princesses together as though they were the Justice League of America and have been selling, selling, selling the hell out of them. Not only DVD’s but clothing, books, knick-knacks, costumes, foodstuffs, dinnerware etc. The list is ENDLESS.

My problem, aside from the predatory marketing to children, is the message that some of the old guard Princesses send to my daughters.

There is, believe it or not, a Princess hierarchy with Cinderella at the top of the food chain. Next in line is Sleeping Beauty with the others trailing behind in various ranks of importance.

The older, most popular, stories carry the exact same sad theme. That is to say, at the end of each story each princess is either in a comatose state (Sleeping Beauty), dead (Snow White) or is destine to a lifetime of slavery and cruelty (Cinderella) until what? Until some man walks into their lives and rescues them from their horrible fate. I don’t want my daughters to grow up thinking that redemption and happiness will only arrive when they are “saved” by a prince. It’s a lie.

I’ve observed that each little girl tends to gravitate towards one special princess who becomes her “favorite.” When she was going through this phase, 7-Year Old Daughter, without any encouragement or guidance from me, thank God almighty, favored Mulan, Pocahontas and Jasmine, who were not only the more self-reliant Princesses of the bunch, but were minorities to boot! She didn’t get all wrapped up in the 1950s lily white suburban princess dream. Mulan and Pocahontas reject marriage at the end of their movies for a greater good! Go 7-Year Old!

Last night, 2.5-Year Old Daughter asked me to read to her. I told her to go get some books. She came back with a arm full of Disney Princess books. So now it begins all over again.

I got tagged by *E* Deconstructed and this looks like a fun one so I’ll play along.

You’re supposed to post a pic of the bag you use on a daily basis, list how much it costs and then reveal the contents. While it’s true that, for the most part, men do not carry bags around, in New York City bags are a way of life for everyone because we use public transportation. It’s not unusual to see a man schlepping a bag around town. Please spare me your witless cross-dressing-do-your-shoes-match-your-bag comments.

I bought this bag, literally, about 15 years ago and have no idea what it cost. It’s made by Timberland. It has pockets and zippers. It’s functional. What else is there to say?

My Lenovo ThinkPad and slip-in carrying case (Lenovo bought the ThinkPad franchise from IBM. This laptop is less than a year old and it has given me nothing but problems almost since the day I bought it. LENOVO SUCKS. DO NOT BUY LENOVO PRODUCTS.), my iPod, camera, wallet, LG cell phone (mobile is a more accurate and descriptive term), an extra cell (mobile) battery, a lapel pin from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and an umbrella.

My portfolio of work samples, a Playbill from the show I saw last night (The American Plan. Fantastic. Post TK.), the book I’m reading (Almost No Memory by Lydia Davis), a New Jersey Transit North Jersey Coast Line train table, my cell phone jammer, the manual for my camera, some paper mittens that 7-year old daughter made for me and my filofax (so old school, I know.)

Not pictured: a lot of boring paperwork, the New York Times and my ben-wah balls. Ha. Just kidding about the latter. I’m testing to see if you read to the end of the post. Feel free to post your own bag.

Game on!

This is pig on top of cow New York Greek diner style. I wish I had had a ruler with me so that I could provide a scale. It was slightly smaller than a sewer lid.

Colon sent a message to mouth:

“Noooooo! Don’t do it! You’ll kill us ALL!”

Mouth didn’t listen.

I belong to a local chapter of peta.

My chapter is: People Eating Tasty Animals.

Yum-yum.