This photograph of Central Park in Manhattan was taken by aerial photographer Sergey Semenov.
Lydia Callis, NYC Mayor Bloomberg’s ASL interpreter, is fantastically animated. She makes quite a striking juxtaposition with Bloomberg, possibly one of the least expressive people on the planet. She’s become so popular that she even has her own fan-tumblr, and according to Kambri Crews of the Huffington Post (also a Child of Deaf Adults, or CODA), Callis’ expressiveness is not play-acting at all:
The only harmful editorial I’ve seen in sharing clips of Callis in action aren’t criticizing her or her skills or uncovering a widespread hatred of deaf people or their language. Nope, they love her and are fascinated by ASL. Instead, their “negative” comments are borne from unfamiliarity with ASL as a language assuming Callis is being “over-animated” or hopped up on Red Bull.
For example, these folks on Huffington Post, excited to share her awesomeness said she’s “mugging for the camera and gesturing wildly“. If you read the full post, you’ll quickly surmise they are big fans of Callis. But in their description of her interpreting, they show their ignorance on how ASL works.
We speakers of ASL know that her exaggerated expressions are key to conveying tone, meaning and emotion. DUH! Sure, it’s a bit lazy on the writer’s part to not research something before making comment. They meant no harm. It was a fun piece. What’s to research? I get it. But many, probably most, people who aren’t familiar with ASL don’t realize Callis’ emphatic signing is an essential attribute of the language.
A great piece about a wonderful man in New York City and his fascinating home.
Bookseller Charles Mysak has sold books out of his car every day in the same spot in New York City’s Upper West Side for 11 years, feeding 36 dollars in quarters into the parking meter every day to keep the space. Alden Peters, a student at NYU, has made a short documentary about Mysak.
Tom Chiarelle, writing for Esquire magazine, went to New York City with a stack of $20 bills to see what it could get him. Turns out it gets you a lot. From the article:
A twenty should not be a ticket so much as a solution. You have a problem, you need something from the back room, you don’t want to wait, you whip out the twenty.
I could have stood in line at the airport cabstand for fifteen minutes like every other mook in the world, freezing my balls off, but such is not the way of the twenty-dollar millionaire. I walked straight to the front of the line and offered a woman twenty bucks for her spot. She took it with a shrug. Behind her, people crackled. “Hey! Ho!” they shouted. I knew exactly what that meant. It wasn’t good. I needed to get in a cab soon. One of the guys flagging cabs pointed me to the back of the line. That’s when I grabbed him by the elbow, pulled him close, and shook his hand, passing the next twenty. I was now down forty dollars for a twenty-dollar cab ride. He tilted his head and nodded to his partner. I peeled another twenty and they let me climb in. As we pulled away, someone in the line threw a half-empty cup of coffee against my window.
The $20 Theory of the Universe [Esquire]