Prince Harry's Anonymity "Broken" By Drudge

Morning Edition, February 29, 2008 · The British Ministry of Defense confirmed Thursday that Prince Harry has been secretly serving in Afghanistan as a combat soldier for two and a half months. The British media had known about his deployment and never said a word. Michael Evans, defense editor for the Times of London, talks to Renee Montagne about Prince Harry's secret deployment, which was made public by the Drudge Report.
(link)

Has anyone else followed this story? I guess Prince Harry wanted to serve in either Afghanistan or Iraq and was assigned to a dangerous province in Afghanistan over the Christmas holiday. The British press agreed to keep his assignment and location secret, both for his protection as well as the protection of the men with which he was serving. From the few interviews that I have heard this morning with Harry, he comes across as quite a humble man, wanting to offer his service and have an experience like other English soldiers -- not bathing for days, dirty clothes, etc.

Well, I guess the Drudge Report "broke" where he was serving and with whom, and now Harry has to essentially be evacuated for, again, his and his company's safety. While I am all about freedom of speech, I do not know what this reporting serves. Why break this understood agreement? To what point? It just irks me, as I am convinced Harry actually wanted to do his time in a dangerous location and now that is for naught.

Songs You Can Put on Repeat and Let Play

Well, at least this evening. While I am still at work. I will start with five:

Handjobs for the Holidays, Broken Social Scene
Lost In the Supermarket, The Clash
Save It for Later, The English Beat
Her Royal Fisticuffs, Superchunk
A-Punk, Vampire Weekend

Designing Pittsburgh for the 21st Century

“Our goal is to create beautiful places with lasting value for the communities they serve.”

I was excited to open up my email from Pop City Pittsburgh yesterday to see an article on one of the co-founders of my old firm in Pittsburgh (Urban Design Associates), Don Carter. A few months ago, I posted a link to an article on David Lewis, the original founder of UDA. I guess Pop City likes their work -- or at least their personalities.

Great press for DKC!

Pittsburgh Photographer

Earlier today, my brother sent me the website of a Pittsburgh photographer, Dylan Vitone. He captures life in Pittsburgh through these extended panoramas. There are a number of them that I would love on my wall, to be honest.

www.dylanvitone.com/pittsburgh/index.html

Irving, John

I like having a favorite author. That might sound like an odd thing to proclaim, but I have been thinking about this for a little bit. There is comfort in having a library of books written by a particular person that you know you can revisit and use as an escape. This can be said for musicians, as well, but a favorite author requires more effort from the reader. When you pick up a four hundred-page book, you almost feel yourself taking a deep breath as you start to read page one -- you know it will take focus and concentration, even if you are enjoying every word.

I have a few authors that I really enjoy, but I have one favorite author, John Irving. And I just finished re-reading the first John Irving book that I ever picked up, A Son of the Circus. It was the spring of 1996 and I was traveling Sicily with my architecture class. I had been reading that year, especially on the field trips that we had. I don't remember much, though -- my mom sent me the Celestine Prophecy for Christmas and I rushed through that. And I know there were more. But John Irving's India-centered book made an indelible mark on my cousciousness. My classmate Marybeth was reading it, and I am not sure what caught my attention, but she let me read it as soon as she was done. And I was hooked. I was immediately attracted to his mix of unique characters, humor, and, well, sexuality. There was this mix of casualness along with a complete understanding (or convincing) description of settings.

Since then, I have read almost everything Irving has published, and I have been lucky enough to have seen him speak twice. There are also vivid memories of reading his other stories -- when I was in San Francisco in 1997, for example, and I found a few of his books on my landlord's bookshelf. I have a full shelf here in my apatment devoted to Irving and his books. There is comfort in looking at those titles and letting myself fall into the story, even if it is for a few seconds . . .

Pumped for the Commute Home

Last night, as I was walking from the Shuttle to the 6, four kids were arranged at the end of the tracks. One had cymbals, another was on a bass drum, and the remaining kids had their own drums. And as I walked by, they broke into one of those drum line cadences. Like a mini marching band. And I couldn't help but get kind of excited -- my heart started racing, my head was bobbing, this grin spread across my face, and I was filled with pride for some unknown sports team. Just like that. With a minute or two of these four teenagers playing percussion.

I was a bit stunned with how easy it happened. I am easily effected by music, of course, but it is interesting how a certain type of music has a specific effect on my emotions. Is it cultural? Natural? If someone had never been to a sporting event, or never heard a marching band before, what would their reaction be? I will never forget my classmate's Brian's claim that if he ever went into battle, he would want the sound of bagpipes in his ears (Brian was in ROTC; he is currently serving his second or third tour of duty in Iraq; I hope to god he returns without ever having the need to hear bagpipes).

For some reason, I thought of Brian and his claim in Rome eleven years ago as I walked down the ramp last night with the sound of drums slowly fading into the murmor of commuters . . .

Heart Day

I just wanted to share some quick thoughts about Valentine's Day. In more ways than one, it was Heart Day for me. And what a hectic day it was. Office meetings, internal deadlines, hour-long phone conversations with rambling clients, and a two-hour studio meeting that was filled with review of the office manual (vacation, sick time, when to be at work, etc.). Somewhere in there, I needed to head across town for my annual echo cardiogram. It is similar to a sonogram, where a technician uses this great GE machine with big chunky knobs, a keyboard, monitor, speakers, and a few "wands" that she coats with jelly and moves around my bare chest. Just as if they were checking to see if I had twins. This time around, though, they were checking on a valve of mine that is bicuspid rather than the normal tricusp. I don't find anything out during the appointment; all the results are sent to my cardiologist. This includes images, graphs, the sound of my heart's blood flow, and other interesting pieces of information that they were able to capture.

So, this was stuck in the middle of my afternoon last week. The studio meeting ran late that night, so I became a bit rushed -- and somewhat frantic -- in that I was going to miss our Valentine's Day dinner at this cute, rustic Tuscan restaurant in the East Village, I Coppi. So I used the subway, walked, and then took a cab to get there about twenty minutes late. In my rush, I forgot Laura's cards. I felt quite bad and was out of breath when I sat down. Thankfully, our waitress was quite friendly and carefree and I relaxed into dinner rather quickly. It was quite good food (at least most of the courses) comprised of burrata, gnocchi and ravioli, veal and eggplant, and two nice cakes. By the time we left, there was a huge line of couples waiting to sit down (not fault of ours, mind you; we were told we had until 9:30 and left at 9:00).

Just Some Quick Updates

- After having a record-breaking high temperature last week, today is the coldest day in the past year or so, reaching down below zero with wind chill. Lovely, huh? I mean, I really don't mind winter. I like snow. I love the seasons. Bitter cold, though, is not pleasant.

- Maybe this temperature variation has something to do with these sinus colds that I keep experiencing. I know that temperature is not supposed to have an effect on "colds," but there has to be something to it.

- I am not sure how to describe it as a music genre -- from the thirties, forties, and early fifties, mostly strings -- but there is a certain "type" of music that immediately conjures a picture of my grandmother in my head. It is usually music from an old movie, or maybe even some holiday music, but I think of Gram Jobes's kitchen on Exeter Road in Millcreek. I even think of my Grandpa's old radio -- the one with the big knobs and various weather bands -- that used to play the music every time I was there as a kid. Maybe it was more Grandpa who was responsible for having it on . . .

Brother the Designer

My brother submitted a design as part of Keen Footwear's Stand Up, Stand Out, Stand For contest.

His entry can be found here.

Hopefully he wins sumfin!

Two Wins in Three Years!

Laura and I just got home after watching the game at a friend's apartment. I will say that Liberty Avenue in Bloomfield, in the snow, was more exciting than the sidewalks here in the Upper East Side -- but it was still pretty damn cool. Two Super Bowl celebrations in three years. I'll take it. Congratulations, Giants.

Two years ago, this evening: