Friday, October 2, 2015

Thursday, October 1, 2015

from here to maternity

Japan is aging. 

Over 61,00 people are over the age of 100, and 87% of them are women.

Last year 1.3 million people died with barely 1 million births. 

This is the fifth straight year for a failing population.

So Japan needs women in the workforce, 
to make up a growing slack. 

But there’s a problem:

In Japan, female workers who get pregnant 
are considered a drag upon the team.


They face persecution so ingrained in Asian culture it has a name, “matahara”, literally “maternity harassment.”

Men will not do housework. Women are tied to their homes.

The Prime Minister launched a program to pay companies to promote women to senior positions. 

That was a year and a half ago.

No one is interested.

If you are unwilling to die at your desk you are going nowhere.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

piano district, piano man

This is the time to remember
Cause it will not last forever.

These are the days to hold on to
Cause we won't although we’ll want to.

This is the time.
But time is gonna change.

I know we've got to move somehow
But I don't want to lose you now.

Always looking for what’s next, we move to a marginal neighborhood whose appeal is due to the presence of 
the artists, musicians and writers. 

Then we discover that character dissipates
 when the people who made it interesting leave, 
as the developers arrive.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

say goodbye


Fifth Avenue just below 23rd Street was fashionable as young men were leaving to fight the Civil War.


The townhouse at 180 Fifth was built in 1862, and is currently undergoing interior demolition.

Walking past is like visiting an architectural museum.


The original tin ceiling is revealed now that the sheetrock ceiling has been taken down.

The tin crown molding is also still there.

In this picture you can see the original horsehair plaster crown, with old knob and tube electric wiring.

“Horsehair” refers to actual hair curried from the work animals and blended into the plaster mix, much like reinforcing rod in today’s concrete.

And on the front a beautiful, handmade copper cornice.

Covered in 150 years of peeling paint.

180 Fifth also has the lurid history of a prostitute’s suicide while her aristocratic lover slept. 

But that’s a story for