It's my brother's birthday today. Happy 43rd, John!

How cool is it that the Sex Pistols are getting back together? Pretty fucking cool, I think, even if it is for just one gig.

After a near-record twelve nominations without a win, our writers finally got the Emmy last night for Outstanding Writing for a Variety, Music or Comedy Program. Congratulations to Conan, headwriter Mike Sweeney, Tim Harrod, Michael Koman, Andrew Weinberg, Kevin Dorff, Guy Nicolucci, Chris Albers, Jose Arroyo, Dan Cronin, Dan Goor, Michael Gordon, Berkley Johnson, Brian Kiley, Brian McCann, and Brian Stack. You guys deserve it.

I walk down this street every day on my way home from work and usually about this time of night, too, so it was great finding this picture from 1911. It's funny how, even 100 years later, not much has really changed. The clothes people are wearing, obviously, and I wish that the lampposts were as beautiful these days. But essentially it's the same. The Flat Iron is the same. Madison Square Park there on the left looks no different. Those buildings on the west side of fifth avenue are all still standing--I've always loved that one with the little dome on it. It's gold-leaf now. Wish we could see what color it was then. And I wish we were just a few feet closer to the corner of 23rd street and Broadway. There's a 60's era apartment building on that corner now, but I'd love to see what was there at the time this picture was taken.

I grew up on 14th street and Avenue A, so 23rd and 5th was about as far north as I went without parental accompaniment. That lasted probably right up until I went to high school. I know what 14th street looked like before Stuy Town was built in the 40's--nothing at all like it looks now with it's organized rows of red brick buildings, and I've seen the street change quite a bit even in the relatively short span of my life here. But it is nice to see that some things in New York are, indeed, permanent.

The Saks Fifth Avenue flagship store in New York recently made the news by announcing that their entire 8th floor would be turned into a giant, mega shoe department. Shoes, shoes and nothing but shoes! The department was so large, they said, that it needed its own zip code. Yes, Saks shoe department has its own zip code.


Now, I can't begin to tell you how excited this made me. Yes, though I'm slightly embarrassed to admit it, I fall into that stereotype of the shoe-crazed female, and yes, I have a closet overflowing with them (and clothes, too, but that's a whole other addiction.) So when I heard about the zip code sized shoe palace--I swear, I almost wept with happiness. And it was at Saks, no less, right across the street from my office! I could walk over there at around 12:30, roll around in the shoes to my little heart's content and not even be late for rehearsal.

Well, last week I went over there to do just that. And, jeez, what a disappointment! Yes, there were shoes, but not exactly in the orgasmic numbers a whole separate zip code seems to imply. And contrary to all the reports, it wasn't even the whole floor! Half the place was taken up by housewares. Seriously, if you advertise a shoe extravaganza, it really better be an extravaganza.


What a dud.

The mail seems to be working now, although I do think I lost one or two over the last couple of days. Well, not much I can do about it. If you emailed me and haven't heard from me yet, try try again.

Home email's still not working. I'm starting to feel like Ewan McGregor in "Trainspotting" when his parents lock him in his room to detox and he sees dead babies crawling across the ceiling.

My email went down today--something to do with the cable modem on the server or some such. I don't know. Whenever Mike talks tech, all I hear is the adults' wah-wah from a "Peanuts" special. In any case, my Outlook seems to have gathered some mail, but I have a sneaking suspicion a lot is missing and most likely gone for good. So if you emailed me and don't hear from me, send it again, preferably to my office. I'm there more often than I'm here, anyway, so it just makes sense.

Look, I'm no fan of Britney Spears, either, and not just because of the brainless pop princess, kinder-whore image she fostered and sold back when people (not me) still considered her an artist. And not just because of her hypocrisy about how squeaky clean she was and what a good little virgin she was when really she was smoking and drinking and fucking Justin Timberlake. Oh, and then there's also that lovely little video clip of her instructing us all to "trust our president," the memory of which caused me to feel absolutely no guilt as I gleefully derided her very public, head-shaving mental crack up. And from what I saw of her performance last night, yeah, her booty-shaking skills have atrophied somewhat since the last time anyone saw her strut around onstage in a shiny bikini.

Though I knew she was ill, this still breaks my heart. Like a lot of F&SF people, I was introduced to her books as a child with "A Wrinkle in Time" which was, and still remains, a favorite of mine, as are "A Swiftly Tilting Planet," "A Ring of Endless Light" and "A House Like a Lotus." And her non-YA work was also wonderful--a lot of it really heartbreaking. Madeleine had a way with flawed characters. She also wrote about New York. Several of her books took place on the Upper West Side, (which, as a Lower East Sider, I didn't hold against her) in or around the cathedral of St. John the Divine, one of the most beautiful churches in the city. I'm feeling very sad right now.

We do a bit on the show called "Pierre Bernard's Recliner of Rage" where Pierre, one of our graphic artists, complains about things that bother him, usually having something to do with SciFi Channel shows or collectables of some sort. On tonight's show, he's talking about Dragon Con. It's really funny. Check it out.

Congrats to all the Hugo winners--and the Not a Hugo winner.