This is my desk at The Times. I have lots of pictures of my family on my desk, but as you can see, there isn’t a lot of space. Today, I have 3 new mounted prints I want to add to my collection.

Probably the single most common question I am asked is, “What is a mounted print?” Simple! It’s a regular print that is permanently attached to a flat surface, usually mat board.

This is a 5×7 print of one of my latest pictures of Gregory. I love the picture, so I want to put it on my desk. It would fit in any 5×7 frame, but I don’t want to take up any more space on my desk, so I’m just going to prop the print up on a makeshift easel.

This is my easel, a standard paperclip.

All I have to do is bend the paperclip…

…get a piece of tape…

tape the paperclip to the back…

…stand it up…

…Voila! A durable photograph displayed with no hassle and virtually no expense except what it cost me to purchase the mounted print. I get prints in various sizes for variety on my desk. 5×5, 4×6, 5×7, and sometimes I put up 7×10’s. That’s the other cool thing about the paperclip stand — I don’t have to worry about finding odd-size frames!

I love looking at pictures of my boys having fun!

Oooh! Little tip: be sure to write the date on the back of the print so you don’t forget when it was taken!

Even though all my prints are coated, I keep prints that aren’t covered with UV-coated glass away from direct sunlight. When they get dusty, I gently swish the dust away using a lint-free cloth.

With a little caution against bumping, paperclip prints should last for decades!

Six days after Easter: This is the day on which we first observe the emergence of leaves on the dogwood we are watching. Pathetically, the pool only has one entry: mine. I am guessing she’ll be at full blossom by Day 21 after Easter. What’s your guess?

Both of the pictures in today’s post were taken Saturday afternoon around 4:30 p.m. See the leaf buds on this one? I love watching trees grow!

As a little bonus spring shot, this is the view from my desk at The Times. Those are Natasha’s flowers. Thanks, Natasha, for the pretty view!

Innocent enough in black and white on a rainy night
at 40th and 8th.

But …

… in reality …

It’s NEON! Whoa!

By the way, my new camera takes awesome night time photographs. Charlie said this picture makes it look like it’s day time, but that’s just the street lights and the lights from that parking garage.

I think it’s a little bit pretty.

But I’m not so sure a lock was necessary.

Click the picture — or click here — and turn up the sound for a sweet little slide show from last night.



This was the view of 40th Street from the window behind my desk.



The night staff at The New York Times got a rare window feast.
Ok, not really. Most of us watched for over an hour and a half while they put the crane together. THAT was exciting (rolls eyes).

It was around midnight when the crane crew arrived to start
THE GREAT TREE HOIST.



Seven paper birch trees were delivered here from New Jersey, to be planted in the garden atrium that is surrounded by the Times newsroom.



The trees are big, or at least they look HONKIN’ big in the middle of 40th Street. At 25 years old and 50 feet tall, once planted in the garden, they will rise to the fourth floor windows. (Admittedly, the scale is hard to see, but the little orange road cone might give you an idea.)



That’s my window across the street from Popeye’s.



This picture might help a little with scale. Those root balls are the length of a car. The crane men are standing only about 15 feet away from the trees, so it’s not really a tricky photograph.

By the way, the night was a bit like the opening scene in Jurassic Park: misty rain, dripping wet trees, artificial flood lights, men in yellow construction rain suits, lots and LOTS of shouting. I was half expecting a raptor to jump of the back of the truck and start eating people.
Then this guy — he looked just like the guy in Jurassic Park who got eaten — walks up to me and he says, “How long you staying?”

Me: “I have a train to catch.”

Guy: “You need to stay all night, cuz one of them there tees is going through one of them there windows.”



I didn’t stay long enough to see a tree actually being lifted over the building and into the courtyard. But I did learn something new: crane assembly takes a REALLY long time.



Like I said, I had a train to catch.



But somebody was watching.



Check back next week for some courtyard shots, assuming the trees made it safely to their new home.

Turn up the sound and click the picture for a cool slide show!



It’s funny how so many New York Times staffers independently migrated to the 22nd floor to watch the fireworks (after the national edition deadline, of course).
A great vantage point on a rainy night, and a great view too!

The employee cafeteria on the 14th floor of the new Times building is simply stunning. STUNNING, I tell you! This is the view from over by the grill: Eighth Avenue looking toward Central Park.



Salad bar in the foreground, stir fry by the window. How many chefs get a view like that?



Drinks. I can’t decide. If only my fridge could be so organized.



Don’t bother bringing cash. It’s a cashless system, like an electronic tollbooth. You can use a guest card to pay, or your Times ID. Can’t help but wonder if my health insurance will reflect the fact that I ate a hamburger tonight.



The eating area has a balcony with couches, two story windows and fabulous views. (The man on the stairs is wiping away footprints.)



Gorgeous in the evening light!



This is one of several executive dining rooms in different sizes and with variously-shaped tables. I imagine there’s some protocol for what sort of event demands the large oval one, a melding of minds over half-and-half.

It’s like the Titanic in here: brand new ship with dishes all in place, the smell of fresh paint and an occasional unattended punchlist. I love the fact that the tables are set, ready and waiting for some bright dignitary or gathering of new faces, and yet, not a soul in sight. (No, mom, I ate my burger at my desk.)



Standing by the window, I turned around to see the decor, a splash of red under featured photographs from the Times pages. (The orange light on the glass is a reflection from the sunset.)



That’s New Jersey. Ahhh, home.
That Titanic reference is just too much for me.

Contest of the day — Before the move to the new building, I drove into the city and parked in the delivery bay of the Times building on 43rd Street. The first person to leave a comment guessing the precise number of miles I put on my car every day will win a $20 donation to the Somerset Regional Animal Shelter in your name. Remember, you don’t need to leave your full name in your comment post; I’ll know who you are by your e-mail address. (Thanks, Pat, for the donation idea!)

And thanks for playing!

The moving truck parked on Eighth Avenue by 39th Street was my first hint that I was approaching the new Times building.

See previous post about moving out of the 43rd Street Times building.

Notice the Port Authority building in the background. The Times is directly across the street. Bus riders from Jersey are pretty stoked about that one.

I’m taking the train these days, which, by the way, was a near disaster on my first night. The clock closest to my desk was set an hour early, and by the time I realized it, I had literally six minutes to make it to Penn Station for the last train to Metuchen. Lucky me, the train started moving about 15 seconds after I jumped on. (Two lessons learned: Never trust a brand new clock, and I SERIOUSLY need to exercise more.)

To backtrack just a bit, here’s what the new office looks like:



First of all, I didn’t know where I was going, so I had to follow the maze of signs within the scaffolding still surrounding the building.



The new lobby (complete with our dear old security guard friends).



Upon arriving at the 2nd floor, I had no idea where to go, and so I was happy to find a map with my name on a little purple box. Problem was, the map didn’t have one of those “You are here” pointers so I stood there squinting, trying in vain to find something marked “elevators” on that map so I’d have some clue which direction to go. Never found them.

So I just started wandering around looking for familiar graphics faces. “Joe!” (Found one.)



My first look at my new desk. A WINDOW! I’m near a window! Yay! The movers did a great job because all my stuff works, well most of it.



There’s Bradley on my screen! Feels like home already.



Speaking of Bradley, when I told him and Gregory that there’s a Popeye’s (think really greasy chicken) just outside that window, they were jumping up and down like baby sparrows at an earthworm farm.



The best thing about the new building is the red walls. Photographers and designers LOVE red. Would I have bothered to take this picture if that wall had been industrial-office-grey? Nah. However, the most common phrase I heard today: “I’m glad all the walls aren’t that color.” True. There’s only a splash here and there, albeit a BIG splash.



This is the view from my desk. I’m in a back corner, far away from most anybody else. It’s rather quiet.

LOOK! A human!



This is my desk after the unpacking. During the unpacking — hope you’re not eating your breakfast — I grossed out when I discovered mouse droppings at the bottom of the crate. I’m not even going to contemplate what that might mean. Nope, not going there.

Tucker? Tuck is that you?



This is what the rest of the 2nd floor newsroom looks like. (Red wall behind me.) The stairs lead up to the 3rd floor newsroom where the other half lives.


Thanks for bringing in the beautiful flowers, Natasha!

Quiz for the day: For a $10 Amazon gift card delivered via e-mail — What was the second most common phrase I heard today?

The New York Times (where I’m the night manager of news graphics) is moving into the brand new 52-story Times Tower at 620 Eighth Ave between 40th and 41st Streets.The scheduled move time for the graphics desk was Friday night after the paper closed. Eager to get started, the movers swarmed the graphics department around 12:35, about an hour before the whistle normally blows. (It’s actually a cow bell, but that’s another story).

See those orange crates? Except for the computers, we had to pack all our own stuff. When the packing crates arrived, our maps manager just happened to be wearing a crate-colored shirt. His posture expressed pretty much how we all felt about having to pack all our own stuff in those crates.


D-Day: The movers began swarming our floor at around 8:35 p.m. (They seemed so focused and hurried that I was just a little concerned they might put me on the truck too.)



Pink bubble wrap for Amanda’s computer.



No time wasted: this is a well-oiled machine of moving teams.



Overview of our little corner of the newsroom. The paper has been edited in this building since 1913. (I haven’t been there quite that long.)



Keyboards and Wacom tablets went into plastic bags.



Um, could you be careful with that baby?



The guy in the white shirt was assigned to my desk. He waited patiently while I took pictures. Most of the time he was standing behind me with his arms crossed tapping his fingers on his forearm.



That’s it. My computer is gone, taken right out from under my fingers. “Hope you don’t need anything else tonight,” I told the news desk. “All the computers in my department are gone.” (Perfect day for a slide if you ask me.)

Total time it took to clear out the graphics desk:
32 minutes start to finish.



The front lobby desk. I’ve walked by that desk nearly every day since 1990. One day soon it’ll probably be a Baby Gap or a Starbucks or something.



The newspaper was printed in the basement of the building on 43rd Street until 1997. The delivery trucks were loaded in the delivery bays you see above (that’s my car in the picture). How did I luck out with such a great parking perk? When the presses moved to College Point, Queens, the space in the bays wasn’t really being used for anything. When I was expecting Gregory seven years ago, the security guards (and Bob Sheridan) arranged to let me park in the bay. And this is where I’ve parked ever since — the best perk ever — FREE PARKING in Times Square! I am SO grateful for that generosity and for all the guards who opened the door for me coming and going.

Here’s one of my favorite parking stories: One night a few years ago, on my way into work around 7 p.m., two elderly women dressed to the nines were walking down the sidewalk on 43rd Street as I was about to drive into the bay. (They looked like tourists headed to the theatre.)

The guard held them back so I wouldn’t run them over. One of the women took out a camera, saying to the other woman, “Here, get her picture. She must be somebody important to get to park there.”

The guard didn’t skip a beat. “She owns the place,” he said.

For a brief moment, I was the subject of their paparazzi, my 30 seconds of fame. Alas, truth be told, I was nothing but a lucky peon with a fantastic parking perk. But that day, I couldn’t stop smiling.

With the move to the new building, I lose my parking place. The picture above shows my car parked in the bay for the last time.



Though I hold out hope that I’ll find luck in new ways!





Times Square just outside the Times building on my last exodus from 43rd Street, the hazy, misty air around 1 a.m. If you look closely, you might make out the moving truck coming down the street.

And finally, today’s contest:



This picture shows what was under my bookshelf after I disassembled it
– mouse droppings —
EVERYWHERE!

Ewwwwwwwww!

You can win a $10 iTunes gift card delivered via e-mail if you are the first person to leave a comment revealing the answer to this question:

For 10 years I have written stories, many have included adventures here in the 43rd Street buiding, and many of those involved stories of mouse sightings.

What was the name I gave to the central mouse character in my stories?

Hint: the answer can be found in the archive quotes and thoughts.

Remember, you don’t need to leave your full name in the comment post. I’ll know who you are by your e-mail address. Have fun!

Bob Sheridan has nearly finished his walk of every block of every street of Manhattan.



A selection of his photographs are on display through May 20.



Check it out at The Store Room Gallery inside
Gillard’s
20 Palmer Ave
Bronxville, NY.
(This picture looks AWESOME big.)



This sweet little boy shows up in the gallery opening slide show occasionally. He’s one of Bob’s grandsons. SO cute!



These feet do some major walking. By the time the project is complete, Bob will have walked more than 600 miles!



This is not Bob’s dog. He just wandered in to check out all the dog-walking shots I think. (This one is MY FAVE!)

(Oh, and here’s Bob taking a portrait of me taking Bob’s portrait.)



Congratulations on a great turn out for your first gallery showing, Bob! A huge success!

Turn up the sound and click here for the cool slide show from the gallery opening.

The photographs from Bob’s Walk are cataloged street-by-street at Coffeedrome. (Click here.)

It’s finally here!
“City of Nouns: Quotes and Thoughts From the Nightside, 1996-2006.”



I’m SO excited! This is a 600-page record of my life for the past 10 years!



It’s SO awesome!



That’s Bradley holding Gregory the day he was born in 2000, and the big picture is Gregory at 1 month old.



Many pages look like this, with a picture and a few short essays with dates at the end. I designed the book using Adobe InDesign, and printed it through Lulu.com.



Some spreads are photo compositions, with just pictures and captions. This comp is from our vacation last year. The top picture shows the hotel pool with an inset of the frog who sat by the pool and watched the swimmers. So funny.


This is Gregory’s 6th birthday. Not to let the younger child have fewer pictures than the older one, Gregory’s birthday pictures continue for three pages!



This is probably my favorite page. I like the design with my shoes in the middle of the essay, and I love the story too. It’s about a time when we were at Plainsboro Pond and I was lost in watching the geese. Gregory came up to me and I was rude to him; he had interrupted my alone time. But he said he just wanted to watch the geese with me. He put my arm around his shoulder and snuggled and said something really sweet and I just felt so comfortable and warm in that moment. I’m so glad I wrote it all down. I know I would have forgotten all about that by now if I hadn’t written it down.

My favorite aquarium picture is on the back of the book, with Bradley in the stereotypical “big fish” hand gesture. I even made a cute little logo — “jws press.” I love this book!

By the way, in case my brother, Bill, is reading this, I timed all this so that the one I sent to him would arrive on the 1-year anniversary of a very special day for us. (Thanks to UPS, I missed the actual anniversary by a day. Ugh.) So Bill — when you get yours, please turn to page 523 for the beginning of the story of our singing debut at Carnegie Hall! I love you, Bill, and I thank you SO much for encouraging me since I was a child to 1) love music and 2) get my stories into a book! Maybe one day I’ll edit down to the very best 200-or-so pages and send it to a publisher. Ahhh, someday. For now, I’m just THRILLED to be holding this book in my hands! YAY!

Here’s a good place to start for a few sample stories! Enjoy!