Author: Stacy Horn

This is the old web server, sitting here in the cabinet on the right. I remember when it looked so new and compact and shiny to me. Oh man. I should put together a small collection of pictures of the hardware of Echo. We’ve been around for 18 years. We went from a computer sitting underneath my desk at home, to a bunch of computers in our own gorgeous offices in Tribeca, to these two thin, sleek machines sitting in a co-location site, with a bunch of other machines belonging to God knows who and NO people. It’s a very spooky, 1984-type place.

But below is the new server, sitting on top of the machine that runs Echo. That’s Joe from Panix in the back, hooking up the server to the world.

I’m also learning how to insert text boxes and arrows and whatnot. What do you think? I think I need to go back to the drawing board. I could make it clearer, and more aesthetically pleasing. Expect to see text boxes and arrows in my photographs for a while as I learn to get the hang of them.

Anyway, I’m sure one day these sleek, thin machines will eventually look old and clunky to me, too. As we all will one day look old and clunky to ourselves. Except it’s not a good analogy. Whereas we all really will be old and clunky, the machines don’t change, only our perception of them.

I’ve been working like a dog all weekend, getting ready to replace Echo’s webserver next week, and keeping up with my book deadline. But I have to stop and relax now. I’m totally burnt out and any work I do at this point is useless, anyway, so STOP STOP STOP. (I am shouting at myself. In my mind.)

I am luring myself away with a baby dog on a keyboard, which was sent to me almost simultaneously by two separate friends. Couldn’t you just die?? Don’t you want him?? Why oh why can’t he be mine?? Oh little baby doggie, I love you truly.

Okay, I think I will go curl up on the couch now. I have America’s Next Top Model to look forward to.

This is my friend Lianne Smith at the Living Room last night, before the show started, getting ready. It was a great show. She sang this haunting song about a moth that flew in her window, and I actually had to stop listening to the words because it sounded like something very bad was going to happen to that moth. A spider was mentioned and I immediately shut down. Nothing good could come of that combination. But the melody was beautiful and Lianne’s voice was sublime.

I’m planning my day. Since every study seems to indicate that you need to exercise EVERY day, I try to do something that might count as exercise EVERY day. When I go to the library, I walk there and back (a decent walk, I go to the main branch on 42nd Street). I’m trying to decide, should I go to the gym today, or the library? I only have a few things I need to look up and I like to wait until I have a pile of stuff and make a day of it.

Can I just say, our library is so great. It has everything. I’m writing about this psychic and I found two instances where the ACLU got involved because of his actions. So I call the ACLU to see if I can get copies of their annual reports, and they don’t have them! But guess who does? The New York Public Library. (I gotta believe the ACLU has them somewhere though, but it’s easier at this point to run up to the library.)

So, wait until I have a ton to do at the library and go to the gym, or take a nice walk to the library?

This is the great and wonderful Meg Myles, and I will explain why she is so great. I hope she doesn’t mind that I am using this picture, but come on. Look how gorgeous she is in this shot.

Here’s the story. I saw a wounded pigeon huddled on its side by a wheel of a car on my way home from the library yesterday. I tried to walk on, a million katrillion birds and someone’s going to help me do something about one??? I got two blocks, but I knew I’d be haunted by it so I went back. It was the most pathetic, sorry sight, the little, turned over, partly splayed bird trying to hide behind the wheel of a car. I called Howard and asked him to google “pigeon rescue New York.” He was sure it was a waste of time, nothing would come back, but it turns out there are people in New York City who will help wounded pigeons. I left a message for them, got a box from a jewelry store, and took the pigeon home.

To make a long story short, a couple of hours later I was in the apartment of Meg Myles, who is like a bird first responder. She’ll give them first aid, food, and a safe place to eat and sleep until they can be picked up by the guy who will take them to the vet and then bring them to his sanctuary when they are healed. I was upset and so I didn’t take down the names of all these people. The website that got this incredibly efficient machine started on the behalf of my poor bird is here.

Meg is an actress, has done a lot of Broadway, soap operas, starred in Satan in High Heels, she was a pin-up girl in the 50’s (my shot must be from that era). She’s also a singer and there was a picture of her and Frank Sinatra on her wall.

But I was transfixed watching her tend to my poor pigeon. She handled him expertly, got him drinking and eating. I was a bit of wreck and her care of him really calmed me down. Meg just called!! The doctor said he was hit by a car and had a broken leg and wing, but they’re going set his breaks, tube feed him, and he should be okay! Pigeons heal quickly and they expect him to be okay in a week, at which point he’ll go up to that bird sanctuary.

I feel so much better. I was part of that efficient machine that made a tiny life better. Thank you, Meg and everyone else, Al and Don I think are the other names. I’m sorry I didn’t make sure to get the full names.

I took yesterday off, which meant making a few phone calls, doing a little work related reading and then switching to fun reading, which currently is Ishiguro’s Remains of the Day. I tried to read it without seeing Anthony Hopkins (who played the lead role in the movie version of the book) but Hopkins got the character so right it was hopeless. I’ve surrendered to it.

Today I’ve got choir rehearsal, and then tonight a book party for a very very very interesting sounding book: Muses, Madmen, and Prophets: Rethinking the History, Science, and Meaning of Auditory Hallucination by Daniel B. Smith. This book could potentially be both fun and work-related. I’m interested in the subject regardless of the book, AND it’s related to what I’m writing about.

Poll Question: Do you ever hear things? Voices or footsteps, or anything? (I used to sometimes hear music that wasn’t there. My mind seemed to resolve noise into music, ie, an air conditioner would sound like a brass band. It was unnerving, and I was glad when it stopped!)