Giant see-thru reclining woman in community garden #potus

This wicker woman (not to be confused with the New England pronunciation of wicca woman) is nestled in a little alcove garden on 113th street in Harlem. The benches below seem to indicate that at some point foliage will cover the woman making her green and provide shade.

I'll try to revisit her in September. Hope she's in full bloom by then.

Hungry lion waits 'til I get just a little closer.

Edward Clark Potter sculpted these two iconic lions for the New York Public Library's 42nd street branch. Their names are Leo Astor and Leo Lenox, Lady Astor and Lord Leonox, or Patience and Fortitude depending on the era in which you read about them. (Even though both lions are male, I'm sure Lady Astor would have taken it as a compliment.)

Supposedly, Potter is best known for equestrian sculptures, but our library is such a central part of our city that we only know him for his felidae sculputures.

We've got the Key To The City!

Creative Time is sponsoring a public art project called Key To The City. Carrie (above) helped us fill out our ceremonial statements so that we could bestow keys upon each other.

Our first stop was Bryant Park, a great little oasis of green in midtown NYC. We found several key holders intermittently illuminating a park lamp.

The lock box was jam packed with notes and trinkets from fellow key holders.

Then it was on to the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the last day of their participation in the Key To The City project. A stately gentleman presented us with the last remaining two passes to the museum inside a music box that played New York, New York. We offered our passes to the next key holder since we come to the museum regularly. Having done this, we became the second-to-last Key To The City visitors to the Met! Yay.

More Key To The City pictures to come.

Girl Survives Moose Attack Thanks to Cracker

Moose attacks are big news this week as a boy from Norway uses valuable lessons learned from gaming to save his sister and himself from an angry moose. (Boy Survives Moose Attack Thanks To World Of Warcraft)

The boy has won the gratitude of children around the world who are still trying to counteract the negative parental effects of the Video Games Probably Make Kids Dumber Study. I can hear the pleading now: I may be dumber, but I will be able to save little Isabella from a moose (Isabella is the most popular name for girls in New York State in 2009, and the probable name of most little sisters).

Fear not POTUS fans, this collector tamed her moose with a pewter cracker.

If you don't have a pewter cracker on you (or aren't as cracked in the head as this collector), you can try these much more successful survival tactics helpfully provided by Glacier National Park - which will also tell you what wolves eat (does the list start with kids who play lots of World of Warcraft?)

Manolo Valdez cracker skirt

At the 72nd street subway on Broadway, two Manolo Valdez sculptures stand guard at the entrance.

Strap on a cracker belt buckle and don't go 'round naked.

I've just completed a saltine that you can have with you every day. It's the new cracker belt buckle designed for a 1 1/2 inch strap (it fits standard belt loops).

My Mother used to say that you might as well be naked if you go out in public without a belt. This was the thinking about hats before President "Hatless Jack" Kennedy's 1961 inauguration, or undershirts before Clark Gable killed the men's undershirt industry. Obviously, these appear to be false claims, but I'd rather be sure that you don't unknowingly go around naked.

Available in brass at POTUS31. Also available in silver and gold on request.

Walking Man: Don't Tread on Me.

I love the Central Park walking/running/blading lane. Of course, it's shoulder to shoulder with the high-speed biking lane. The bikers are often faster than the cars (when cars are allowed in the park). I've actually seen police giving tickets to bikers. Look for the walking lane if you're new to New York and you'll be less likely to get run over by a Type A New Yorker.