It’s not bocci. IT’S NOT BOCCI.

It’s pétanque.

Governor’s Island is not New York. It’s a time machine.

It’s a rare thing on my morning commute to not see a bunch of tourists standing in line to stand right up in the bull’s ass for a photo op.

Zuccotti Park, once and briefly the epicenter of a movement, is now a thriving epicenter of street food. Tasty, tasty street food.

The trusty dollar store, guarded diligently by the trusty Citibikes.

The art of construction and destruction.

Because my need for coffee outweighs any sense of expediency, my daily commute now takes me straight through the bowling green bull and defiant girl statues. I actually enjoy it, because it’s been fun people watching so far.

This morning, two Asian walking tour groups battled it out for dominance and dibs, and this gentleman was very angry. It was hard to tell who won, exactly, but he seemed to be forced into retreat by the time I walked right through the middle of the battleground.

Today, for the sake of a good shot, I hopped on a plane, traveled to Tokyo, took this shot of Golden Gai, and then rushed right back home.

I swear.

At long last, I’ve finally gotten the bar end mirrors I’ve been craving.

Finally back to that daily grind.

That Freedom spike.

Yes, another cheat. This month has been rough! So, yet again, another entry into the Japan Cheat Month Chronicles.

Every now and then you have a chance to see the same old thing in a new light, and the mundane becomes exciting again.

You guys. I made bacon. Like, from scratch. Well, not like the raised-the-pig brand of from scratch (which, incidentally, I am doing for a future glorious roast, but that’s for another day.)

No, I made bacon! I cured this slab of pork belly for a week, and then smoked it, and it came out beautifully. Must do this all the time.

Another tough day, so another cheat!

Today, though, I have a special treat for you.

This is Kei. He owns Caffe Oggi in Kyoto, and this place is a treasure. Every single piece of furniture has a history and a story that Kei is excited to share. There’s even a hundred year old vacuum cleaner in the corner. But his prized possession is his cash register. Apparently it’s nicknamed Daruma, is from 1918, and is the only working register in existence. I have never seen somebody so proud of his work and so thoroughly excited to share his story. Oh, and the coffee was Excellent!

This month is starting out pretty tough. No photo today, so instead, let’s daydream once more of Japan.

My daily scenery.

This is a big, big world.

Not sure why, but there were dozens of crossfit types running in large gleeful packs. Some kind of jock scavenger hunt or some such thing.

Near and far.

I do enjoy a classy t-shirt.

Good bye, Manhattan. Hello beach. Hello sun. Sun, stop hurting me.

Vivid Brooklyn on full display.

Walk this way!

I just can’t see straight tonight.