"Excuse me, do you have a moment?"

Greenpeace. Save the Children. The Mormon Church. Lincoln Square is infested with sidewalk solicitors who want to know if they can take just one minute of your time.

Since my answer is always no, I figured out a way to protect my ability to go about my business, uninterrupted.

Simply open your cell phone and pretend to talk on it. You don't even have to call anyone. Just have it open next to your ear. This little trick has warded off one hundred percent of these irritating sidewalk pests. And you get the job done without saying a word.

Lacoste, enjoying a resurgence in the trendiness department, did something very smart. They've priced their polo shirts well above Ralph Lauren's--$75 versus $65. I believe this partly explains why Lacoste has become popular. Like in so many things, by creating the impression that you are less accessible, you become much more in demand.

That being said, Lacoste can't hold a candle to the persistent acceptability of Ralph Lauren. Lacoste may be hot now. However, the Ralph Lauren polo I bought in 1999 is still in style (and in good condition) today, and the one I bought yesterday will still be good to go in 2009. After a previous surge in the early 1980s, Lacoste vanished from the radar screen. There is no reason to think that won't happen again. The greedy gator may be smart, but smarts aren't the only thing that counts.

For the first time in what has to be three or four years, I listened today to Crash by the Dave Matthews Band. It took awhile to dig it out of the attic, though. (That's figurative, because it's now on my iPod.)

I used to listen to Crash constantly and ultimately burned out, and not just from listening. In my free time, using my Yamaha digital keyboard, I spent hours coming up with piano and strings accompaniments to songs like "Tripping Billies" and "Proudest Monkey." Then, a DMB-obsessed drummer colleague of mine roped me and my guitarist friend Dan into renting out studio space and playing out our own Dave Matthews jam sessions. It was just keyboards, drums and guitar, but with the help of my keyboard's piano and strings sounds, we managed to improvise pretty cool renditions of songs like "Two Step." (In the process, I learned from this colleague a lot about percussion and why Carter Beauford, the DMB drummer, is so technically excellent. I've paid much more attention to percussion in rock and pop songs ever since.)

I noticed things this time around I hadn't before, and with an album you've owned for a long time, that's fascinating. One such aspect is how well the lyrics match the instrumentation, tempo and melody of the songs. For example, the carefree exhortations of "Tripping Billies" match a resounding jam building to just the right level without stretching it. Equally appropriately, the verse harmonies of "So Much to Say" seem to struggle for a declarative resolution.

If Crash falls short on one front, though, it sounds just a little too polished. The band's previous effort, Under the Table and Dreaming, captures a slightly more wholesome, authentic feel to music whose instruments (violin, sax, bass, drums and guitar) demand it. Crash takes away this intangible earthiness just a little too much. Crash is the home that is spotless because it is brand new; Under the Table and Dreaming is clean, but lived in and vibrant. I wish Crash would be re-released with the more authentic sound quality, though DMB's later material--especially the Central Park live album--seem to remove the excess polish.

Crash is an outstanding album and rediscovering it today was rewarding. It's always going to be one of my favorites.

The Grokster End User License Agreement says that any disputes arising therefrom shall be governed by the laws of Nevis. But that didn't stop the U.S. Supreme Court from getting involved and saying the company can be sued for its users' illegal activities.

The decision, available here, was the one I was looking forward to the most. It's the latest in a decade-long debate in technology law about the line between an active provider and a "mere conduit." If you're just a passive conduit along which information travels and activities take place, generally you have less (or no) liability. When you start moving up the spectrum in engagement, encouragement or administration, then you're less passive and more responsible. This decision sensibly (if anticlimactially) says that it all depends on how you encourage or express an intent for people to use your technology.

We had to deal with this problem--with much less legal guidance--at Pipeline, way back in the early days of the Internet frontier, in 1994. We had newsgroups in which users could post commentary and opinions. The issue was whether to remove offensive posts or comments harmful to the company's reputation. (Illegal posts were obviously another matter entirely.) On the basis of that general active/passive paradigm, we figured we would back off any kind of administration. Once you start censoring one post, a failure to censor others becomes a form of approval. So we generally did nothing. That decision seems sensible today, but in 1994, there was almost no legal guidance at all and it was just a good guess.

The one argument I don't buy is that this threatens to stifle innovation. Baloney. Innovation will remain alive and well. And what you do and say should count for something. For starters, you might look a little less suspect if, for disputes arising out of your terms of service, you picked a place other than a sketchy offshore haven.

It's been an odd week on the tech front.

First, on Tuesday, Eudora started acting a little bit strange. Portions of windows would appear over my Firefox browser window. Other windows would not open and close correctly. I closed down Eudora and, when I visited the Eudora Web site, saw that a new version was available. I trashed my older version, rebooted, and downloaded and installed the new version and everything seems fine.

Then on Thursday, when I was in Yahoo! Mail using Firefox, another strange thing happened. Every time I typed an apostrophe, it was interpreted as command-F and whatever I continued typing would appear in a find search box. I finished my email message, writing around the need for any apostrophes, closed down Firefox and started it up again, and everything was fine.

Viruses are a minimal threat to Macs, but just to be safe, I did a virus check yesterday. I saw that the scan basically stalled at a compressed version of a mail file that somehow wound up in my Library directory. So this is why my automatic monthly virus scans were taking forever as my hard drive grinded away, slowing down everything else I had to do. I stopped the scan, threw out the compressed file, restarted the scan, and everything was fine.

Mac OS X automatically checks for other disk problems at startup, but just to be sure, I'll run Disk Utility sometime over the weekend when I am out for a few hours.

What happened? Everyone seems to be calling off their boycott of Disney.

Did it work? Let's see. Since the Southern Baptist boycott of Disney began, the company's value has tripled, and its impact on media and entertainment now dwarfs what it was before. Sure, there's routine conglomerate infighting, but the impact of the boycott? About as much as a stone against a bulldozer.

This country is blessed with a free market. It's nice to know that while politicians may be held hostage by extremists, the pursuit of enterprise never will.

For the first time in 11 years, the NBA Finals has gone to a Game 7. The last time, of course, was when the Knicks lost to the Houston Rockets. In the deciding game, John Starks shot 2 for 18 from the field, including 0 for 11 from three-point range.

Here's a great recap of that series from NBA.com.

Today for lunch, for the first time, I decided to get a sandwich from Balducci's near Lincoln Center.

The roast turkey with guacamole sandwich on seven grain bread was very good. However, I was intrigued by the peculiar Balducci's sandwich price schedule.

As a general rule, pre-made sandwiches should cost less than ones made on demand. There are at least two reasons for this. First, pre-made sandwiches are of marginally lower quality than freshly made ones, so customers should pay less for them. Second, stores should offer a discount on pre-made sandwiches as an incentive to choose them. Then, less labor would be needed to prepare fresh sandwiches, and the store could pass along cost savings to customers in the form of lower prices.

But that's not what happens at Balducci's. There, a pre-made sandwich costs $8.00, while a freshly made one costs $7.50.

The result? There was a somewhat long line of people, not particularly well ordered, though once they started making my sandwich, delivery time was quite acceptable. And the sandwich itself was excellent, if pricey.

The pricing was odd, though. It reminded me of the sign I saw once in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, in front of a t-shirt store: "Sale! One for $12.98. Two for $26."

You have to love the insight of the 14 year-old who would rather play "NBA Live" than watch the real thing on TV. "I like to play [Kobe Bryant] because I can make him pass to the other guys," he says in this great article by Seth Schiesel in today's Times. "When I see him on TV, it's like he doesn't know how to pass."

It's not just a funny comment; it captures the important way in which personal videogaming lets fans overcome narcissistic NBA stars--using likenesses of the players themselves.

This would have been unthinkable when I grew up with my Atari 2600, and not because players' egos were less inflated. Take the Atari baseball game. The first version consisted of four tiny squares on the screen. The bat was a small rectangle. Intellivision broke new ground by actually featuring a baseball diamond; Atari answered with its "RealSports" line, elevating the art of sports video games a little beyond low-resolution pixels.

By the time 1994 rolled around and I had bought Sega Genesis after I finished my college thesis, "NBA Jam" was much better. Attend class, or beat the Pacers? It was often a close call.

Now, apparently, the games are so realistic that they are replacing the real thing instead of promoting it. There's finally a way for a basketball fan to survive in New York City.

One of my favorite things about summer is summer associate stories. There are always a few each year. Life as a summer associate is pretty cool: you're tantalized by three-hour lunches and fun evening events; nobody really expects you to do anything of substance; and the presumption is that you'll get an offer unless you do something stupid.

Like disrobe and jump into the Hudson River, for example.

I was a summer associate at a very nice firm, but we didn't have any characters quite like that. At any rate, this won't be the last great story of 2005--more are sure to come.

I consider myself to be a pretty upbeat and friendly person. People generally catch me in a good mood and, when it comes to just being around, I think I give off a nice vibe.

But there's a trademark dirty look I have, reserved only for the most egregious offenders. I don't actually say anything, but judging from past results, the Look is true Manhattan grade. And I finally had the occasion to use it on Saturday evening at the gym.

The target? Who else? A cell phone yapper. There I was, enjoying my Bruce Hornsby studio playlist to decompress on the cross trainer after a busy (but fun) afternoon, and the person facing me started babbling on a cell phone. The first call was short. Then, after a break of a few minutes, a long and rather irritating conversation started. Even with my aspirations of running a zero-tolerance gym, I generally try to give the person a few minutes' grace time. When the grace period elapsed, it was time for The Look.

But that wasn't the best part. The cell phone yapper, visibly shaken by this Look, had begun ending the call. And then the cell phone yapper turned in another direction, only to be the recipient of an even dirtier look from the woman on the adjacent elliptical trainer. Now completely cornered, the cell phone yapper immediately scurried out of the gym.

Unfortunately, I can't recreate this look on demand; it is a reflexive response to circumstances. Like when cell phone yappers screw around with one of my workouts.

Poor Pathmark. The company was lampooned by Gretchen Morgenson in last Sunday's Times. And now the company is at attempted target of the usual swarm of class action clowns. Why? Because instead of opting for a total buyout offer at $8.75 per share, management chose a 40% investment to accomplish more specific business improvement objectives. The company disclosed the buyout offer in a May 26th SEC filing, but supposedly that's not enough for some people.

Except there's a funny thing about this Pathmark episode. The stock price has remained perfectly steady at a little over $9.

Pathmark management made a business decision that the market was perfectly free to reject. It didn't want to sell the business outright. It just wanted some new cash to improve it. There isn't any law saying a company must sell a business once it gets an offer. A company must only get the best deal (and not necessarily just based on price) once it puts the company up for sale. This hasn't happened. I don't see why certain people are whining, except to be opportunistic.

You don't like Pathmark's decision? Sell your stock. Nobody forced anyone to invest in Pathmark.

The reality is that after all of this news has had time to settle, the stock price hasn't gone down an inch. It's always nice to see the wisdom of crowds win out once again.

Will the real Yankees please stand up? Let's see: we've had an 11-19 start, then they won 17 of 19, then lost 9 of 12, and now have won 5 in a row. Can't they just win, like, 2 of every 3 games consistently?

Meanwhile, Derek Jeter is on. It was great to watch him hit his first grand slam yesterday. He deserves every bit of his success. Why? An example is during Friday night's game against the Cubs. After Hideki Matsui delivered a key base hit to right field, Matsui jogged off the field, replaced by a pinch runner. As Matsui arrived at the dugout steps, Jeter had already rushed to the top of the stairs to meet him and congratulate him on his hit. This is exactly the kind of play you'll never see in a box score, but represents why Jeter is a player of the most elite status.

Way back in the mid '90s, before the dot-com boom changed nearly everything to velvet rope, the Upper West Side had "Frat Row," the nearly continuous strip of grungy bars on Amsterdam Avenue from 79th to 86th Street.

How times have changed. Now the Upper West Side has Vanity Row.

If you insist on only all natural skin treatments, or need to shape your hair for that exact calculated messy look, go no further than to Columbus Avenue between 66th and 72nd Streets. With this week's addition of Clarins, we now have four stores in six blocks featuring high level face, skin and hair care treatments. Clarins joins Aveda at 72nd and Columbus, Kiehl's at 67th and Columbus, and L'Occitane at 70th and Columbus.

I suppose it goes with the demographic around here. I'd rather have this row than that one.

With the onset of summer weather, it's a good time for an update on the low-fat frozen creamy treats market.

Sometime last fall, the Crema Lita on Broadway between 76th and 77th Streets closed. The one on West 72nd Street just east of Broadway is still open. It now prominently features SoHo Cupcakes treats as well. Indeed, the Crema Lita Web site touts this combination as a "match made in heaven," so multiple Crema Lita outlets must feature both kinds of goods.

However, Crema Lita suffered a major symbolic loss when its store in Chelsea, on 8th Avenue and 21st Street, became a Tasti-D-Lite, its competitor. This is like the Citibank on Wall Street becoming a Chase.

Here's a business problem neither company has figured out: if the customer gets a cup with a topping, how do you prevent it from spilling onto the floor? I mean, I don't care if a few of my chocolate chips fall off, but over time, this adds significantly to cleaning and maintenance costs, and tarnishes the overall cleanliness of the store.

Video. Pix. Camera phones. Calendars. Contact management. They've all become part of cell phones. But the real killer app with mobile phone technology (besides, of course, the actual calls) is text messaging.

I never used text messaging before last fall. But then I quickly discovered how useful it is in certain situations. These include 1) waiting for people at a place where you cannot hear a phone call easily, such as an outdoor music festival or crowded nightlife venue, 2) waiting for people at a place where talking on your phone would be rude or annoying, such as at a restaurant, or 3) being stuck somewhere that you cannot talk but want to pass time due to boredom, such as CLE.

It's interesting how with certain waves of technology, what emerges as most popular is among the most simple. We've been presented with any number of personal computing-based Internet technologies over the last ten years. Yet the simple act of transmitting basic text to someone else's PC--known as instant messaging--is still what people seem to use the most.

People love technology, but they also don't want too much nonsense.

It was hot, and now it's cool. But you just have to love what's going on in the weather department--an unusual scenario, and indeed, yet another backdoor cold front.

While hot and humid air built up over the Ohio Valley and Mid-Atlantic states, yet another high pressure bubble developed over southeast Canada. This nudged maritime air southwest, first into Eastern New England, and then finally all the way west through the city into central New Jersey. On Tuesday, we saw highs in the low 90s while Boston shivered in the 50s; on Wednesday, east winds knocked temperatures down here while central New Jersey west of around Morristown stayed in the high 80s.

Now an upper air disturbance is bringing showers to the area and it will be some time before it all dries out with sunny, mild weather.

The particularly neat aspect of this synoptic configuration was the backdoor cold front moving west while a regular cold front moved east. Once they collided over eastern Pennsylvania, the resulting occluded front stalled and now has only very slowly moved east to Long Island.

The computer models, of course, have been hopeless. They just can't digest anomalous features like this, especially so late in the spring. While this is not a signal for any long term pattern this summer, it's incredible how persistent the onshore wind threat has been.

The recent promotion with New York Sports Clubs and McDonald's seems to have worked: over the last few weeks, there has been a noticeable increase in the number of people at the gym who have no idea what they are doing.

I'm not talking about being an expert on using every last barbell and cardio machine. I'm talking about basic protocol. One person insisted on yapping on her cell phone throughout a half-hour cardio workout. Another person removed a weight I was using for the second leg of a superset before asking if he could work in. (My answer was "no" because I was doing consecutive sets, in a more-stern-than-usual tone of voice.) And what's with the people who take up a cardio machine to read books in 5-point font?

The great thing about my gym is that it has no attitude. The person doing chest presses with 150 pounds has no more right to the bench than someone using just the long pole with no weight at all. That's fine. However, New York Sports Clubs puts all its effort into upselling new members to personal training sessions instead of educating them just a little about gym protocol. The result, after its comical joint promotion with McDonald's, is a worse experience for all of its members.

A friend and I are discussing starting a new gym only for people who know what they are doing. It would probably lose money, but we would just subsidize it with other, profitable businesses.

Very happy to see Viacom splitting up, but for now, let's stick to baseball.

Derek Jeter lines a base hit to left field. So what? Well, the great sportscasters will tell you what. And that's what I love about Yankeecaster Jim Kaat.

Kaat, who has an unbelievable knack for packaging sophisticated, intellectual commentary in soothing, pleasant form, explained the failed strategy of the pitcher. The pitcher had gone for Jeter's weakness right away and missed, Kaat explained. When he fell behind 2-0, Jeter knew to look for a better offer, and lined it into left field. Kaat, who knows something about pitching, said that it would have been better to gamble early in the count and go after Jeter's weak spot later.

He explained this in an informative, not pedantic (a la Tim McCarver) or vitriolic (a la Bill Walton) way. (I'm also a big fan of McCarver and Walton, but Kaat has his own distinctive vibe.) And it was nice not to have Michael Kay in the booth at the time. Kay would have derailed this discussion into an endless infusion of statistics. Jim Kaat, like Bob Costas and the master Vin Scully, understands the poetry of baseball.

Today's New York Times article about Coors Field in Denver wasn't really clear about the meteorological factors determining how far a ball travels.

Generally, air is less dense at a higher altitude than at a lower altitude. Therefore, in Denver (elevation 5,280 feet), baseballs will generally travel further. This is the primary cause of the high home run total at Coors Field.

In addition, humid air is less dense than dry air. Therefore, dry air is not at all a contributing cause of home runs at Coors Field. The caption to the photo says that home runs and Coors Field "go together" even though balls are humidified. This isn't a scientifically accurate assessment of cause and effect. Coors Field is a mile above sea level, and that's always going to contribute the most to a high number of home runs.

Recommended reading: The Physics of Baseball by Robert Adair.

HSBC has a great subway ad campaign highlighting the diversity of some of New York's neighborhoods (which is why you need "the world's local bank"). One ad series features Williamsburg. One banner reads "Williamsburg?" and shows a photo of a Hasidic Jew. The other banner reads "Williamsburg?" and shows a photo of an inked hipster. It's very funny.

HSBC should expand this campaign to feature some other neighborhoods. Here are some suggestions:

• "Upper West Side?" (Photo showing struggling actor that hasn't gotten a callback in six years) Then: "Upper West Side?" (Photo showing old lady kvetching at the guy behind the Fairway lox counter because the Eastern Gaspé is too salty)

• "Chelsea?" (Photo showing tank topped circuit boys with Prada messenger bags) Then: "Chelsea?" (Photo showing yuppie couple with stroller who moved to the high rise on 6th and 26th to be part of a "hip" neighborhood)

• "Murray Hill? (Photo showing generic 25 year-old frat boy) Then: "Murray Hill?" (Photo showing generic 25 year-old sorority girl)

Most of the repaving around Lincoln Center seems to be done. With new traffic lines down, it looks pretty good. I've lived in this neighborhood for 10 years and this is the first such repaving I've seen.

Someone seems to have had fun with the intersection of 66th and Broadway. There are so many criss-cross white lines that it looks like a big piece of Rice Chex. Now, all vehicles will know exactly where to stop at a red light, ensuring easy access to the Mister Softee truck.

Welcome to summer. Today was it--temperatures in the 80s with very high humidity (the dewpoint climbed to 75, about as high as it gets around here). An unstable atmosphere brought a thunderstorm in the late afternoon. The pattern may change next week to wetter, cooler conditions but until Tuesday, it's hazy, very warm and humid.

It's nice to be in the city on the weekend. Last summer I was out of town so much. While I have no complaints about my visits to Ogunquit, Quebec City, Vermont, the Berkshires and Montreal, it's been nice to settle in to the summer scene here.

I finally finished The Smartest Guys in the Room, which I wanted to complete before seeing the movie. There are too many unbelievable stories in this fascinating and compelling book to mention here. But I especially loved (in the portion I read today) when Ken Lay of Enron (with his company in complete disarray) insisted on calling the eventually-cancelled acquisition of Enron by Dynegy a "merger of equals." This is one of my favorite aspects of merger ego battles. "Merger of equals" is often misleading and is just used to placate hubris. Just like decisions about locations of corporate headquarters. Now it's back to A Short History of Nearly Everything, of which I finished 2/3 before leaving for Fort Lauderdale in April but left home because I wanted a complete book for that vacation.

It was also a good day to visit air-conditioned Armani Exchange at Time Warner to look for tops. A/X has become one of my go-to venues not only because it is close, but also because their medium-size shirts fit me perfectly so I don't have to try anything on. The floor assistants are extremely aggressive and asked me every five minutes if I needed help. I said no, but didn't want to do so impolitely and thereby discourage good customer service. Then the same person would ask again a few minutes later. I tolerated this minor irritation for the 20 minutes I was there and then left with some functional yet stylish summer gear.

A little late, but here's some commentary on the West Side Stadium.

I hope that when urban policy wonks write their case studies of this episode, they pay attention to the distinctive nature of the New York Jets as a virtually worthless sports franchise.

I think if the Jets are to New York what the Redskins are to Washington, D.C., the stadium has a far better shot. The Jets were never able to tap into what drives so many of these civic pride-based stadium projects: emotion. I think if the Yankees really wanted a new baseball stadium, they'd also have a much better chance.

When the campaign first began, it was for a stadium for the Jets (and the Olympics, but New Yorkers aren't fooled). As the campaign evolved, the focus blurred and started positioning the project as a stadium-and-convention-center. One of the slogans was even "not just a stadium" (or something like that).

And the Jets, while they've had their bad seasons, aren't so bad these days. They went 10-6 last year and had a good playoff run the year before. It's just that this never converts into true local excitement. The Jets have never become New York's, always the orphan, faded by years of generic play, first at Shea and then somewhere out there by the Turnpike across the river. When you think of the typical Jets moment, you don't think of the game-winning touchdown; you think of the fumble on the other team's 5-yard line, squandering the chance to tie.

And who deserves blame for this? The Jets. Who else? The Yankees and Mets know the value of civic pride. Even the Knicks and Rangers, after several dreadful seasons, have more than their share of feel-good charity and community work and are always emphasizing their efforts in this area. All the Jets wanted from the city was a huge handout. The rejection of this request is the biggest game-winning touchdown of all.

I was flipping through channels and found Alton Brown on The Food Network, discussing pudding. One thing I like about Alton and his show, "Good Eats," is that he's a bit of a snob. In today's episode, he sneered at mass market puddings for using "industrial" ingredients and insisted his viewers prepare pudding using the real things.

Then I thought, "This is so much better than 'Unwrapped,' which seems to be one PR ploy after another to make mass-market artificial concoctions have an air of authenticity."

Several minutes later, I flipped back to The Food Network to find "Unwrapped" on. What was "Unwrapped" celebrating? Imitation seafood. Yes, imitation seafood, courtesy of the Louis Kemp PR department. Sure, they called it by its Japanese name to make it sound less ridiculous, but there it was, a full segment showing the wonders of how Louis Kemp makes imitation crab and lobster meat. The Louis Kemp spokesman said that imitation crab meat is becoming popular among people who want something less "intimidating" than seafood. ("Intimidating" may not have been his exact word, but that was the gist of the comment.)

At the end, they said that imitation seafood sales are "highest along the coasts, where fresh seafood is already available." Actually, I've seen this phenomenon--people like to go to places with great seafood, but when push comes to shove, they opt for the lower-grade selection. Last summer in Ogunquit, Maine, famous for its huge selection of fresh seafood, many visitors (not us) opted for less "intimidating" options like fried haddock (or maybe even fried imitiation haddock?).

At any rate, "Unwrapped" has always been annoying for its glorification of substandard fare. Alton's show gets my vote as the one actually discussing food.

I'm in a meeting now.

I am away from the computer.

Zzzzzzzz

brb

What would people do without instant messenger "away" messages? They've become the digital version of the post-it on the door, and their own little vehicles for creative expression. Many people have ventured beyond the functional away message (informing parties simply that they are busy or elsewhere) and now provide snipets of song lyrics or favorite philosophical quotes. One person I know even uses the away message to advertise his blog (which I think is clever, so I've adopted that for one of my own away messages as well).

I have a few away messages I rotate for variety. They're not as funny as some friends' away messages. Of course, the best part of the away message is not humor; it's that it minimizes one of the inefficient aspects of the instant messenger medium. By making clear to your buddies that you're not present, you prevent that annoying suspended state where an initial message awaits a response for an uncertain amount of time.

Time for lunch. brb.

It was good to see Joe Torre shake things up before the Yankees' 12-3 victory in Milwaukee last night. The Yankees are his problem. Joe Torre is one of the finest people in sports, but this season's skids (and last season's collapse against the Red Sox) are primarily attributable to Torre alone.

In an interview this week, Andy Pettitte said that the Yankees will be back because they have so much talent. But with sports teams, it's not just the amount of talent; it's the nature of the talent and how personalities interplay. Joe Torre had a great model from 1996-2000, with a number of budding stars and a healthy dose of unglamorous team contributors. Now it's different. Bernie is in decline; Giambi seems washed up; Kevin Brown is as sturdy as a toothpick. The manager needs to come up with a different motivational formula for this new landscape. That's obviously something Torre didn't do last October, and despite a great winning streak this season, he hasn't done it this year either. Boston's 17-1 drubbing two weeks ago took too much wind out of the sails, setting the Yankees into another hopeless tailspin. It's Torre's job to prevent this from happening.

Cancelling batting practice and sitting down 4 regulars is a good start. Shake things up. Torre should talk to Pat Riley, who always got much more out of his players than expected just from the level of talent. Riley made Patrick Ewing and John Starks competitive against Michael Jordan and the Bulls. I get the sense Torre wouldn't be quite as effective. But the 2005 Yankees are not the 1998 Yankees, and Torre needs to come up with a new recipe for success.

It's the day I look forward to all winter: today, Central Park finally cracked 90 degrees. The high today was 93, although a sea breeze has knocked the temperature back down to 85 in the last hour.

I love the heat. Judging from conversations with friends, I'm in a small minority here. I'd so much rather have a day like today than that day this past winter when I went out for lunch in 17-degree chill. Or the Friday night when a date and I scurried from Penang to Blockbuster against icy 30-mph winds with a temperature of 9. Some people love the crisp autumn chill or even a sunny, cold day. I'd rather see temperatures in the 90s.

I love the way the city slows down and everyone wanders about in a more toned down manner. Yes, the subway platforms can get kind of gross, but I don't take the subway to work. The Lincoln Center area has an especially nice vibe with the park nearby and people out in the plaza next to Juilliard.

And let's face it: summer clothes are more fun to wear. None of this nonsense unraveling Gap-mandated layering while changing before and after the gym. It's in and out, more easily. This aspect may even offset exorbitant Con Ed bills to fund the energy supplier's wasteful advertising campaigns. It was great to go out last night to meet up with a friend with a temperature of 82, knowing that the issue of whether to bring a jacket (much less a hat and scarf) was not even on the table.

On all those days with near zero overnight lows, or icy winds, or heavy snow, or rain and slop with a temperature of 34 and northeast winds of 40 mph, I look forward to a simple summer day with a high in the low 90s.

If we ever get stadium naming rights, I have the songs we definitely want in the rotation. (I don't know if that is typically part of the contract, but I'm going to insist on it.) This playlist, called "Final Countdown," consists of music perfect for any big game (or ride on the elliptical trainer on a 90-degree day after sitting through ethics CLE).

1) "Final Countdown" (Europe)
2) "Right Now" (Van Halen)
3) "Get Off This" (Cracker)
4) "Subdivisions" (Rush)
5) "Livin' on a Prayer" (Bon Jovi)
6) "Epic" (Faith No More)
7) "Don't Stop Believin'" (Journey)
8) "Waiting for the Sunrise" (Richard Marx)
9) "Life Is a Highway" (Tom Cochrane)

Back in November, I posted about a new rollout of enigmatic LensCrafters ads, which neglected to mention cross streets with addresses of locations.

Version 2 of this campaign seems to have been rolled out. Starting a few weeks ago, cross streets were added to the ad copy. Much better.

It's actually one of my favorite things about Manhattan streets: addresses on avenues aren't automatically figured out. In Fort Lauderdale, if something is at 1300 Las Olas, you know it's Las Olas and S.E. 13th Avenue. Many American cities' street addresses work like this. I actually prefer Manhattan's more cryptic scheme; it's more distinctive.

What a great back door cold front today. It's lined up right across the New York metro area, extending north up to around Albany and then just east of the I-87 Northway up to around Montreal. At La Guardia Airport, the temperature is 71 with an east wind. At Newark Airport, it's 88 with a south wind.

New England and New York are prone to back door cold fronts this time of the year because the water is still so cold. If any bubble of high pressure develops over Nova Scotia, it "wants" to expand southwest into New England. Sometimes these cold fronts penetrate all the way down to the NYC area; more often, just areas east of the Connecticut River, especially Boston down through Cape Cod, are affected.

These fronts are called back door cold fronts because weather fronts usually move from west to east in this area. When a cold front comes in from the east or northeast, it's the "wrong" direction, so the term used is "back door."

Temperatures this afternoon will range from 90-95 along and west of the Garden State Parkway in northeastern New Jersey, but hold in the 70s across Long Island and Connecticut.

Back door cold fronts are really cool.

Recently I saw a FreshDirect ad for skirt steak, lime and cumin. That sounded good, so I added cumin to my very limited supply of spices and tried seasoning a burger with it. This was really good--I also added a slice of New York cheddar cheese, green pepper and vine-ripened tomato. It was a hearty burger with a Latin twist.

Speaking of Latin twists, brunch today at Sandia was disappointing. It took 50 minutes for them to prepare three orders of French toast and an omelette. Only a few other tables were also eating at the time. There was clearly a screw-up somewhere and, to the restaurant's credit, the manager gave us a break on the bill. Also, the small starter fruit platter was very good. But we didn't like when we asked the waiter about the status of our order and he proceeded to go behind the bar, not promptly to the kitchen to inquire.

In addition, the French toast entree itself was somewhat puzzling. It was titled guava French toast on the menu; we expected a more integrated dish with guava somehow in the French toast; but instead, it was essentially some kind of thin French toast with some guava paste and strawberries on the side. This isn't necessarily bad and the dish was fine, but we were somewhat confused.

A band, with keyboard, bass and drums, cranked out engaging (if slightly loud) south-of-the-border music. The overall atmosphere was nice enough. We all agreed that while today's brunch experience was marginal, we'd give Sandia a shot for dinner. I suspect the food is probably much better because the entrees provide better opportunity to show off the declared "Latin Asian fusion."

The only good thing about not being able to find your keys while at home: well, at least you know you were able to get home, so they must be somewhere.

Still, precisely this reassurance is what makes the search even more annoying.

(I found them.)

Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries is one of my favorites (and let's face it; I like some of their clothes as well), so I tend to keep an eye on the company. Today the stock surged 12% to $65 a share, apparently on impressive sales numbers, attributed by commentators primarily to denim sales.

But the Motley Fool, while generally on target, gets its analysis completely wrong. The writer, who says he owned ANF stock and sold too soon, says the lesson here is to "have faith in your own intelligence and to trust your own stock-selection capabilities." In fact, that is not at all the lesson.

Over the long term, nobody has shown a consistent ability to gauge an individual company and how its performance is reflected in its stock price. Instead, the lesson here is that with individual stocks, sometimes you're just unlucky and get it wrong. Abercrombie specifically has been up and down significantly over the last several years. Everyone seems to agree it's a fundamentally good business (with a penchant for controversy to boot). But whether its stock trades at $64 or $44? That depends on so many uncontrollable factors, far beyond anyone's "intelligence."

Abercrombie could have easily posted the same kinds of numbers at a slightly different time and its stock could have stayed even or even fallen. If the Motley Fool writer had kept his position, that wouldn't have proven his point; it would have been lucky.

Why guess at all? There are fantastic index funds out there to let you ride the market as it evolves overall.

(I don't have any position in ANF. I do, however, own a couple of polos and pairs of gym shorts.)

The Knicks are down by two and have the in-bound possession. 10 seconds remain and the sellout crowd is screaming. What happens? The Madison Square Garden audio system blasts "Final Countdown" by Europe, one of the all-time great sports-urgency anthems.

I've been putting together a playlist of music like this. While locating a few other similar songs, I noticed a pattern. Let's say you're in the key of C and you play C. Then you play A flat. That particular interval, in that progression, has become something of a sports-urgency trademark, present in a number of sports themes and music used to accompany dramatic sports moments.

For years, when introducing Michael Jordan and company, the Chicago Bulls used "Sirius" by the Alan Parsons Project, an instrumental with the same kind of progression (although it is in another key). In the mid 1990s, Madison Square Garden's music for introducing the Knicks also used that progression. And that song sounded eerily like "Earthbound" by The Rippingtons, another sports-urgency-type instrumental with that same chord progression trademark.

And sure enough, the theme from the Fox baseball game of the week also uses that progression. It's a formula that works and hasn't gotten old.

Of course, the oldest example I know of this progression (in a different key, but the same interval) is Beethoven's Fifth. Maybe that's where it all started.

Forget tunnels from downtown Boston to Logan Airport--the Big Dig is right here at Lincoln Center.

For at least the last week, there has been seemingly endless construction on Broadway and Columbus Avenue, with one detour after another. 66th Street west has been closed at night; parts of Broadway have been closed in both directions; last night, for the second time in the last week, Columbus Avenue was closed between 72nd and 63rd Streets. An army of Con Ed and FDNY trucks appeared yesterday afternoon.

I guess it's amazing that with all of the infrastructure below ground, we don't see this type of extensive repair more often.