Kitchen desks: absolute necessity or absolute waste of space?

So the yahoos at Apartment Therapy ran a post last week that touched a nerve. The post was about kitchen desks, but that's not grand enough so they refer to them as kitchen offices. "We spend lots and lots of time in out kitchens and we're so busy nowadays we'd be lost without being able to run our empire from a super cute kitchen office like this one." I'm paraphrasing but not really.

The gushing was directed toward the desk in the photo above. I suppose that if you're a nine-year-old and your empire consists of a front yard lemonade stand, a desk such as that would be fine. For anyone over the age of nine, it's going to come up pretty short.

I rip out kitchen desks so often it's practically a side line. I rip them out and replace them with something meaningful, like a pantry, because nearly every kitchen desk I've ever encountered was the size of the one above. The current owners can't use it as a desk so it ends up the repository for the junk that has no other place to go. Here are a couple of shots from my Before files.

The owners of those desks would be mortified to see them plastered across the screen like this, but they prove a point. Kitchen desks are a waste of money and space. Besides, who sits at a desk in the kitchen anymore? Am I wrong? Do you have a desk in your kitchen that you use and love? Or is it the junk repository?

Speaking of the New York Public Library...

I quoted my friend Tom the other day when I mentioned the New York Public Library and his description of it as a Beaux Arts pile. I ran a couple of photos of some of the building's ceilings and it occurred to me later that not everybody knows that building. It's an icon, that's for sure and I think the lions in front of it are pretty iconic. What's less seen is the lobby, Astor Hall.  Astor Hall is the largest marble room in the world; even the ceiling is made from white marble. Needless to say it makes me swoon. I never miss an opportunity to stand in that lobby and gaze up in mute appreciation of the stone cutter's art.

Art history for the kids of today

The song doesn't do a whole lot for me but this video's fantastic. Many thanks to the brilliant David Nolan for sending it my way.





70 Million by Hold Your Horses ! from L'Ogre on Vimeo.


I love the René Magritte buried in there!

An encore appearance of "This Is a Scam"

[This ran originally in January '09 and it deserves a second airing]

I'm filing this one under "how-to," as in how to avoid being scammed. I retrieved an e-mail bearing this coupon from my spam filter on Monday and I just want to do a little public service here.

Direct Buy is a scam. Their entire business model preys on the general public's ignorance of commerce to fleece them all the more. If you agree to pay them a several thousand dollar membership fee, they will help you bypass supposedly predatory retail mark ups. But I have a dog in this race, so rather than blow a lot of hot air I'm going to turn this over to the kids at Consumer Reports. To wit:

To evaluate the pitch, we went undercover at two DirectBuy franchises in New York. Both gave us the same hard sell and offers of up to 70 percent off retail prices if we were to join. Only after an hour and a half of sales pitches and video testimonials from members did we learn the membership fee: $4,900 to $4,990 (plus tax) for three years and then $190 a year for seven more. Financing is available at 17.75 percent.

After the fee disclosure, we discovered that we had to sign up on the spot or never come back. We couldn’t bring DirectBuy’s “confidential” prices elsewhere to comparison shop, the representatives said, because this would likely anger retailers who might then retaliate against the manufacturers by refusing to sell their merchandise.

The fine print in the DirectBuy contract says you cannot return items, cancel orders, or terminate your membership. When we asked if, after plunking down $5,000, we could cancel and get a refund, a salesperson said, “You’ll have to check state law.” A review of New York state law revealed that the three-day cooling-off period for canceling contracts wouldn’t apply in this case.

Tacked onto the cost of merchandise—which you select from catalogs since DirectBuy has limited showrooms—are a 6 percent handling fee, shipping fees, and tax. Goods are typically shipped only to your local center, so you might pay additional fees to actually get your new stuff home.

All of this hoopla and added expense so that you can buy stuff at what end up being typical retail prices. Don't believe the hype. Do yourself a favor and study before you make a major purchase or better yet, train yourself to shop for value instead of price. Do all of that yes, but for the love of God, stay away from these people.

A shower head that gives me pause

This is the Sculpture shower head by Vado.

But reminds of a little something by Caravaggio.

Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1597

I can't look at that fixture without thinking about Perseus' run in with Medusa.

Perseus Beheads Medusa, Laurent Honoré Marqueste, 1901

It would be an interesting way to start the day. Just don't look at the shower directly or you'll turn to stone.

Detail from Perseus Beheads Medusa, Laurent Honoré Marqueste, 1901