Digging through a storage locker on my ranch in Oregon last week, I cracked open an old cardboard box and found plunder. Stuffed in a trash bag was a suit I thought I’d lost forever. I immediately thought of the man who made it, Martin Greenfield. I met Martin in Brooklyn in 2014 after I was given a time and address in East Williamsburg for a “Gotham” fitting. I climbed to the third floor of a rundown warehouse and finding nothing other than some discarded cardboard boxes and a broom lying curiously in the middle of the floor, turned to leave when I heard voices coming from behind a doorway. I followed them and entered a world as mind-blowing as Wonderland. On every wall hung bolts of beautiful fabric in every conceivable color and pattern– tweeds, wools, silks. A man on a phone behind a counter gave me a “one-minute” finger gesture and I turned to study the room. Tucked between reams of cloth, I noticed a series of photographs of a man with a tape measure standing with Presidents Eisenhower, Ford, Nixon, and Obama. A hand tapped my shoulder. I turned and found myself looking at the coolest-dressed octogenarian I’d ever seen. I pointed to the pictures. “That’s you!” I said. He nodded. “Wow,” I said. “I bet there could be an amazing history of American political life told through the eyes of the man who dressed the presidents.” “My story is much deeper than that,” said the man. We stared at each other a few beats and I asked him, “What camp were you in?” “Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen,” he said. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a numeric tattoo. For the next hour and a half, the man told his story of survival. I can’t do it justice here, but please seek out the book “Measure of a Man: From Auschwitz Survivor to Presidents’ Tailor” to read for yourself. Martin and I became friends that day. Before I left, he said, “Please, let me make you a suit. Not for the show, for you.” It’s the suit I’m wearing in the pic with my “Gotham” castmates (and the one I found in a box in a storage locker in Oregon). Martin Greenfield– legend and one of the last of the golden generation. I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of years, but he’s been on my mind a lot lately.
Digging through a storage locker on my ranch in Oregon last week, I cracked open an old cardboard box and found plunder. Stuffed in a trash bag was a suit I thought I’d lost forever. I immediately thought of the man who made it, Martin Greenfield. I met Martin in Brooklyn in 2014 after I was given a time and address in East Williamsburg for a “Gotham” fitting. I climbed to the third floor of a rundown warehouse and finding nothing other than some discarded cardboard boxes and a broom lying curiously in the middle of the floor, turned to leave when I heard voices coming from behind a doorway. I followed them and entered a world as mind-blowing as Wonderland. On every wall hung bolts of beautiful fabric in every conceivable color and pattern– tweeds, wools, silks. A man on a phone behind a counter gave me a “one-minute” finger gesture and I turned to study the room. Tucked between reams of cloth, I noticed a series of photographs of a man with a tape measure standing with Presidents Eisenhower, Ford, Nixon, and Obama. A hand tapped my shoulder. I turned and found myself looking at the coolest-dressed octogenarian I’d ever seen. I pointed to the pictures. “That’s you!” I said. He nodded. “Wow,” I said. “I bet there could be an amazing history of American political life told through the eyes of the man who dressed the presidents.” “My story is much deeper than that,” said the man. We stared at each other a few beats and I asked him, “What camp were you in?” “Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen,” he said. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a numeric tattoo. For the next hour and a half, the man told his story of survival. I can’t do it justice here, but please seek out the book “Measure of a Man: From Auschwitz Survivor to Presidents’ Tailor” to read for yourself. Martin and I became friends that day. Before I left, he said, “Please, let me make you a suit. Not for the show, for you.” It’s the suit I’m wearing in the pic with my “Gotham” castmates (and the one I found in a box in a storage locker in Oregon). Martin Greenfield– legend and one of the last of the golden generation. I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of years, but he’s been on my mind a lot lately.
57 years ago, these two drew breath for the first time in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. After many states, countries, towns, and adventures— a special cheers to the best “wombmate” anyone could ask for. To my selfless twin sis, Deirdre (who is far too groovy to muddle around in the muck of social media). I still get a kick when people say, “You aren’t a redhead!” Really? Got the battle scars to prove it.
Among many highlights working on Law & Order: SVU was getting to hang with Richard Belzer – a phenomenal comedian, actor, and first class human being. Here with Mike Canosa while Richard was telling us stories about living in his adopted (& beloved) south of France. RIP legend.
If you need roofing or AC ductwork work done, hit me up and I just might put a hole in your ceiling. #rookiemove w @mikeyhardaway and @cgroofinginc #124degrees
Went down to my hometown of El Centro, California to see my pops. Hidden behind an old bookshelf was a wall drawing of John and Yoko I did when I was eleven that my dad painted around so he could save it. I don’t know why I stopped drawing, it used to give me so much joy. It was good to be in the desert again.
In the Yard in front of Matthews North, scene of some fantastic times almost 40 years ago with @cbtarver @adambarr5 @coreysayswhat , john freeman, pat barry, and many, many others
From old to new. Redwood planks. Some of the trees these boards were initially milled from were almost 2000 years old. Part of an old aqueduct, Kevin salvaged them and after some cutting and planing, we brought them back to life. There is almost no such thing as wood that can’t be brought back. Thanks to Ian, Kyle, & Johnny. @frisonloguehardwoods @ianfrison @frisontreeservice
From old to new. Redwood planks. Some of the trees these boards were initially milled from were almost 2000 years old. Part of an old aqueduct, Kevin salvaged them and after some cutting and planing, we brought them back to life. There is almost no such thing as wood that can’t be brought back. Thanks to Ian, Kyle, & Johnny. @frisonloguehardwoods @ianfrison @frisontreeservice
From old to new. Redwood planks. Some of the trees these boards were initially milled from were almost 2000 years old. Part of an old aqueduct, Kevin salvaged them and after some cutting and planing, we brought them back to life. There is almost no such thing as wood that can’t be brought back. Thanks to Ian, Kyle, & Johnny. @frisonloguehardwoods @ianfrison @frisontreeservice
As an artist, the unveiling of this statue concerns me. Are the details right? Will it be misconstrued? I take comfort in the fact that the statue is at least using protection. Pic 2 – Hanging in the Square with Brit legend Andy Smiles @smiler02138 and world’s greatest hardcore front man @eriklon2 Kurt Davis AKA Yukki Gipe of @bulletlavoltaofficial
As an artist, the unveiling of this statue concerns me. Are the details right? Will it be misconstrued? I take comfort in the fact that the statue is at least using protection. Pic 2 – Hanging in the Square with Brit legend Andy Smiles @smiler02138 and world’s greatest hardcore front man @eriklon2 Kurt Davis AKA Yukki Gipe of @bulletlavoltaofficial
Milling up some blue-stain pine while @arlowrx gets some sanding done. Loving our @woodmizer mill and slabmizer. It’s a family affair @frisonloguehardwoods. Check out our website frisonloguehardwoods.com
Milling up some blue-stain pine while @arlowrx gets some sanding done. Loving our @woodmizer mill and slabmizer. It’s a family affair @frisonloguehardwoods. Check out our website frisonloguehardwoods.com
Throw back to a lovely moment in my favorite spot of earth- the Gap of Dunloe. Can neither confirm nor deny that my Peterson pipe might have a nice puff piece on Telly in the near future. #pipesmokersofireland
Twelve years ago, in a moment of mid-life what-if?, I decided to enroll in truck driving school. The experience ended up being far richer than I ever imagined. Not only did I pick up a new skill and career, I made a host of friends who altered the trajectory of my life. I was so impressed by my instructors, Bud and Cathy Williams, that we decided to buy a truck (a ‘95 Peterbilt we named “Sadhb”) and started our own over the road trucking company, Aisling. The early days were difficult, but now our company has grown to nine trucks and we have opened three campuses of our own trucking academy, Aisling Truck Academy, in Oregon. When we started the company, Bud said, “Won’t it be cool someday to have a Christmas get together for our employees, their families, and our students, and look around and see how many lives we have changed and supported through our efforts?” I loved Bud’s motivation for why we created the company and the schools. It’s been a great decade since we started with a single truck and it will be fascinating to see how much might change in trucking and transportation in the decades to come (and how much stays the same). Keep the shiny side up!
Twelve years ago, in a moment of mid-life what-if?, I decided to enroll in truck driving school. The experience ended up being far richer than I ever imagined. Not only did I pick up a new skill and career, I made a host of friends who altered the trajectory of my life. I was so impressed by my instructors, Bud and Cathy Williams, that we decided to buy a truck (a ‘95 Peterbilt we named “Sadhb”) and started our own over the road trucking company, Aisling. The early days were difficult, but now our company has grown to nine trucks and we have opened three campuses of our own trucking academy, Aisling Truck Academy, in Oregon. When we started the company, Bud said, “Won’t it be cool someday to have a Christmas get together for our employees, their families, and our students, and look around and see how many lives we have changed and supported through our efforts?” I loved Bud’s motivation for why we created the company and the schools. It’s been a great decade since we started with a single truck and it will be fascinating to see how much might change in trucking and transportation in the decades to come (and how much stays the same). Keep the shiny side up!
Twelve years ago, in a moment of mid-life what-if?, I decided to enroll in truck driving school. The experience ended up being far richer than I ever imagined. Not only did I pick up a new skill and career, I made a host of friends who altered the trajectory of my life. I was so impressed by my instructors, Bud and Cathy Williams, that we decided to buy a truck (a ‘95 Peterbilt we named “Sadhb”) and started our own over the road trucking company, Aisling. The early days were difficult, but now our company has grown to nine trucks and we have opened three campuses of our own trucking academy, Aisling Truck Academy, in Oregon. When we started the company, Bud said, “Won’t it be cool someday to have a Christmas get together for our employees, their families, and our students, and look around and see how many lives we have changed and supported through our efforts?” I loved Bud’s motivation for why we created the company and the schools. It’s been a great decade since we started with a single truck and it will be fascinating to see how much might change in trucking and transportation in the decades to come (and how much stays the same). Keep the shiny side up!
Twelve years ago, in a moment of mid-life what-if?, I decided to enroll in truck driving school. The experience ended up being far richer than I ever imagined. Not only did I pick up a new skill and career, I made a host of friends who altered the trajectory of my life. I was so impressed by my instructors, Bud and Cathy Williams, that we decided to buy a truck (a ‘95 Peterbilt we named “Sadhb”) and started our own over the road trucking company, Aisling. The early days were difficult, but now our company has grown to nine trucks and we have opened three campuses of our own trucking academy, Aisling Truck Academy, in Oregon. When we started the company, Bud said, “Won’t it be cool someday to have a Christmas get together for our employees, their families, and our students, and look around and see how many lives we have changed and supported through our efforts?” I loved Bud’s motivation for why we created the company and the schools. It’s been a great decade since we started with a single truck and it will be fascinating to see how much might change in trucking and transportation in the decades to come (and how much stays the same). Keep the shiny side up!
I’m a terrible photographer, so please try to imagine this photo as if it were taken by someone with skill snapping a nice photograph of the NYC skyline from the Amtrak Acela en route to Boston.
