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We went overboard on cleaning products last weekend.

I first learned of method three years ago, by way of Come Clean, their Crispin-designed promotional site. It was great, but I was not in a specialty-soap-buying place in life. I moved on.

A little older, a few more square feet to clean, a curious dog to consider, we’re finally ready. In a marketplace where advertising can be considered a failure if you don’t click ‘Buy it Now,’ some messages need time to percolate. I could go on, but you get the point, and I’ve got other ground to cover.

The High Line

“The idea of a park on a railbed in the sky can be a little hard to get your head around, especially if your only vantage point is looking up from street level at its rusted, pigeon-shit-scarred underbelly.”

This comes from a fascinating piece in New York Magazine on The High Line, the current West Chelsea eyesore and, apparently, “our generation’s Central Park.” Later this month, we’re going to see Ricky Gervais, as part of The High Line Festival. I had no idea what we were supporting, but I can get on board. Parks are nice.

The Second Coming

My replacement Dwight Schrute bobblehead has arrived. For now, he’ll continue to wear protective covering. And I’m still not sure what to do with Dwight’s beheaded predecessor.

Odds/Ends

• Business Week named Livingston one of The 25 Best Affordable Suburbs in the U.S. The editors could not have chosen a less flattering picture. We may need to move.

• I posted a quiz over at mental_floss today. “Match the Political Scandal to the City it Rocked.” I now realize it’s far too obscure. The average score is 41%. I feel like an unnecessarily difficult, crotchety old teacher.

Looks like we’re out of time.