1-29-09: Sushi and Brooklyn Car Vandals

1.29.09.N.NYC.AM

I took Katya out for Sushi last night. We hit our local spot and ordered a beautiful meal. Three ultra fancy rolls and one old stand by that’s our favorite. I ordered Edamame, Hot Sake and all. Our dish was served in a triangular format over the large white porcelain plate. Each roll was set in slight arcs making the arrangement appear as a negative space between three packed circles, or women’s underwear depending on your state of mind. We enjoyed ourselves very much. It was a D.I.Y. gift from my mother. I still needed to cash the check. Money is tight but I was not allowed to use it on anything other than enjoyment.

Sunday past, the car was smashed into. Ugly. The Driver side mirror, front window, and whole side panels were damaged. Luckily the car was drivable. It ran about 300$ for glass and a mirror, no note. Do people leave notes? “Hey man, sorry, here’s my info.” No. This is Brooklyn, Fuggedaboudit!  Needless to say my mood was in the depths that made things wear down thin between K and I. She is such a great partner and I am thankful to her for all that she does. More so than I may express or that she may realize. A pure at heart champion if you were to ask me. I regret lacking finesse at times of which her sensitivity and romantic heart demand.

The past few days and weeks have been taxing emotionally, financially and otherwise yet we are healthy. The past two evenings were very fun and romantic and we enjoyed our selves. This is addicting. I think we both remembered some of the important things. Love and tenderness. 

Birthday Blues

1.23.09 N. A.M. NYC.

Reflections on Yesterday

It was a relatively normal working day for me. I don't take days off for these sorts of things. Back track. Katya woke up early and prepared an enjoyable meal of biscuits and sausage gravy, OJ and fresh coffee. It was so nice to spend the morning hour with her. We even took the train together. The workday as mentioned was fine. A photography deadline for our March catalogue and lots of incoming property to sort through set a brisk pace for the day. I let out to a few here and there and the word spread. People invest a great deal of energy and excitement into these anniversaries.

Emails between mom and myself contained wonderful moments of truth and reality. By the time she was my age now, she’d already mothered three of us, and undergone knee surgery, endured my brother and his condition, a relatively fresh marriage and so much more. I was thinking of her and a tremendous amount of things that I began sensing were far beyond what I would be capable of dealing with as effectively as she had. She wrote to me that there was no need to compare the two of us in any way. We all are different and confront our challenges in the best ways we can. She expressed a desire to regain some of the strength of her youth but she reminded me and reconfirmed what I’ve been doing here, whom I’m with and how far I’d come. This was not without the emotional charge you could only expect from one’s mother. This dialogue left me with more to reflect on and I was able to slightly enjoy the day more.

For me the birthday is that of being more a mile marker of one’s mortality, the ever-fleeting nature of life and change as we age toward the inevitable truth that waits in the corner of the room patiently. It sometimes or mostly feels like this.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, reminds one of the delicacy and precious precariousness of life which is at its base level borrowed time. A reality that let me enjoy myself last evening at the Blind Tiger Ale House in the West Village. Note: A blind pig, or tiger or any number of other names is an old speak easy code name for a bar.

6:30 P.M. was the marked time for arrival. My friend Aaron from work and I rolled down to the spot arriving real early to a bustling crowd of middle age men. The slow but fun realization of which settled in that this was not just a typical after work bar with a male majority on a weeknight. This became clear with several glances I caught from other patrons. (Train Note: Young woman in cerulean blue tights with red knit leggings knee high, black miniskirt and navy style sailor’s coat with knit beige solid hand mittens Union Sq.)

In short many friends arrived and we proceeded to have a grand evening filled to the brim with beer and then pizza near the Vanguard and further on to Reggio’s cafe which I was less moved by than it’s history. I picked up that tab from our party as a way to thank the crew for coming out in the cold night to play. (Train Note: Black suede boots with grey fur lining fringe. Same woman as before off to class according to her dialogue with her over charged class mate presumably.)

TV? Fuggedaboudit!

6-6-09

Today the Times reports that according to the latest research polls, approximately 10% of the American population is unprepared for the nation wide switch from analog broadcasting to digital on the 12^th of June. The government has spent 2 Billion on aiding Americans with the transition and has employed AmeriCorps, firefighters, and other public services to aid people in converter box installations. They have delayed the switch over four months to aid in the transition but declare there will be no more delay. Pictured in the Times as the cover image for this story they present three Baltimore women hugging inside their home after one of them, a worker, has installed the device as if it saved their lives.

 TV comes up in casual conversation with people the same way books once did in our culture. When I tell people I don’t own a TV many often are shocked with such a notion as to not be able to imagine life without it. An old friend used to refer to it as “the mother box”. This poignantly tells the truth because as an object and lifestyle, it has been deeply imbedded into our collective consciousness raising us for over 60 years.

 Now while TV in its various forms has existed since 1927, it wasn’t until 1947 that Americans could begin purchasing ‘affordable’ sets. It was the postwar boom in manufacturing and disposable income and increase in leisure time that allowed this to happen. In 1962 as much as 90% of American households had a TV set.

You see where this is going. Am I in the loony bin? Are TV’s this important? Can we stop and really examine our lives a minute? I suppose I am one of ‘those’ people who had given up on TV a long time ago for things like life or the occasional public radio show. Sure I’ve enjoyed the occasional endless channel surfing at my girlfriend’s mother’s home but it is a passing interest. The economics of the television are too powerful to contend with unless you flip the switch or toss it out the window.

In fact, I invite my fellow Americans to take their precious TVs and toss the things out their windows on June 12^th and go ride bikes this summer. Maybe even talk to your loved ones or walk your dog. Walk a neighbor’s dog, garden, cook, start a social club, brew beer, read, knit, make art, make love, make pancakes. Do anything but sit on your duff and take in the endless stream of commerce. Paddle your way down a river and take in that stream. Just remember your sunscreen.