a blournal
I had a chipped crown examined this morning. After a lovely greeting from receptionist Olga, Dr. Shekhtmeyster put down her book and took a look at my damaged merchandise. When I told them the problem, they asked when I had undergone the coronation (in so many words). I told them two years ago. Insurance policies […]
Read More Dancin’ in the StreetsThe alien, spiky, not yet stinky, little buds ringing in a bright wind. A brisk transition as it is. Today at 2:00 EST, two mediocre college basketball team face off on CBS. Those teams are Michigan State and Michigan. These teams are so mediocre, New Yorkers would rather watch Oregon and Arizona, abysmal and decent, respectfully, […]
Read More The Brooklyn DifferenceI’ve been thinking a lot about morality, as I do. In the wake of Moby Dick, and in the throes of both Kerouac’s personal journals and Nabokov’s written interviews, I’ve a heap of rich fodder (thanks Gramp, Nate, and stoop). Jackie says: “To me, ‘the thing’ is that Shrouded Stranger I dreamt once. It is […]
Read More Friday PhilosophyIt’s been almost two years since I left LA. This was my second trip to the city of cloudless blue skies and older bookish gentlemen writing screenplays in coffeeshops. Last summer I visited for a week, and returned home with a melody and the line, “It’s the sunshine and the sentiment/somehow at odds and in […]
Read More A Long Weekend in LAWe human beings are inherently cringe-worthy. The multitudes of bigots, zealots, and politicians active today give us plenty of reasons to shake our heads. But there’s nothing quite so pathetic as the way people behave in the warm, glowing light of free stuff. A few weeks back, thirty Park Slope eateries opened their doors to […]
Read More Free StuffBirds and planes float soundlessly overhead. Sirens whoop and wail, headed south. Sunlight zaps holes in fat clouds, bam bam bam – The sun wanes, hangs above the ocean like a phosphorescent blood orange not yet ripe. Angelic fingertips push through the tops of of clouds into the sea, trailing ashen paths of pink and […]
Read More Notes from a Roof in BrooklynThere was perhaps no neighborhood in New York City more deserving of a wake-up tornado than Park Slope. The Slope, notorious for its neurotic mothers, aggressive strollers, and yuppie-grade self-importance, never saw it coming. The storm made a mess of Seventh Avenue, uprooting trees, halving cars, and tossing horseshoe crabs about the sidewalk. New York […]
Read More Tempest in the SlopeWe appreciate that the dairy minded and health authorities print a “sell-by” date on our milk cartons. In New York, there are two dates. The large, later date denotes the day by which the milk should be humanly consumed. The small date falling three to five days earlier on the calendar is titled “In NYC.” […]
Read More Spoiled MilkEverybody gets recognized these days. Secretaries, parents, black people, even the controversial gay. But what about the male nannies of these United States? What about the men of compassion who commit their afternoons to the betterment of childkind? What disqualifies us from a governmental shout-out? Nothing. And that is why, on this week after Labor […]
Read More The Manny DiariesI exited the Massachusetts Turnpike in Westfield, onto route ten, where wooden planks leaned on trees, advertising fresh strawberries and peaches to the occupants of passing cars. To my right, Mount Tom towered above the green pastures and small houses of the Pioneer Valley. My heart fluttered like a hyperactive butterfly at the thought of […]
Read More Return to the Valley
Being Thayer 