East Village Idiot

Monkey Mind

2011-11-19T17:06:00.001-05:00

If there was no such thing as a state of Monkey Mind, then surely Buddha would have created it upon my birth. The term Monkey Mind refers to a mind that is highly distracted by multiple thoughts, memories, emotions, sounds....

Who am I kidding? I have far more than one monkey in my mind. I wonder what Buddha would think about a Monkey House mind? Would he just shake his head and throw up his hands? Or would he embrace me with infinite compassion? Probably both.

And so I begin my humble first steps into the realm of the lotus blossom. While I am meditating for a few minutes, please keep an eye on our country. We appear to be in the midst of an emerging social revolution. Back to a more balanced people loving society I hope.

Beach Bleach

2011-08-06T22:36:00.000-04:00

I am in Truro. It is peaceful and beautiful out. After all these years, my routine remains the same.

1. Return to a familiar summer home set back in the woods but close to the beach.

2. Promptly forget what day it is.

3. Promptly forget what time it is.

4. Make a list of all the spiritual cleansing rituals I have in mind.

5. Lose that list shortly after arrival.

6. Bring a list of all the fun things to do between goofing off and sleeping.

7. Complete that list.

8. Do not look at office email....ever.

Perhaps the one part of the vacation ritual that continues to spook me is how I feel for the first two days. Without all the daily responsibilities and distractions of urban life, there is no noise or static between me and my feelings. I find myself face to face with the stress that I function under and it feels like Clorox pumping through my body. It is amazing how out of touch we can become with our true emotional or physical state and then when the tipping point occurs (illness, depression), we're shocked.

I used to laugh at the 70's term "getting in touch with yourself". I'm not laughing so much any more.

ARTFARM

2011-06-26T20:24:00.052-04:00

A few weeks ago, Ben, Brian and I were in our old neighborhood and wandered into the NYC Festival of Young Artists and Leaders. Even the misty drizzle couldn't dampen how wonderful the event was with a variety of stages spanning East 4th Street from First to Second Avenue. There were teen rock bands, poetry readings, dance performances and musicians. There were also lots of tables promoting programs throughout the city for teens interesting in any area of design, visual and performing arts.

I felt sad to be away from this overload of culture. This vibe is a natural setting for Ben. Of course, he and Brian spent a hunk of time at Rivington Guitars which was on the same block as the festival. Ben put his creative talents to work playing a beautiful vintage guitar from what he (and my husband) consider the sacred 1970's. He then attempted to perform the miracle of having my husband buy it. Sorry Ben -- your TONY award will have to wait.

While I was wandering around I caught a performance by ARTFARM . They are an incredible theatrical group out of Middletown, Connecticut that combines performance with a commitment to simple living, social justice and environmental sustainability. They performed Circus for a Fragile Planet - and it was masterfully done. I highly encourage people to invite them to your schools or communities. It is well worth it. Their circus set design and music was out of sight. So simple and yet spectacular in its ability to help the actors and circus performers draw in their audience to examine the most pressing environmental issues of the day in a way that is vibrant and creative.

Ben's summer vacation officially started on Thursday. He has two months of summer fun ahead of him. It will take that long for Brian and I to fully recuperate from seventh grade and to brace ourselves for eighth....

Make a Joyful Noise....

2011-06-19T16:45:00.000-04:00

So you might have noticed that my son's adolescence has been holding me hostage for the last several months. Between the overload of hormones and homework, my husband and I shed tears of joy when the school year finally came to an end on Friday.
Could some kind soul please tell me when adolescence ends? Is it 14? 15? (gulp) 16? I don't know if I have the emotional, physical and needless to say, intellectual stamina to make it through three more years of this.
I am all for an integrated curriculum but having my son do an essay, keynote, video montage and POEM on the interdependent relationship between China and the U.S. as seen through an economic lense is pushing it a little too far.
Thank goodness I now have a garden to escape to on the weekends. Pulling weeds, watering and planting is so satisfying after hand to hand combat with a 13 year old son who is three inches taller than I am.
The above photo is a close up of one of the peonies growing in my garden. Make no mistake, I inherited 80% of these flowers from the past property owners. The white and pink peonies are gorgeous. I think they are the sexiest flowers I've ever seen. They are so voluptuous that their stems buckle under the weight of their round multi-layered bloom. After two weeks or so, they slowly implode and the pedals fall to the ground.

One treasure I share with Ben is driving up to CT on our own to meet his dad at the house. Ben dons his ipod and eventually starts singing in full voice along to music I cannot hear. I love how he feels free enough to sing in front of me in this way. In "real life", he is too shy to sing much. He weaves in and out of a melody, sometimes a bit off tune, lyrics dropped, sometimes the lead singer, sometimes the background. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord....now that's one line in the Bible I agree with.

Enjoy the late spring!

Ghost in the Graveyard

2011-04-19T20:19:00.003-04:00

So what really happens to the thousands of poinsettias produced each year for the winter holidays?

I cannot answer that question. My guess is that a nationwide "poinsettia-cide" is practiced in silent conspiracy across this country. And what leads me to this conclusion? Last November, I purchased several poinsettias for my home. Now that I live in a space that is larger than my beloved east village double-wide on stilts, I have hosted several large holiday gatherings. I was counting on the deep red leaves to distract my guests from the fact that I still had the same sparse amount of furniture as I did in my east village double-wide. The plants made it look like a festive waiting room.

Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went as did the New Year, Martin Luther King Day, Valentines Day, St. Patrick's Day, Ben's Birthday, April Fool's Day, Opening Day for the Red Sox and Palm Sunday. Lo and behold, my two poinsettias are still thriving.

As a child of the 60's weaned on plastic, red dye number 2 and MSG, I just figured they would politely drop dead shortly after their brief use. This is not the case. Observe the picture above. Both plants are still going strong on my window sill. There is no way I have the heart to throw them out. Perhaps I should start a shelter for unwanted poinsettias? People could leave them in unmarked baskets at my doorstep. It sure beats buying more furniture.

What's Cookin - Two weeks ago ,I swore before God and everyone else in the grocery store that I was buying my LAST 16 oz. bag of $7 organic granola. Well, I made good on my promise. The heavens opened up and led me to a recipe for maple granola that is simple and equally delicious as the granola that has been running my family into bankruptcy for the last three years.

Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I am free at last!!

Scientific American

2011-02-07T19:21:00.005-05:00

...that's what I am these days. It has taken forty eight years and finally, I feel an increasing desire to embrace the practical.

Grappling with my soon to be thirteen year old son may be a factor. January was a tough month. For the first time in B's academic life, he earned a series of poor test/quiz grades in each subject over a three week period. One day a 92, the next day a 62 in the same subject. Teachers do not take kindly to this pattern and wrote "what is going on?" across the top of his work.

My husband and I were confused and concerned. B couldn't explain why this pattern was going on. Why he would study some days and not others. He and I had shouting matches, tears and discussions. It hit me that he is now at an age where I can't control his choices or behavior as I did when he was a boy. We were both having to grow up at the same time.

At one point my son said, "You expect me to do well and usually I do. That is a lot of pressure. When I don't do well - the response is even stronger. I don't get a break." Wow. My head was spinning. He saw his performance as something we were greater stakeholders in than he was. As a mom, it was a reality check for me.

B is at an age where his sense of achievement, structure, creativity and curiosity about the world must more and more become his own. He is the bright, free spirited, compassionate boy I hoped he would be. And I need to let him be that in his own way. And his way may be different from something I imagined.

I also realized that my son grew about two inches in January. He looks and acts like a teenager with just a few traces left of his little boyhood. Those hormonal changes also take a toll on behavior and the ability to concentrate.

Luckily, he was able to turn it around and did well at the end of the quarter. Looks like we all figured something out.

What's Cookin': I have been reading a book on food science and it is totally incredible and overwhelming to me. Wow, so this is what is going on behind the recipe direction's curtain!! How do every day people absorb all of these facts? My head is still spinning about the difference between making cookies with butter vs. shortening - and that is just one grain of sand in the desert that is food science! Will I ever know what the heck I am doing in the kitchen?!

"I miss the way you made the bus smell so good in the morning..."

2010-11-06T22:03:00.006-04:00

Those were the parting words of M, a dear East Village friend (artist and fellow parent) that I bumped into one afternoon in November back in my old neighborhood.

Brian and I were shuffling up 1st Avenue after running some errands. I wanted some company as I went investigating my old - new looking - neighborhood.

We stood watching a film of the Cream reunion through the window at Kim's Video. Both of us commented on how Eric Clapton and his bandmates had aged...when who should arrive but our friend M. A few minutes laughing together made it crystal clear just how much WE had aged since our youthful days walking down Avenue A in the 1980's.

It was so invigorating to stand there in the street and chat with M. Just to be with someone who shares that old East Village sensibility. He still goes surfing in the early morning hours at Long Beach. Now his son Harry joins him. Summer or winter - he's out there in the waves, greeting the day.

What's cooler than that?

Snapped the above pic at Rockefeller Center en route to a play in midtown. New York is very good at doing Christmas...high camp.

What's cookin: My sister Liz bought me a huge cookbook for Christmas. James Beard's American Cookery. It's pretty interesing. Keep your fingers crossed as I take on a deviled eggs recipe with smoked salmon.

It's so beautiful, it looks fake....

2010-10-19T21:24:00.003-04:00

When I was a child in the 60's. the title of this post was the highest compliment you could give about something -- sunsets, hairstyles, cereal. You name it.

Tonight I made fish sandwiches for dinner. Fresh flounder dipped in egg/milk and dredged in flour/cornmeal friend until light golden brown. add lettuce, tomato, slice of cheese, homemade tartar sauce, carefully pile it on a bun next to some thick cut fries and sliced cucumbers and you've got dinner in Guyville.

Brian had a long hard day at work. He took one look at his dinner and his heart took flight. He informed me that my dinner should be on the cover of Gourmet magazine for a comfort food issue. I'm not holding my breath.

Truth be told, I've recently found it difficult to feel inspired when I cook. For the last few months, I don't have much of an appetite. Could it be the vitamin D I'm taking in the morning? I've never felt this way before. Cooking (like writing) has always been a creative endeavor for me. In the last year and a half, we gave in to too many hamburger and french fries requests from Ben (made at home or a nearby diner) and tried to ignore his rapidly shrinking food pyramid. My weekly menu hits all the major food groups but I've found myself avoiding more vegetarian based meals (other than pasta with veggies) because I'm too tired to fight the fight with him. That may have been a mistake. How do I dig myself out of it? I need beans in my life.

By the way, I love my black skillet. It is my favorite pan ever and always will be. My Italian grandma had a big black pan just like mine and I worshiped it. It holds a sacred space on my kitchen wall.

The Sun King

2010-10-01T06:03:00.005-04:00

Although I have a working knowledge of world history, I am far from fluent. It's a shame really, because if I knew a bit more about Louis XIV, I would know how to deal with my son Benjamin.

The other night as he lay in bed making one royal pronouncement after another, I alerted him to a startling fact.

Me: "Benjamin, I don't want to shock you but YOU are not Louis XIV and I am not a benevolent old crone wandering around Versailles whose only purpose in life is to do your bidding."

Ben: "I understand Mommy but (fake tears)...life is terrible without my servants!"

Yes, it was a joke but I swear there was more than a thread of truth in those crocodile tears!!

Gratitude

2010-09-22T06:26:00.005-04:00

For the past two months my life has been profoundly sane.

Much of August was spent up in Litchfield County and then a bit of beach time on Cape Cod. Up there is a picture of our favorite beach, Longnook in Truro.

Earlier this month, Ben started seventh grade at the alternative school within his school. He once again has 23 kids to a grade and classes split in half for courses just like his time at St. Lukes School. So far the transition is working out.

Thank you baby Jesus!

I also took time at the end of August to turn 48. My appreciation for nature and peace have deepened significantly in the last year.

People advocate for the slow food movement but there is something to be said for the slow life movement.

Sail Away

2010-08-08T10:58:00.003-04:00

Ben just finished two weeks of sailing camp. The pic above is the view I enjoyed while occasionally watching his rag tag group of beginning sailors bump into each other and periodically capsize. It was important for Ben to go sailing this summer. Important for both of us.

On the last day of camp, he won an award (a sailing school tee shirt) for being the most helpful sailor. This brief two week experience helped navigate my young son a little farther out of the safe harbor and out toward the open sea. The person who proudly handed me his sailing certificate is a tall, shaggy haired, sun freckled teenager. Gulp.

Cooking Comment:
A new addition to my posts because I could sure use the feedback. What do you consider a good dinner party dish to prepare when you have to feed 6 adults and five teenagers?

Jurraisic Jerk with a Side of Slaw

2010-07-24T14:25:00.007-04:00

I have a confession to make.

Over the last year, chicken has become less and less appetizing to me. I still cook it weekly for dinner but a slow ever growing repulsion resides in my tummy.

Why?

Well, one day when I was looking at a live chicken, I realized that chickens look like baby dinosaurs. That thought promptly spiraled into the notion that dinosaurs are related to lizards.

I don't want to eat a lizard OR a baby dinosaur but when I eat chicken I am kind of doing that (give or take a few evolutions across the millenniums).

I shared this culinary crisis with my husband. He looked at me, vaguely smiled and returned to his book. A talent that has kept our marriage afloat for twenty years.

Today I checked out the weekly update on the beloved blog Blue Kitchen. I love the way Terry writes about food and his recipes rock. Please check his blog out - it's listed to the right in my blog roll.

I dove into the archives and read his first post (November 1, 2006). It's a lovely commentary on a dish called Chicken and Wine. In the post, he makes a light hearted reference to the theory that the chicken is a distant relative to the dinosaur. My heart stopped. I then went online to learn more.

The arguments are never ending. But that's a good thing. Because it leaves me with a sliver of hope that the chicken was God's only attempt at intelligent design.

Case closed.

Merging and Purging

2010-07-05T13:15:00.006-04:00

When you move out of the City, you do a lot of driving.

When we moved to Strawberry Fields, I made a point of living right in the village so I could walk to the grocery, bakery, deli, and train station.

But the cold hard reality is that my car is now my bed fellow. And sometimes it feels like I'm waking up to a huge frat boy with Saturn LW1 stamped across his butt and I don't know how I got here. When we lived in the East Village, I never used the car. It was an object that I gladly let my husband take gender control over. Well times have changed. EVI must acclimate to this brave new four wheelin' world as she watches dust gather on her ancient red bike that could out pace the M8 bus as it rumbled across downtown.

For two weeks, I've been dropping Ben off at Rockn'Roll day camp, located in a town about fifteen minutes north of us. This commute involves merging onto a a major highway during rush hour traffic.

I HATE HATE HATE merging into major NYC bound rush hour traffic.

I feel like I'm crashing a party I'm not invited to. I feel like I'm being forced to be intimate with a stranger who may or may not
slow down
speed up
move into another lane

This is not a forgiving group of people. They go this route every day and could do it with their eyes closed (some do). There is no time for chivalry or politeness or hand holding the novice commuter (moi). The only thing that sustains me are the lessons I learned as a college student working for the Motor Vehicle Department one summer.
Most New York drivers:

cannot read
cannot speak English
cannot see

That's gotta put me in the top 50 percentile. Right?

On another note entirely, it seems like a death wave passed over my circle of friends and family in the last few weeks. No relatives passed on but friends of relatives. And the reaction has been interesting. My good friend's sister passed away and he is purging his home of stuff he should have dumped ages ago. My mom's good friend died, now she is purging her home of decades of stuff. It made me take a brutal assessment of my apartment and start tossing too.

Clearing the decks, purging the useless crap that we spent years assigning emotional value to...like the magazine with George Harrison on the cover only the cover got ripped off two years ago in our old apartment and the front page is now page 20.

Purging is useful. As long as you keep the finger down your throat a metaphor.

First Steps

2010-07-02T16:39:00.008-04:00

Last weekend we hosted our first official guest at our home in the woods. His name is Lucas and he is twelve years old.

It was a maiden voyage for both of us. He had never been away from his family for two nights in a row and I had not hosted someone at my home for two days in a row in years. My NYC pad was just too small. We were both a little nervous and a little excited to be taking this first step.

Lucas is Ben's life long friend. They met when they were both about one and crawling all over the playground at Tompkin's Square Park. Lucas and his family moved to Strawberry Fields from the East Village seven years ago but we always kept in touch. Now we are neighbors which is a blessing I am continually grateful for.

Both boys couldn't have been happier. They went hiking, canoeing, shooting off rockets that got stuck in tall trees, swimming and generally goofing off. His parents came to retrieve him on Sunday afternoon.

Several hours earlier a feeling of terror set into my bones.

Okay. Lunch for three children and three adults (my husband had to work that day). This should be no problem. I am actually known to be a pretty decent self taught cook. My husband and son raved about my meals -- as do my friends and family WHEN I BRING FOOD OVER TO THEIR HOUSE. Suddenly I was making a complete meals for more than my three person tribe.

Lucas and his family are vegetarian so I was careful to construct a weekend menu that he would enjoy. By the time I reached Sunday, I was drawing a complete blank. This meal was different. It was for adults. I didn't have the equipment for a quiche and it felt too hot to grill vegetables.

So I made deviled eggs. And a large colorful salad with a bit of pasta thrown in. And french bread and cheese. And watermelon. And ice cream.

Ice cream is undeniable proof of God.

Of course these guests were so kind that they would have happily eaten a bowl of cheerios with no complaint. By the time all the food was set on the table, I exhaled and my anxiety began to fade. It was replaced with the contentment that comes with good friendship and good food.

Fresh From The Bronx!

2010-06-12T15:31:00.006-04:00

...At least that is what the sign said in front of J and G, the Italian deli and market I walked into last week. A statement like that can conjure up a multitude of images. Most New Yorkers know that it's code for crunchy Italian breads, pastries and meats.

Truth be told, I had my doubts about whether this specialty shop could deliver on its promise. One great fear of moving out of the City to just outside of the City was losing easy access to ethnic food. So far, I have been pleasantly surprised.

J and G is in the Chester Heights area of Eastchester/Bronxville. They have got a good guido vibe going on in there. One wall is essentially a tribute to Italian bread. You then wander through a series of tables displaying pyramids made of boxes and bags of semolina pasta of every shape and size. There are many anti pasta items, cheeses and a deli counter that appears to have a heavy cult following.

But what you MUST buy is not in hidden in the pyramids, glass cases or even between two pieces of bread.

There is a small worn out handwritten sign, no bigger than a large index card with "Homemade Sauce $5.99 qt." scribbled across it.

And that my friends, is the reason you go back again and again.

Growing up with an Italian mother and grandmother, tomato sauce is about as personal as breast milk. This is the first time I've ever tasted a sauce that came so incredibly close to hitting the same emotional buttons as the sauce I grew up with.

So I bought six quarts and stuck'em in my freezer. A comforting reserve for those days when I just cannot cope with the thought of making dinner for my family after a grueling day at work.

Nothing like opening a container of instant Italian grandma to sooth a tired soul.

Climbing Mt. Ikea

2010-05-30T11:40:00.008-04:00

I am forty-seven years old. It has taken my entire adulthood to prepare for yesterday morning when I took a deep breath and walked into IKEA.

When you live in a small apartment in NYC, IKEA is commonly used as a sedative to be utilized at various turning points in life. Most common among them are:

1. You've decided to stop sleeping on the floor.

2. You've decided to stop sitting on the floor.

3. You realize that having a table to eat on is a good thing.

4. Jesus Christ, you're pregnant.

5. You live in 450 square feet with a husband, your baby and your dog...you need a miracle or you will shoot yourself.

IKEA has done more to extend the leases of thousands, if not millions, of New Yorkers living in untenable space situations than any act of public policy. So needless to say, I walked into IKEA with a bit of baggage....which is why I went to the IKEA in New Haven, CT.

It would have been far too mind tripping for me to go to Brooklyn. I would see too many versions of my past self, wandering through the aisles anxiously trying to find that miracle piece of furniture that would make it all work out. My space. My marriage. My mommyhood. My career. My dreams. All stuffed into 450 square feet.

IKEA would have driven that girl to tears.

I was on a different mission now. I needed a table. A huge table for the dining space in my little house in the woods. Would it shock you to learn that the dining room table I bought is as long as my bedroom in the East Village and just as cheap? There is enough surface area to reenact the Last Supper if necessary. We even bought chairs that were so light and inexpensive that I am wondering if they can endure the weight of an average human being....well, average American human being (add 20 pounds to the early calculation).

Will report back.

Poor People Migrating to Suburbs

2010-05-18T20:47:00.002-04:00

So I have been reading more and more about how all the white people with money are taking over all of the cities and that everyone is being pushed out into the suburbs.

This news gives me great hope. That means that the counter culture and emerging art communities will continue to do the same.

Is it possible to think that I will one day be surrounded by my beloved East Village hodge podge again? Why not? Hell, it's a free country.

I wish the entire NYC gay community would take over Westchester County...or at least Tarrytown.

Spring Cleaning

2010-05-01T17:10:00.002-04:00

Last night I went for a short walk. It was dark and I took a stroll down roads that wrapped around the perimeter of the village center I now live in. It's a switch to feel perfectly safe walking in darkness. I closed my eyes and inhaled the sweet fragrant smell of springtime.

Smelling springtime at night is heavenly. There are no flowers or sunshine to compete with. The cars and sounds of day have subsided. All that's left is darkness and fragrance with an occasional rustling of the leaves on the trees. I crossed paths with three bunny rabbits on this walk. They must all get together at night and do gymnastics on front lawns.

Which brings me to the subject of needing a housekeeper. I have never had one in my entire life. I grew up with lots of siblings and extended family in the City. All of us jammed into a small apartment building. No one was ever brought in to clean anything. It's weird to think of a stranger in my house doing the things that I feel that my husband, my son and I responsible for.

I discovered that I am the only woman in my entire department that does not have someone come in to clean on a routine basis. They are shocked that me...their boss...is foreign to this world. And yet. I cannot keep up with my household. It's usually in a shambles unless we have company coming over. It's a bad example to Ben.

My search for a maid begins.

Exhibit A

2010-04-11T22:21:00.003-04:00

If you examine this photo closely, you will see a few of the Easter specials available at the gourmet market near my mom in law's home in North Carolina.

We have before us the Holy Trinity of Meringue Pies, Pecan Pies and Chocolate Fudge Pies.

It is my firm belief that if someone had placed a slice of each pie outside the grave of Jesus, we'd be celebrating Easter on Saturday rather than Sunday. Especially if you threw in a nice hot cup of coffee.

Speaking of God...let's encourage that Higher Power to bring our troops home. They could all use a cup of coffee and a slice of pie.

Peace to all -

Country Roads

2010-04-09T22:09:00.003-04:00

Last week we went to visit Brian's mom. She lives in North Carolina. I think North Carolina is beautiful and this trip confirmed once again that there is nothing like the South in the springtime. The air is heavy with the fragrance of blossoming flowers and trees. The weather is warm but not too warm yet. And the days pass in a much slower pace from the madness of NY.

If Southern cuisine was a person it would be a very beautiful drag queen. I loved spending part of each day of my visit strolling the aisles of Fresh Market. It was Easter week and there were towers of cinnamon pecan rolls. Cinnamon pecan rolls are absolute proof of God.

Southerners have no guilt or denial about their relationship with sugar. It's passionate love and you see it everywhere....like coca cola cake.

We once again went to the Pick N' Pig in Carthage, North Carolina. Loved it like we knew we would, then turned around and went back two days later. When people in NC make pork bbq they cook it up, remove all fat and serve it with sauce on the side...as a relative through marriage nicely phrased it "I know that you northerners like to put bbq sauce on meat while it's cooking and we just don't do that here..." I'm with them!

Lots of grits, lots of biscuits, lots of yummy. We drove home avoiding 95North and drove through the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. If you are looking for heaven, that's where you can find it.

I"ll jump..I swear!

2010-03-26T23:37:00.003-04:00

So I'm walking down 9th street a few weekends ago and I lifted my head to take in the warm sunshine that was gracing NYC that day. Suddenly, the sun is blocked by a row of SUV's perched on a roof ready to commit suicide.

Please - we take it back - hybrids have not signed your death certificate. Now please step away from the ledge!!!

Dazed and Confused

2010-03-24T00:03:00.002-04:00

I have a confession to make. I have no friggin idea what the hell my gmail password is. Every time I log in, I swear that I take a stab at one of three passwords...and they are different every time. And they all work.

Is that allowed? Or am I just hallucinating? At first it really bothered me. Now I just offer it up to the gods and say "whatever" as I am once again logged in.

I got a swedish massage the other day at the Open Center in NYC. It was okay but not great. I missed my Spanish deep tissue massage guy. He borders on making the session an S & M ritual ...his motto being "sometimes a little pain in the right place can be a very good thing."

There's truth in those words.

Brian and Company

2010-03-07T07:35:00.002-05:00

Granted, this photo is a few weeks old. What I would summarize as a snow hurricane swept through New York and left a TON of fluffy snow on Strawberry Fields. We live next to a park in the village center, so Brian, Ben and I marched into the snow and began our snow sculpting. It was still snowing and no one else was out yet except a few people en route to the post office.

My snow person was a bit more like a snow bear....a mutant snow bear. Ben choose to put his skills to military use and build a snow fort. I'd say Brian got it just about perfect with the fellow next to him. Well done!

Snow Alert

2010-02-04T22:34:00.003-05:00

How can Virginia stand another snow storm? Thought I heard the news say that some parts of that state should expect one to two feet.

Insane.

Brian drove down to Annapolis this afternoon. He needs to be there when the movers arrive tomorrow morning. They'll be picking up a small collection of furniture we are taking from his dad's old house. This is Brian's last trip down there. The last trip for any of us. The house is sold and his dad's wife is moving back to St. Louis.

Brian doesn't notice that on these last trips down there, he always packs the shirt he wore the day his dad passed away. He was with him.

I watched as he packed it again today. The mind is a curious thing.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the snow doesn't hit Maryland until he is well on the road to NYC.

And so we begin....

2010-01-04T00:26:00.003-05:00

I should be asleep. My holiday ended twenty six minutes ago.

The day after Christmas, we packed up and trucked up to Litchfield County, CT. Good friends of ours have a country house there that we stay at while they are away for the holiday. It is nestled in a beautiful wooded area next to a big stream and a huge hill.

On New Year's Eve, we joined a bunch of friends from the City who also stay up there for a big dinner party. It amazes me how my beautiful friend V can feed 15 people a glorious sit down dinner without breaking into a sweat. I would like to join the ranks of this rarefied group.

On New Years Day, I went for a walk down the snowy country road by the house. The stream follows the road -- and it was just the two of us. Going out for a winter walk is so invigorating. You can't help but feel hopeful about the new year ahead.

In my next post, I will discuss my latest obsession with slow cookers...and why I must have one.

Dear 2009,

2009-12-31T08:54:00.003-05:00

How can I say this politely? Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out!

2010? You're looking great with or without my reading glasses on.

Looking forward to a New Year filled with good health for all, laughter in unlimited supply, time with friends, more cooking, more writing, more love....

and much more PEACE.

Cheers to all my blog friends!

love, EVI

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night...

2009-12-29T23:56:00.005-05:00

I hope that everyone reading this post has enjoyed a peaceful and relaxing holiday. It's taken me 47 years to figure out how to do it but we've arrived.

We began Christmas Eve at the Christmas pageant at St. Luke's Church - Ben's old school chapel and my church. Was it only four years ago that Ben was one of the "we-three-kings"? It was a crisp night. The streets were wet with the fading signs of snow and drizzle that made the lights of the City glisten even more.

New York is good at making its way through the winter. And fabulous at Christmas.

We then ventured onward from the West Village to Chelsea to the home of my dear friends L and C. Each Christmas Eve, they throw a wonderful gathering for their neighborhood friends that includes the best Tex-Mex food I've ever had. It is so great to be at a party with people of all ages and walks of life. It felt like the City at its best.

After we said our goodbyes, I stepped outside and looked up to see the nearby Empire State Building in all its Christmas glory looking down on me. It felt like the embrace of an old friend. My first Christmas gift -- and it was a beauty.

We got home at midnight and fell fast asleep...even Santa couldn't wake us up.

Christmas in the City

2009-12-19T21:10:00.002-05:00

I've been running in and out of the City for the last few days. It is such a comfort to pass through Grand Central Terminal. You can't help but linger at one of the Christmas Fair stalls, small stores or stop by one of the eateries on the bottom floor.

I feel so at home at Grand Central. As a landmark, it holds a special place in the heart of the City. There is so much to explore, so many beautiful details in its design. Everything is bathed in a golden light that can feel quite soothing as your hectic day begins or ends.

During the holidays, music plays across the grand hall of the terminal with a colorful laser show projected across the ceiling. It's corny and festive at the same time.

It's a special place. I love it.

Arlington

2009-12-13T05:46:00.004-05:00

My father-in-law died on September 14th but his funeral and reception were held yesterday at Arlington Cemetery.

Between the elderly World War II vets and active military dying in Iraq and Afghanistan, there are about 30 funerals a day there. After you fill out the paper work they let you know the earliest date available for the service.

It was a beautiful event. My husband and son made eloquent remarks at the service although Ben began choking on his tears half way through. I was very proud of my husband Brian. He spoke with grace and thoughtfulness.

Afterward six gray horses ridden by soldiers pulled the caisson that carried the single coffin to the burial site. Military officers involved in the ceremony march behind with family members following.

They remove the flag and fold it in an elaborate ritual then presented it to my step mother in law. After the twenty one gun salute they play Taps. Some closing prayers were made and the ceremony came to an end.

It was a tough weekend. The house was officially sold two weeks ago and his widow will be moving back to Missouri in a few months to live near her two sons in St. Louis. Not having a place to go back to is hard for Brian and Ben. It feels like his father died and every sign of him was wiped away...at least it feels that way now.

Man in the Mirror

2009-11-28T20:23:00.002-05:00

I just spent the day in the East Village. Man - what the hell has happened? It's like Chelsea with pull-ups on?!

New York ‘Loses Its Edge’

London Times columnist Stefanie Marsh suggested Manhattan has finally embraced middle American values this week, and concluded that ‘New York has lost its edge’.

The British culture critic suggested many of the city’s creative types have long opted for Berlin and London leaving bankers living in ‘shiny faceless luxury condos’ and buying US$700 Ramones T shirts from ‘super-high end boutiques’ built out of the detritus of CBGBs.

On a brighter note she noted that Manhattan’s financiers are nowadays regarded as ‘some of the most reviled people on earth’ with some clubs actively cancelling annual corporate memberships.

“We want to distance ourselves from bankers, even if they helped to set us up in the first place,” one (anonymous) club promoter told the Times, “They’re pariahs. Money is just not cool any more.”

The article appeared just as the New York Times revealed that thousands of the America’s artists have earned less in the last 12 months with almost one in five (18%) seeing their income drop by 50% between 2008 and 2009.

5,300 musicians, architects, writers and filmmakers responded to a survey commissioned by arts organization Leveraging Investments in Creativity, which also revealed that almost all artists (94%) earned less than US$80,000, despite many having college degrees.

“A lot of the artists who were reporting were telling us, ‘I live in a recession all the time, so this downturn has really not been so different for me,’ ” study chief Judilee Reed told the New York Times.

Brit in Amsterdam techno legend Dave Clarke flew into New York this week for the first time in a while and revealed he was disappointed with the City in a typical blunt Twitter post.

“In the words of Blake Baxter "New York . . .What Happened?",” Dave quizzed.

“Someone tell me where did the scene in NY go? Don't blame the Mayor please,” he added.

True Believer

2009-11-26T23:03:00.003-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!!

After years of trial and error, I have learned that the way to navigate a happy Thanksgiving meal to focus on the food and the gratitude.

Try hard to leave the politics, the religion, the past and the future at the door. I reflected quite a bit on the all of the Americans who are far far from home and trying to stay alive in Iraq and Afghanistan.

These people need to come home to their families. Let's send out a collective peace vibe.

And now for my turkey manifesto....

There is no better way to prepare a turkey than to brine it. Seriously, folks - it is wonderful every time. I use the recipe you can find on the Yankee Magazine homepage. Check it out - you won't regret it!

Wishing the world peace and peace of mind as we enter into the holiday season.

Jive Turkey

2009-11-18T08:09:00.003-05:00

Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I'm just not into it. Too much has gone on in the last few months. People passing away, moving, new school for Ben, Ben being sad. And yet, we are all in good health, we have good jobs and a nice home large enough to hold all of our books, artwork and instruments. As a mom, it's important for me to set a tone of holiday excitement.

I wish Snoopy was real.

East Village Revisited

2009-11-16T20:21:00.002-05:00

I went in to get my hair cut at Swing yesterday (East 10th between 1st Avenue and Avenue A). Luis is great. He and his wife run the business and it is simple, eco-friendly and welcoming. It's nice to know that the hair color I get every other month won't be making my boobs fall off twenty years from now.

It was nice to see all the familiar merchants on my block. I miss them.

Mr. Met!

2009-11-01T18:29:00.007-05:00

I would like to tell you that I lovingly made this Mr. Met head by hand but that would be a TOTAL LIE. My husband made it for Ben for Halloween with all the determination and care of Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel.

I must confess that I had very serious doubts that this project could be pulled off in seven days. Fortunately Brian has a good dose of midwest tenacity in his veins. Unlike me, a hard core New Yorker, who would have said "screw it" within the first 48 hours.

Obstacle Illusions

2009-10-07T22:39:00.005-04:00

The last three months have been one earthquake after another with little time for truly setting up home and nesting. That is what we plan to do until the year ends.

I have been in Strawberry Fields for about five months. Here is my assessment. I love being in the fresh(er) air even though I am just 25 minutes outside of the Big Apple. I love the relationship I am building with the Hudson River and Connecticut. I love the quiet and the sounds of nature during all hours of the day and night. I love how much easier life feels since I have stepped away from the frenetic pace I kept in my old neighborhood. I love my calm ten minute commute to and from work.

And yet there is this funny tape loop going on in my head that cannot be silenced....
"this place would be so great if there were no people in it."...or at least less of the people I see.

With a full career and family triage, I haven't ventured out to meet new people. But the times I have been in group settings leaves me totally disinterested. Maybe I'm just getting old and can't be bothered since I already have a big basket of buddies. Maybe I am just enjoying the anonymity too much. It is liberating.

Yesterday night Ben shared a description of an "obstacle illusion" he was just busting to tell us about. I now accept that term into my everyday vernacular.

Narragansett Beer - Nectar of the Gawds

2009-09-30T21:05:00.006-04:00

My husband does not lose much sleep over brand loyalty of any kind. For reasons of politics and gender, he cannot be bothered. Unless, of course, you are talking about beer.

Brian's love, loyalty and pure devotion to Narragansett Beer began in his Rhode Island youth in 1970's. It was associated with the Red Sox and Paw Sox. And it was a working man's beer that was highly visible in the Providence area - a city he still holds great affection for.

Naragansett is a local beer with modest distribution and even more modest marketing strategies. It is not available in NYC. When we go to the Cape for the summer, my husband drinks it like mother's milk....only it is much easier to find a nursing mother on the Cape than a bottle of Narragansett.

He was leaving work in Connecticut a few weeks ago and nearly drove off the road when he saw signs of Narragansett beer available at a small package store.

I am sure that my husband was hugging the six pack he purchased like he was cradling the baby Jesus. The proprietor immediately picked up on the spiritual bond and offered to order cases for Brian whenever he wanted.

Brian has experienced so much grief lately. I would like to believe that an angel guided him to that package store and to the beer that reminds him of happier days when the Red Sox were the only thing that could break his heart.

Cheers.

Gone

2009-09-21T22:50:00.002-04:00

This blog is becoming an obituary.

Right after midnight on September 14th, my husband's father died of a hematoma. He had just successfully finished his first round of radiation and chemo for advanced prostate cancer. He fell over Labor Day weekend and hit his head, refusing to sit in an emergency room for twelve hours "to get a band aid".

By the following Wednesday, he was disoriented and they rushed him into the ER. The first brain procedure worked. The second brain procedure didn't. My husband rushed down and never left his side in the ICU for three days and nights other than to eat or get coffee. My son and I joined him on Sunday after it seemed likely that he may not ever become conscious. Ultimately, all the tubes were removed and he passed away peacefully about twelve hours later with family surrounding him.

Being with someone when they are dying is like being with someone when they are giving birth. It's an extraordinary deliverance. A mystery. Most important, it's an honor to be with them as they enter into God's loving embrace.

Mountain HIgh

2009-09-05T16:57:00.002-04:00

Up in Litchfield County, Connecticut on this long sunny weekend.

This place is a tonic for us. Everything is green, lush and beautiful. The Housatonic River is running higher than last summer. Driving along the waterside, you see a sprinkling of fly fishermen (and fisherwomen!) wading into the sunny center of the water with their graceful rods and lines in hand.

We choose to stay on land and hike up a small mountain in Cornwall. Nothing like hiking up a mountain to get a sense of just how out of shape you are! The three of us huffed and puffed. There were tears, laughter, much whining and ultimately a sense of pride as we got to the top ridge without killing each other. It was an amazing view of the hills surrounding us and a bit funny to be so high up that hawks were flying just 30 feet above our heads.

We needed to climb that mountain today and I'm glad we did.

It's Ellen-eve Once Again!!

2009-08-27T21:58:00.005-04:00

Yes folks, Ellen-eve is upon us. The cool summer evening just before my birthday. A time for reflection and gratitude. Also a time for resolutions for the new year.

Well, I did realize a few big resolutions. I left my job for a more peaceful and low key environment. With the economic downturn, it is difficult to find any college/university that is experiencing peace and tranquility but where I'm at is pretty good overall.

I moved to Strawberry Fields and into a real life apartment...which we continue to acclimate to. Ben still has his mattress in our room. His bedroom is just too darn far away for his liking.

Now I have to sit down and figure out what my hopes, wishes and dreams are for the approaching year.

I have decided however that this year's theme is:

Sacajawea!

More to come. And I wish all of you a wonderful Ellen-eve, filled with good health and happiness!!

EVI - Back on the Block

2009-08-20T16:44:00.002-04:00

I'm not sure if any of my beloved fellow bloggers are still checking in with ole EVI. If so, just want to apologize for my extended absence.

July was a very rough month that included a major move, a sudden and sad death and major let down. Right now we are enjoying the final days of a few weeks in Truro (Cape Cod).

Promise not to bore you to tears when I get back on Sunday.

Hoping you are all in good health and good spirits. Look forward to reading up on your blogs.

XO EVI

Strawberry Fields

2009-07-07T20:41:00.003-04:00

Well, we are almost moved in.

You can't see the East Village from our windows, that's for sure. For the purposes of my blog and my soul, I will now refer to my new outer city location as Strawberry Fields. It's fitting on so many levels...as I will come to explain over time.

God is good -- we live below someone who plays a large grand piano and they play beautifully -- even when they screw up and play the same line over and over again. Our windows are open and the music simply floats in.

Let Your Freak Flag Fly!! Happy Birthday America!

2009-07-04T11:01:00.001-04:00

Obama's Speech in Cairo, June 4, 2009

2009-06-04T21:11:00.002-04:00

This morning I was making breakfast for my family while listening to Obama's speech live from Cairo. At first, I went about my chores partially focused on his words. As the speech progressed, I found myself standing still and just listening to the radio. What a powerful and moving speech.

When I returned home from work today, I watched it on youtube and took it all in again. I can't explain how moved I was to hear our leader speaking so thoughtfully and respectfully to the Arab world. I have a good number of Arab/Iranian and Muslim friends and acquaintances. Living in this country can be very painful for them -- even though they are as American as I am. Obama's remarks started a healing process we haven't known since 9/11. Salam.

Fallen Hero

2009-05-31T22:52:00.002-04:00

US Attorney General Eric Holder is dispatching US Marshals to protect abortion clinic and doctors around the country.

Holder issued the following statement:

The murder of Doctor George Tiller is an abhorrent act of violence, and his family is in our thoughts and prayers at this tragic moment. Federal law enforcement is coordinating with local law enforcement officials in Kansas on the investigation of this crime, and I have directed the United States Marshals Service to offer protection to other appropriate people and facilities around the nation. The Department of Justice will work to bring the perpetrator of this crime to justice. As a precautionary measure, we will also take appropriate steps to help prevent any related acts of violence from occurring.

Prop 8

2009-05-26T19:52:00.003-04:00

Tears came to my eyes today as I learned that Prop 8 in California was upheld by the State Supreme Court.

Once again, same sex couples, their families and their precious children were relegated to being second class citizens.

Everyone in this country is entitled to equal opportunity for human dignity.

Jesus would agree.

You Are Welcome

2009-05-17T06:03:00.003-04:00

Last week I had a lovely Mom's Day. My husband and son were much nicer than I deserved. It was a perfect spring day. They took me out to breakfast and presented me with a certificate for a massage at the Open Center. We watched Ben play baseball in the West Village and had lunch at the White Horse Tavern. It was truly a lovely day.

Friends congratulated me on my fine treatment and I responded with gratitude and praise for my beloved family.

I kinda left out the part that being nice to me on Mom's Day is akin to leaving symbolic offerings on the edge of a live volcano and that my husband is well aware of this unspoken fact.

Being a mom is hard work. It's easy to feel invisible because in a sense, you are as fundamental to the life of your family as a major utility. One day last year, a slight change in the details of a holiday led to one of the most memorable gifts of my mommyhood.

It was Easter and I was extremely burned out and depressed at my old job. It was all I could do to throw together Easter baskets for Ben and Brian -- a ritual I usually perform with relish. When Ben woke up and found his basket, he looked a bit confused. There was no small stuffed Snoopy to be found. I apologized and admitted my surprise that he noticed. He then went on to describe in minute detail the contents of every Easter basket I ever gave him and our routines for other holidays. Tears of amazement came rolling down my cheeks.

Jesus,,, they really do notice!

I hope all the hard working moms out there had a wonderful Mother's Day. Cheers to you! And cheers to the kid who spray painted the Mother's Day greeting on the 9th Street sidewalk that I have posted above. I walk by it everyday and smile.

Hail Caesar!

2009-05-03T14:44:00.002-04:00

Ben just returned on Friday from a three day environmental learning adventure with his fifth grade class. He fretted about this trip for months. Ben has never been away from us for more than an evening and even then it is usually with his local grandparents.

He was quite teary eyed as he loaded onto the bus. And naturally Brian and I felt like we were playing out a scene in Sophie's Choice. Yes, I missed him very much but more than that I wanted him to be happy and free in this new experience.

Well, Ben returned on Friday afternoon and it is no exaggeration to say that I was looking at a boy who'd taken a big step into tweenhood. He was a smiling, smelly mess as he swaggered into the car with his muddy hiking boots on. He said "Mom, I loved the camp we were at. It was so much fun and you know, I didn't miss you and Daddy like I thought I would. It was okay."

Hallelujah!

I just returned from Nino's where I took Ben and his friend Roland to chomp on pizza. Unfortunately, I had to drag them to Russo's for some Italian dinner items and Commodities for some organic food stuff. They both bravely walked along side me in the rain sans an umbrella. Bad Mommy! I was struck by their twenty minute conversation about Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece - they spoke with the authority of two young gods looking down from Mt. Olympus laughing sadly at those pathetic humans.

By the time we reached the doorstep, I was ready to give them both the Mighty Dork award. I gave them cookies instead.

So Here I Sit in My Big Ass Apartment-To-Be.....

2009-04-25T22:01:00.004-04:00

I'm glad we started renting this place in March and OCCASIONALLY sleep here on a weekend night because otherwise I would be in friggin culture and sensory shock when the full move happened.

I am sitting in my bedroom-to-be with three large windows open and it is perfectly quiet except for the cars passing by periodically. My husband and son are playing guitar in the living room-to-be. I can't see them and I hear them...at a distance.

This is so odd and scary. To call their names and to not be heard immediately.

Toto -- we're not in the East Village anymore. At least not tonight. My bedroom has a bathroom attached to it. What am I doing with two bathrooms? Maybe I should sublet one.

My dog Saki is staying close by me and wondering where the hell we are too.

My bedroom window faces the side of a beautiful stone church. Who in this town is a friggin Baptist? I can assure you, I'll be doing some research into that question as soon as I'm settled in during the Fall.

Please God -- let me know that we're doing the right thing living here for three years....not that I'm already counting.

Times Square Dress Rehearsal

2009-04-04T22:51:00.005-04:00

Last night I went to see the Broadway play Impressionism starring Jeremy Irons and Joan Allen.
Many critics had mixed reviews but I loved it. My friend Mike G. joined me for what turned out to be a perfect evening. Mike G. and I have known each other since I returned to New York many moons ago. We met at work and became fast friends.

He lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn and he spends a lot of time telling me that it is only a 30 minute trip from my place to his place. I enjoy laughing robustly at this tall tale. People in Brooklyn love to tell you that it only takes 15/20/25/30 (FILL IN) minutes to get to the East Village.

And it is always a fantasy.

Other than that, Mike G. is pretty much a perfectly fabulous and loving friend. He teaches seventh grade at a tough Brooklyn middle school and enriches a lot of lives every day with his creativity and humor. He is cute, smart and dives into all New York City has to offer. Of course, I will not rest until he finds a wonderful guy and I dance at his wedding.

Both of us have crazy schedules but we try to carve out time every couple of months to get together. We decided a while ago that we are committed to signing up at the same assisted living facility and enjoy rehearsing the things that we'll be doing when we are 85 and the mini bus drops us off in the City to have a few hours of fun.

Before the play, we decided to go to the MOST RIDICULOUS BAR/LOUNGE WE COULD THINK OF AND AGREED ON A CAMPY SPOT PLANTED RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF TIMES SQUARE.

Yes, it was a risk. But when you are rehearsing your life as an assisted living day tripper, you laugh in the face of risk.

The campy crazy bar/lounge was GREAT. We laughed and had a ball, lingering far too long over our drinks. Mike G. made me swear I would keep the location a secret or it would get overrun with even MORE tourists and freaky locals (like us). Luckily, we slipped into the theater a few precious minutes before the curtain went up.

Afterwards, the clock struck 10 and being the nice Catholic boy that he is, Mike G. escorted me to the subway since EVI was pooped after a long work day. Not so for my beloved Mike G. - the night was still young with lots of the Big Apple left to bite.

Little Potato

2009-03-29T23:19:00.002-04:00

March was a much more reflective month than it usually is. In the last eleven years, I've been dedicated to producing what seemed like week long festivals in honor of Ben's birthdays. Now he is eleven and big parties are being replaced by a special gift or overnight excursion. I can see that bittersweet look in his eyes as he watches his little boyhood slip through his fingertips. He still wants to want those experiences - the pageantry of balloons, a noisy crowd of kids, too many gifts and too many sweets. Tweenhood is all about going two steps forward and one step back on a daily basis.

So what does this have to do with the East Village? I've been finding it difficult to write about the neighborhood for much of the same reasons. It's coming time to go. To leave the building I've known since my birth. I don't know that this will ever be my home again -- even though I will visit from time to time and will be in the neighborhood often.

American culture tends to downplay the sanctity in a sense of place. Our economy wants us to be mobile and our character is ever onward and upward. But love it or hate it, we all sprouted somewhere and it's in our blood. In many ways, I'm at peace with our next steps. The generations of family who walked these same streets have taught me all the things they thought I should know. They've given me their blessing and I see it every day in the spirit of my son.

Heartache

2009-03-21T06:53:00.002-04:00

My best friend Joe had open heart surgery this week. We have been good friends since 1968 when we met in 3rd grade and bonded over the Partridge Family.

He developed childhood leukemia in the early 70's and was one of the first group of kids to survive. The chemo lightened his hair permanently but it also damaged his heart...as he was to discover a few years ago.

The operation had some twists and turns that sent him back into surgery. His heart stopped twice.

He will have one more procedure, remain in ICU for a few days then off to a cardio rehab center. He is 46 years old.

We're not kids anymore. Although we are still eating the same amount of candy.

All is Vanity, Nothing is Fair

2009-03-03T22:14:00.006-05:00

I'm having a blog crisis.

There is so much to write about that I find it difficult to commit to one topic and post. So I sit frozen in front of my laptop and visit everyone else's blog instead. This has been going on for weeks.

Please be patient with me.

The economic downfall hit New York immediately but the downward economic "real feel" has taken a few months. Well folks, thousands of people in the NY area lost their jobs in the last five months. Stores are selling items at up to 70% off in spaces that demand high rents. Small businesses are going out of business everywhere around me in the East Village.

Except for my blessed hair stylist at Swing.

Luis and his partner Caroline have a cozy, ecofriendly salon that caters to East Villagers and the devotees that followed them here from Brooklyn. It's a very warm, neighborhoody place and that is why I will go there forever and ever. They also use organic products and since I, EVI, need to work hard (cough, umm) at keeping my bouncy thick brunette hair ummm staying bouncy and brunette, then organic is the way to go.

So I asked Luis how business was going. He said it was brisk. Lots of people coming in to get their hair styled for interviews, networking events, or just trying to look better than everyone else as a means to survive the rounds of layoffs.

There is something very New York to me about the importance of looking good -- even in the face of doom.

Gentleman Peeler

2009-02-17T22:09:00.004-05:00

Joseph Ades at work in Union Square, demonstrating his precision potato and carrot peelers.

Note from EVI - I frequently passed this fellow at the Greenmarket in Union Square. He finally showed up at Tompkins Square Park Green Market and did his thing - it was like performance art. I bought a peeler immediately and it is all he said it would be!!! Enjoy the following obit from The Villager:

He serves up potato peelers with a slice of style

By Kara Bloomgarden-Smoke

On any given sunny spring day at the Union Square Greenmarket, a large crowd gathers around Joseph Ades. Known as the “Gentleman Peeler,” Ades wears classic tweed suits and silk ties, sits in a low crouch and demonstrates slicing and peeling potatoes and carrots with an ordinary-looking peeler. In addition to simple peeling and slicing, Ades demonstrates how to use the peeler to make “real, three-sided French fries,” slice carrots in flower shapes so that “your kids will eat their veggies,” and make easy, shredded carrots.

“Right-handed or left-handed — or, like a politician, underhanded — these peelers work,” says Ades, in his British-accented sales pitch. Ades boasts that he is the only person who sells the Swiss-made, stainless-steel tools.

“One for $5 or five for 20 — you can’t get anything else from Switzerland for $5! A Swiss army knife costs $70.”
When I asked for an interview, Ades pointed to a laminated Vanity Fair article.

“I’m spoken for, love,” he said. “[Vanity Fair writer] Howard Kaplan writes about me.”

“Five pages in Vanity Fair — Julia Roberts on the cover and me inside!” Ades told the crowd during his afternoon pitch.

Ades was profiled in the May 2006 “Green issue” of the magazine. The profile describes his habit of drinking Veuve Cliquot Champagne at the Pierre, where he was a regular. When wealthy patrons of the Pierre inquired into Ades’s profession, he said he sold potato peelers. The patrons assumed he was joking until they saw him hawking his signature product on the street.

Ades, 74, came here from England more than 10 years ago. At age 15 in his hometown of Manchester, he learned the art of “grafting,” or selling and demonstrating products. He also learned never to underestimate a small amount of money.

Ades stores his inventory in the maid’s room of his Park Ave. apartment. According to an obituary in The New York Times, artist Estelle Pascoe, Ades’s wife, passed away last fall.

Ades can be found at the northwest corner of Union Square’s north plaza on most Greenmarket days, but he also sells his peelers on various corners around the city. Both New Yorkers and visitors photograph him and post the pictures on blogs as a way to convey an authentic New York experience. He has also been featured on fashion blogs for his dapper outfits.

During his pitch, he often dismisses the idea that his demonstration is simply a trick. “This is not Times Square, this is Union Square,” said Ades. “If this was a scam, I wouldn’t still be here.”

After watching the Gentleman Peeler at work, I decided to buy a peeler myself.

“You convinced me,” I said. “Can I convince you to let me ask you a few questions?”

Ades agreed and told me to come back that evening at 6, but by 5:30, the only trace of him was a stray potato peel on the sidewalk.

I hate stupid chocolate...

2009-01-28T21:32:00.002-05:00

...but I decided to make chocolate chocolate chip cookies anyway because I thought Ben and Brian would enjoy it. It came from a recipe from Rosie's Cookie Book. Rosie's Bakery are the wonderful people who baked my wedding cake over 19 years ago when I lived in Cambridge MA. It is a wonderful place.

But these cookies sucked. Yes, they were chocolaty and yes, they had a wonderful light and fluffy texture. But they had no soul. Brian and Ben ate them but they missed the old southern chocolate chip recipe that Brian's grandma baked throughout his childhood.

I would not usually take the time to write about this stuff but there were so many dam steps to this recipe and I was so friggin diligent. Plus I don't like chocolate. It brings me down. Well...unless it's chocolate chip mint ice cream.

New York City....

2009-01-21T20:05:00.005-05:00

is colder than a well diggers butt these days.

I'm over it.

Can we please have a break and hit say...35 degrees? This City can't handle frigid weather. It refuses to submit to the change in fashion that is mandatory for survival in arctic weather patterns.

I'm beginning to want to hibernate.

One Day I Woke Up....

2009-01-18T20:03:00.002-05:00

and my little baby suddenly looked like he is the lead singer in a British rock band. What ever happened to Thomas the Tank Engine?

So I'm wondering why the crosstown bus isn't showing up....

2009-01-17T18:34:00.003-05:00

and then someone coming from the west side let's the crowd at the bus stop know that a plane just crash landed into the Hudson River and is floating a few blocks north of my son's school.

The landing was miraculous as was the rescue effort. How in the world everyone survived is beyond me. The "good fortune" to crash land near the New York Water Taxi docking area...what are the chances of that? Or the chances of not crashing into the George Washington Bridge -clearing it by 1000 feet. Unbelievable. The pilot showed great leadership in great crisis.

Life went on as usual just a day later. ..It's a post 9/11 world. Luckily we have an Obama administration to help us navigate our own crash landing -- we'll all have to help in the rescue effort.

I Know I Should Like Her....

2009-01-08T23:25:00.003-05:00

But I feel weird about her candidacy for the next senator from New York. Is this part of the "change we can believe in" or more of the "meet the new boss, same as the old boss"?

It takes a certain level of entitlement to seek this position without serving as a public servant/ or visible public advocate beforehand. At the same time, her media draw may be something New York politicos think will serve the state.

Isn't there anyone else?

2008 Bitter and Sweet

2008-12-31T14:29:00.003-05:00

2008 was a tough year for me.

My mettle was tested to the limit professionally. I came out of it stronger, wiser and recognized for my value. If we could only become wise without the struggle!

Cancer scares - some real, some mistaken. some battles won, some battles lost.

One brother's new union not recognized by law, one sister divorces.

A decision to move on from my little East Village apartment in 2009 in search of space, quiet and nature.

The economy collapses. In terms of my sisters and brothers, three out of five lost their jobs - an investment banker, a marketing research expert, a top magazine editor.

Then November came and the spirits that built this beautiful country came alive again.

We have tremendous challenges ahead and I look forward to being part of the solution.

Cheers to all of you! May the New Year bring you good health, courage and much laughter.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

2008-12-25T07:04:00.002-05:00

The Missing Link

2008-12-22T07:08:00.002-05:00

I woke up at 6 am to share a cup of coffee with my husband before he headed off to work.

As is his custom, I watched him jam whole slices of bacon into his mouth.

During my second cup of coffee, I sat across the table from my lovely tween son Ben.

As is his custom, I watched him jam whole slices of bacon into his mouth.

Why don't males like to bite and chew food in the morning?

Ben's response "it tastes more bacon-y when you jam it in your mouth."

My husband nodded in agreement like Yoda.

Pristine

2008-12-16T22:50:00.003-05:00

I am sitting on my couch writing by the light of my beautiful funkadelic, slightly slanting Christmas tree.

It is almost 11 p.m. and snow is falling gently across Tompkins Square Park.

I love that park like it's a person.

It is quiet outside, except for the sound of taxis driving by and the sound of stray voices scattered here and there.

I feel like I've slipped inside the soul of the city.

Just for a little while.

And it's blissful.

Where the heck have I been?

2008-12-15T23:08:00.002-05:00

Hey.

Still getting used to the job, the commute, the new routine picking up Ben blah blah blah.

It's warm here in NYC. At least for today. I can't believe that Christmas is just 10 days away.

I don't feel it right now.

But I will once I turn on the lights of my Christmas tree which is taking up 15% of my living room.

Am I Friggin Hallucinating?!!

2008-11-29T11:16:00.007-05:00

Has the Obama Era already kicked in?

I woke up this morning, looked out the window and my head started to spin. Avenue A has bike lanes on either side of the street! At first I thought it was a prop device for yet another Law and Order episode. But it looks too legit.

Folks, this is a friggin' miracle. My little family has spent so many years biking at our own risk here in Gotham City!

What next?

Turkey Business

2008-11-26T20:31:00.003-05:00

I finished preparing the brine for the turkey and threw the bird right in -- breast first as they say.

Folks - I promise, it's one of the best ways to prepare a turkey. With all the turkeys I've roasted you'd think my favorite part of the bird would have evolved from being the wing. What can I say...it's a decision I locked into in second grade and I've never looked back.

Have a Peaceful and Content Thanksgiving. Let's remember all the military families who are without their mothers, fathers, sons and daughters tomorrow. If you have any ideas or contacts on how to help them - please let me know! I can't seem to find a way to help.

Grand Central Station

2008-11-20T20:47:00.001-05:00

Finally a moment to update my blog. My new job at the groovy liberal arts college right outside the city is going well. It involves a reverse commute that takes me through Grand Central Station.

My God how I love Grand Central Station. It is my second favorite spot in New York after Tompkins Square Park. It feels like you are walking through the soul of the city. The main hall is huge with towering jade colored ceilings mapping out the constellations. Everything is bathed in a golden light - even the eateries and stores on the bottom floor and long hallways leading toward the streets of midtown. The energy of thousands of people in motion pulls you into the City's current. I don't know how the rush hour can have such a romantic feel to it - but it does.

I frequently get to the station ten minutes early and find myself wandering through the boutiques that have already been opened since 7:30 am (to oblige morning commuters). It is THE place to go when you desperately need a gift for a special occasion you absolutely forgot about and only have 20 minutes before work or before the train to rectify the situation.

These stores are aimed at impulse shopping.....and I just want to buy everything. I suppose I'll snap out of it in time. In the meantime, I have no defense for the "personal peppergrinder" I bought last week.

GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!!!! PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA!!!

2008-11-04T23:19:00.002-05:00

We are hanging out the windows celebrating with the crowds out on Avenue A and Tompkins Square Park - cheering, howling, clapping, honking their car horns, lighting fireworks, and shouting out our gratitude and pure joy over this historical and blessed day!!!

CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN

2008-11-03T20:39:00.004-05:00

"Mommy, I don't understand why adults keep talking about if a person is black will other people vote for him. What difference does it make what color someone is or if somebody is a boy or a girl? It just matters if they are the best person for the job. Why do adults waste time talking about this stuff?"

--- Ben, my ten year old son

He'll be coming with us when we got to vote tomorrow. We always bring him to vote. It's important and we want him to know it's important.

Life on Two Acres Meets Life on 450 Square Feet

2008-10-28T17:03:00.008-04:00

This week I had the great fortune to meet Jodi aka Life on Two Acres. I'm pretty sure that Jodi responded to the second blog post I ever wrote somewhere back in August 2005. We've been following each others blogs ever since.

She suggested we meet at Joe's Coffee in the West Village - - which just proves that you could stick this woman in the mountains of Virginia or the middle of NYC and her good taste would always prevail.

Jodi and her husband (also a super nice person) obliged me as I dragged them from the West Village to the East Village. I'm sure I proved that native New Yorkers are the worst tour guides on the face of the earth.

I have always found Jodi's blog to be a comforting and authentic space to go to. She writes about her life and surroundings without pretense. It's through this lense that I see her sons, her home, the beautiful Virginia countryside, her beehives, her buckets of strawberries, her travels and all that we share as two women living at the same time, in the same country with much of the same joy and grief that life has to offer.

It's poetry. And it's beautiful.

But don't ask for a taste of the homemade strawberry jam or honey she gave me because I'm not sharing.

Worried....

2008-10-25T03:03:00.002-04:00

It's been a while since I've felt unsure about how to deal with an issue when it comes to my son.

Ben has always been a very good student. Fifth grade is a big jump at his school. Work becomes more demanding and the adjustment has not been easy for him. Until this year, he never needed to review his work before handing it in and by not doing so, he is not seeing the usual grades he is accustomed to.

Today my husband picked him up at school and Ben burst into tears over a math test result. He was so upset he forgot to bring home some of his school books needed to complete his homework...

I wish I knew exactly what to do. All I can think of is to focus on his skills in terms of keeping organized and reviewing work before handing it in.

How much do you push and how do you know when they are doing the best they can do?

TED

2008-10-20T20:46:00.003-04:00

I just got wind of a great website called www.TED.COM

It has the most thought provoking presentations and lectures. Each about twenty minutes long.

It's like giving your mind a milkshake. Check it out!!!

Viva Viagra!

2008-10-15T21:21:00.002-04:00

...or so my son sang as he ran naked down the hallway with his towel flying over his head. He just jumped out of the shower to catch precious innings of the Red Sox play off game.

This is the fall out of a ten year old boy watching ESPN during any key sports games. He is battered with Viagra and Flomax ads to the point of nausea. But does he understand what these drugs do?

So I asked about Viagra and got this response - given to me after a thoughtful silence...

"Well mom...Viagra, I think, blocks illness...while making you look more attractive."

Viva Viagra!

Autumn in New York....

2008-10-04T08:30:00.003-04:00

I love this time of year. Finally a crisp day.

The leaves have the slightest hint of yellows, reds and browns.

We are heading out to a gathering of friends up in Connecticut. The same NYC friends we see everyday. Only this time we won't be talking, walking and drinking coffee at the speed of light as we jump onto the subway or grab a cab.

We will sit together relaxed and capable of completing a full sentence.

Sex In the City - March of the Tin Broads

2008-10-01T23:45:00.005-04:00

A few weeks ago, I went out with my friend Mike for a night o'fun in the East Village. It had been a long time since I wandered the streets after 11 pm (even with my husband).

Much to my surprise, I witnessed a phenomena that made me laugh and scared me at the same time. Down every street DOZENS and I mean DOZENS of young women in super high heels and short fashionable dresses were marching down the street - usually four or five abreast of each other. Each one walking in time with the others.

At first sight of this marching brigade of gals I thought "oh isn't that funny, college girls reenacting the opening scenes of Sex in the City." ....but then they were everywhere...like an army of robots..a military infiltration of high heeled Carrie Bradshaws.

At one point I was wondering what would happen if one wall of girls rounded the corner and marched head on into another. Who would flinch? Who would stand still in her 5 inch heels? Or would it be like the days of Napoleon where soldiers marched right into each other with their bayonets pointed?

As I witnessed the brigades of stiletto heeled beauties pass me by in waves, I prayed silently and earnestly... "Ladies, may you all get laid tonight - the sooner the better - just so you can get off your aching feet!"

New Chapter

2008-09-30T21:00:00.002-04:00

Sorry I've been out of the loop.

Since my last post, I had to decide among three great job offers. Each place had something wonderful about it and would lead me in a unique direction professionally.

After much thought, I decided upon a position that will take me a few miles out of the City. Moving out may be part of the equation...and we are pretty okay with that. At this point, the cost of living and extreme gentrification of my little East Village feels like....the time has come to break up and just be friends.

Is it just me....

2008-09-19T23:04:00.002-04:00

...or are we spiraling into an economic depression? How many more times am I supposed to believe the bullshit that Wall Street and Corporate America are shocked and stunned by the nosedive the economy is taking.

The writing was on the wall over a year ago....

"Get government off the back of business" McCain....sure buddy but first let the American people take on the corporate debt as never before while paying for a pointless mutilating war. I can't believe my tax money is going towards this crap.

Whoever does not believe that this country is run by a corporate oligarchy is kidding themselves.
The American Empire is drawing to close. Looking forward to discovering what the "new normal" will be.

Okay...so I haven't done a f*ckin thing all day....

2008-09-13T19:59:00.003-04:00

Well Ben and Brian are camping and I have 48 whole hours to myself!!! I packed them up and sent them on their way this morning. I then proceeded to pour myself a cup of coffee and draft a "to do" list. It went something like this:

EVI To Do List

go to the gym
do the laundry
go to the green market buy groceries
go to duane reade (drug store) get batteries
meditate
go see the Dark Knight w/ Mike G
purge Ben's room of old toys

And now a look of what EVI actually did

bought a lot of songs from ITunes
listened to them over and over and over again
did a little bit of laundry
got a call from my friend Winsome
ate lunch with Winsome and her kids at life cafe then goofed off at Tompkins Square Park with them
downloaded a show from the first season of MAD MEN because I wanted to see what the hell people were talking about.
watched it
walked my dog around east village
came home and fell asleep
made two beds
started writing this post while listening to classical music
got a call from Mike to go see the Dark Knight

I am such a friggin goof off. Blame it on arrested development. I hit eight years old and I stayed there.

When the Walls Come Tumblin' Down....

2008-09-13T12:23:00.002-04:00

Lot's of friends losing jobs on Wall Street this week...friends with kids, tuitions and mortgages.

It was seven years ago today....

2008-09-11T19:42:00.002-04:00

Today I woke up and went about my day. Brian woke up at the crack of dawn and got coffee going. I soon followed by jumping into the shower and jumping out to make breakfast and get Ben into a wakeful state.

There were a number of features about 9/11. We listened to some but I could see that Ben was getting unsettled so I shut the radio off for while. Ben needed to be at school a bit earlier since he serves as an acolyte during chapel....Ben is agnostic at best but he enjoys the pageantry of mass, especially when he is carrying a large flaming candle or swinging a large crucifix on a stick up and down church aisles like a misplaced pirate.

Why didn't I wake up with the same sick feeling I usually do on the anniversary of 9/11? I suppose the cloudy gray weather threw me off. It's those sunny, crisp days that make me feel sick and sad.

The twin lights are up. I hope they always have them there.

Summer Love

2008-09-06T12:34:00.003-04:00

Today I returned to the Union Square Farmer's Market to do some quick shopping before the remnants of some wicked hurricane hurls its way up the coast toward NYC.

I have something to confess. I always get a bit depressed at the end of the summer months because that means the tomatoes will be going away for a while. Eating a good red or yellow tomato can be a religious experience. Feeding family and friends good tomatoes makes me feel grateful and closer to God.

Alas, September always arrives and my tomato romance must come to an end until next summer. Apples and squash just feel like dating down.....

EVI returns from planet vacation

2008-08-31T18:11:00.002-04:00

Whew! Two and a half weeks of no technology, no cable, just ocean, bike riding, hiking and sleeping in a secluded cottage on a country road WITH NO TRAFFIC.

Truro was a very welcome respite for me this year. I had no idea that 2008 would be such a major drag. I had lots of time to decompress and make some MAJOR decisions in SILENCE.

Every time I went to the beach, I made a point of running into the water as soon as I got there. It felt like a baptism every time. Nothing like the mighty power of the Mama Atlantic to slap some sense into you. And it did.

I loved the sensation of submerging myself into cold salty water as the waves swells rolled past me-- a force that couldn't give a shit about the day to day worries that piled up in my life for last six months.

It's nice to be able to check on all my blog friends. Especially one down in Louisiana who is getting ready for the storm that's brewing.

So that's how babies are born...

2008-08-10T10:25:00.004-04:00

Ben had his yearly physical this week. Last year when Ben turned nine, his doctor suggested that we begin to discuss puberty with him.

Keep in mind, my son still marches around the house naked with the total abandon of a five year old. He can frequently be found standing in front of the TV nude with a long forgotten bath towel at his feet, far too mesmerized by ESPN to realize his position in the time/space continuum.

A pre-teen wrap session?! Ben would have none of it. So we moved on.

Ben is now ten. He is a big tall boy for his age (in the 98 percentile - where he always is).
His wonderful fabulous doctor suggested that we begin to discuss the birds and bees with him.

I just don't see it happening, but I had my husband take a crack at it.

Ben said he didn't want to learn about the birds and the bees because he already knows about it.

Reproduction according to Ben:

"A mommy and daddy sleep in the same bed. A mom gives the daddy the eggs, then a mommy gets pregnant and a baby pops out of mommy somewhere down there."

What do you mean "gives the daddy the eggs?"

"I'm not sure about that part. But who cares."

Better luck next year.

A Word to the Wise....

2008-07-25T20:29:00.002-04:00

Don't EVER do yoga when you are in a bad ass mood and hate the world. You just might fuck your knee up and pull a muscle in your lower back...why didn't I find solace in drugs or alcohol like the rest of the genetic pool I hail from?!

The Kids are Alright

2008-07-18T20:18:00.003-04:00

My professional life is keeping me super duper busy these days - - away from the many blog updates I would love to share. So time for a bit of catch up.

Years back when Ben was a little less than two years old, I brought him to a dinner party at the home of some friends in Brooklyn. They all thought him utterly adorable - which he is - and said he looked like a little angel with long auburn curls.

I stared down at my sleeping son, splayed out on their couch with his belly hanging out of his tee shirt, and I responded with total honesty...."Really...a little angel? When I look into my son's eyes I feel certain that he will grow up to be Keith Moon....hopefully a less excessive version."

My friends were shocked and could not understand how I saw that in him.

Fast forward to 2008. My son Ben is ten. He is OBSESSED, OBSESSED,OBSESSED with The Who. My husband brought him to get his haircut at the Israeli barbershop around the corner. Ben opened a rock book pointed to Keith Moon and said "please cut my hair EXACTLY like that!"

A mother always knows.

Ben wants to be a Mod. He has asked for purple round sunglasses and feels certain that I have the ability to SEW him a British flag jacket (note Pete Townsend above). He had Brian take him to Ben Sherman's in Soho to buy a tee shirt with the Mod target design on it. How did he even know where to find such things?!

He spends countless hours on YouTube playing "air" drums to Who clips.

And of course I will oblige him.

The vendors on St. Mark's Place have the sun glasses and I will order him the Union Jack jacket...all in time for the first day of school where absolutely no one in his class will know what the hell he is talking about...which is just another day in the life of my beautiful, quirky boy.

Help Me Beet the Habit!

2008-07-09T19:29:00.003-04:00

Every time I see beautiful beets at the green market I fall in love with them. Beets are my favorite color. They are tastey. So I buy them....and proceed to watch them rot in my fridge. It's becoming my little ritual.

How do you cook beets? I like to eat them cold maybe with dressing on it. Any ideas? Help save innocent beets from dying in my fridge!

Fourth of July

2008-07-05T15:10:00.005-04:00

Remember that song from X? I always loved that song.

Yesterday was a quintessential NYC day for us. We got on our bikes and rode over to the East River Park. Tons of families were out there grilling and relaxing - just a huge mix of everyday people. There are these tents you can set up - basically a roof on four poles that everyone seemed to have. Seeing all these families and friends together made me wish that I was at a gathering like that myself. I'm sure my mother and her family did the same right along this park years ago.

We proceeded down the pathway that takes you passed the Manhattan Bridge, the Brooklyn Bridge and South Street Seaport. At that point, we navigated our bikes into Chinatown for a stop at Dim Sum GoGo. If you come to the City - you must go there. It isn't fancy but it also isn't intimidating (as in you must speak fluent Chinese to enter).

They have a standard menu which we forgo for the one page dumpling menu where you can check off what you might like. Each order of dumplings has about three or four dumplings that are delivered to you in a bamboo steam basket. We usually get two orders each of some kind of shrimp, chicken, veggies and fried pork dumplings. Basically, the waiter comes to our table with two towering columns of bamboo steam baskets....we are not a proud people.

After lunch, we got back on our bikes and rode down to Battery Park where we were joined by the rest of the population of NYC. It was packed - but again, I just loved seeing everyone. I love New York. I love the diversity of class, race and ethnicity. As I get older, my love of this city has become deeper and more personal. On these sorts of days, you feel the love returned.

So it's getting hot and we keep on riding. Ben is being a real sport. We ride along the Hudson River and reach the West Village, where we cross over and ride into the East Village. There we celebrate at Ben and Jerry's over well earned ice cream cones. Later that night, we barbequed hot dogs and watched the Macy's Fireworks on our roof.

Nice Day in the Big Apple.

The Blind Leading The Blind

2008-06-27T22:05:00.002-04:00

Today I was coming home on the L train when I noticed a young woman beside me playing solitaire on her ipod or something that looked like an ipod.

I'm sorry but how the hell do people play card games, video games, watch movies and read the friggin newspaper on screens that are essentially two inches high and three inches wide?? Why put yourself through that hell? I'd rather daydream.

Why would I watch a movie or t.v. show on a screen as small as the palm of my hand - - or smaller? It just amazes me how much time people spend on their technology. It frequently seems like communication that is less about content and more about technology.

Just tons of noise and visuals being pumped into our eyes and ears non stop.

Remember Me?!!

2008-06-20T23:09:00.002-04:00

Short staffed and work has been non stop for quite some time. Not fun. Not fun at all.

I miss all my beloved blog friends.

Went on a tour of Ben's new day camp. It looks pretty nice. He seemed to be warming up to it in his shy way.

Glad to be back.

Now THIS is New York

2008-05-17T17:55:00.003-04:00

It's 6 pm.

I'm sitting by my front window and there are about 300 people across the street learning how to salsa together in Tompkins Square Park. The instructor is guiding them from one step to the next. To see all these people moving in time with the salsa and instructions echoing across the park is beautiful.

It looks like they are moving into the Rumba! Now I want to take lessons.

I'm on my own this weekend. The boys are up in Boston making a pilgrimage to Fenway Park so I'm flying solo.

As my first act of defiance, I woke up at 8:05 (about 11 am non childrearing time). I walked Saki all over the park and hung out with my friend Martin for a while. He is an artist and a surfer.
I did a few chores then took Saki out to check out the...

UKRANIAN FESTIVAL on East 7th Street afew blocks away. My dad is part Ukranian and spent many years as a child living on or near 7th street.

I dropped my thirsty dog home and went to St. Mark's Place to watch the Dance Parade that began somewhere in Chelsea and shimmied down to Tompkins Square Park. That parade did me a world of good. There must have been a zillion different dance troupes, dance schools, dance groups and a few dancing drunks shaking their groove things for blocks and blocks.

What I LOVED best about it was that the people dancing all had different bodies - sure there were the lean and tall legions but they were way outnumbered by the wiggily, jiggily let it all hang out baby brigade. There were disco dancers, followed by South American traditional dancers. There was a group of black women in black unitards and plumed masks on roller skates doing disco moves. At one point I saw a guy in traditional Greek costume hanging out with a woman who was one of the multitude of bellydancers who showed up. It was just insane, sloppy and great.

They all marched into the park where...they danced some more! At the water fountain of the three graces - three women each wrapped long wide red pieces of cloth around the sculpture and then wrapped themselves in it, moving position very slowly while someone played the violin. It was cool!

After parade watching, I got a slice of pizza and went to the gym....you read that right. Then I wen to Trader Joes and came home and plopped myself down. In two hours I'll be going over to the Pearl Theater on St. Mark's to see the Importance of Being Earnest.

It's a good day in New York.

My Baby

2008-05-15T23:06:00.003-04:00

Today I walked down the stairs of the subway en route to pick up Benjamin after work. I'm going into week two of a crummy sinus infection and work continues to drain the joy out of me these days.

I walked by the magazine stand on the platform and glanced at all the gossip magazines that seem to rule our culture. Don't people get bored sucking in all that garbage? I take it too seriously.

I looked over and saw the front of the New York Times and it showed a pair of Chinese parents who made a make shift cover of cardboard around their eight year old son's face. He was dead. A victim of the earthquake. It looked like he also had a blanky they brought to comfort him on his journey home. They sat together tenderly attending to him. Doing right by him.

So many of these families have only one child in China. I can't imagine the grief hanging over these communities.

Needless to say, my job and health woes began to shrink down to their proper scale. Here I was running to pick up my beautiful son. And I was dam grateful.

Mommies Rule Daddies Drool!!

2008-05-11T10:20:00.003-04:00

.....Or so my son Ben claimed this morning.

It is Mother's Day -- a day which is part of my holy trinity (Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, My Birthday). After 18 years of marriage, Brian stands at the ready with flowers, cards and a gift - - all the tools necessary to feed the beast that is Mommy!

Happy Mother's Day to all you wonderful mommies out there. You make the world go round.

Yep. That's what I did.

2008-05-05T22:45:00.005-04:00

I was making the rounds and read writermama's most recent post (see link to writermama in the column to the right). Check it out.

It's an interview with some local downtown friends of hers who chatted a bit about life and style back in the late 70's/early 80's when the big apple was a lot grittier.

For me - nightlife began in 1980. Going to Danceteria, the New Peppermint Lounge, CBGB's. Having wide streaks of purple running through my thick dark hair. Army boots, Doc Martens, heavy black eyeliner, used tweed coats with big black guy belts. Impromptu huge parties in warehouses downtown. Wearing about fifty black rubber and silver bracelets on each wrist. The music, the nightlife and the fashion felt so sloppy, beautiful, interesting and alive.

The feeling that anything goes. What the hell feels better than that? I can't see that here anymore ... that feeling is the key to paradise. There isn't a day I didn't cherish it.

A good friend gave me sage advice. She said, "You didn't lose anything. You are your own East Village."

God knows I'm tryin'. Sometimes I just feel like the Cross Bronx Expressway.

Free Love in the Park

2008-04-27T08:38:00.002-04:00

Don't be fooled. It is very easy to have a personal relationship with a park. This weekend I got to spend some precious time across the street in Tompkins Square Park. How spoiled I am to have this beautiful green square to look out on every day....well maybe the noise of Avenue A balances it all out.

The other day I was walking Saki through the park. The volume of blossomed tulips was extraordinary. Red and yellow beautiful tulips everywhere and so densely planted together. It almost looked like an error in landscaping. Either that or the bulbs were planted months earlier by someone on speed. The daffodils made a strong second showing. Regardless of the back story, I still enjoyed the flower explosion.

I'd also like to confess that I have become an owner that chats with their dog while walking around in public.

On Friday evening, Brian, Ben, Saki and I went out to the park to shoot some hoops at the corner of the park by 10th and B. The sky was a deep blue violet and the courts were lit by the dim gold lighting that goes on as the sun sets. I felt very happy to be exactly where I was, doing exactly what I was doing. It's been a long time since I've felt that way. It was one of those zen moments that comes out of nowhere. Moments of unintentional bliss.

Shakespeare's Birthday

2008-04-23T19:28:00.002-04:00

.....is today. And for that reason I consider it a personal holiday. Even if I must go to work.

Work.

It is feeling very work like these days. Feeling more like "a job" than work. Very sad.

And yet I remain stubbornly hopeful that I will one day soon resume my usual custom of skipping to work.

Cool

2008-04-12T18:11:00.002-04:00

If you look to the right of this post, you'll see a list of bloggers I read quite a bit. One of them is
Writermama. I really enjoy her blog about city life, librarian-in-training life, writing life and mama life.

Every Monday she posts a Monday style post. Most of the photos are girls and guys on the street - mostly downtown wearing something neat. These posts have made me more aware of what people wear as I take my long subway ride to work from downtown to way uptown.

The verdict is that every day New Yorkers dress cool and with great style. I would wager that they dress cooler than any other city in the world. And it isn't only one type of cool. The diversity of class , age and ethnicity make it even more fascinating to me.

A good reason...a great reason to love New York.

Recession? I think so!

2008-04-04T22:58:00.004-04:00

I am a woman who enjoys cooking. It is probably the one thing that I do without looking twice at the cost.

Boy is that a thing of the past.

Every time I go to the grocery store (from the glamorous Citeralla to the crunchy Commodities to the supermarket of your choice) I have become more and more amazed at the prices. Orange juice costs $5, cottage cheese $4.50 - I went somewhere and saw lemons for $1 each? Are you fucking kidding me? I think it's time to grow my own lemon tree.....

Which brings me to my backlash strategy. I am so going to the greenmarket now for everything I can...even meat - which I never did. I'm also seeing more meat/poultry at the Union Square market. I'm trying to cut the shipping, packing, gas overhead out of my grocery bill and hand my cash over to local folks....I'd rather they had it any way. Driving it down from upstate NY has got to be less than shipping it from CA.

I saw a small container of guacamole at Whole Foods priced at $8.99.
Whole Foods can kiss my ass. Where did those avocados come from - Mars?!! Were they hand picked by Christian Bale and placed in a wicker basket that was Fedexed to NYC?
I think not.

Ben Ten

2008-04-01T22:49:00.002-04:00

Yep. My baby has entered into the double digits just a few days ago.

We celebrated with his band of cousins and grandparents singing/shouting Happy Birthday to him.

The cake was HUGE. I ordered a 12 inch cake that looked a helluva lot more like a 16 inch cake that was six inches high. Basically it appeared to be a Dr. Seuss cake. Something you might see eaten in Who-ville. The outside was chocolate ganache with a devils food cake and chocolate mousse filling....I am not a fan of chocolate but even I enjoyed it. We ordered it at Ciao for Now on East 12th Street between Ave. A and B. They did a teeeeriffic job.

We gave Ben an electric guitar, an Epiphone - "like the one John Lennon had". I realize I may live to regret this purchase but I married a musician so I stand unafraid.

Cooperstown

2008-03-19T21:01:00.005-04:00

It's Spring Break!! Two weeks of keeping my son entertained while not losing my job!

We finally decided to bite the bullet and head on up to Cooperstown, NY for three days. I'll be honest, the prospect of devoting my life to the Baseball Hall of Fame for 72 hours seemed less than promising.

And yet it was wonderful. Cooperstown, New York is a quaint small town sitting on the edge of Lake Otsego - about four hours north of New York City. I love going places off season - whether it be Cape Cod, Europe or Cooperstown. The air was crisp, the lake clear and beautiful and the surrounding hills (foothills of the Adirondacks I suppose) pristine.

Upstate New York is stunning. You can see how artists fell in love with the landscape and writers continue to be inspired here. The Native American spirit is everywhere.
Check out the Fenimore Art Musuem and the Farmers' Museum - - they really are cool.

Coming back to the City feels less and less exciting to me. Those Cooperstown people seemed pretty happy to be nestled in the splendor of nature and the life of a small town.

I guess I would miss the Arab guys who run the bodega two doors down from me. They make me feel like I live in a small town.

Hey Neighbor!!!!!

2008-03-15T22:14:00.003-04:00

I was rounding the corner of A and 14th on my way home and for the first time in about five years I looked across the street - the east side of Avenue A.

My eyes locked onto a place that looked like a precious coffee spot. Remember when a coffee spot usually meant sixty year old waitresses, the Daily News, donuts as big as your head and cheap coffee? Not anymore baby...that went the way of the dinosaurs years ago. Even Dunkin Donuts is pimping itself out with Milky Way Hot Chocolate. What the hell is that about? Who would drink that besides a jonesing heroin addict?

Which brings me back to gramstand - the place I "discovered" today. You see that particular side of Avenue A was the home to one or two heroin hang outs masquerading as bars for so many years that I literally blocked out that part of the street from my line of vision....just a few short blocks away from me.

Now we have gramstand which is not a coffee spot but a tea spot with a website and a mission statement. The young man who sold me my coffee for $2.70 was very nice. What can I say. It's a new world order.

A Mover And A Shaker

2008-03-09T09:53:00.006-04:00

Some big changes at work.

My boss is moving on to the women's college for super duper smart girls in the Boston area. This leaves her job opened and a few dozen people asking me if I'll be throwing my hat in the ring.

Sigh.

Throwing your hat in the ring isn't always everything it's cracked up to be. My happiness comes in people (like the president of the college) encouraging me to consider it because they respect my work. Receiving this affirmation from so many people is a huge gift to me.

As for my hat flying into the ring....well girls....as my generation has learned the hard way, we can't do it all --- especially not at the same time. I realized this tragic fact when I had problems recalling what my son was like from the ages of two through five.

I figure I've got about three more years before he starts ignoring me - - no brass ring is worth more than what the two of us share right now.