Month: April 2022

  • ODDS and ENDS: Moving, Weather, Tottenham, and Crappy Time Lords

    (Half days are killers)

    Last night, we brought up the idea of moving apartments to the kid. She did not like the idea, and I understand why. Her objection was that she didn’t want to leave her friends, and I knew that was coming. Having gone through the pandemic and not being able to see anyone, she now is living a rather normal childhood; school, parks, friends. (She’s just missing playdates, but I know that is coming.) For a seven-year-old, she’s living the dream. We mentioned to her that moving to a different neighborhood in the City would mean that we would have a bigger apartment to live in, and though she would be in a different school, we were still in the City and can come back and visit her friends. That didn’t sell her. To her, our little corner of Harlem is the best place in the world.

    I don’t like getting older sometimes. Lately, I keep thinking and talking about the weather, which clearly is a sign that I am getting older. Such as, it was 40 degrees this morning, and it’s the end of April. As we are about to hit May, it should be warmer. I say this because the month of May is one of the reasons I still live in New York City. It’s supposed to be not too hot and not too cold. It’s a Baby Bear month! I want to put on a lite coat and sunglasses and take a walk. It’s the little things in life that make it worth living, and I need my little things, damn it!

    Tottenham better beat Leicester, and West Ham needs to beat Arsenal. That’s my weekend.

    What if we are living in the “fixed” timeline? What if things got so bad that people in the future went back in time and “fixed” whatever made things so bad, and this is the “better” version of things?

  • Short Story Review: “The Repugnant Conclusion” by Elif Batuman

    (The short story “The Repugnant Conclusion” by Elif Batuman appeared in the April 25th & May 2nd issue of The New Yorker.)

    Kierkegaard!

    It’s just fun to say it! Kierkegaard!

    I know he was Danish, but I like to say his name in a heavy German accent, like I’m acknowledging a rival has bested me.

    Kierkegaard!

    Personally, I like any short story that openly tackles anything philosophical. (Bonus points if you mention KIERKEGAARD!) “The Repugnant Conclusion,” by Elif Batuman, is such a story. The piece revolves around three friends who are sophomores at Harvard; Selin (the narrator), Svetlana, and Lakshmi. Summer vacation is over and they are all returning back to school, and they do what college kids do; they study, they talk, they think about sex, they have sex, they think about life in and out of school, and try to take what they are learning and use it, or at least discuss it. But they are not the old “normal” Ivy League college kids. They are Turkish, Russian and Indian respectively. It is a factor in their experience at college, and how they will go forth in the world when they leave. They are aware also of their Americanness, as well. All factors that weigh on them.

    I enjoyed how this story introduced me to characters I had not experienced before, and I also enjoyed how they reminded me of my college experience with my friends. I found the story truthful in the perspectives each character had. Nothing seemed forced or put on. Yet, I knew full well that each character was staking a different philosophical position in a narrative structure. (Kierkegaard!) It’s a trick, and one that if played wrong could come across as heavy handed and shallow. I thought Batuman hit the right note. Maybe these characters will be like this for the rest of their lives, maybe it’s a phase, maybe they will evolve into something else. Maybe it’s just sophomore year.

    And maybe it’s just life.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Writing in Public; A Personal History

    My current office is a public library in Harlem. I come in the afternoon, and this is where I do some of my writing. I can get some work done in the morning, and usually that is when I blog. After lunch, I head out to the library to work on everything else. This situation works well, especially for my wife who works from home. When I head out, that gives her the afternoon alone in the apartment so she can focus and get her work done, as well.

    I like my local library. It’s not too big, and is never too crowed either. I can find a space to work, listen to my music, and outside of one guy who clearly is some sort of remote IT specialist which requires him to speak on his phone to clients, it’s rather quite here. (Though I did witness two old guys almost get into an old man fight over who could sit at what table.) There is something nice about being surrounded by books.

    I am not the brilliant one who came up with this idea of using the library. It was my wife who suggested that I use the library to work. And she got the idea from our good friend who uses her local library as the place where she writes. I was hesitant at first to do it, but I now admit that was a mistake. I have been rather productive, at least word count wise.

    Writing in public is something that I have tried doing, on and off, since high school. Back then, there was a local all-night coffee shop/diner that I could camp at. After high school and in college, I would camp at a local IHOP, and that ended up becoming a hang out with all my friends. Then I turned twenty-one, and started hanging out in bars, which I didn’t write in, as that’s not why you go to a bar.

    Then I moved to NYC, and made friends, and one of them owned a bar in Manhattan which I would visit. Trying an effort to be a supportive friend, I would always suggest his bar to other friends as a good place to meet up for a drink. On occasions that I would get to the bar early, and would be waiting on my friends to arrive, I would pull out my journal, and write at the bar to kill time.

    I actually felt very comfortable doing it, and soon I started just going to that bar to write in my journal alone. The bar was shaped like an “L” and I would sit at the short part next to the wall, so I could watch the goings on of the long part bar. The staff got to know me, I am sure because I was friends with the owner, and we would converse, but then they would give me some space to work.

    Sadly, the pandemic closed down his bar, and I really haven’t been able to find a good replacement.

  • My Social Media and Blog Footprint

    I suck at social media. Part of it is that I keep thinking no one cares what I do or like, let alone what I am currently eating. Yet, I feel the need to get better at it. As if it were an art form which needs to be mastered. Though, I feel one cannot master it, but can only be innovative with it.

    I know that everything on social media is some form of a lie, but the same could be said for marketing, and I do believe that is what social media really is. People who are good at social media are very good at marketing themselves.

    I am not good at marketing myself. I want you to pay attention to me, but I don’t want to do anything to make you pay attention to me.

    I am a conundrum to myself.

    I feel self-conscious when I ask people to pay attention to me. This might be why I enjoy acting, and puppetry so much when it comes to theatre. I could either hide myself in a character, or literally, hide behind a puppet and never be seen. I could be the center of attention, and no one would get to know me.

    But I have a public blog. A blog that has increased its views by 50% in the past two months. So, that means there are more of you coming by to look at me. (Well, the stats are saying you are here to read the short story reviews, but a few of you venture to the other posts. In that sense, greetings!) Still, I feel very uncomfortable about mentioning this blog to the people in my daily life.

    I have been thinking about that lately; why aren’t I more aggressive in sharing this?

    Part of it is that I am still not sure if I believe that I am a professional, a hobbyist, or if I am a hobbyist advancing towards professionalism? And if I don’t believe that what I am creating has value, then how can I ask anyone else to believe it is of value?

    Maybe it’s not self-consciousness, but a mere lack of self-confidence?

    But I do like it. I like writing a blog every day. I thought about cutting back to just three days a week, but it felt weird not to post daily.

    Hence, why I am here today.

    Please, feel free to subscribe and share with your friends.

  • I Make Schedules Only to Break Them

    I had made a schedule for today, and I 100% did not follow it.

    Last week was Spring Break with the kid, and all the plans got thrown out the window. For one, our car got hit while parked on the street, so it’s been in the shop since then. The loss of the vehicle killed all of our plans of getting out of the City. I had this idea that me and the kid would go disc golfing up around Beacon, and then the next day, head to a beach on Long Island. Sounds like fun and we were looking forward to it. I replaced that with going to The Strand one day, and the Museum of Natural History the next. The kid seemed fine with it.

    Anyway, with all of my time last week being spent with the kid, I knew I wasn’t going to get any work done, not that I minded. So, the start of this week, I wanted to hit the ground running. Like I said, I created a schedule for today to make sure I would be able to get everything I wanted to get done, done.

    And the day started out fine. We all got up on time, and made it to school early. I went to the gym to work out, and really got into my run. Came home from the gym, and it just went downhill. Not that it matters, honestly. I’m writing the blog in the afternoon instead of the morning. I have yet to journal, but that will be next, and I know that I won’t get to fiction today.

    BUT! I did get the laundry done, balanced the check book, did some home finance projections for the wife, took down the Easter decorations, made lunch and shopped for dinner. See, I got some shit done.

    On to the next thing