Blog

  • Opening the Windows

    We are desperate for Autumn in our home. For the past two days in NYC, the high has been 78 degrees or so. For us, that means we can shut off the air conditioners, and open up the widows and get some fresh air in here.

    Except there really hasn’t been a breeze, which doesn’t help cool things off in the apartment. And then there is the new condo tower going up across the way, with its all glass window exterior which reflects the sun in a focused high beam right into out livingroom, thus warming the whole place up by five degrees or so, between the hours of 2pm to 5pm. I now know what an ant under a magnifying glass feels like. We suffer on with fans going – hoping to move enough air to feel like it’s cool at home.

    Which it isn’t.

    BUT!

    The windows are open. That’s something you do when it’s not hot out. Open windows mean the seasons are changing, and it might, sort of, hopefully, get cool enough so I could put a sweater on at night… Or early in the morning?

    This is a silly little hopeful dance we do every year. Thinking that the Summer heat is over, and that we can pack up or short sleeves and shorts, and return them to storage along with the 500-pound window a/c’s that we lug up and down the stains once a year.

    What I really want is it to be mid-October, with the leaves changing and I have an afternoon cup of coffee in my hand.

    That’s what I want.

    But I’ll settle on some open windows.

  • You’re Embarrassing Me!

    My kid finds me embarrassing. This isn’t some shock or revelation, or even a surprise. All kids find their parents embarrassing at some point, right? It just comes with the territory. With my kid starting at a new school, she has found me more embarrassing than usual of late. I am a silly person, I admit that, but I also know that the kid is trying to fit in, and what she wants is for there to be nothing, and I mean NOTHING, to disrupt or rock that boat. I get it, and I have been on my better behavior to just be normal.

    But I would also like to point out that even my “normal” behavior has been deemed embarrassing. So, this appears to be a no-win situation, because as I have mentioned above, all kids find their parent embarrassing.

    In my time, it was my mother who put a “Jesus Loves You” bumper sticker on the back of her poo brown Chevet. I mean, it was bad enough she drove a shit colored Chevet, but reminding everyone that Jesus in fact did love them was a bridge too far for me. It was junior high, and as soon as I got out of that car, all the kids at school would begin to yell at me “Jesus Loves You!” There were a few creative bullies out there who would add “Satan Loves You, Too!”

    But I started thinking this morning, being that I am now on Team Parent, that there is nothing wrong with me, so why should I have to change? If I am being my true authentic self, then there is no reason for me to adjust my behavior. I’m not the problem here. I’m just me and the kid is just going to have to come to terms with that.

    And yet this feels like the wrong attitude to have in this situation…

  • Women’s World Cup: Spain v England – Final

    Couple of things here –

    I call bullshit on Prince William not going to Australia to support England’s team. That whole, saving the environment by not flying there, thing is just the laziest of excuses. We all know that shit wouldn’t have been pulled on the men’s team. It would have been an easy win for the Prince to show up at the final with his daughter cheering on the Lionesses. Besides, Queen Letizia and Princess Sofia of Spain were able to make it. Just saying.

    Honestly – who picked Spain the win this thing?

    And furthermore, we all should have picked Spain to win this thing. Clearly, they knew something we didn’t.

    As for the match, Spain was the better squad. Really, England was never in this game. Sure, Mary Earps had a hell of a match stopping that penalty kick, England’s only bright spot, but they didn’t start to get their act together well into the second half, and at that point it was too late. Spain was in control of this game from the start, and it never ceased to feel like they knew they were going to win this. In the end, the better team won, which I guess is what you want to see in a final. Nevermind all of Spain’s drama off the pitch, because in the end, what matters is how you play the game on the field.

    And last; I got up at 6am to watch the Final. I also woke up my daughter, and the two of us snuggled up on the couch to watch these two teams play. For all the craziness that happened in this World Cup, this was the moment that I had been waiting for – watching with my kid. I don’t know if this will have a deep impact on her, but it was a moment in time where we were together, watching the best players in the world go at it, and give it everything they had. It was fun and I’m glad that we shared it together.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Spain v England, The Gym, and I Hate Summer

    (You Couldn’t Be Bad…)

    Holy Crap! I do know something about International Football Teams! Or At least I did at the start of the World Cup! And then I changed my mind… But now I am back to my original idea! England will win the World Cup! Unless it’s Spain, which was a team I never had much faith in because everything I read was that Spain was a bit of a shit show that couldn’t get their act together. The point here is that I don’t know anything, and I make predictions, and I am wrong often, but the end result is way more exciting than I expected. It is fair to label me a very enthusiastic fan of football, though not highly educated on the nuances of the sport. Not that it matters as I am having fun with all of it. I really didn’t think England would make it past Australia. As for Spain, I thought there was no way in hell they would get past the Dutch, let alone Sweden… I’ve said this before, if sports was predictable, then there would be no reason to watch it. Looking forward to the final on Sunday morning.

    I went back to the gym this morning. It’s been three months of absence. Even my gym app was asking me if I was planning on going back anytime soon. I’m tying the gym into all the schedule changes we have been making as a family with the kid starting at a new school, at a much earlier time. The goal is to get back to going four times a week. If I lost some weight, that would be cool, but right now I am just looking to get healthy, improve my attitude, and get more focused. Starting this journey today, I did thirty minutes of walking on the treadmill. On the tv in front of me, they gym was playing an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. Not what I was expecting.

    And I want to end on this point; I’m tired of Summer, and I hate the season. Sure, back in March I was all about making vacation plans, sitting on a beach, getting my shorts on, and being outdoors. Now that it’s mid-August in The City, it’s just hot and humid. It’s gross out. I want it to end. I’m an old man bitching, but I don’t care, because I’m dreaming of sweaters, flannel shirts, leaves changing color, the windows being open, and coats – wonderful warming coats. It’s time for a season change.

  • Short Story Review: “The True Margaret” by Karan Mahajan

    (The short story “The True Margaret” by Karan Mahajan appeared in the August 14th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Eliza Bourner for The New Yorker

    “The True Margaret” by Karan Mahajan, is an interesting short story, which ultimately is a well-crafted piece of fiction, yet I never found myself engrossed by it. The story has a great opening paragraph, which is compelling, but what follows is a deliberate plodding paced story that never rises in intensity, even as the climax approaches. As I finished the story, I liked it, but I was left feeling unsatisfied. I will say this; I do recommend reading this story.

    All the pieces are here for an effective short story. It is set in the past of 1959 London. An arranged marriage, an Indian bride brought 5,000 miles from her home. The adjustment to a new city and culture. The shadow of colonialism, patriarchy, class, and sexism. Questions about the idea of freedom being a reality or an illusion. How threats grow larger and more diabolical in our minds as we dwell on them. The duality of one’s nature. The courage to escape one’s situation, and a resolution that delivers our protagonist to a safer place, but not a rewarding place. There is a lot going on here, and it is all brought up in a natural way, never feeling forced.

    And still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of not being satisfied with the ending. Finally, I had to come to the conclusion that this ending was the point. That the plodding pace was there to help illustrate this point. Doing the right thing, breaking the mold, saving yourself doesn’t mean you get the happy ending – it only means you survived to live another day. And even if you get years beyond that incident, to where it doesn’t necessarily feel real anymore, it sometime can never be forgotten, or forgiven.