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  • ODDS and ENDS: Rats, FA Cup, and Spring

    New York City has always had a rat problem. When the Dutch founded their colony almost 400 years ago, they brought many things we are still dealing with to this day, but none are more ingrained in the fabric of the City than the rats. Face it, when the nuclear holocaust comes, it will be the rats and the cockroaches fighting for supremacy. And I have my money on the rats. The problem has become so bad that Mayor Adams appointed a Rat Czar to deal with it. Many proposals have been made like placing rat-proof trash and compost cans around the City, to banning the restaurant sidewalk sheds. These ideas might work, but walking around town I see a more practical answer right there in the open: Cats. My local bodega has a cat, and that place has been rodent free since it opened. I’m not kidding about this. My grandfather grew up on a farm and they kept cats in the barn to keep rats and mice away, and according to him it worked well with very little effort on his part; The cat kind’a knew what to do. So, just think about it- cats.

    Who needs an FA Cup? Not Tottenham Hotspur, that’s for sure.

    I know we are only on the third day of March, but I’m ready for Spring. I’m ready to open up the windows, and start hiking again on the weekends. Maybe even a little disc golf as well. I’m ready for green and color to return. I’m ready to transition to the next thing.

  • Short Story Review: “Snowy Day” by Lee Chang-Dong (Translated from the Korean, by Heinz Insu Fenkl and Yoosup Chang.)

    (The short story “Snowy Day” by Lee Chang-Dong appeared in the March 6th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Yes, there will be SPOILERS!)

    Illustration by Anuj Shrestha

    “Snowy Day” is an okay story. Not awful, not amazing either, and in the end, I do recommend that you should read it. It was written by Lee Chang-Dong, translated from the Korean by Heinz Insu Fenkl and Yoosup Chang. I broke my own rule with this story and looked up who the author was to gain some background information, as I was curious and wanted to know why the author structured this story the way that he did. By the way, Lee Chang-Dong is an accomplished South Korean film director, screenwriter, and novelist.

    What struck me about “Snowy Day” was that the story felt like it was written from a different time; specifically, like a late 1940’s short story in Collier’sor some other magazine of that period. And what I mean by that is those stories of that time were structured in a classic form, but were beginning to take on a more Modern subject matter, so those stories had a disjointed, incongruent feel. That’s what “Snowy Day” felt like.

    The structure of this piece had an old feel to it. The story is bookended with a girl coming to a military camp looking for her new boyfriend, who is a private on the base. Then the story shifts to the private being on guard duty with a corporal, and this is where the majority of the action takes place, in this one setting. And the story follows the rule of three multiple times, and even slips in an “O. Henry” twist at the climax of the “dumb” character being smart, and the “tough” character being a coward. Then we return back to the girl being informed that the private is in the hospital and she leaves the base.

    Nothing surprised me in this story. Literary structure and form handled badly can be formulaic, and Lee Chang-Dong avoided that. The character of the private is intriguing, and made a good protagonist, while the girl feels more like a woman from a Poe story; tragic and doomed to have her heart broken. The other characters are left to serve the structure of the story. Yet, there still was this purposeful disjointed feel to the story. That these worlds weren’t fitting together as they should, which created an underlining tension. I think the structure is what helped create that, functioning as foreshadowing since we know how this structure is supposed to work.

    Like I said, the story is okay. I didn’t feel like my time was wasted reading “Snowy Day,” but it wasn’t compelling either. What I liked in reading this was seeing an author that respected and knew how to use form and structure to tell a story.

  • Distracted Today

    I set a schedule for myself and I try to stick to it. Wednesday is the one day of the week that is all my own. I don’t have any chores to take care of, no obligations to the family other than dropping off and picking the kid up from school. Wednesday is the day that I read short stories, write a review of one, and then work on my other writing.

    But not today.

    Everything has felt a little off.

    It started like normal. Got the family up, kid off to school, and went to the gym. Got home, settled in on the couch with a coffee, and started making the rounds of reading short fiction online, and in magazines. And I read for two hours, about 8 different stories, but my mind kept pulling me out of what I was doing. I was having trouble focusing, you know, just an overall difficulty at completing the simple task of reading, and thinking about what I had just read.

    It was a malaise that was coming over and around me. I was doing something for myself, that I enjoy doing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should be doing something else. Something practical. Reading this morning started to feel like I was hiding out, avoiding, procrastinating away from what I should really be doing with my time.

    My mind wanted me to think about money and finances.

    We have a plan, which we have stuck to, but we hit a rough patch yesterday. Surprise medical bills, which delays our ability to pay down the debt. There is a chance that things could improve, but for the improvement to happen, I need to get a job.

    And that’s what is gnawing at me today; should I really be sitting around on the couch reading? Should I write a blog, when I should be updating my resume, searching Indeed?

    Clearly, I opted for the blog. I mean, I’m going to look for a job after lunch, and then get back to reading.

  • It Snowed

    It snowed last night. That was cool. We haven’t received any snow this year in NYC, and it feels really weird. I am aware that this might become the new normal for the region. Warmer than average temperatures, then a bomb blizzard, then back to above normal temps. When do we get to the point that this is now normal? I think you get there when all of the people who remember what it was like before have died off.

    Yikes! There’s your dark take on a Tuesday.

    The nice thing about our three inches of snow was that it made walking the kid to school an exercise of fun and excitement. She got to put on her snow shoes, which, obviously, she hasn’t had a chance to wear. And the best part was her walking in all the spots of fresh snow no one had touched yet. She was giddy, and I am sure it has made sitting in class today very difficult.

    For me, I feel like I have been granted the first season of the year. It really isn’t Winter around here until there is snow. You know. You need flowers in the Spring, heat in the Summer, and leaves changing in the Fall. It’s part of the deal. And the older I get, the more I need it to happen. The cliché is for old people to move South or West, get out of the cold and live in the heat. But I find myself running in the opposite direction. I want to see the passage of time, the cycle continue and renew.

    Let’s face it, as some people get older, they want to be as comfortable as possible, which makes complete sense. You have worked hard, now you want to relax and enjoy the final years, and be as predictably comfortable as possible. Not knocking it, and I may want that someday.

    But what I want now is to see the changes come. To count my Winters and Summers, and experience the seasons. Has being comfortable ever spurned growth? Maybe I’m not ready to stop the wheel of time in life. Maybe I need to see the passage of time to know that I have a place in it. (I’m putting a lot on these three inches of snow, I know that.) Maybe seasons remind me that there is something bigger than me out there.

    (Psst! If you enjoyed, pleas take a moment and give this post a “like.” I, ahh…, I need the algorithm to kick me up a notch. Thanks.)

  • The Kid has Learned Well

    Last week, I mentioned that the kid was off from school for her “Mid-Winter Break.” I do not know of a single parent in the City that finds this “break” enjoyable. It is a week of scrambling to find things for the kid to do, so she doesn’t sit in front of a screen the whole time. I think I did an okay job last week. She surely didn’t have less screen time, but she didn’t have more.

    I mean, I’m not an idiot here. I do understand that I am receiving a wonderful gift, which is getting to spend time with my kid, at an age where she still likes and respects me. (The clock is ticking until that goes away…) She is forming her own opinions on music, and movies, and books she wants to read. She is just now taking the first steps in trying to figure out the world around her, and where she fits in. Being a witness to that is a great fringe benefit of being a parent.

    The kid did pepper me with lots of questions last week about growing up in Texas during the 90’s, in the suburbs, where it was warm or hot all the time. Describing growing up outside of Dallas is a fascinating and odd tale that my daughter, with her urban New York City upbringing, has a hard time wrapping her head around. Of all the things I have told her, she finds it amazing that the D/FW area will totally shut down at the first sight of snow; Not a blizzard, or sub-freezing temperatures, but just the tiniest of snowflakes falling would wreck North Texas.

    I think my story telling had an effect on her, as this morning, when getting ready for school, she told me she wanted to dress like a “90’s kid.” I was puzzled, so I asked her what a “90’s kid” looks like? I was told “90’s kids” wear; light blue jeans, All-Star shoes, baggy long sleeve tee-shirts, and listen to cd’s.

    She wasn’t wrong.

    And I also find it rather amazing that my daughter so succinctly summed up a very formative decade of my life. The only way she could have been more on the money is if she wanted a pack of clove cigarettes and a beat-up paperback copy of Naked Lunch to read.