Blog

  • I Did the Minimum, Now Reward Me!

    I went to the gym this morning. Now, someone tell me how great I am! That’s right, I went to the gym. This is a big moment in my life as I; One, have never gone to a gym before, and Two, I have been paying for a gym membership since December and just now used it. I think the people who run the gym were happy, but also, disappointed that I showed up this morning.

    That’s right, in my forty-five years, I never set foot into a gym. In fact, the last time I was in a locker room, was seventh grade when I was thirteen. (Not much has changed, as I kept my eyes down and tried not to look at anyone.) But grown up me had to admit that I have put on twenty-five pounds in the last year and a half. I know that I will never get back down to my fighting weight when I was thirty, but I need to take better care of myself.

    That’s the world I occupy now; I don’t need to look good and trim; I just need to not die earlier than usual.

    And for that, bask in the warm glow of my bare-minimum effort with zero results!

    This reminds me of a story. I had a friend that, if he had a particularly good workout, he would reward himself with a donut on his walk home, but ONLY if the donuts were fresh and hot. I asked him if there was ever a time that he found the donuts were not fresh and hot? He told me, no, that he never encountered that situation. I did suggest that he eat the donut on the way to the gym, this was he would gain a net zero, and not undo the workout, so to speak. He didn’t like that idea.

    Anyway, I’m looking to go back on Thursday, and see if I can keep two days a week going.

    But, we’ll see.

  • Fight Through It

    It’s just a rainy day in New York. I would like to be reading a book on the couch right now, but I still have chores to do. Not a complaint, just the reality of being an adult.

    But speaking of acting like an adult; I seem to have stopped going to bed on time. I was doing pretty good for a while, getting to bed by 11:30pm. But for the past three days, I have returned to staying up late and watching TV. “Solar Opposites” seems to be my new obsession. I am able to watch about two episodes, but then I fall asleep.

    This has left me feeling very tired, and I think I need a nap.

    I need to fight through it.  

  • ODDS and ENDS: Farewell Dele Alli, Spring Time, and The Gym

    (Just some sketches of ideas.)

    This past week, during the transfer window in the Premier League, Tottenham made some moves – trading, loaning and acquiring players. In all the action, Dele Alli went to Everton. I know that Dele hasn’t been playing his best since he came back from injury, which meant his days were numbered, but still, I did feel bad to see him go. When I first started following Tottenham, it Fall 2015, it was Dele’s first season with the Spurs, so I felt like we came into the league together. (Yes, I know that makes no logical sense.) I hope he gets back to form, and does well at Everton.

    Well, it happened to me this morning when I was taking the kid to school. It was raining and 37 degrees, and soon the City is going to be iced over, and I said the words, “I can’t wait for Spring.” Sure, it’s freezing out, and I bet we’ll get a blizzard before the seasons is done, but I am now ready for it to warm up. If you aren’t sure, around July 4th is when I will start saying how excited I will be for Fall. And you know, I like this cycle. I like to know that at the moment I get feed up with a season, the change isn’t far away. I like the rhythm of it all. Even the rhythm of the complaining.

    I still haven’t gone to the gym yet. I have been paying on a membership for two months, still haven’t used it. Go Me!

  • Short Story Review: “Long Distance,” by Aysegul Savas

    (The short story “Long Distance,” by Aysegul Savas, appeared in the January 31st, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Sometimes it’s nice to read a love story. And sometimes it’s also nice to read a love story about “relationships where you get jerked around,” to quote the Fortune Teller from The Simpsons. When it came to Aysegul Savas’ story “Long Distance,” it’s a love story about two people who try not to jerk each other around, but might be jerking each other around.

    This was a story that seemed like it could have been published in Collier’s back in the 50’s, as it sort of had the casualness of a Post-War world where American’s came and went in Europe, like visiting a farm upstate – free of the burdens the rest of the world is dealing with. The story is basically about Lea, a student doing a semester of research in Rome, and her male gentleman friend (I don’t think he is ever referred to as a boyfriend) Leo, coming to visit her from California. Their relationship is new, starting just before she left for Rome, and has consisted of phone calls and emails. There is a large anticipation on Lea’s part, and when Leo arrives, the two never seems to line up their intentions, especially when it comes to a story about an elderly woman Leo met on his flight to Rome.

    I am a fan of the short story with subtle and small events that have impactful ramifications to character’s lives, even to the point where the reader understands the importance though the characters may not. That’s what I think this story was aiming for, and I feel it succeeded at that goal. I understood Lea’s high expectations for Leo’s visit, and how when each miscommunication occurs, she feels more insecure that the trip will be a failure. The story is from her point of view, as she is the only character we get internal thoughts from, so we have to take Leo’s words and actions, and figure out what is his truth. I like that Savas structured his story in that way, as it doesn’t make Leo’s true intentions the focus, but rather Lea’s decision on what she thinks is Leo’s true intention are. For that reason, I feel the story stuck its landing.

  • My Little Apartment

    I just might spend my whole life in this little Harlem apartment. As funny as that sounds, this is a new thought for me. I have lived in this apartment for fourteen years, and I have always thought that one day, we would leave this place for another apartment, or miracle of miracles, a house. This apartment was always seen as a stepping stone to something else.

    But you know what… after fourteen years, I think I am coming around to see that this apartment is my home, and I will always have this place as my home.

    Sure, it’s tiny. In fact, it is very tiny. Two little bedrooms, a small kitchen, an even smaller bathroom. Two adults, a kid and a dog live in its confines, and if you add one more adult in the space, the apartment feels over-crowed, like it will explode, but what you are actually feeling is the anxiety of people being on top of each other.

    Yet, we are next to two subway lines. And a park. And a library. The kid’s school is walking distance and it’s a pretty good school. We like our neighbors in the building, and a police and fire station aren’t too far away either. We have made the apartment cozy, and each person has their own space to relax.

    Just wish we got more sunlight in the place.

    Maybe we might get a place upstate. Maybe a small farm house with a root cellar, and a place we can put all of our books. Maybe have enough land for the dog to run, and an old fieldstone wall cutting through the property. Maybe, one day.

    But in my little apartment, we have marked the kid’s height on the wall. The apartment is near a grocery store, and a place where me and the wife can get a dozen oysters on the half shell, and a pretty decent dirty martini.

    Maybe I will stay her forever after all.