Tag: #Changes

  • Trouble Getting in Gear

    The third of January was the day I was going to get my life started on the right foot. Also, I thought God needed more laughter in his day. Either way, I had spent part of my Christmas vacation thinking about my daily schedule, what I wanted to get accomplished, and being healthy and shit. You know, like most people do at the end of the year. I talked to the wife about it, as some of this would affect her as well, and I have come up with a system that will work.

    First of all, I needed to set out my goals, again, no real surprise there. I want to write more, eat better, sleep better, more active role in the kid’s education, and… yeah, I think that’s it. Really, it’s like rolling goals.

    Anyway, I set out a schedule, and if you know me, again, no surprises here. I made time for chores, and the gym, and writing. Working with the kid, making dinner, and you get the point. I over scheduled myself, and I’m okay with that. As of this moment, I haven’t worked on any fiction though that will be remedied today, and I haven’t been to the gym, but that’s a Friday thing. So, all is going to plan.

    With the exception of this blog. Other than the little New Year’s post, I haven’t created anything for this platform. I have some stories I could review, and God knows I have enough silly opinions I can’t wait to share, but I found myself lacking the motivation to post. I am posting today, so it’s not like I am in a debilitating situation. Just… not feeling it.

    I might be maligned due to the ending of a vacation, or could ramming your head into a wall constantly for two years have an adverse effect on determination? Maybe more changes are needed?

    Maybe I just need to get to work.

  • Construction Out the Back Window

    When I look out the back window of my apartment, I see a huge condo tower being built. Eventually, it will block my view of the City, and all I will see will be this condo tower, unless I lean out the window and look to the right, then I will be able to see other parts of New York.

    I knew this building was coming. I had watched as the lots that are occupied by this growing tower were bought, and chain linked fences were put up. Then a coming soon board went up, followed by the work permits displayed on a plywood wall. After that, a temporary worksite office was put on the sidewalk. At the start of the year, a backhoe arrived and started digging out the lot. There was a break at the end of February, after the foundation was poured. I thought that work had been stopped because of Covid, but then in August, workers came back and they haven’t stopped building.

    This is progress, right? Manhattan real estate is too valuable, right? The world is always changing, right?

    I find it odd that with so many people leaving the City, that they are moving forward with building more luxury condos, but maybe these guys know something that I don’t. Maybe they are playing the long game? Hold out long enough, and things will change in your favor. Maybe.

    But looking out my back window, it doesn’t feel like progress. It feels like an intrusion. Like an outpost is being built, and we are about to be colonized.

  • Cowardly Writer

    A friend of mine, who I haven’t spoken to in over a year was awarded a grant so she could continue on her novel without having to look for a job at the end of the world. She is super talented, completely deserves it, and I’m very happy for her. The thing that piqued my interest was that my friend gave thanks to another author, who had informed her of the grant, when they had first meet at a writing symposium.

    As in all things it’s who you know.

    I know I have to have material in the first place; finish the novel, finish the story collection

    But, I think I know people. But I can’t bring myself to ask for advice or help.

    This is cowardly, but I think I’m afraid of my friends hating my work. I know I’m not in a place to share, but I can’t stay this way forever, as in my work will never see the light of day. I will never grow if I don’t open myself up.

    The journey is getting a little uncomfortable now…

  • What Will We Remember from This?

    I had a video chat with a good friend the other day, who lives in Kansas City. He has a three-year-old son, and any day now, will have a newborn on his hands. Besides talking about the general insanity of the world, we started comparing notes of how we have been surviving with cuts to our income. I being laid off, and he having his salary cut. We both have been finding ways to make food last as long as possible, and we throw nothing out. We both joked to each other that we sounded like our grandparents talking about living through The Great Depression.

    When I was little and did ask my grandparents about the Depression, and mind you all of them were in their early 20’s when it happened, they all sort of laughed it off, but also, they did talk about not having a whole lot of money, and making every dime last. I especially remember all of them telling me that thy learned how to fix everything if it broke.

    I might have grandkids one day, and they might ask me about this, but what I really wonder about, and so did my good friend, was what will our little kids take away from this? My five-year-old knows that there was a lifestyle before Covid, and she is already telling me she can’t wait to return to normal when Covid is over. But is she going to remember the anxiety, the uncertainty and the feeling of discord from around the country? How much of this daily, just dumb fuckery will stick in her mind? How will this influence her for the rest of her life? For my grandparents, the Depression made them thrifty, inventive, and they had a sense of common purpose with all Americans to solve big problems.

    I hope we can do the same.

  • Coronavirus: Moving Out of NYC

    Coronavirus: Moving Out of NYC

    I know that I am not the first person to talk about this, but it does need to be repeated; the amount of people moving out of New York City is enormous, and just might have a terrible effect on the City.

    Today, another neighbor moved out of our building. Yesterday, a neighbor also moved out. Last month, the first tenant in left on the top floor. There are only twelve apartments in our building, so we are 25% vacant. In better times, an empty apartment here would be taken in a matter of days. As soon as one person moved out, the place would be cleaned and painted, and another person would be moving in.

    Our building isn’t alone. In our neighborhood, I counted two moving trucks Sunday, three on Saturday, and another three on Friday. On July 3rd, the first weekend of the month, I counted six moving trucks. Now, I do this count when I walk the dog in the morning, so I have no idea how many other people are moving themselves over the course of the day. And that’s only in a five-block radius around our place.

    When it comes to this, what has been making the news around here is the amount of rich and middles class families that are leaving New York for the suburbs and upstate. What has not been making the news is all the young people, who moved here to start their careers and live their dreams ,are moving back home. I know its kids moving out because the moving vans aren’t big, and the furniture they are throwing out is crappy.

    If all of these young people leave, and most of them are in the theatre arts, it will have, I fear, a dreadful impact. Yes, most actors wait tables, but I was a temp when I started here. I did dull filing and office work. Where are the temps going to come from to do that when the City does open up? They are also the diehard audience members, and they also are the new ideas. This virus might cause a huge creativity hole for a generation of theatre.