Tag: #Suburbs

  • A Home in the Country

    We are going to get out of the City for a long weekend, and I think it is long overdue. I could be wrong on this, but I don’t believe we have slept outside of our apartment since June 2020. A good friend of ours has a little house upstate. It’s in a small subdivision of a neighborhood, and has all the feelings and trappings of suburban bliss, from about 1970. The family friend is out of town, and has offered the house to us. We jumped on the opportunity.

    When we stay at this house, or when we Airbnb/VRBO a house that is in a neighborhood, I play this game in my mind of wondering what my life would be like in the suburbs? I have lived in New York City now for fifteen years, and I am thoroughly City-ized. And by that, I mean, I can live in a very tiny space, and have people on top of me all the time. Having lots of space is now very foreign. Could I function with so much room?

    It reminds me of a story. We have some friends who used to live in NYC. They owned a small one-bedroom apartment, and when their kid was born, they knew they had to move. Very fortunate for them, their tiny apartment sold very well, which allowed them to move out to the country and buy a house. When we went to visit them after their move, their modest house was sparsely filled with furniture, and pictures on the wall. “We have more house than stuff,” they told us, “but we don’t want to buy stuff just to fill it up.” Their house is still scantly decorated.

    I think we would also have a home with nothing in it, a little Scandinavian Style. (You know I have an IKEA fascination, right?) I’m not excited about owning a house, but the older I get, I find myself wanting a yard. Well, a back yard actually. Not so much for me, but for the kid. A backyard and an imagination is a pretty awesome thing to have as a kid.

  • Personal Writing History; The Abbey Writers

    At least my life has been colorful, and has gone is some different directions. I say that because, at one point in my life, I thought it best at 19 to drop out of college and try my hand working low paying jobs, and become a professional writer. I was lucky enough at the time to have several friends around me that all worked equally low paying jobs, and also had artistic ambitions.

    One of my good friends, let’s call him John, was also an aspiring writer as well. We had been best friends since 9th grade, and since then we had read each other’s stories. One late night, over cigarettes and coffee at a 24-hour IHOP, one of us came up with the idea that we should professionally write together, like a band. So, like any good band, we had to come up with a good name. We thought “The Abbey Writers” was a great choice. It was based off our favorite album, Abbey Road, and it also made us seem like a group of monks. Right, that’s cool?

    It was a fun time, and we were able to put together a collection of short stories called, “Double-Jointed Mythology.” I have a copy of it locked in my storage space, and I haven’t looked at it in maybe 20 years. What I can remember of it was that we were trying to take a snap shot of life in the suburb we grew up in, and the disconnection between the world we were promised as kids, and the disappointment we found as adults in that artificial town. (Say, that sounds a lot better than what I think we wrote.) We even did a photo shoot with a photographer friend for what we thought would be needed on the dust jacket.

    What can I say? The publishing world didn’t have a need for us. We tried but never could get any of the short stories published, and this was back in the day when submissions required a self addressed stamped envelope. I think we tried for two years, but after awhile, rejection begins to weigh on us. I don’t think we ever “broke up” as a writing collective, but just drifted to other things, and worked on other projects.

    But I still think it was a good idea.

  • 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.