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Companionship

Someone to sit and eat with

The word companion comes from late Latin, with com meaning with and panis meaning bread.

Essentially, a companion is someone with whom you do these daily mundane things, like sitting down and eating.

When my wife first got sick, I slept on the floor next to her hospital bed for a week. Said I did it because I didn’t want her to be alone, which was true. But equally true was that I didn’t want to be alone either.

Nurse: You can’t sleep here.
Me: (lying down) Let’s find out.

I’m sorry for the lack of updates – especially to those that have so generously donated.

On December 10th, Alison was unresponsive so we rushed her to the hospital. There, the doctors had to remove part of her skull to save her life. They said she might not survive the night. I fell to my knees.

But she survived. Then she had another surgery just a week later. That’s three brain surgeries in a month, just days after giving birth.

To say that my wife is crazy tough is like saying that New York City is a small town. She’s made of steel.

Unfortunately, she’s been in the hospital since the 10th and will be for quite a while. I’m there most days; other days, other relatives are with her.

This is not how we imagined our first Christmas and New Year’s as a family.

Still, I go to the hospital and have bread with her when she’s able. When she’s not, I just sit there. And we dream of home.

She would do the same for me, because she’s my companion and I’m her’s.

Me: (arriving, breathless) Hey, beautiful.
Her: Hey.

Location: The same hospital room, still looking at the same river
Mood: still heartbroken
Music: Somedays I’m built of metal, I can’t be broken. But not when I’m with you

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Bookending

I’m in a funny place, mentally

Child's Birthday Cake
February’s over and it’s been heady.

It was strange in that there were two children’s birthday parties and one death. The children are young: one’s my nephew, who turned one; the other, my niece, who turned two. The death was that of a college buddy about my age, 43.

It was the first time I’d been to any child’s birthday party since I was a kid. And the death was the first time someone I knew well, who was my age, passed.

In any case, my nephew’s birthday party was in Queens, my niece’s was in NJ. It was bitterly cold both days. The kind where every inhale burns the inside of your lungs.

And for the one in NJ, got the added bonus of being caught in a snowstorm so that meant a slow crawl home.

All that traveling gives a fella time to think.

Thought mainly of the bookending of life in these events: Two children starting their journey in the world, one young man finishing his.

Wonder how the children will spend the time they’ll have; wonder how I’ll spend the time I have left.

Clock in West Village, NYC

Oddly, my brother called me last night talking about that very subject.

Told him that I’m pretty content with my life. Wish I had more scratch and less injuries, but, on the whole, I don’t have a ton to complain about. After all, I won the lottery where it really counts.

But I’m turning 42 in less than two months, which makes me think about my own life more and more. I suppose I’ll tell you about that some day.

Of course, it’s all time and tide. We just don’t know what either will bring us.

But, I hope good things.

Man at the birthday party: Have a safe trip home, old man.
Me: (leaving) That’s just cruel.

Children's cupcakes (purple)

Location: yesterday, crawling to the Lincoln Tunnel
Mood: thoughtful
Music: away from you, it froze me deep inside. So come back

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Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

Going down memory lane

William Street Subway Station NYC

Because I have all these deadlines, been all over the city the past few weeks again.

Similarly, my brother, who’s in town, has been driving around a few miles north of the city for a bit.

He actually managed to stop by where we grew up and took a buncha photos while he was up there, all of which took my breath away. Haven’t seen these places in 30+ years.

One picture stands out in my mind though, this one here. It’s panoramic so you can see what my street was like.

Here’s why it sticks out; that building is new but I still recognize the street and the entrance towards it. And I remember it clearly because my parents – who had no money for anything – would bring us there for our recreation.

To me, it was the the most exciting place on the planet for a six year old. I think I would go nuts at the prospect of going.

We would sit and read for hours. I suspect my mom left us there for a while because she figured no one would wanna kidnap two Chinese nerds.

But that was fine by me.

I wonder how much those years influenced my life. The sitting by my lonesome and just reading. My brother is the same way.

I’m looking forward to finishing up this spate of work for a number reasons – like to spend time with my wife and friends.

But I also want to sit by my lonesome and finish up a book I’ve been reading for a while now.

The more things change, yeah?

Location: my desk for now
Mood: nostalgic
Music: I may find myself delayed on the road to New Orleans

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Focusing on the finish line with Lillian

Finishing up with some work soon

NYC subway door entrance

For those of you that celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope it was a nice one.

Didn’t do much, myself – went home that day to see the fam and came back that day. Trying to get a handle on all this work I have.

I see the finish line, though.

Friday is the last of the largest projects I have with some smaller ones wrapping up in the middle of December.

Been working on this portfolio of stuff for the past five or six weeks. I’m pretty mentally drained.

Being so close, though, seems to make time stretch out longer. I think it’s because I start focusing on the finish line instead of the work itself.

Ever hear of this lady named Lillian Alling?

Seems she came here to NYC from Russia when she was a kid and, in 1927, decided she had enough of the Big Apple – something I wrestle with myself – and the rest of America. So she decided to go home.

But she had no scratch and no means to get there.

Unbelievably, she decided to walk back to Russia. From New York. Her feet were her only carriage.

She walked from NYC to Chicago, then through Canada. The last record of her was in 1929, when she was Nome, Alaska.

Seems she was there trying to get someone to give her a boat ride across the Bering Strait, where I assume we was gonna continue to walk until she got home.

Dunno if she made it.

I do know, however, that she probably made it that far by just focusing on the individual task at hand, which was putting one foot in front of the other.

And not dying, I suppose.

Which brings me back to my tasks at hand. Trying to focus but I just want it to be Christmas already, and my work to be done.

It’s hard to stop staring, once you see it. The finish line.

Wonder if Lillian ever got to see home, or if she died with her feet facing home.

In my head, I like to think she made it home.

Mussels at Arte Cafe in NYC, UWS

On the flip side, my brother’s in town with his new girl and he took me out to eat twice – well, him once and his girl once.

One of the times was Shake Shack. Some of the best burgers on the planet – unfortunately, everyone seems to know that so that’s why I almost never got even though it’s only a few minutes from home.

I really gotta stop thinking of food all the time.

Shake Shack burger and fries in UWS

Location: Jersey
Mood: anxious
Music: My feet is my only carriage, so I’ve got to push on through

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Thanks for the quiet weekends

Veterans Day Weekend 2014

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

It was a quiet weekend here in the big city; tomorrow is Veteran’s Day in America so a lot of people – myself included – took today off from work.

Didn’t do all that much; went and saw my mom and then took a trip out to my wife’s family as well.

And I baked cookies – a lotta cookies.

A quiet weekend and I’m grateful for the men and women that do what they must so the rest of us can have quiet weekends.

Hope you had the same.

Location: the burbs
Mood: sympathetic
Music: To distant shore with the gifts they were given
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Everything is easy once someone shows you how

Bart-Oh-Low-May-Day and the Egg

Egg of Columbus from WikiCommons
(c) Wikicommons

Today is Columbus Day here in the States and for years, I rolled my eyes at people that felt it should be renamed. Tradition and whatnot.

Then someone sent me this Oatmeal comic, which I found pretty eye-opening. Ended up doing some more reading and he really was a horrible human being.

So now I’m in the other camp and agree that the name – although not the holiday itself – should be reconsidered.

Still, there’s this apocryphal story I like about him, which is called the Egg of Columbus.

The story goes that a buncha dudes were sitting around Columbus and essentially saying that, at some point, someone from Europe would have “found” America.

Columbus ignores them and, instead, asks for an egg.

He says to the men, “Stand this egg up one side.” The men can’t. So he then takes it, cracks the bottom of it, and then stands it up.

Then he says something like, Everything is easy once someone shows you how.

I imagine he then throws the deuce, flips the table over, tells them all the screw themselves, and says, peace out.

My brother did something similar when I was a little kid – the balancing the egg part.

I couldn’t figure it out and then he took some salt, poured it on the table, and sat the egg up in that. Some 30 years later, and I still remember it.

Speaking of which, he figured out how to save (most of) the pictures from my camera card.

Smart fella, my brother. Everything is easy once someone shows you how.

Now off to work – no Bartolomé/Indigenous People Day for this fat boy.
UFC Fighter Angela Hill at Formerly Crows

Here’s one of the few pictures that made it through – with Angela Hill from the UFC.

Location: The New World
Mood: excited
Music: baby, as long as skies are blue
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My Father and the Cherry Trees

Returning home stronger

Washington DC, Monument from Lincoln

Him: Is everything ok with you? Can I help you with anything?
Me: I’m fine dad, really.

Saw my pop the other day. He’s getting on in years and I worry about him. He’s a short guy but I remember as a kid that he seemed huge to me. Now that he’s older, he seems even smaller.

His birthday’s coming up soon and I’m trying to wrap my head around just how much older he actually is. I forget at times. After all, parents are simply just your parents – it’s hard to see them as anything else.

And I suppose the opposite is true as well; parents look at their children as naked helpless things.

It worries me just how much he worries about us. It doesn’t matter how much money we might make nor how secure we are in life, parents will always worry, I suppose.

Had to dash to a meeting so I didn’t have too much time to spend with him. But I wanted to tell him a story. Since I didn’t have time to tell him, I’ll tell you.

In 1912, the Mayor of Tokyo sent a gift of Japanese cherry trees to Washington DC as a symbol of friendship. A total of 3,020 from a famous group of trees along the Arakawa River in Tokyo were planted in West Potomac Park.

Then World War II happened. The relationship went to hell and only healed afterward.

In 1956, it was discovered that the cherry trees of the Arakawa River were badly damaged, most likely due to the war. So the US donated some of the cherry trees that they were given. They were the same stock – the very same family – of trees from 1912. But they were stronger than the original stock. They could flourish when the original trees that never left could not.

I wrote once to my grandma when she passed to not worry so much about my mom. She was safe here.

And to my pop, I want him to know we are too. We’re safe.

Because sometimes when you send things out into the world, they return home stronger.

Perhaps one day I’ll have children of my own. And I’ll send them off into the world.

I’ll try not to worry about them too much but I’m sure I will.

But I hope they return home someday, stronger than when they left.

Him: I worry about all of you.
Me: I know you do, dad. You don’t have to.

Location: yesterday, lunch with my dad
Mood: nostalgic
Music: Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song
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Wondering about the burbs

Maybe someday I’ll move from here

Statue of couple in Riverside Park NYC
Last week was a bevy of activity because a tenant in my building found bedbugs in his unit.

Because I still manage the building, I was involved with the process every step of the way. That was annoying and a massive time suckage for me. So, despite having a number of meetings with clients and the usual workload, I kept having to run back home to handle hysterical owners and irritated tenants.

It’s enough to make me think of moving to the burbs – in fact, I dropped an email to my old college buddy who bought into the building with me years ago, but later moved out of the city.

He says he has no regrets.

Thankfully, the building’s bedbug situation was resolved fairly quickly so I was back in a New York (City) state of mind.

Still, we do talk about it, the wife and I. Maybe someday leaving the concrete jungle for some green grass and shade. But then we’d probably find ourselves with just each other. Which might not be a bad thing.

Me: Don’t be silly, I love everything about you.
Wife: Tell the truth.
Me: I love most things about you.
Her: There you go.

Location: a building without bedbugs
Mood: relieved
Music: folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood

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personal

First thing you do, buy yourself a whoopee cushion…

The Lighthouse and the Whaler

Bryant Park, NYC in Summertime
Met up with my boss and my buddy Johnny at The William the other night. We had some business to discuss.

Me: We’ve known each other 20 years. This may be the first time we’re working together.
Johnny: You’re the only person left I trust. I couldn’t let money come between us.
Me: That’s the thing. Money’s not my primary purpose. I’m interested in things money can’t buy.
Him: Wait two years. I gotta settle a few things.
Me: I know. It’s been 20 years. I can wait two more.


The weekend was hot so my computer kept crashing.

So I put on some tunes – like Venice by The Lighthouse and the Whaler – pulled it apart, and isolated the problem to a faulty fan.

While I was in there, attempted to swap out the CPU but that didn’t work because I didn’t have the right parts.

Still, was pretty proud that I still knew how to troubleshoot technology; I used to build networks and computer professionally before I became a lawyer.

Me: (to wife) I figure if everything goes to hell, I could always go back and be a computer guy. The only question would be how to start getting rid of my most annoying clients.
Her: First thing you do, buy yourself a whoopee cushion…

Location: Fall in NYC, I think
Mood: ambitious
Music: I have seen all the feeling and the rains
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Conversations with the wife and politics

Putin knew what he was working with

New York Historical Society - Old Police Equipment

Felt rough all week; my leg was swollen like a sausage and I was under the weather. So I stayed home one day, put on my most comfortable, ratty tee-shirt and what can only be described as capris for men.

I’m not (terribly) proud.

The wife saw me puttering around and pulled me close, nuzzled me, and gave me a kiss. She then pulled away and looked me deeply in my eyes.

“You look like a homeless person,” she said.

———-
On a more somber note, the news is full of what’s going on in Israel and Ukraine. On the former, it’s a complex subject and one I’m not qualified to address, although I have my own particular views on the matter.

On the latter, however, I read with interest how Putin is publicly shocked at what’s gone on despite being actively involved in the unrest in Ukraine since the first day. Which immediately recalled to mind a story I once told you years ago.

Putin’s been working with murderous thugs for years and he’s suddenly surprised when they start acting like murderous thugs.

He knew what he was working with when he started.

Location: home, with an ice pack
Mood: old
Music: Tell my wife I love her very much (she knows!)
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