Tag: nostalgia

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business personal

Affected

My year still begins in September

An alfresco restaurant in downtown NYC.

My phone’s been ringing again. Nuthin steady, nuthin huge, a trickle, really. But it’s something. And after months of nuthin, something’s good.

It’s a bit odd, to be busy again with things for pure monetary exchange. The humdrum of work again.

But it’s a good thing; the cadence of waking up, making coffee – for two oftentimes – PB&J; or oatmeal, Good Morning America, and then…work?

Well, it’s hardly work yet. But it’s something.

Always said that my year begins in September. The rhythm of regularity. Am looking forward to it now more than in years.

It’s weird, to be excited for the coming monotony.

———-

September 11th again. Has it been eight years already?

Someone told me that I dwell too much on it considering I wasn’t “affected.”

Didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject. How can one explain what it’s like?

Location: same black chair; different room
Mood: busy
Music: Got me affected, spun me 1-80 degrees

Categories
personal

More Cowboys

Me on a toy

 

Me: Hey, step outside with me for a sec.
Him: Sure. What’s up?
Me: Just wanted to say thanks. When I was going through my breakup, thoughta what you told me about your divorce. How you came back one day to find an empty house. Was nice knowing that you survived the blow.
Him: (grinning) Glad I could help.
Me: Y’know, actually hoped it was you she was seeing behind my back. (laughing) Least you’re a decent fella, a successful lawyer and not half-bad looking.
Him: (laughing) Com’on, I think our ladies’re waiting.

Now, where were we?

A while back, wrote about cowboys. Seems every seven years, you lose more than half of your friends. The person you think of as your best friend only has a 30% chance of staying in that role.

One guy that made the cut was my buddy Steel; he got hitched in Central Park this past weekend. Appetizers included whole lobsters. That was the appetizer. Need to get invited to more weddings like that.

Steel’s like all of my good friends. Never really see them; we don’t interact much. But he knows that I’m onea the few people in the world he can always count on and vice versa. We’re different races but the same people.

That’s one of the main things about the Jaycee Dugard case makes me ill. Cause in addition to all of the sick things she had to go through – and they were seriously sick – she didn’t have her people. She didn’t have a family or friends. Real ones, I mean. What a terribly lonely way to go through life. Couldn’t sleep causa it.

Yet another reason, think I’m blessed – our dumb luck.

Speaking of blessed, thanks for the concern but said I was coming back, didn’t I?

If you read me, gotta think that there’s a good chance you’re onea my people too, yeah? Let’s face it, this is hardly an interesting blog and I’m not a scantily clad chick. But I suppose you read cause something I say makes sense to you.

Ergo, we gotta stick together.

Clumsy, geeky, optimistic dreamers’re rarer than y’might think in this world.

Lobster in Central Park!
Steel getting married

Location: 16:00 yest, my kitchen floor, scrubbing
Mood: concerned
Music: Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song

Categories
personal

…blue sea

Location: 22:00, yest, scrubbing my cellar
Mood: thoughtful
Music: there’s reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last

View of NYC from the Hudson.

Just found out an ex had another kid. A boy. And Germany’s on my mind again.

And other ghosts from my past keep making appearances.

Him: You’re so naive, Logan.
Me: The difference between you and me, is that I think people’re inherently bad, but can do great things. You think people’re inherently good – but y’like knowing how dirty they can become.
Him: (laughing) Alla these Europeans and Americans so pissed off about their white Christian children dying in Iraq and Somalia for brown Muslim babies; they got no problem saving white Muslim babies in Bosnia or Serbia. But man, brown ones? They go nuts. That is, until they can’t afford their plasma TVs.
Me: Enough…
Him: Why? Cause you know I’m right? The saying goes that, the things that piss you off the most (lowers voice) are the things you know, in your heart, are true.

There’s another saying that goes, it’s always a choice Between the Devil and the deep…

View of NYC from the Hudson.

(c) Aki Muira


YASYCTAI: Have a relaxing fourth of July if you’re on my side of the world. Y’should have even if you’re not. (48 hours/0.5 pts)

Categories
personal

Fading

Location: my basement for the past six hours
Mood: wet
Music: she caused a scene then every head turned


328 Chauncey Street now – not my pic, not my (c)

328 Chauncey Street, home of Ralph and Alice Kramden and Edward and Trixie Norton - NOT MY COPYRIGHT

If you’ve never clicked on my music link before, y’should do it today for something pretty cool per Caffeineguy.

———-

Still cleaning my cellar. Been weeks now. Feel like Sisyphus, cept I got a broom insteada a rock. Stupid broom…

Went to a wedding this past weekend. Someone spilled wine all over my suit. White wine, but still. Least the food was good.

Speaking of food, while at Columbia U., my fave joints were Ollie’s and The Mill. Right now, Ollie’s is a chaina Chinese restaurants while The Mill’s a Korean restaurant. But fifteen years ago, Ollie’s was an Italian joint with a sprinkling of Chinese food cause they had a Chinese chef. Similarly, the Mill was a Spanish joint with a Korean cook.

A boy could get some spaghetti and some Chinese dumplings at the former and tortillas and kimchi at the latter. Now they’re full-on Chinese and Korean joints. Yeah, there’re places like Marco Polo Cafe, with trendy Italian/Chinese fusion but I don’t want fusion.

I want authentic Italian spaghetti and authentic Chinese dumplings, yeah? Not the same.

Point is, all of the stuff I know, I mean I know, keeps fading on me. Jackie Gleason was the first when I was 14.

Funny story: did y’know the Honeymooner’s wife, Alice, spoke Chinese in real life? She and her sister were raised in China so it was their secret language. One spoke it to the other and the other understood.

In a way, that’s why the fading bothers me. Cause no one remembers Ollie’s when it was knife cool. Or what 328 Chauncy Street means. Or when MJ was still black and did the moonwalk for the first time on Motown 25.

Worry that I’m gonna run outta people to tell something to and have them understand.

Then I remember that I gotta finish sweeping the cellar and then I forget.

YASYCTAI: Alla the shows with the dumb husband and the smart wife started with the Honeymooners. Y’should watch it. (22 mins/0.5 pts)

Categories
business personal

Something to me

Sunset over Hoboken, NJ pier

Sorry I’ve not posted in a while, been hella busy. Moving from one part of my building to another. Thought it’d be easy but it’s not cause one collects a great deal of – for lack of a better word – crap in 36 years. Everything has a story to it; some stories I wanna relive, some I’d rather forget.

Suppose that’s hardly news to anyone.

See that pic above? You might have seen it before. Love that pic for reasons only I and another person might know. My pastor once said that you don’t love a picture because of the paper it’s printed on. You love a picture for what it represents.

And yeah, I try to donate or toss as much of my stuff as I can. But I got some ratty things that I love, not cause they’re worth something, but cause they’re worth some thing to me. So when the guy moving in picks something up and says, Hey can you bring the garbage over so I can toss this? I reply, Oh, gimme that, I’ll toss it.

And slip it into my back pocket to put it away later, safely behind all the other crap I love, not cause it’s worth something, but cause it’s worth some thing to me.

A ball at 583 Park Avenue

Last week, went to a genuine ball. Was a fundraiser event for Helen Keller International: $1,500 a plate, auctions going for $50,000. The full nine.

Sat at a table of lawyers and next to a pretty blond. $1,500 dinners are wasted on people like me; always think, Man, I could have made that better. Probably not true but it’s my head, I get to think what I wanna.

Had this cool British auctioneer that was going nuts; made me wanna bid for something. Couldn’t though, one trip to Umbria cost like $50K.

Managed to get semi-floated in; felt I should contribute something and I did, in my own way.

On the way there and back, got caught in the rain. It’s all just peaks and valleys, isn’t it?

So, you miss me?

HKI ball at 583 Park Avenue
Christie's auctioneer at Helen Keller's 583 Park Avenue Gala
HKI Umbia auction

Location: my new(ish) room
Mood: beat
Music: been looking so long at these pictures of you (Spotify)

Categories
personal

Swept Away

Location: my living room
Mood: cautious
Music: I know exactly how he feels

Nantes, France, at dusk.

Me: You’ll meet her Friday – don’t tell me what you think of her.
Him: Don’t tell you?
Me: No. Cause I think she’s amazing and don’t wanna hear it any other way.

Friday was Paul’s B-day so we headed down to our usual joint. Some shots, some rum, some conversation. The usual NYC twirl. Bumped into a curly-haired blond downtown and she said “Excuse you,” with a big toothy smile. I smiled back politely but slipped out the door with Heartgirl by 1AM.

Her: Your friends are nice. I can see why you’re friends with them. That’s not always the case.
Me: I’m 35. (pause) Got ridda mosta the jerks by now.

Spent mosta Saturday and all of Sunday by myself. Me time is always a good time. Chatted with PCD online for a bit.

PCD: You’re like an imaginary person now.
Me: I find that both funny and sad. Why is that?
Her: Because we aren’t real life friends
Me: Because we never see each other? (thinking) I try to see things from Heartgirl’s point of view, if there was a guy she liked a lot and saw him regularly, I’d be a little peeved. (pause) She knows I’d never cheat on her. But I also told her that you were kind and good and that kind and good people we should keep around. I do consider us real friends.
Her: I know. Just have a fun vacation, ok?

———-

Her: I kind of feel that I…I just got swept up in my own life. How weird is that? To get swept away by your own life?

At the party, met a friend that was easing into single life as I was easing out. One minute, I’m 27 and walking outta the Harbor Hotel in Beijing to a waiting car wearing Valentino and a Speedmaster. The next minute, I’m 33 and out both a girlfriend and all of my scratch. Then the next hot minute, I’m here. Telling my secrets to reeds and strangers. And thinking of a girlie I didn’t know existed before 4/7/2008.

The problem with being half-asleep all of time is that reality and dreams blur. There’ve been plenty of times I thought something was something, but just turned out to be a lotta nuthin. Kinda wonder if this’ll all just turn out to be nuthin at all. Man…that would suck.

Me: Yeah, I know what you mean.

———-

Supposed to be the coldest weather here in NYC in 15 years. But I’m leaving this week for sunnier climates and’ll, thankfully, miss it.

I’ll write when I can.

YASYCTAI: Get ridda mosta your jerks. Screw em. (time/3 pts)

Categories
personal

Potential


Her: Algebra – pretty much any math.
Me: I’m a terrible Asian; math was never a fun class for me. Mine were English and history. Some science was cool too – like when we dissected owl pellets. (pause) Did you ever have a trapper keeper?
Her: Yes.
Me: (thinking) Man, they sucked. Didn’t trap or keep a damn thing.
Think I’m sick. Not sure. But quite possibly.

It’s been a really productive week. Trying to wrap up business issues before the end of the year.

For what seems to be the third year in a row, I’ve not been able to really enjoy my favorite time of year; from the day before Thanksgiving to the day after New Year’s.

Wish I were clearheaded. Always cloudy cause I’m sick, I’m beat, or I’m bending time. Sometimes all three at once. Then my mind wanders.
Me: What if I’m not smart at all? What if I just remember things – stupid things. Things that’re only good for games shows and cocktail conversations? Smart people don’t get their life savings stolen. My brother and sister’re smart – I joke a lot that I get by on my charm. (pause) But what if that’s true?
Her: (thinking) I think you’re smart.
At least 50% of the time I don’t sleep, lie awake wondering. Everyone thinks I’ve got all this potential. But it’s almost 2009. I’m another year closer to getting my ticket punched.

When I don’t sleep, lie awake wondering about things that I’m afraid to put out in the aether.

Location: On a corduroy couch
Mood: sick
Music: Maybe I’ll sleep when I am dead But now it’s like the night is taking sides

Categories
personal

Glory Days

I know something you don’t know

Inigo Montoya: I admit it, you are better than I am.
Man in Black: Then why are you smiling?
Inigo Montoya: Because I know something you don’t know.

When you get beat up as often as I did as a kid, you either get all decked out in black and go Columbine, or you just learn how to fight. And for those of you that know me, I never do anything half-assed.

Bryson’s one of my best friends and was a striker like me. He outweighed me by 20-40 pounds but I was fast and flexible. We were always toe-to-toe. Until he started grappling. So I started too.

Then, a little after 9/11, I got injured. A kimura gone horribly wrong. Doc said I could either get surgery and lose 10% of my range of motion or rehab it and lose as little as 2%. Chose the latter. He said it’d take up to four years. It took seven. Stopped watching NHB stuff cause it made me sad. Didn’t wanna be one of those guys that spent his time talking about his glory days.

During those seven years, Bryson worked to the point that he’s a Pan-American Bronze Medalist. And he knew something his opponents didn’t – that as good as he was on the ground, he was even better on his feet. I knew that. My jaw knew that. Me? I stopped. Got fat. Settled down with a girlie.

The only place I’m still better than Bryson’s with a sword. But even then, he’s almost my match. We both know he’s better than me, he’s just too polite to ever say it. Some days, forget that I’m 35. Then my body reminds me. The last time I felt good about my right lead was in the mid-90s.

We spoke recently and he told me that he just got a similar injury. He finds out next week if he can roll again. I understood. Told him that he got seven years on me and he agreed. Small comfort, I know.

After we got off the phone, sat back and remembered when we weren’t old men. Instead, we’re in the muddy backyard of my college house. He’d swing on by, we’d laugh. Then we’d knuckle up and roll.

Man in Black: And what is that?
Inigo Montoya: I…am not left-handed.

Location: my parent’s living room
Mood: nostalgic
Music: hope when I get old I don’t sit around thinking about it

Categories
personal

Safe

A letter to my grandmother

 

Dear Grandma;

Went home last night because mom wanted to talk. She told me stories I already know but wanted to hear again, mainly because they’re so hard to believe.

Like how your mom sold you for seven dollars when you were three because she had no money. And that when you heard your mom died three years later, you ran away to change her clothes because you didn’t want her to be dressed in rags when they buried her.

I think when I was six, all I wanted in life was more food. I’m 35 now and I still think of food way too much. Well, you remember how fat I was…

Mom cried again when she got to the part where you came back and they beat you. She said you didn’t deserve such a hard life. No one does.

But you were tough. Mom’s tough like you. She thinks I get my temper from you, which, by the way, I’m working on. I told her it was probably more from my lack of sleep. Speaking of sleep, I thought of a line that goes: We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. But I digress…

I do think that I got my eyes from you. Oh, and Aki and I have this weird talent I think we get from you too; mom says that if you ever saw anyone knit something, you could recreate it. well, Aki can play any song he hears on the piano and I can do something similar with a sword – which is admittedly pretty useless but is good cocktail conversation.

Been meaning to say I’m sorry – again. That I broke my promise to you. It keeps me up at night, the regret. It eats me. As does the fact I couldn’t go to say goodbye. Yours was the only promise I’ve broken in years, I think. I had a really good reason – I’ll tell you about it some time.

Mom says that your funeral was packed – even your real father’s entire family came. Because you loved them even though there was no reason for you to. I meet a lot of wealthy people here in the big city but they’re all labels and show. I know it’s wrong, but I feel it’s somehow cosmic justice that you ended up more successful than all of them.

You know, mom made the right choice coming here, she really did. The best thing about this corner of the world is that no one ever asks what we come from, only where we’re going. But I don’t forget what I came from. Who I came from. In fact, I don’t forget anything.

I guess the main thing is that I wanted you to know that your oldest daughter’s safe. You can rest because mom’s safe. We’re all safe.

Really.

You would have been 87 today. I pray that you get the grace and mercy in the next life that you didn’t get in this one. Happy birthday.

L

Location: home
Mood: indescribable
Music: All your grief At last, at last behind you

Categories
personal

Elsewho

Dreaming of my possible pasts

© Roy A. Hammond/WLIW New York

Rain: Can I borrow your phone?
Me: (absentmindedly) Sure.
Rain: Here you go.
Me: Thanks. Hey – what’d you do?
Rain: Nuthin! So paranoid…

My mind’s elsewhere, and elsewho, again. At least it’s the weekend.

I’m in a 300 year old building in Passau that’s been converted to apartments. The ceilings are high with wooden floors and painted on the entire far wall is a pop art portrait of a blond girl crying. Honey and Katherine are there. We’d just gotten back from Vienna. A woman I love is there too. She whispers her nonsense word into my ear and I whisper mine back. We’re having an early dinner of pasta when Marvin Gaye comes on.

Honey shrieks, and jumps onto the table to dance when my girl pulls me up and says, “You too” as I laugh and follow. She smiles, turns back to me and says – (phone alarm rings, it’s 5:15AM in NYC)

Me: (sit up and look groggily at phone) Dammit Rain…dammit…

Fall back into bed and plot revenge against Rain. Sigh. Toss off covers. Flip on Ghosts of Goodbye and start doing situps as ghosts fade away.

Eins, zwei, drei…

Location: 19:00 yest, Malachy’s with Heidi and Buckley
Mood: sotted
Music: I used to go out to parties and stand around