Wildlife in NY on the Highline

Wildlife in NY on the Highline

Last night's beautiful sunset

Last night's beautiful sunset

TGI Friday! dare to bare your flare!

So after a friend initiated an uproar on FB by posting plans for a TGI Fridays setting a home in Union square, I like many others, felt depressed and cheated once more. I feel that New York has officially become the Midwest.
A city that once prided itself as the anti-sprawl, has become a strip mall. Gone are the days of social revolution, confrontational art, liberal and off-putting honesty and beliefs.
Artists, writers, and musicians once compromised the safety and security of their hometowns to live among the junkies, and urban abandonment, the crime and grim to thrive off their peers; the believers, doers, thinkers and drinkers.
Welcome to the mainstream. There used to be validation to paying high rents, living in the size of our teenage bedrooms. I am no longer validated by living in an ‘epicenter’ when there are more baby strollers than bars, more gyms than clubs, and more chain restaurants than rats, I’m out.
The architecture may remain archaic,but nothing else.
There is no edge. Young people no longer come here with a purpose, they come here to shop at Abercrombie and Hollister.
The suburban, mind-numbing twits that come in from LI, NJ bring nothing to this city. A few years ago we escaped to Brooklyn to find refuge, now there are more baby boutiques than there are $12.00 packs of bodega cigarettes! Because being a Mother today means that you are the Madonna, which entitles her to snip other’s heels with her 2 coffee cup holder, and cell phone charger equipped mega stroller while they breeze off to “Whole Foods” where you spend your “Whole” pay check, while the rest us chumps shop out of our own age bracket at Trader Joes. And who can even be bothered with that West coast crap when we really only eat out any way.
Anyway, in my tangent, what I am trying to relay is that I’m bored, and now trying to figure out why it is I continue to compromise as much as I do for what I left behind me in the first place!

TGI Friday! dare to bare your flare!

So after a friend initiated an uproar on FB by posting plans for a TGI Fridays setting a home in Union square, I like many others, felt depressed and cheated once more. I feel that New York has officially become the Midwest.
A city that once prided itself as the anti-sprawl, has become a strip mall. Gone are the days of social revolution, confrontational art, liberal and off-putting honesty and beliefs.
Artists, writers, and musicians once compromised the safety and security of their hometowns to live among the junkies, and urban abandonment, the crime and grim to thrive off their peers; the believers, doers, thinkers and drinkers.
Welcome to the mainstream. There used to be validation to paying high rents, living in the size of our teenage bedrooms. I am no longer validated by living in an ‘epicenter’ when there are more baby strollers than bars, more gyms than clubs, and more chain restaurants than rats, I’m out.
The architecture may remain archaic,but nothing else.
There is no edge. Young people no longer come here with a purpose, they come here to shop at Abercrombie and Hollister.
The suburban, mind-numbing twits that come in from LI, NJ bring nothing to this city. A few years ago we escaped to Brooklyn to find refuge, now there are more baby boutiques than there are $12.00 packs of bodega cigarettes! Because being a Mother today means that you are the Madonna, which entitles her to snip other’s heels with her 2 coffee cup holder, and cell phone charger equipped mega stroller while they breeze off to “Whole Foods” where you spend your “Whole” pay check, while the rest us chumps shop out of our own age bracket at Trader Joes. And who can even be bothered with that West coast crap when we really only eat out any way.
Anyway, in my tangent, what I am trying to relay is that I’m bored, and now trying to figure out why it is I continue to compromise as much as I do for what I left behind me in the first place!

The High Line, a NY highlight

The High Line, a NY highlight

I went out for a friend's birthday Thursday night in an area Im noramlly no where near,Columbus Circle.
While stroll

After the pinnacle passing of my generation with Michael Jackson's recent death, I , a sever product of the eighties, am feeling a harder hit with the passing of John Hughes.
As a pre-teen and now as an adult , I can still recite the entirety of "16 Candles". My first true love was a twosome. A cross between "Jake and Farmer Ted. Jake symbolizing man-godliness, and Ted, the attainable, he'll-grow-into-his-own crush. They were the id and ego of my female desires. Now Claire, was my girl, she was me until the false end when her lust and grief is fulfilled. I mean don't we all dream of the hot senior leaving his HOT, but selfish and boring girlfriend for a mediocre looking gal.

God Bless John Hughes. RIP and Thank You

"Jake, you’re not going to believe this, but I had this bizarre dream, and you were in it."

"Come on Ma, I got my head gear on"

"I cant believe I just got felt up by my Grandmother"

"just one thing, Can I borrow your underpants for just 10 minutes?"

After the pinnacle and symbolic passing of my generation with Michael Jackson's recent death, and my being a severe product of the eighties, I'm feeling a harder hit with the passing of John Hughes. As a pre-teen/teen and now as an adult, I can still recite the entirety of "16 Candles". My first true love was a twosome. A cross between "Jake" and "Farmer Ted". Jake symbolized man-godliness, and Ted, the attainable, he'll-grow-into-his-own crush. They were the id and ego of my female desires. Now Claire, was my girl, she was me until the false end when her lust and grief was fulfilled. I mean don't we all dream of the hot senior leaving his HOT, but selfish and boring girlfriend for a mediocre looking gal? Well not in my high school, and not in yours, but John Hughes allowed us that glory in our psyche "high school."

TBC... I will be blogging on: Pretty in Pink" (great soundtrack), "Uncle Buck", and "Somekind of Wonderful", and possibly "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (as I was NOT a follower of this one) let the angry comments flow. Nor will I be blogging about "Home Alone". John needs to include kids because he had kids in this point in time. See blog regarding Hughe’s inner feeling towards Hollywood, his children and his best friend, John Candy. This is seriously an amazingly warm picture of John Hughes and his letters to a local teenage girl.
http://wellknowwhenwegetthere.blogspot.com/2009/08/sincerely-john-hughes.html
Also to come: The Brat pack: Where are they now. Well, we know where John Cryer is, we just don’t know WHY he is “there”.

As for Michael Schoeffling, aka. Jake Ryan, he lives with his wife Valerie Robinson, and their two teenaged children in Newfoundland, Pennsylvania, producing handcrafted furniture as the owner of a woodworking shop.Um is it me or is that hot? He is a plain ol wood workin man.

God Bless John Hughes. RIP and Thank You

"Jake, you’re not going to believe this, but I had this bizarre dream, and you were in it."

"Come on Ma, I got my head gear on"

"I cant believe I just got felt up by my Grandmother"

"just one thing, Can I borrow your underpants for just 10 minutes?"

After the pinnacle and symbolic passing of my generation with Michael Jackson's recent death, and my being a severe product of the eighties, I'm feeling a harder hit with the passing of John Hughes. As a pre-teen/teen and now as an adult, I can still recite the entirety of "16 Candles". My first true love was a twosome. A cross between "Jake" and "Farmer Ted". Jake symbolized man-godliness, and Ted, the attainable, he'll-grow-into-his-own crush. They were the id and ego of my female desires. Now Claire, was my girl, she was me until the false end when her lust and grief was fulfilled. I mean don't we all dream of the hot senior leaving his HOT, but selfish and boring girlfriend for a mediocre looking gal? Well not in my high school, and not in yours, but John Hughes allowed us that glory in our psyche "high school."

TBC... I will be blogging on: Pretty in Pink" (great soundtrack), "Uncle Buck", and "Somekind of Wonderful", and possibly "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (as I was NOT a follower of this one) let the angry comments flow. Nor will I be blogging about "Home Alone". John needs to include kids because he had kids in this point in time. See blog regarding Hughe’s inner feeling towards Hollywood, his children and his best friend, John Candy. This is seriously an amazingly warm picture of John Hughes and his letters to a local teenage girl.
http://wellknowwhenwegetthere.blogspot.com/2009/08/sincerely-john-hughes.html
Also to come: The Brat pack: Where are they now. Well, we know where John Cryer is, we just don’t know WHY he is “there”.

As for Michael Schoeffling, aka. Jake Ryan, he lives with his wife Valerie Robinson, and their two teenaged children in Newfoundland, Pennsylvania, producing handcrafted furniture as the owner of a woodworking shop.Um is it me or is that hot? He is a plain ol wood workin man.

Underground Submarine

This morning like every morning, I was fumbling around in my ritual: keys, wallet, phone, birthday card to Dawn, and my Netflix, and drop off my rent check to my landlord. OK, Get metro card out, so as not to go fishing for it while train is pulling up. I drop of rent check, deposit 2 pieces of mail into mail box, and head for the subway, hear train screeching into my station, run downstairs fish for Metro card, no Metro card, not in front pocket of bag or main compartment, nor in my jeans pocket, ugh mailed my Metro card. Fuck, the day I pull up with an F train running and I don’t have my card, need to purchase one, still have time, old man had notifies me that neither of the 2 Metro card machines are accepting cash or credit, but if I give him $2.00 he’ll swipe his card for me. Awesome, a scammer the moment I need him. I make the train and we thank each other.

poem "on the train"

Transport me, transfer me
Serrendiposuly, lovingly
In this vessel, this silver submarine
Sleepy and serene
With out an exterior scene
We are forced to look with in
With those we share this 60 feet tin
A temporary place with our urban kin

United we stand
United we claim our place in this 20 minute space

Us lucky ones sit

Unyielding
Colors in dream
redeem a seat or a lean on the door


Now 10 hours later, on the way back home. poem "Back on the train"

Ladies and gentlemen
I’m hungry
A dollar
A nickel, a penny, anything would help
Maybe a piece of fruit
And if you are feeling up to it, a hug

Heads shift up out of habit
But then retire back to their book
An outcry of averting eyes

Same ol song and dance
For some, this F train
has been their performance space
for years

No woman, no cry no woman no cry
I remember whenna we used to it…

In between, fade out of public speeches and unwelcomed entertainment
The remainder of us sit, unfazed or at least sport a mask of sub-emotion
Fade back in, and become the clinking, the clattering of the train amid a fog of conversations in Spanish, Yiddish, Brooklynish

“Delancey, East Broadway next stop”

Trains escorts us along
Paranoia, of my fellow, intimately situated stranger
reading my most private of thoughts
I look up to determine that he is quite submerged in his own reading
My narcissism, such self-importance to assume this stranger is just aching to share in even just a glimpse of my profanity on paper

A palette of fluorescent light and mundane hues, not too foreign from the office I just escaped
We ride this familiar interior for minutes and more a day
strangers to one another
we are the pole holders, or the lucky few who are the seat dwellers
we are each other, we are new Yorkers.

whilst in my laziness and my heading out the door to another state, the Upper West side, I leave you with this until I resume.