SOLSC 20: Yesterday’s Events

            Here’s what I did yesterday. I walked across 110th Street aka Central Park North to a book reading by a friend, Robert Roth. Alas, I was too late for Robert’s reading from his latest, Book of Pieces, containing poems, stories, essays. But another writer, Frank Murphy, was reading from A Great Disorder when I arrived, and his poems were quite amusing. “The Good Man Is Shaped Like a Banana Peel” suggests all the bad things that could happen as a result of one good deed. “Crossing Over” is about Manhattanites’ reluctance to go to Brooklyn. And “The Art of Losing It” relates many meanings of “lost”: the ways we can lose things or people or be lost or lose a train of thought. (You can find both books through Google Books.)

            Next I walked back across 110th Street to a Cookies and Postcards party. Our hostess made cookies and provided a list of addresses of Cabinet secretaries, legislators, and the president and his staff, as well as ideas for who to write to about whatever issue was most important to us. I wrote to the president; Scott Pruitt at the EPA; a thank you to Senator Kirsten Gillibrand and also a thank you to James Mattis, secretary of defense, because he thinks climate change is real and is a national security issue, and maybe he can persuade Scott Pruitt of that fact. The only people I knew were the hostess and her mother, but I met a couple of people I may get to know better. It was energizing to feel that I was doing something positive. I know the people the postcards are addressed to will never read them, but someone on their staffs will, and perhaps it will make some of them think differently.

            And I may organize such a party myself soon. 

SOLSC 18: Boring Day, but Interesting Evening

            A lot of catching up today, cleaning up the to-do list. That’s the boring part.

            Tonight I’m going to an Orpheus Chamber Orchestra concert. If you don’t know about Orpheus, check them out. They are a leaderless ensemble; a small group of musicians work together to develop the orchestra’s arrangement for each piece, and have been playing and touring for more than 45 years. You can read about their process here and see their calendar here. They play mostly in New York, but will be in Winona, Minnesota, in July, for the Minnesota Beethoven Festival.

            Tonight, their soloist is a cellist, Alisa Weilerstein, and the program includes a Schumann Concerto for cello, as well as a Mendelssohn, a Schubert, and a Webern (they always include a modern piece).

            Jack and I had a three-concert series with them for years, and I’ve kept it, now including my daughter, good friend GirlGriot, and adding another writing friend next season. It will be peaceful.

SOLSC 17: Random Conversation Not Pursued

           I was at the gym today, on the stationary bike. Each cardio machine has a TV attached, and if there weren’t one, I could never force myself to keep going. The time, pace, and speed numbers are helpful, but not alone. I need something that will take my mind away from my legs pumping away.

            Usually I watch the Food Network. Ina Garten, Giada De Laurentiis, Rachael Ray are my favorites. Then I remembered that the Mets are playing a spring training game, and there they were, leading 4-1, and while I watched, they scored 6 more runs. Yay!

            Next to me two men were talking, and when I glanced at what was on their screens, it was the joint news conference with Trump and Angela Merkel. The two men were discussing Trump, his words, how Merkel was responding to him, and what to believe.

            I was strongly tempted to join in. I wanted to ask whether they’d seen the Gail Collins column in the New York Times a week ago, in which she talked about the three versions of Trump.

“Reasonable Chatting Trump is pleasant but useless. Unscripted Trump is pretty close to nuts. And then there’s the Somewhat Normal Republican Trump, who we enjoy calling SNORT.”

            The trouble was, I could only remember “Reasonable Chatting Trump,” and I thought it would sound lame if I couldn’t bring up all three. I tuned my screen to the channel covering the news conference, thinking I might hear something I could use to enter this conversation. Since my husband died, I’ve missed the casual comments that come up when there is another person around. I’d seen these two men at the gym many times, though I’d never spoken to them. Another woman would have joined in, I thought, but how do I become that woman? Maybe I will be that woman another day. 

SOLSC 15: Frustration, Then Accomplishment

            What a day! It began with almost no sleep, who knows why. Maybe delayed, extreme jet lag?

            Visit to my doctor for annual checkup, and I am pronounced healthy. Good news, after spending a week and a half with a couple recovering from pneumonia, and returning home to a cold. Lungs clear, blood pressure normal, pulse normal.

            Outside it is COLD. I choose not to go to the rally in support of the Reproductive Health Act, designed to keep the Roe v. Wade framework as New York State law. There will be a rally at Governor Cuomo’s New York City office every Wednesday until this bill passes, and given how slowly our Republican-led state senate moves, I know there will be more, and not so cold, Wednesdays to demonstrate.

            After lunch with homemade chicken soup, I call the public library to find out why the e-book I borrowed three days ago will not download on my iPad. After my phone hangs up in the middle of my tech support for the third time, I move to another chair in my living room. The woman on the phone suggests I uninstall, then reinstall the e-book reading app. Which I do. Which works. Of course, it’s the old “plug-unplug” that seems to work for all electronic devices.

            Now I am off to the gym and to start reading my next book group book, Malcolm Gladwell’s David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants. Maybe there will be some tips for future political protests.

            And I’m getting my Slice in before late evening. Another accomplishment.

SOLSC 14: Snow Storm Stella

            Yes, even snow storms get names these days, though where were the storms with names beginning with A-R?

            I only went outside my apartment today to take photos of my street, looking west and east. (And technical difficulties are preventing me from uploading the view looking west. Very frustrating.)

We got less snow than forecast, 4 inches in Manhattan instead of 8-12 inches. North of the city, there were 18 inches in Highland Falls, 55 miles up the Hudson, but no measurable amount in Sea Bright, New Jersey, to the south.

            But it was quite windy, and on my street, it’s always more windy because it comes off the Hudson River. So since my cold is taking hold on my lungs and I didn’t need to go out, it was better to stay indoors.

            My lobby does offer flowers to cheer our mood. They change every few weeks – a professional flower-arranger lives in the building.

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SOLSC 13: Prep Work

            I had an errand that took me all the way downtown this afternoon and then the Post Office. When I came home, I intended to immediately go back out and restock my refrigerator, which I’d emptied out before my travels.

            Once I sat down, though, fatigue took over, and I lay down for a nap. An hour later, I got up, made a shopping list, and went to the store. Where, at the entrance, I was directed to the “very short wait, short line.”

            There is a blizzard forecast, with snow starting around midnight and continuing all day. So maybe people are panicking just a bit? The line was not so short. I waited 10 minutes. Some people passing by said, “This is crazy!” A woman who said she lived above the store and shopped sometimes twice a day: “This is hysterical,” she said.

            Once I got in, there was no problem. The store was still well-stocked. I didn’t have long to wait to pay, and since I was paying cash, I wasn’t affected by the computers processing credit and debit cards going down briefly.

            Bring on the blizzard.

SOLSC 12: Getting Sick?

            This will be brief, because it’s late, and I think writing on the computer after 9 p.m. is disturbing my melatonin.

            In California, my hosts were recovering from very bad colds, as well as pneumonia. We thought they were no longer contagious, and maybe they weren’t and I got this budding cold from the flight home, always a possibility. In any case, I couldn’t sleep last night, and today I’ve have all my usual cold symptoms.

            I’m going to bed soon, and hope I can beat this. Ginger and honey tea sounds like a good idea. And lots of vitamin  C.

SOLSC 11: What Is the Meaning of Life, and Death?

            Can you imagine a medieval morality play adapted as a 21st century performance? Branden Jacobs-Jenkins has, and I saw his work, Everybody, at the Signature Theatre this afternoon. It was very cleverly done, and it would be useful for our current president and vice-president to see it as well, though that’s not likely. It’s only playing through March 19.

            It’s based loosely on the 15th century English play Everyman, which may have been based on an earlier Dutch play, we’re informed by the usher, who shortly is possessed by God, who is rather angry at what his creation humans are doing to the rest of his creation on Earth. God orders Death to bring Everybody to Him to give an account of themselves.

            Death is an elderly white woman (God was, temporarily at least, an African-American woman), who picks several people out of the audience – at first we’re not sure whether they are ordinary spectators or plants, real actors. They are needless to say not very happy to be summoned by Death, and they are not even sure it’s happening. Maybe it’s a dream. Death concedes that Everybody can bring someone with them, but can’t tell them how to give that account of themselves.

            One actor (and a different one at each performance, chosen by lot, as so much happens to us all by chance) takes on the role of Everybody and tries, successively, to get Friendship, Kinship, and even his Stuff to die with him, but each one demurs. Friendship’s speech is a perfect amalgam of all the generic ways we think friendship exists (“Remember that time...?” “We had the best night...” “You know that joke...” without any specifics). Everybody’s encounter with his Stuff hit particularly close for me, as Everybody described all the ways that I use my stuff to remember my life and reveal its meaning to me.

            Love is the only character who finally agrees to go with Everybody, not a Love that a Hallmark card would recognize, forcing Everybody to humiliate himself. But once Everybody can surrender to this Love, the strobe lights and disco music come on, and two larger than life skeletons come out to dance, a perfect 21st century recreation of medieval visions of death.

            This play deserves more than its brief run, and there’s so much more that could be said about it. It made me think not only about everyone’s inevitable death, but about my husband’s so recent one. I found myself wishing I could tell his dead self about the play and ask whether he identified with any of Everybody’s thoughts or feelings

-->  as he was about to die. An eerie, thoughtful experience.

SOLSC 10: Getting Organized

            After opening all the mail accumulated while I was away, I simply put it into piles. Today I sorted through the piles, and gave in to my propensity to make list

Magazines

1. 2 New York Review of Books

2. 3 New Yorkers. The anniversary issue at the end of February has always been a reproduction of the original cover in 1925, showing a dandy named Eustace Tilley.

That issue this year is a satire of that cover.

 

3. 4 The Nation

4. Poets & Writers

5. Milk Street (a new cooking magazine by the founder of Cook’s Illustrated)

6. 6 newsletters, including the Hightower Lowdown, Church & State, Healthy Aging, and Mind, Mood & Memory

Money

            Then there were my pension checks, bank statements, and donation receipts for tax reporting. Also a bill from a doctor who saw my husband briefly in his last days in the hospital, 15 months ago. Can it really take Medicare that long to process bills?

            Finally, solicitations for donations from the Center for Reproductive Rights, the American Humanist Association, Planned Parenthood of New York City, the Hospice Support Fund, and the ACLU. I’ll give money to some of these organizations after I check out the ones I don’t known on Charity Navigator. 

SOLSC 9: Coming Home

            I arrived home this morning, after the overnight flight from California. Coming into the empty apartment was melancholy, with no one to say, “Welcome home, baby,” and give me a big hug and kiss. I had to whisper “welcome home” to myself, a poor substitute for Jack’s voice.

            Everything was as I left it, the eggs I’d left for Christie gone from the refrigerator. But as I wheeled my suitcase to my room, I was surprised to see books on the floor. They’d fallen off a bookshelf. Why? How?

 The brackets holding the shelf were all there. The sides of the bookcase were in place. I replaced everything, but it was unsettling. I don’t really believe it was Jack’s ghost urging me to get rid of books – but there was one book that was a duplicate (The Encyclopedia of New York City), and I’ve been meaning to donate it to a library. It went onto the pile by the front door.

            In the evening I opened 25 days’ worth of postal mail, which took an hour and a half! Most of it was junk, but there were a few bills I’d forgotten to take care of, some checks, and several magazines. Lots of reading to catch up with. 

SOLSC 8: A Walk in the Park

            My last day in Watsonville, it’s in the upper 60s, and Heidi and I go for a walk to Pinto Lake City Park (not to be confused with Pinto Lake County Park at the other end of the lake). While it looks like we are in the country – there are agricultural fields between the settlements of houses – there is also a sidewalk. It’s not well maintained in spots, and lots of vegetation on either side, but a sidewalk nonetheless, which is more than one would find in this terrain in the east. A big plus for California.

            After the torrential rains last month, most of the park was submerged until last week. Most of the water has receded by now, but there is still more lake/less park than there should be. Some park benches and tables are knee-deep in water. One man had waded out to a table now yards out in the lake to fish.

 

          Those birds in the water are not ducks; they are coots. Have you ever heard of a coot? I never had. They have long legs, and their feet aren’t webbed like ducks, but each of their claws has its own webbing, and as they walk, they look like they are wearing too-big galoshes.

            That water between the paved area and pier is not normal; it’s left over from the flooding. You should be able to walk from the paved area to the pier without getting your feet wet.

            Three-year-old William (shown above) and his five-year-old brother, Connor were also out with their father shouting at the coots, but Heidi’s dogs were a much bigger attraction. I didn’t have my phone with me, so I can’t show you the two dogs, Zoe and Pippin, on a double leash, but here they are back home, tired out from all that exercise.

            The park is a peaceful grassy place, with a volleyball net, a baseball field, RV camping area, and a three-tree redwood grove dedicated to the pioneer ancestors of Mary Curtis. Pinto Lake is 10,000 years old, but parts of it are now afflicted by toxic algae, and swimming is not allowed.

SOLSC 7: Protest Time

            A construction company called Graniterock, in Watsonville, where I am visiting, is considering a bid on building Trump’s wall. This afternoon I went with Heidi, my host, to join a protest against the company, hoping to persuade them that building a wall is not the best way to use their resources.

            In the morning we brainstormed what her sign should read. Heidi wanted to use a word or two from the company’s statement to local newspapers, that it remained neutral in terms of politics, as well as what projects would be better for the company to be working on. “Infrastructure” came readily to mind, but that’s just too long for a sign and doesn’t work as a catchy slogan.

            “Neutral” was also an important word. How about “A wall is not neutral.” Perfect. Adding “It’s mean” added a bit of an edge. Heidi’s daughter suggested, “It’s un-American,” as a better ending.

            Heidi found black poster board, a backing board to stiffen the sign, and double-sided tape to fuse the two together. Then she outlined the words to make sure everything would fit, and filled in the colors with acrylic paint. Here’s what the final result looked like, held by a neighbor's child.

            Then we got a ride to the company’s office, in an area of warehouses. Maybe 40 people were there when we arrived, but the sidewalk eventually filled with at least 200. More than half the passing drivers honked in support. A few of the organizers tried to meet with company officials, but were told they had to make an appointment, and there was no one there to make an appintment with at that time. So we continued holding up our signs for another hour, until the sun set. Here are some of the signs others brought.

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SOL 6: Is a Comedy-Horror Movie an Oxymoron?

            This afternoon we all went to see Jordon Peele’s (of Comedy Central’s Key & Peele show) first movie, Get Out. It’s billed as a comedy-horror film, which may sound like a contradiction in terms, but really does work.

            I am not a fan of horror films, but I have watched one or two just to see what it’s all about. I do love comedy, and while Get Out is not funny-haha, it has plenty of dark humor. The film takes all the necessary features of horror – the naïve protagonist confronted with open doors he can’t resist, characters who act strangely, characters who are not who they seem, scary walks outside at night, a cellphone mysteriously removed from its recharge cord, and plenty of gore at the end – with a twist that takes cultural appropriation a step beyond.

            Instead of the innocent young (always white) woman, we have an innocent young black man who is the central character, as Rosie, white, brings her new boyfriend, Chris, home to meet her liberal parents in their home in the woods. Rosie’s father is a neurosurgeon, her mother a psychiatrist who uses hypnotism. Hypnotism is the entry toward Chris’s lack of control.

            The opening scene is a classic horror scene, but also replicates the very real fear black men feel walking on a tree-shaded suburban street at night. As Chris becomes more unnerved in this strange house, he tries for reality checks by calling his friend Rod, a TSA agent, and Rod is more than a bystander. The underlying plot is wholly consistent, and weirdly believable. I can’t say more without spoilers, so I’ll leave you with a recommendation to see this movie, and an interview with Peele, the writer and director.

            Among the four of us, two really liked it, one somewhat liked it, and one was not sure. But we all found something to like and to talk about, and what more can you ask of a movie?

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I'm posting this too late to meet the Two Writing Teachers' deadline, but I am committed to writing a slice every day, to keep up with the challenge. 

SOL 5: Lazy Sunday

            Even on vacation, Sunday can be lazy. While my hosts get the weekday New York Times delivered, they don’t get the weekend papers, meaning no Magazine section, meaning no Sunday crossword puzzle.

            Their local paper, however, the Santa Cruz Sentinel, has a big New York Times crossword puzzle, which must come from the Magazine. Since neither of my hosts does the puzzle, I have it all to myself. It’s late afternoon, and I’ve done a bit over half of it. I haven’t yet figured out the overall theme, i.e., what weird PUN-ishment editor Will Shortz is offering us for clues with a question mark. (Ah, just got some in-house help: “Celebration after a coup?” is “uprisersparty.”) And some of the clues have bad definitions: “Detergent brand with a fabric in its name” turns out to be “woolite”; no, “wool” is not a fabric, it’s a yarn or thread.

            For lunch we have the California version of a BLT, which adds an avocado. For the L, I go to the backyard, to a half-wine barrel, where lettuce is growing. It’s chilly and windy, so I put on a jacket, scarf, and hat, strange clothing for a vacation in Central California. I’ve never picked lettuce before: should I pull the whole plant, or break off the leaves near the root so new ones will grow? Obviously, the latter. The BLT&A is the best I’ve ever had.

            Soon after lunch, it begins to rain – while the sun still shines. In this area of the country, when that happens it’s said that the devil is beating his wife. Back in New York it could also be a monkey’s wedding or a fox’s wedding, or even liquid sun. 

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I’m participating in the 10th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 5 of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!
 

SOL 4: Monterey

            I set off again for Monterey today, this time with my nephew Geoff and his girlfriend, Jess. On this gorgeous sunny, crisp day, we did make it to this small city at the southern end of Monterey Bay, home to Steinbeck's Cannery Row and the Monterey Aquarium with its guide to sustainable seafood.

            First we had lunch at a lovely little (and I do mean little, only six tables) Lebanese restaurant called Paprika, where Jess and I had the garlic chicken salad, and Geoff had the Kafta Kebab platter. All the food was delicious, and the pita was light and tasty as well. The owner cooks all the food from recipes he learned from his mother, so even what made the lemonade special was a secret.

            By the time we finished lunch, it was too late to get to the Aquarium considering how expensive admission is ($50 for the younger people; $40 for me). Instead we walked down to the Monterey Bay Coastal Trail in Pacific Grove and walked along the paved path to the rocky point you can see at the right of the photo at the top of this Web page, just over a mile. Along the way we stopped to watch seals hiding in the water, quantities of seagulls, a cormorant, and perhaps some white pelicans. The views, the sun, the sea... a delightful afternoon.

There are five seals near the beach; how many can you see?

View across Monterey Bay

Is that a gull or a pelican on rocks?

Monterey cypress

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I’m participating in the 10th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 4 of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!

SOL 3: My Brother and Cars

           I’m visiting a friend in Watsonville, and my brother lives in San Jose. Today he came down so we could hang out. My friend recommended a restaurant on the road to Monterey, Sea Harvest, since we were thinking of going down there.

            So we drove down Route 1 to Sea Harvest, overlooking Elkhorn Slough (pronounced “sloo” in case you didn’t know) just where it empties into Monterey Bay. When we arrived, my brother drove around the parking lot so he could park next to a car he had spotted, a copy of his own, a red Chrysler Crossfire. In case you don’t know what a Chrysler Crossfire is, it’s a sports car. Of course, it has to be red.

            We had a delicious meal, me a local rockfish fillet with a creamy tomato salsa, rice, and steamed carrots and broccoli, he a creamy seafood sauce over fettucine with garlic bread. We watched sea gulls and pelicans passing by. And a small child just learning to walk out on the terrace, rocketing back and forth.

            As we finished eating, my brother heard a man asking other diners whether they owned a Chrysler Crossfire. It was the owner of the other Crossfire. He and my brother immediately bonded over ownership of the same car. He reported that he’d bought his car from someone who’d acquired it at auction purely for its resale value. It had only 9,800 miles on it, and he didn’t drive it much himself. They traded cards, in case he ever wanted to get rid of it, and my brother might want it.

           

Here are the cars, and the two men exchanging car stories. My brother can still identify all the cars from the 1950s when I showed him my photos of vintage cars in Havana.

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I’m participating in the 10th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day three of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!

SOL 2: A Quiet Day

            It’s been a quiet day here in Watsonville. The hot water heater is still not fixed, although the necessary part has been delivered. But the electrician had other jobs to do, and then “hit a wall,” calls to say he will return early in the morning. Fortunately, it’s not my house, so I don’t have to be up early.

            I help my hostess prepare for her grown son’s visit (he arrives late tonight), and she gives me a guided tour of the downstairs apartment. We let out the dogs – a Portuguese water dog and a black spaniel – and walk through the backyard, past the small garden beds of herbs, fava beans, and onions; the fruit trees, blossoming plum and peach, hibernating apple and cherry, oranges and limes; and a tree with lemons almost the size of grapefruit, known as Eureka lemons.

            My hostess shows me the small “graveyard” where the ashes of her parents and her dogs are buried. She shows me how to suck sweet nector from salvia petals. We pass dried debris washed ashore from the torrential rains the previous weeks.

            In the evening we have a dinner of black bean soup (recipe courtesy of the NewYork Times) over rice, with pickled onions, avocado, cilantro, and crema. Delicious. And then I write this.

 

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I’m participating in the 10th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day two of the thirty-one-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!