Loch Central Park

Posted on October 6, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

I took one of the last warm days of the season off from work and dragged 7-Year Old Daughter into the city. Again. She’s been there quite a few times now and walks around like she owns the place. It’s pretty funny. She has developed a comfort level with the city, which is by design.

Renting a row boat on Central Park Lake is probably The Most Touristy thing you can do, but it’s a fantastic experience. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve done it. It’s still a thrill. And it only costs about $10 bucks! So worth it. The Central Park row boats and the landmark Carousel are absolute musts on a warm day. You’re never too old for that stuff.

I like watching clueless city people try to row a boat. They often row incorrectly; with the stern of the boat going forward. The bow of the boat cuts through the water quite nicely but for some reason, dopey New Yorkers prefer the struggle of trying to push the stern through water. Perhaps it’s in their nature to make things more difficult than they need to be.

Here we are at beautiful Bethesda Fountain. Did you see Tony Kurshner’s Angels in America? This fountain plays an important role. There’s a charming song-and-dance number in The Daughter’s favorite movie, Enchanted, that features the fountain.

If you row out to the middle of the lake you can get a spectacular view of the luxury hotels along Central Park South. For being in the middle of New York City, the lake is actually quite big.

Many years ago, my brother was visiting and I took a photo of him rowing. When I got the pictures developed, I discovered that I accidentally got a shot of his testicle hanging out of his shorts! Do you guys want to see it?

If you visit Central Park mid-week you’ll witness a phenomenon called “The Leisure Class.” These are people who hang out in the city all day and have no visible means of support. They don’t have proper jobs. And these are not tourists! They’re locals! Look how crowded Sheep Meadow is on a Thursday afternoon. Where do they get the money to live like this? Arrrgghh.

Random architectural flourish. Click on that and take a look at the latticework. Nice!

I heart New York. Always have. Probably always will.

Of COURSE the dog is French

Posted on October 5, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

I was in the throws of really enjoying my self-pity when I stumbled across this gem from the BBC:

Former French President Jacques Chirac has announced that he has given away his beloved dog after it attacked him for a third time. (It bit him on his belly!)

Mr. Chirac’s wife, Bernadette, said the dog had been treated for depression after finding it difficult to come to terms with leaving the Elysee Palace.

Hey, do you know what, Mrs. Chirac? Fuck your depressed dog! This is a bad time for me to read about a dog who’s receiving treatment for depression because he can no longer live in a French palace. I am, for the time being, tapped-out of empathy. Bring him here and I’ll give him something to be depressed about. I’ll stomp on his little Maltese paws.

C’mon Universe! Give me a break, would ya? Don’t throw stuff like this in my path right now, okay?

* * *

I didn’t go to the gym this morning. I heard a chocolate chip muffin and a cup of coffee calling out to me. You understand, don’t you? Instead, I took a brisk Autumnal walk from 41st Street and 9th Avenue, down 42nd Street and then up Lexington Avenue to 48th Street (a distance of approximately 1.3 miles) carrying my commuting bag (+/- 15 pounds) and the weight of expectations (incalculable). Does that count as a workout?

Wave after wave

Posted on October 3, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

More bad news on my doorstep. My God, it’s relentless. Doesn’t it ever fucking stop? Bukowski has a great poem about how it’s not an atom bomb or cancer that kills a man; it’s the accumulation of small indignities that finally does him in. Nietzsche speaks of the death of a thousand pinpricks. Years ago, I came across this quote from Chekhov and saved it:

Any idiot can face a crisis. It is this day-to-day living that wears you out.

I received yet another humiliating kick in the crotch yesterday. Mrs. Wife and The Daughters are away for the weekend so I came home to an empty house. I spent the vast majority of my life living alone by choice. I got married very late in life, not because of a lack of opportunities, but because I was reluctant to surrender my beloved solitude. I am still pretty much a loner—I have few friends—and try to spend some time in seclusion. But on this particular night, walking into a dark house with only my thoughts for company felt threatening.

Before going to bed I took the recyclables out to the garage. I opened the door and stepped into the pitch black. My mind played tricks on me. I imagined a badger or trapped dog leaping out of the darkness. I hurriedly walked to the corner of the garage, threw away the bottles and slammed the door shut behind me.

I went upstairs to meditate. Do you know what? Sometimes, meditating is a big waste of time. Sometimes, it’s counterproductive. Sometimes, it draws you in deeper to the very thing that you’re trying to spirit away from. I lay in bed and starred at the ceiling, certain that I’d never fall asleep. But I did.

* * *

I woke up this morning and contrary to my expectations, the sun came up. I went out for a run. It was early and nobody was stirring. Bono sang:

Lights go down it’s dark
The jungle is your head
Can’t rule your heart

I powered up my laptop. I received a kind word from a friend. Is this how it’s going to be? Okay, then. Scramble two.

Princess Leia and her drinking problem

Posted on October 2, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

I saw Carrie Fisher’s one-woman show, Wishful Drinking. Take a look at that poster. Isn’t that just too funny! Princess Leia passed out with a martini glass and a bunch of pills. Hilarious. Fisher spent many years being tabloid fodder and it’s nice to see her turn all that misfortune and addiction into an entertaining evening for the rest of us.

She starts the segment on her life during and after Star Wars with, “George Lucas ruined my life.” She says this while wearing a ridiculous Princess Leia cinnabon wig.

The best segment of the show is Hollywood Inbreeding 101. It’s a twisted look at her parents, Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher, and the multiple-marriage/multi-generational mess the two of them spawned. It would be funny if it weren’t true. That it is lends a touch of pathos to it and makes me glad I had an ordinary childhood.

My two quibbles is that at 2:15 it could probably use an editor. And the venue, Studio 54, is TOO BIG for an intimate, one woman show. Other than that, it’s a winner.

Makes me want to quit blogging

Posted on October 1, 2009 by Exile on Pain Street

This item on CNN’s landing page..

…makes me feel like blogging is a joke instead of a legitimate means of expression. It’s the old dictum that I don’t want to belong to a club that would have someone like this as a member. Am I being a big baby again?

* * *

I just read a convincing and sobering report. Because of the advent of electronic communications, teaching cursive handwriting is no longer considered a priority in schools. Classes have been dramatically cut back and will eventually be eliminated altogether.

Cursive writing will go the way of Morris code and the DuMont television network and vanish. It will become a relic of a bygone era that only hobbyists will practice. That’s a little sad.

* * *

An Unbearable birthday tip ‘o the hat to the lovely, lively Mrs. Wife. How do you do it? Do you have an aging portrait somewhere in that crawl space behind the linen?

Unbearable personal factoid: I am 14 years older than Mrs. Wife. It works for us!