My Commute

Another non-stop day in the office. A blur. Just kept going until I told myself to stop and leave. One more click on that button. Please. One more series scheduled. C'mon. One more write up for April. I need to! One more idea played out. One more rating inserted. In the scheme of things I am doing surgery on the brain of a paper clip. Perspective. But on the other hand, I care about what I do. Enough.

Time to decompress and what better way than on the ginormous, anonymous, tremendous streets of Manhattan. It is perfectly Zen to coast through the masses. One of the perks of living and working here is being in the middle of it all. I walked up Broadway and returned phone calls from friends. Scott and I had a good chat all the way past Columbus Circle and Central Park South. We talked about life right by Lincoln Center and finished up in front of Fairway Market. Great to talk to him as always. I got some provisions and was going to call Rab when I noticed Clint rang in. Returned his call. He was on 8th and Folsom in San Francisco heading to Oakland. I was on 72nd and Broadway. Amy rang in from California. I set up a 3 way call and we talked all the way across the Bay Bridge up Broadway making a right at Zabar's to Oakland and up my staircase. Clint and Amy were then face to face in their kitchen and I was on my couch! What a lovely way to get home!

Sheep Under Me Eyes. I Can't See to Count Them, but I Know They Are Puffy

Got to work at 8:30am. Left at 9pm. Shell shocked. Got home. Screened a program for work eating vegan dumplings with chicken. Installed wireless in my apartment. Here I am. Bed.

No thought to share. If I had to force one it is: "I have to get a sweater darned and lose weight."

Must. Get. Sleep.

The Rialto

I live in New York City. This becomes clear to me when I pay my high rent every month. When I pay high anything every day. When I lug my groceries and my laundry some blocks. But it is also clear to me when I walk to work through Central Park and when I leave the office in the evening and meet a friend for a drink and a Broadway play. I am still amazed by this access. I just love it. May the novelty never wear off.

We went to see Irish playwright Conor McPherson's "The Seafarer" tonight. Male anger and isolation like what I saw in Pinter's "The Homecoming" a few weeks ago. Plus a hell of a lot more alcohol! Booze and chat. I could go on and on and on and on and on about this. We Irish love our drink. It was so odd seeing the set with the linoleum worn away revealing the older linoleum underneath. And the morning light coming up through the window as dawn came. I KNEW that place exactly. I knew those people. That really struck me. I was in that house at one time. I knew that.

And the actors were amazing. Like my friend said, "We have not seen great, great plays this season, but we have seen great performances." This is true. Ian McShane and Eve Best in "The Homecoming." And those actors tonight. And Deanna Dunnagan in the Steppenwolf Production of "August: Osage County."

When the theatre let out many other houses were emptying and whole seas of humanity with different playbills in hand were all mingling on the streets. This is part of the theatre experience for me in New York. I also love going outside at intermission and if the theatre across the street or next door has a similarly timed intermission I love seeing people pour out of there. At a risk of a reader eyeroll, I love the collective experience of theatre here. It is part of why I am here. It is part of why I am here.

I got back to my brownstone apartment and climbed the stairs, checked my mail and took off my shoes. I put my keys and wallet in the upper left hand drawer. This is my set. This is the end of Act II for today. Not a lot of drama. Nice.

And Curtain.

A Brand New Day. Everything is Fine.

Today I ate in order: cereal, lentil salad, cubes of cheese, an orange, Cinnamon Pop Tarts, Fish and Chips, Burger and Fries, Ice Cream and Cake.

I thought I was doing Weight Watchers but if you dug me up and did an autopsy you would think I left a vegetarian orgy for a children's birthday party.

I have reasons for everything I ate. I think I was doing pretty well until the Pop Tarts. They are in a vending machine on my floor at work. And only 60 cents the injection. I was stressed. I was really stressed. I should have walked around the block. I walked to the sugary methadone clinic in the office kitchen instead. I thought I had stopped this. I thought I was clean!

THEY, the wise and ubiquitous and ominous THEY, say you can start your day over at any time. I choose to start it over now when I am going to bed. So today I basically ate NOTHING!

"That boy starves himself. He really needs to eat something. A whole day without food? He is fasting. How honorable."

Oy with the Head Already!

What was on my mind today? Well nothing. I just worked. I guess work is on my mind. I got here at 8:30am and left at 9pm. I need to work smarter. Better. I guess. Lately I feel like I am pushing rocks up hills; I don't seem to get the work done. This causes me "controlled panic" if such a thing can be achieved. I got home and watched a program for work with my chicken dinner. Took notes. I flossed. I am now going to bed.

All this sends me into a horrible "How Does Oprah Do It?" thing. When I compare myself to Oprah, I suffer. I know she has a million handlers and assistants, but that lady works hard. There is no way she doesn't. But then she rides her bike in Montecito! There are people who run companies, raise kids, read the classics, have abs of steel and learn Flemish. They also VOLUNTEER! I know there is a trick and I am going to learn it.

Here is just a quick working list of things I think I need to "GET":

1. First thing's first. Just do the next thing.
2. Reading 2 pages of Homer or Flaubert is better than fretting about how behind on the classics I am.
3. Walking to work is exercise. Walk to work.
4. Signing up for a class/joining a group is something you do whether you have a job/relationship or not.
5. If I know I have done the best I can at that moment, then so be it.
6. Meditation. There must be something good in it for me based on the fact that it freaks me out.
7. When I compare myself to Oprah (or anyone) I suffer.

Sunday Dusk

I love Sundays. Sunday mornings and days, I mean. My fave day of the week in fact. No longer do I look forward to Saturday nights out. I have gone through "the change." I am into mornings. Another chapter in my never ending book entitiled "IT JUST HAPPENS." Like death and taxes there are certain certainties.

Here are some:

1. Your doctor is going to be younger than you. (CHECK)

2. Your president/prime minister is going to be younger than you. (If Obama wins here I am spared by one year.)

3. You will not recognize any of the artists on the Top 10 Music list. (90% CHECK for me)

4. Things that went out of place on your body in your 30s always went back. In your 40s and beyond, they stay in their new position.

But what I have gained besides lines and inches is Sunday mornings. Coffee. Music. My computer. All at home with light coming through my window. Then a walk with my ipod through the park or along the river. I love it more than 3 aspirin and a stranger in my bed.

Had brunch in the Village with the guys and we had a star sighting. I have had major New York- esque sightings this weekend, in well, New York. First Stiller & Meara at the next table on Friday night and now Annie Liebowitz loading the back of her SUV on Bank Street. Heading to her cool villa upstate that I saw in that HBO special no doubt. It felt like Wild Kingdom as we stealthily approached the side of her vehicle. "Shhh. Steady. Don't disturb the wild life. If we walk slowly and steadily she won't notice us staring at her. These creatures like to be left alone to do what they are doing. Greenwich Village is their watering hole." Of course I was dying for a photo of the famous photog for my blog, but we were just too near and it would be just too rude. I cannot turn into tmz.com. But imagine me with my arm over Annie's shoulder by her SUV on tree-lined Bank Street with quaint Federal-style brick buildings behind us and us both beaming for the camera with one of us just having been at Buckingham Palace having photographed the Queen which resulted in a firestorm and heads rolling at the BBC and the other having just had breakfast. That is my concept for the photo you are not seeing here.

Then there is Sunday night. I have a problem still with that. Sunday Dusk is how I see it. It is not that relaxing Sunday Roast and a Movie thing for me. It is "Ok I have the week ahead and I have to hurry up and relax and get to bed and get up early and really make it happen this time" feeling. Much different than walking through Sheep Meadow listening to Vivaldi hours earlier. One daypart at a time, I suppose.

If You Could See What I See.

I have to say as much as I have HUGE problems with technology I still take time while others are smelling roses to marvel at the mobile phone. Here you are 10, 000 miles away talking to a friend with a Mars bar held to your head whilst getting your eyebrows waxed or spending quality time with a loved one at a nursing home. A marvel I tell you. A marvel. But now I want a PatCam(tm). It is a tiny device that I attach to my forehead so I can show you where I am and what I am seeing during our call. Not that I won't listen to whatever it is you are going on about, but that you get to SHARE my surroundings with me. I hear this capability is out there, but I am always 5 years behind. There are "early adopters" and there are people like me - "technology's stepchildren." Not a PC term, but there you have it.

For example. I was talking to my friend Jon this morning on my way to return Christmas gifts. He said "Are those horse's hooves?" I could have been way out in the parking lot at the Paramus Park Mall, but I was walking through Central Bloody Park on a beautiful winter day and those were horse and carriages he was hearing! There were also ice skaters and the skyline of Central Park South buildings in front of me. There were the park statues and old couples holding hands. I want to share! LOOK! LOOK! And I want to see what you are seeing too. This is what we call CONTEXT. You know how it is once you finally get invited to someone's home or you have been in their office and then you have that visual of where they are when they speak to you? It just makes the experience so much more personal. Don't you think? And isn't technology pulling us away from "personal"? Okay, so I air my dirty laundry to the world on a daily basis via this blog, but there is that WALL O' SAFETY with it. I wear masks.

(Virginia, daddy just lost his way with his whole point. He is pulling over. )

I returned gifts and redeemed my gift card at Bloomingdales which Jon in San Francisco directed me to, by the way - "just keep walking east on 59th Street." I got this great sweater. Thanks, Leiyan! I then got a hat and I bought underpants. (The camera would be turned off at this point.)

Walking back home through the Park my friend Maureen came back into my head as she often does. (In cyber speak it is called a Widget. She placed a widget in my head.) I have this feeling that if they keep putting widgets in your head you should call them. We had not spoken in a while and it was so wonderful to speak to her. Hat and gloves in the Park right by Tavern on the Green. In our conversation I was reminded of how many great laughs we have had over the years. Just so many. And how many years. Piping. Banking. Life. Death. Hangovers. Fillums. Role Playing. Tawk. Camping Purse. I sat down on a park bench and we had a chat. This was just the best that money could buy with technology. Well, not really. If the phone dispensed boiling water and a tea bag, I think that would have been the best. We talked well past where John Lennon got shot and up through the west side markets to around 72nd Street. She would not have known any of this since as I had no PatCam(tm). For all she knew I was sitting in an empty room talking to her. And maybe that is the point of it.