Month: September 2019

Three landmarks as seen from Roosevelt Island (what I called Damnation Island in my book about what happened there in the 19th Century): the UN, Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building.

It’s that time of year again. I was coming home from work and saw that they were testing the Tribute in Light. It’s beautiful, but I would like to retire this installation because it confuses migrating birds, trapping them in the light. It didn’t seem as bright as in the past. Maybe they’re trying a lower illumination to see if that lessens its effect on birds.

Whenever a book I’m reading mentions nostalgia it’s to point out that nostalgia is bad. I just finished Recursion by Blake Couch, which was absolutely wonderful, but he’s in the nostalgia-is-bad-camp. I guess if you completely surrender to it, that’s bad, but a little nostalgia indulgence is okay … right?

I recently posted a picture of a speaker in the sub-basement of the ASPCA that took me back, and below is a shot of more old-time speakers that I pass by on my way to work. It’s a display window in the store at the Times Square Subway Station.

About twenty feet from this window is a Hare Krishna guy who sings that damn song, “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare …” every damn morning. I keep worrying that it will become a brain worm, but then it occurred to me: this guy has sung this mantra so many times he must have carved it into his brain by now. He probably hears it in his head day and night, every single second, ceaselessly, unendingly. Poor guy. But maybe it brings him peace.

There are three. Bodhi on the left, Bleecker on my lap, and Bali to the right. My apartment looks kinda messy, but it’s actually very clean, and mostly straightened up.

I’d arranged for the Department of Sanitation to pick this up from the curb tomorrow, but apparently I am not ready to let it go. It’s a shelving unit that belonged to my mother. I’ve had it for almost twenty years but I’ve kept it folded up and have never used it.

I’m not keeping it for sentimental reasons. I’m the opposite of a hoarder, I love paring down my possessions. Why can’t I let this go?? It’s pretty. Maybe if I had someone to give it to?