Stacy Horn

My tribute movie to Buddy is pretty much done except for picking a soundtrack, except I might skip the soundtrack altogether. I can’t find the song that sums up how I feel, ie: “You were the greatest thing in the world and now you’re dead.”

I was hunting around for a specific movie clip of Buddy and instead found lots of pictures that I’d rejected and thrown away. I pulled out two. Not because they’re good, but because it hit me, this is it. No more new pictures of Buddy ever again. All the pictures I have now are all the pictures I will ever have.

This first one was taken at the end of this year’s spring cleaning. I was going for a panoramic shot of my sparkly and ridiculously clean apartment.

The one below was taken on June 26th, two months before Buddy died. I was still feeling hopeful then. Now it feels sad to see him look outside, with longing, toward a world that would soon go on without him. He always wanted to go out there (to kill birds!) and of course I never let him. And now that’s all over. Oh God.

This shot kinda kills me. I think it’s because I can’t do anything nice for him anymore. I can’t let him out there, not that I ever would. I can’t give him toys, or treats or food, or take him to vet to help him feel better. I can’t pull out the laser pointer which made him go insane he was so anxious to chase that little red light.

I so loved doing whatever made him happy. If you have a pet you know exactly what I’m talking about. For dog owners it must be reaching for the leash and your dog going nuts. It’s such a pleasure for the both of you, when you can give them exactly what they want. Poor little Buddy.

And you can hear it here. (Recorded by NASA, more info here.)

The view at my hair salon. There’s a view of One World Trade on the other side, but I’ve already posted too many pictures of 1WTC already, so I’m posting this one instead. This is looking southwest, and that’s the Hudson.

I heard the Cello Concerto No. 1 in A Minor by the French composer Camille Saint-Saëns on WQXR the other day, and realized I know nothing about him. Looking him up now … oh, the saddest part of his Wikipedia entry:

In 1875, nearing forty, Saint-Saëns married Marie Laure Emile Truffot, who was just 19. They had two sons, both of whom died in 1878, within six weeks of each other, one from an illness, the other upon falling out of a fourth-story window. For the latter death Saint-Saëns blamed his wife, and when they went on vacation together in 1881 he simply disappeared one day. A separation order was enacted, but they never divorced.

I wonder whatever happened to Marie Laure Emile Truffot. Googling turns up that same small piece of information over and over. According to one French genealogy site, she died in 1950 having never married again. Well, I guess she couldn’t if they never divorced. How sad for the both of them. He took three years to disappear one day. It makes me think they tried to get past it. But it’s hard to get over the death of a child, never mind two within six weeks of each other. What was the rest of Marie’s life like? Did she have friends and lovers? Did she blame herself for her second child’s death for the rest of her life, too? Surely someone has written about her.

Oh here’s something interesting about Saint-Saëns. Apparently, he “called for a suppression of all German music during World War I.” Coincidentally, in my book I have a small section about a similar movement in America during WWII, and I belittle the attempt. Interesting that a French composer tried to do the same thing.

There was a bake sale in the Bleecker Street playground the other day, and of course I had to buy a cupcake. I’m going to tell Bleeck (my new kitten) that the playground and the street are named in his honor, for he is the most fabulous new kitten in the West Village.

I haven’t really made an effort to gather Twitter followers, because there’s only so much effort one can put into getting people to read you, listen to you, link to you, like you, follow you, etc. Either they come across you and like what they see or read or they don’t. Period.

I have a book coming out however, so I have to give it a little more thought. The first thing I notice is how many people have thousands of Twitter followers and I have, well, a few hundred. SO embarrassing. If anyone has advice about how to get more followers I’d love to hear it.

I started trying to change the look of my Twitter page, but I’m having technical difficulties. Of course. Moan, groan, nothing is ever easy, blah-blah-blah.

Some performers at Union Square. I was sitting on the steps behind them so I couldn’t hear what they were saying to the gathering crowd. It seemed like they were basically saying or doing (and wearing) anything to get people to watch. Given the topic of this post, featuring them seems appropriate.

I am absolutely shaken and freaked out about this article in the Smithsonian magazine about Thomas Jefferson the slave-owner. You have to read it to the end.

It is well known that Jefferson owned slaves, slept with his slaves, etc. But he has always been portrayed as a reluctant, mostly benevolent slave owner, who abhored the situation, but was kinda trapped and always trying to figure a humane way out, and apparently that wasn’t at all true.

Not only was he cruel and allowed horrendous cruelties to continue, and specifically barbaric treatment of children, it was in order to continue to make profits, and profits over and above what he needed. When offered a way out—the money he needed to free his slaves and to be able to continue to maintain his house and life style—he declined.

Maybe someone will come along and refute this research, but it’s horrible on the face of it. I have to completely revisit everything I thought I knew about Jefferson.

One World Trade Center minutes before I heard there was a tornado watch in New York City. (End times.)