Stacy Horn

– I read an essay by Rebecca Bazell, who lived in the same building as Etan Patz, (the six year old who went missing in 1979). It made me curious about her. She was ten at the time of Etan’s disappearance, who did she grow up to be? An amazing painter, among other things. If I was a rich person I’d buy her paintings. Attention rich people: buy her paintings.

– The power of singing. Remember Anders Behring Breivik? The guy who murdered 69 people last year in Norway, mostly kids, in order to halt what he saw as encroaching multi-culturalism? Apparently he hated a song called “Children of the Rainbow.” Well, 40,000 people gathered in Norway to sing it in protest of his anti-immigration views. A lovely response to a terrible, terrible thing.

– A new particle has been discovered. Why isn’t this bigger news? Not that I fully understand what it means, but still. It seems like a big deal.

Someone tied a bunch of daffodils to a railing on 11th Street. Thank you, someone.

Watch this P&G ad for the Olympics. In response, Salon had an interesting essay yesterday titled, Motherhood is not a job.

I’m comfortable with calling motherhood a job. I think I only have a problem with calling it the most important job, as if what the rest of us do, or what else we do, is not as important, as the author of the essay pointed out (Mary Beth Williams). Calling motherhood a job started because for so long being a mom wasn’t considered as important as what the man does. The problem is, calling motherhood a job feels condescending, depending on who is saying it and how. It’s like a pat on the head. Even this ad, which made me sob and sob and sob, is like a really artful pat on the head. The children are the ones who are achieving greatness and getting awards. The mothers are getting a really moving and well-deserved thank you. It’s another version of “behind every great man there’s a great woman.” Yes, it’s pointing out that the woman helped him get there, and that he couldn’t have gotten there without her, but the man did the great thing. It’s another way of saying thank you.

This video makes me sob because the “thank you” feels so genuine. The whole thing is so wonderfully done, from beginning to end. To see the children’s gratitude and acknowledgment for all their mother’s work and sacrifice, and to watch the mothers witnessing the fruits of their labors, I’m tearing up again just writing about it. But what about the dads?

Delivery!

I can’t wait. Carole King has written so many great songs for so many great artists (including herself, of course) over so many decades. Can. Not. Wait. I’ll be back tomorrow with photographs, hopefully. The Loser’s Lounge regularly does tribute shows to various musical artists.

By the way, Carole King was on Piers Morgan recently and she looked absolutely fabulous and beautiful. Better than she did when she was young! She doesn’t look like she’s had work. If she did, she’s the rare star whose work turned out well.

On my way home yesterday, I passed by a mob of young girls crowded around a store window screaming and singing. I asked what they were looking at and was told that inside was a band called The Wanted. I googled them when I got home. (Because I do not have a smart phone. So deprived. Pity me!!) They’re a boy band from the UK.

Yesterday, I mentioned a photograph I saw at the Municipal Archives in 2002 that has haunted me ever since. I decided not to post it, and if you follow this link to see it you’ll probably be shocked that I would even consider posting it.

The caption reads: “Homicide victim (male) undersize, naked bloated man [ship captain murdered by crew].”

With the exception of crime scene photographs involving children, this man is the most vulnerable, saddest, sorriest-looking homicide victim I have ever seen. I’ve come across photographs that are more gruesome, but the combination of his spread-out nakedness, the swelling, the squalid setting, it’s just so pathetic. Perhaps he was a miserable, awful human being and his crew had plenty of reasons to hate him, but still. Who was he? What led to this moment? What was the aftermath?

The photograph comes from a collection of glass plate negatives that are sitting in the basement of One Police Plaza. They sit in piles in a small caged room, cracking anytime someone steps too hard. They’re in bad shape and continually getting worse and eventually there will be nothing left if something isn’t done about them. (And maybe something has been done since the last time I was down there.)

I was going to post a more fun picture, but now that feels inappropriate! So I will post this one instead. I took this yesterday, walking back from the DMV.

The Municipal Archives has just put 870,000 photographs online. The server is down a lot, probably because a million people like me are going crazy all over it.

“Thank you for visiting the Municipal Archives Online Gallery, due to high volume you may experience delays. Thank you for your patience.”

I wanted to show this picture I saw there in 2002 that has haunted me ever since. It’s a picture of a murder victim from around 1915. But that will have to wait, I’m not getting through right now. In any case, I’m sure they’ll work out all the bugs. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the infinity power, Municipal Archives!!

Yesterday, a few complimentary copies of the Japanese edition of my book Unbelievable arrived in the mail. So exciting!! Thank you again Sayaka Nakai, (translator) Mr. Izumi (the editor) and Mr. Matsuda (the book designer) and Kinokuniya (publisher)!!