new in travel

New post in the travel blog. The link to it is on the right hand side of the blog screen -- it says 'Flip Worldwide.' Check it out.

I will be writing more later. Right now I am drained and letting myself sink into a quiet morosity. (Which isn't a word, but think of it as morose + ity.)

I do have this to say at the present time, however:

Negative people are terrible to be around.
Negative people are angry people.
Negative people try very hard to bring others down around them, especially those in close proximity.
It's very hard not to let negativity get under one's skin, especially when it's personal.

However, ...

Positive people are wonderful to be around.
Positive people are at peace.
Positive people do not have to try to bring people up, they simply do so.

Thank goodness I have a few positive people in my life to counteract those who are constantly unhappy.

6/20

What a rainy, gray day. After all the praise I've been heaping upon the weather, you'd think it'd try and stay sunny for me. But alas, no such luck. The sky is brightening somewhat, and it's supposed to be quite hot by the late afternoon ... however, it's already close to 1pm, so I'm not holding my breath.

I do have to admit that I like New York City in the rain, especially Manhattan. The streets get slick and wet, and all the electric signs and lights reflect off the pavement. Pedestrians move quicker than usual, and I love watching their umbrellas bob over their heads. They always remind me of wet balloons. The sights and colors all blend together and it starts to feel like some sort of crazy carnival. Bright shop signs popping against the dark sky, damp clothes smelling of closets and mothballs, rubber rain boots blurring past in dizzying yellows ... I enjoy it all. There's something satisfying about getting soaked to the skin while walking around the city. It feels nice and natural. And colorful.

Brooklyn is a little more depressing in the rain. There's less people bustling about, so you see fewer umbrellas and rain boots. There aren't many electric signs either, so you miss out on the experience of watching their light flicker across wet streets. Everything is a little damper and grayer in Brooklyn.

Then again, Queens is worse than Brooklyn in dreary weather. Well, this is at least true for the Astoria areas. Things seem very dismal in the rain there for some reason. Queens in general tends to be even more residential than Brooklyn, so perhaps that's why. It feels like any suburban neighborhood getting peed on by the rain gods, instead of some urban wonderland. (Admittedly, I'm not a big fan of Queens in the first place.)

But enough about the weather. Here's an interesting little sight I saw while on a walk yesterday:

It's an old water pump and frying pan that someone turned into art. The person who made it draped metal chains from the pump to the pan to look like water. I loved it. Very creative. It was just sitting there by some one's front stoop.

I took a long walk yesterday. I normally stick to the same streets, but I ventured to a different avenue this time. I walked about 30 blocks and 4 avenues, which isn't a huge distance but enough to get the legs stretched out and blood pumping.

I love to walk, like most New Yorkers. It's what we do best. Everyone walks here, young and old. I always tell potential visitors to bring tennis shoes. "You'll be walking a lot," I tell them. Out-of-towners are always flabbergasted at what New Yorkers consider a short walk. "Oh, it's about a ten block hike," I say, and suddenly my visitors look at me with horror on their faces. But really, ten blocks isn't much. Probably not even a quarter of a mile.

It's the avenues that get you. Walk down the length of an entire avenue and you'll be on the go far longer than you need to. Streets = good, avenues = pain in the rear end. I always tell visitors to avoid walking down avenues when possible. It makes any trip shorter to avoid walking down their length.

In other news, here's what I've been up to in my own life:

Books I'm Currently Reading:

The Air Conditioned Nightmare, by Henry Miller

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, by Carson McCullers
My two textbooks on African politics and culture

Classes I'm Taking for the Summer:

World Cultures: Sub-Saharan Africa

Intensive Spanish I & II

Bands/Songwriters I'm Liking & Currently Listening To:

Amy Winehouse

Erykah Badu

Q-Tip

A Tribe Called Quest

Waste of Time:

The Sims 2

sleeping

avoiding doing anything productive by writing this blog

I'm terribly unmotivated to do work at the moment, especially musically. I need to plan some concerts or something, because if I don't have anything to work towards, I simply can't practice. Or won't. Whichever. Either way, it sucks.

I need to go figure out some musical plans for myself ...

have a happy day, and more posts to come (very) soon.

Oh, and weather update:

I spy blue skies.

summer is ...

Summer in New York City is:

buying cool treats from an ice cream truck

walking barefoot in the grass

watching the sun set with a beer and a friend

eating gazpacho soup at an outdoor cafe

enjoying the sunshine

planting flowers

wearing shorts

remembering to shave your legs so that you can wear shorts

hot dogs

hot cats and kids

kids playing ball in the street

expensive electric bills -- all those AC's and fans cost money to run!


My summer is off to a nice start. The weather is beautiful, my plants are doing well on the fire escape, and I have good friends to hang out with. Classes have begun again, which gives me something to focus on and work toward. Music is slow right now, but I'm hoping to get back into playing shape soon and stop putting off practicing all the time. It's just so hard in this nice weather!

I have some posts I am going to put up soon. Check back in a day or two for more.

mexican orphans & playing house

I was sitting in Prospect Park the other afternoon, stretched out on a patch of grass and thinking. There was nothing important being mused upon in my head, just random thoughts that floated past like the clouds in the sky above. Life, getting older, what to eat for dinner, bills to pay, school, books I need to write ...

A pair of little girls broke into the middle of these thoughts. They were standing near my head, talking in the loud and self important way that only children can pull off.

"Let's play house, okay?" one of the girls was saying. "You're the daddy and I'm the mommy."

This comment made me smile. It brought to mind memories of playing house when I was younger. I was never the daddy, and hardly ever the mommy -- I usually got stuck being the little sister or baby. I actually enjoyed these lesser roles, because that way I got more attention paid to me by everyone else. Babies and sisters need attention from pretend mommies and daddies, after all.

"Okay, I'm the daddy and you're the mommy." This, coming from the other little girl.

"And we're rescuing faeries."

"Yeah, we're going to rescue fairies. We're orphans who save faeries."

A happy squeal errupted near my left ear. I heard feet trample around in a running pattern as I looked up into the blue sky above. I hadn't quite managed to flip myself over enough to get a good look at the two girls playing, but I knew plenty from listening to them. Under the age of eight, probably dolled out in the color pink, and fans of stories about homeless and impoverished little children their own age who get adopted by magical aunties or grandmothers. That was pretty much me at that age.

The two girls ran about rescuing the faeries of the world for a good four or five minutes. I heard their dialogue the entire time, trilling voices weaving stories about a duo of kids who save magical creatures. The orphan theme made me smile. I had always been a fan of being an orphan in games, as well. I never had any idea why, except that it seemed appealing to be alone in the world but able to stand up to it anyway.

When I finally mustered the energy to turn over onto my stomach, I got a good look at the two girls. They were kneeling in the grass, pulling up clumps of daffodils and speaking in quick, light voices. The two were very somber in expression, taking their job of playing very seriously.

"We're helping a girl from Mexico run away from her evil stepmother."

The taller of the two girls, a fair skinned brunette, informed her smaller colleague of this new twist in plans. "She has a really mean stepmother who isn't nice to her and she has to run away. She can't go back to Mexico."

"Okay, we have to figure out her escape route." This, coming from the little blonde member of the duo.

"Yeah, she can't go back to Mexico or her stepmother will hurt her. Her stepmother is in Mexico, so we have to help her cross the border safely."

Well, this was interesting. I didn't even have a concept of Mexico at that age. My town was home, and everything else was just kind of nebulous. I'd done extensive traveling even at that young of an age, but the idea of Other Countries didn't really exist yet, let alone a concept of America or the United States.

Listening to the two girls brought up many memories for me. It was poignant, because it made me realize how long ago I'd stopped playing those sort of games. I'm not even sure I'd know how anymore. I'd wonder about bills getting paid and how daddy and mommy would work to support their babies and sisters. I'd feel silly prancing around a house made of twigs and leaves instead of bricks and plaster. I'd wonder if other people were staring at me for trying to be a little kid.

I was getting older, no question about it. This game drove it home for me. I was getting older and there was nothing I could do about it. It was a sad moment. I'd traded in playing house for wondering if I'd ever be able to afford a real home.

Then there was the whole issue of Mexico being tossed into the play acting I witnessed. It seemed an odd thing to toss into a story. Immigration issues weren't such a current event in my day. While there were tensions over it, illegal immigration hadn't yet errupted as a major political issue. Had things changed so much that little girls now bring international affairs into playing house?

"I'm tired."

"Yeah, me too. Let's go see Emmie."

"Yeah, okay. We can play house later."

The two little girls ran off, leaving me alone again with my thoughts. I flipped myself onto my back, and stared at the sky. The clouds were still floating past, the day was still sunny, and the same old questions came bouncing back into my head. What to eat for dinner, bills to pay, school, books I need to write ...

but this time, every few minutes, two new thoughts came sneaking back in:

1) When did I get too old to play house with my friends?

and

2) Why Mexico?

park slope in bloom part 3

A bath tub full of blossoms up close ...

and from far away.

Bamboo grows anywhere, including in urban gardens.

park slope in bloom part 2

park slope in bloom

People tend to think that Brooklyn is a bleak place lacking in any kind of greenery. While on a walk today, I decided to set the record straight. In a 20 block radius of Park Slope, I took nearly two dozen photos on my cell phone camera to prove that people really do care about their yards and gardens here, and that Brooklyn has plenty to offer to those who enjoy all things natural ...

even in an urban setting.

These are a few of the things I saw ... more photos to come.

A sculpture flashes the peace sign ...

A spare patch of land can be turned into a jungle of flowers and bushes.

Fences look classier when draped in white blooms.

Even sidewalks can use a little help ...

Row homes always look better with a little decorating!

documentary clip

This youtube clip is part one in a five part series from the Discovery Channel. I think it's a reminder about how precious life is, and how much we have to be thankful for in being able to live in a relatively free nation:






I have watched all 5 parts to the documentary online, and it is worth hunting down all of the clips. I haven't been able to find it on dvd, but it might be able to be ordered from discovery.

I am so thankful to be alive and living in a place that allows me personal expression and freedom.

found

Just to let everyone know ...

Ra Ra Riot's drummer John Pike was found yesterday after an air and sea rescue search. His body was found floating in about 7 feet of ocean water. He had drowned, and was declared dead at the scene.

Condolences to his family, friends and band mates.

There is a wonderful place to grab Moroccan food on my street. It's a small cafe with a beautiful back yard set up with all sorts of tables and chairs. The food is amazing, the owner is a native of Morocco, and the wait staff are always pleasant. Everyone seems happy when they are there. It's a nice place to be.

One of my favorite things about the place (other than the chicken tagine and amazing hummus) is the resident cat. He belongs to the neighborhood, a slinky black creature who recently fathered a litter of kittens. A waitress politely informed me that "kitty kitty" was actually named Puma.

Puma is *quite* the character. He rubs up against the legs of patrons, snatching up attention like bits of lamb. Puma stares at the dinner plates with a hungry gleam in his eye, despite looking very well fed. He is an absolute gem.

Luckily enough for me, I was able to snap a photo of him yesterday evening:

missing

This is a bit of an unusual post. I'm doing this on behalf of the band Ra Ra Riot (who are good) and were managed for a time by a friend of mine. I have heard the band live, and they seem like nice people and solid musicians.

This posting went out this morning to friends of the band on myspace, and I feel like I need to share it:

"Last night our drummer John Pike went missing at 3 am. He was last seen in Fairhaven, MA wearing a yellow t-shirt and jeans. If you have any information on where he may be, know anyone in the Fairhaven area, or spoke with him after 2 am saturday morning, please contact Fairhaven police immediately as well as John's mother, Paula Pike - (978) 835 2140. We appreciate any information."

There is a photo of the drummer on Ra Ra Riot's myspace page.

If anyone has any information, please contact the above number. I'll keep you posted if/when he is found. (And no, this is NOT a joke.)