Tuesday morning....

no work at Friends, kind of surprised by that since the day was pretty nasty, but nothing like the way the radio network meteorologists predicted; listening to them one might have expected a weather holocaust---brutal winds and rain---nothing like that--it rained all of last night, but on my two trips out, the temperature and humidity were pretty comfortable. No great shakes, I stayed in last night, reading a Harlan Coben mystery novel---it got me through---but I really could have gone out and survived it I had wished to. Still, did not want to play with possible subway flooding or take a trip to another borough because with all that water one could not predict anything---so remained indoors, read the book and then finally listened to a music program on WQXR which is profiling Mozart piano concertos this week. Those I really love; in the spring and summer of 1967, I immersed myself in Mozart's compositions---so I know the concertos really well. That was a strange time for me, working at the post office, trying to come to terms with my "failled" acting career--not sure where the future would lead me. By the summer, I had gotten a social work job at Riverdale Children's Agency, a foster home care agency, where I would remain for about 15 months. Good learning experience, liked the kids the supervised, my supervisor, a black man named Mr. Dean, was very encouraging.
That was also the year of my first "major" affair, with my friend Pat, Our relationship existed in two parts; from early January 68 to mid February, and then from early April to mid June. A good experience for both of us---we remained "in touch" for a couple of years, until she moved to Cape Cod, where I think she still lives.
   Pat lived on Saint Marks place, a little east of its beginning on third avenue, and I lived on Irving Place, about 10 blocks away. But it was 1968, and the contrast between the two neighborhoods was startling. One could not imagine a more placid or removed area then Irving Place and all of third Avenue north of 14th street. But once you crossed fourteenth street and moved south---you had entered the world of the counter culture---the six blocks I would travel from 14th to Saint Marks was a mad whirlwind of hippies, prostitutes, crazies and everything else. Going back to my apartment from hers, I would always breathe a sigh of relief once I crossed 14th, I knew that nothing would happen to me there. Wow, I remember those walks so well.
   Tomorrow I begin three days at Friends with a light schedule, that hopefully I can "beef up" to get full days. Not sure about tonight, but might visit the Gramercy Bar on 2nd and 20th where I had a good experience two weeks ago. Will report on it soon.