Wednesday mid morning....

not a lot to report since yesterday----after three sessions I felt knocked out and so simply returned to the apartment and rested for the rest of the evening. Not what I would have liked, but the best I could do. No work today---I did get a New York State tax form, and instead of doing the "library thing" first, in a rush I returned to my apartment, and in less then 40 minutes, did and sent off my New York State tax return? Did I push it too fast---make any mistakes? I wonder, but I was obsessed with sending it out and ultimately receiving my refund. I had done my Federal tax return last week.
  Today kind of free---I do want to watch the Democratic debate tonight and see how the former mayor of New York does. I am anxious to see what is brought up from his past. Still trying to figure out the best place to see it---if I want to go to Bushwick, there are two bars that are having it (one is an activist bar---I can simply sip on a coke and watch it there) or if I prefer, I think La Flaca will be showing it. A lot will just depend on how I feel.
  I finished Janet Woodson's novel Red at the Bone, about three generations of black women and there men, living (mostly) in Brooklyn. Really good--now all I have out of the library are short stories by the two John's: Updike, and starting yesterday, Cheever. Not too appetizing---would like to find something else to read soon.
  I belong to one group on Facebook, it is called Growing Up in the Bronx in the 40's, 50's and 60's. Kind of friendly but a little superficial, today commented on a post about the closeness of the old Yankee Stadium and the Polo Grounds. On a Saturday in late August 55, I had just returned from camp, I went to Giant--Milwaukee game. It lasted into the 12th inning, finally Danny O'Connell hit a homer for the Braves that won it. After the game, I somehow could not find the D train subway---but I stumbled upon an old elevated line that took me, quite confused, from the Polo Grounds to the 167th subway station on the Jerome Avenue line. I later found out this "shuttle" was a vestige of the old ninth avenue subway that had not been torn down like the rest of the line. A strange afternoon, I remember feeling a little frightened and disoriented as I tried to get home. I was just approaching 12 at the time.
  With that memory I will sign off---will report soon.