Halloween---surreal...

 Going out at around 6 to get some food, I pass some teen-agers dressed in Halloween outfits. A surreal picture---is there actually a Halloween during this pandemic? The juxtaposition of the celebration and the demands of the pandemic seems strange. But there it is.

Interesting day today: began about 4 A. M. when I went to my grocery store, four blocks south, and ordered three slices of American cheese on a plain bagel. (I never order more then three slices---don't want to get stuffed). Why up so early? I had ordered an Accessoride car to take me to my voting place at 102nd and Amsterdam at 7:30. Thought that the bagel and cheese would keep me full until that, and that I would remain in my apartment until the ride came, but to my surprise, around 5, I felt an incredible need for coffee and something sweet. Took off again, this time to the 24 hour cart on 78th and Broadway and asked for some coffee and a donut. The coffee was not ready; the gentleman in the cart said it would be in a half hour,  so I simply bought the donut. That felt good, but about a half hour later the coffee urge returned, so I now made my third trip out---returning to the cart where the coffee was indeed ready. Finally sated, I awaited my ride to the school where the early voting was scheduled.

Arrived an found an enormous line---not moving. The venue was scheduled to open at 7, but I have a feeling that by the time I got there, around 7:40, it was still unprepared. Anyway, the line was endless---stacked around two blocks--and I knew I could not stay. I did not even bother to see if there was a special senior citizen line--it did not matter, I just got away from there. Took an 11 bus back to the apartment---bought some more food---yes, in spite of all the previous intakes, I was hungry again--and returned home. I did not order a ride for return---somehow I don't mind being taken somewhere, but once there, I like to make my own decision, create my own pace for returning. The "price" for this independence this morning was a freezing walk south on Columbus Avenue; it does not matter: somehow I feel my autonomy is worth it. 

I will try to vote early Tuesday morning at my regular voting place, two blocks away from my apartment. Will go early---last presidential election I was third on line---got there at 5:30---I will try to repeat that feat, but if what I have seen is any indication, I might hacantve a lot of company.

Rest of the day in the apartment--listened to most of Norma, the opera by Bellini, found the first act of a production of Les Mis, and watched that, and finally am waiting for an all Mozart concert by the Philharmonic at 8. It contains one my most favorite of Mozart's piano concertos, number 22---can't wait to hear it again. The Mozart piano concertos are very special to me---they really stand out in his work. At any rate that is the plan--tomorrow I have four bets going on NFL teams---we will see how that turns out.

thoughts on a fall afternoon.....

 about 2:30-yy-have finished all my tasks (laundry, banking, book searching) and am back at the apartment---aside for food for supper will not go out again today. Time becomes motionless, undefined, nothing to do but read and use the computer. Of course, there are some things that I am avoiding. I should find out what kind of co pay the radiation treatments that I expect to receive when the chemo is finished will cost. I should be considering the virtues and non virtues of remaining with my current Medicare supplementary plan. Are their less expensive co pays for the treatment that I am receiving, or do all the supplementary plans keep the prices similar? It would behoove me to find the answers to this and other pertinent questions, as I am seeing a lot of doctors between now and the end of the treatment. But I slack it off 

Tomorrow it is supposed to rain all day---will really be stuck in the apartment---I suppose I can find out some of the answers to these questions tomorrow or Friday. Today, then it is just between surfing the computer and the books---one, the John Grisham mystery-novel that I interrupted so that I could immerse myself in Sherwin Nuland's autobiography---and secondly, a book of short stories by a writer whom I really admire---Kathleen Collins. I found the book on the one dollar shelf in front of the used book store which I wrote about in yesterday's entrees. Ms. Collins, who died in the late eighties, was the director--writer of the movie, Losing Ground--one of my favorites. She is considered one of the finest afro-American writers of her generation, even if her output was small. Looking forward to getting into those stories. What else...? Well, no sports tonight, for the first time in a long time. Where does that leave me..? Listening to Bob Sherman and his young artists---going on youtube for some old baseball films...? I suppose anything is possible. Well, let's see what happens, I will report soon.

Early Tuesday Evening...a

around 7, when I think about it I have accomplished a lot today---good session with the health care nurse who helps me replace the ostomy bag; a good conversation with my brother David where we went back in time and talked about many incidents and memories of the past. Very meaningful. David soldiers on in the face of very difficult physical odds. He should really be admired for that. Luckily he has his wife, his daughter and her husband and his friends. A very supportive group. Still, he has to cope with a lot. 

Other stuff: paid a credit card monthly fee; got very inexpensive toothpaste---browsed the Shakespeare and Company bookstore for a while; I don't dare to buy any book now, as I am on an austerity budget, or at least trying to adhere to one. Thank heaven for the used book store on Broadway between 80th and 81st street. It has been very helpful. I scan their one dollar shelf as often as possible. On Saturday, came up with an exceptional auto biography called Lost in America, by Sherwin Nuland. It came out in 2003--it is really a study of the author's relationship with his father and with the environment that he lived in until his early twenties. This environment was dominated by family members who spoke mostly yiddish, who were intimidated by much of New York city life, and who could barely survive economically. In the course of his growing up, the author works hard to separate himself from his hermetically sealed environment, but of course, since it is his family, he must return and face its reality from time to time, even into his twenties. Very good picture of a certain kind of Jewish experience for a young man growing up in the late thirties and early 40's. A family still trying to live by rules created in the home towns in Europe that they had left to come to America. Holding on to them with a vengeance. Nevertheless, the author becomes a successful doctor---had to deal with one year of a frightening break down, recovers and lives to be a successful surgeon and finally write this excellent book.  More of this some other time---the people the author writes about were figures (somewhat peripheral  but nevertheless present) from my childhood.  Their vision, their cadences, their world outlook still seems very familiar to me, even as I myself, like the author, have managed to exist in a totally different zone.

the rest of the night---not sure---will probably go back to the John Grisham novel---a very efficient page turner---maybe listen to the world series a bit, and then....time is always free, as we move towards November.

of "bricks and windows, windows and bricks"

 Have just watched a little bit of the 1999 revival of Death of a Salesman, the one that began at the Goodman Theater in Chicago and moved to Broadway a year later. Brian Dennehy played Willie, and one of the reasons that I did not rush to see it was that I had trouble accepting him as Willie--too large, not vulnerable enough in my opinion. While I won't say the streaming actually bears this out, I still would like to see a smaller, hungrier actor in the role. Willie is constanI tly searching for recognition, somehow, I don't see someone who looks like Dennehy having that problem. Still, a lot of people I know or heard speak of the revival felt it was very powerful.

   First really got into the play in my junior year at Hopkins when we did it. I tried out for Willie, gave what I thought was a very good audition, but was cast as Charlie instead. I was also allowed to assistant direct; that turned out to be fruitful. it was the first time I worked with actors---a good experience. Playing "uncle" Charlie, such a passive type was a drag, but in the end, not casting me as Willie was of major importance. After Hopkins, in my 20's, while I was living in NY and "finding myself", there was a double edged sword to my existence, On one hand, I was felt disappointed: where had the energy and force and inventiveness of my senior year at Hopkins gone to? Here I was doing social work, outside of the artistic world I felt that I belonged in and could compete in. On the other hand I was in my twenties, being all things that twenty somethings are---socially finding out about myself, etc. I needed to not be involved in theater, just to get my bearings as a person. Still, I was angry that my "senior Hsopkins self" ---the leader and inventive head of the school theater group, the Barnstormers, was lying dormant. Playing Willie---success of failure---would have been simply another rebuke, another reminder that I had walked away from my what I had accomplished at Hopkins---something that I would have to live down.

Anyway, here I sit, many years later, looking at the whole thing. Still, let's think about the play---how did a thirty three year old man have such insight into his characters as Miller did. Sometimes I think that is amazing. For this production I watched a few scenes, felt that I had seen as much as I needed to. It is a "quiet" day--I am on my own, and so will probably read a bit and listen to the radio before the football game (Giants-Eagles) that I have invested my own money in. Nothing much else to say, will report soon.

A day without much structure,....

Nothing planned, should be a little bit relaxing, but instead leaves me restless. Monday was chemo day, so I hustled over to the Cancer Center on 86th near Madison and took my four hours of treatment. Good interactions with nurses, nutritionist and a few others. Its a very organized place and it was good to see how well the the staff--nurses, young doctors, etc. worked together. That took care of Monday.Yesterday I had interaction with Jill, the nurse who comes from the after care center at Northwell, and helps me with my ostomy bag, which by the way, on Monday morning, in an emergency, I put on myself. Jill stays for about 25 minutes: she watches me put on a new bag, takes my blood pressure, cuts me some new bags, and is generally helpful. But again, there is real contact there. Need that.

Yesterday after Jill's visit, I headed to the used bookstore that has somehow managed to remain on Broadway near 81 street. Checked out $1.00 books out front, chose two, one a John Gresham mystery, which I am reading now (interesting in a formulaic way) and the other called In the Neighborhood, by a writer I don't know. It looked interesting---an exploration of a neighborhood in Rochester NY, where the author tries to discover what his neighbors are like. At least I think that is what it is about. After buying the books, I spent about a half hour, browsing the inside of the bookstore, where the books, still used, are a little more expensive. I would have liked to buy a book about a home in a black neighborhood in Philidelphia, and the changes it goes through over the years. But it was $8,00, and I did not want to spend that much---besides, I had to do justice to the two books I had just bought a lot----history, fiction, plays, sports, but did not take anything. I felt very stimulated while I was in the bookstore.

Finally, used the last part of the afternoon, to join an online betting world. I have decided that i am a good enough football spread handicapper to take some financial risks, so I deposited $80.00 in an online betting site, which the site soon made $120.00 Two bets for Thursdays game which pits the Giants against the Eagles. Took Eagles to be ahead by 3 at the half, and 4 at the end of the game. Pretty nice odds for a team that, even if they are banged up, should have the will to dominate the Giants, a team that is still getting it all together. What will happen? We shall see. I want to be very patient and careful as I choose my bets this year, no impulse gambling. 

Well, that is it---back to Mr. Grisham's mystery and maybe a few calls to friends. Will report soon.

Friday morning......

 Yesterday's life was so full of structure. A visit to Lenox Hill for a cat scan, requested by the doctor who is my radiologist. Arrived at about 10:30; stayed there until about 1:30. Some frustrating moments: previous cat scans did not have any preparation; for this one I had to drink a very large amount of water---probably mixed in with something else. Then threre was the waiting, and finally the cat scan itself. By this time, I was starving---but I still had to see my radiologist. When I arrived at her office, she was with another patient---I was having a tough time physically---not happy, one of her office assitants made a nice attempt to calm me down---finally she arrived and we had our session. The good news: the tumor did not grow at all since the last cat scan. Encouraging. The bad news: some very small lesions in my lungs---the doctor felt they were too small to examine---might be nothing, but might also be.....well you can guess. At any rate, we are going to wait to see the results of the chemo before making any decision. Chemo continues on Monday---not much going on until then.

Today very little structure---the after care nurse will help me with my ostomy bag, which by now, I am sure that I can change by myself---yet---I hesitate. I have to protest part of my spectrum bill---might do that today, also the department of labor of NYS in all its glory, now wants me to present a driver's licence--passport and social security card before benefits can be released. How petty of them! I have been on unemployment since 2000---they have as much information as they need--plus, I don't have a Social Security card---so I had to order one, and I will never get it in at the deadline that they set in the letter. Do they really know what they are doing there? This gets me so angry---I am ready to give up on them.

Rest of the time: continue reading Dynasty---maybe a little bit of Letting Go, try to do some budget planning (which I am always doing in my head, anyway) Will I get out and go where...? It is supposed to be a rainy day, so time will tell.

D

Struggling with demons---real and imagined.....

 Yesterday a tough day---don't even ask me why?  A little spillage while my friend Harlo was installing my new computer---not the easiest thing to deal with. Got it under control. 

This morning---awoke at around 2:30 A.M. Needed some coffee and a muffin. Determined not to wait. So, per usual, got dressed and embarked for the grocery store four blocks away, sometimes it seems like my second home, during the pandemic and my health problems. 3 A.M. east side of West End Avenue, very quiet, many doormen, I am usually the only person on the street. Four blocks going---pick up my coffee and muffin and then do the four blocks that return me to my apartment. A great journey! Well, it is a little daring to do this at 3A.M, and don't forget that I have also done this at 4 or 2 A.M. as well. Return to the apartment and enjoy the fruits of my labor---good coffee and a muffin that fulfills my sugar quota. Then back to sleep, usually. 

Now, almost 7 A.M. Ostomy bag change today---my nurse-helper Jill will visit me and we will change the bag together---except that I have almost reached the point where I can do it myself. Still, I wait....

Waiting means entertaining myself, since I have already taken my first trip outside. This is not easy, as I am anxious to finish the change---what are my reading options? A few days ago, I bought a book from a second hand bookstore a few blocks away. It is Dynasty---a sixteen year comprehensive history of the Yankees through their winning years----1949-1964. I had read the book before---actually when it first came out---I remember the time well, early summer of 1975. That was right before I began my affair with Nancy--the affair which lasted through January of 76, and which I was responsable for ending---or at least moving out of the comitted picture. A stable relationship, we did a lot of things together---we enjoyed seeing movies and plays---I was working as a "counselor" at the time on the lower east side---a school two blocks south of Houston Street called PS 4. But it had to end. Soon I would embark on my next relationship---one that would prove a lot more devastating in the end. But my time with Nancy created a relative calm in my life---how did I get into this...? Oh yes, the book about the Yankees. At the same used bookstore a few days ago, I saw Philip Roth's Letting Go---his first novel after his major success with the novella Goodbye Columbus and some telling short stories----and bought that for a dollar. This is a novel that I have read parts of many times---still always interests me. The narrator, a young would be writer, finds himself involved with a married couple about his age---and what follows are the ramifications of that triangle. Of course the book is enormous---about 600 pages---so the narrator encounters and is involved with many others as well. How much of it will I read...? Not sure---it is kind of like having an old friend around--but yesterday as I was reading the opening chapter I was surprised by how many new ideas I was encountering. I first read the novel in my Junior year at Hopkins---probably some heavy memories linked to that as well.

But as for now....I wait.....

tough day, today....

 couldn't hold on to anything---failure to allow what was possible to me in the apartment---books, internet, sports on radio---to excite me. At one point, stuffed food into my mouth---stomach a "little" hungry, but as soon as I absorbed the food, knew how silly it was. That was the straw that broke the camel's back: I realized that I was not being good to myself by putting the food into my mouth. Two phone calls calmed me down---I await the beginning of the Yankee--Ray game, which should take me into the later part of the night. But still, so many possibilities just on youtube---how many obscure operas that I might want to listen to---all of early Verdi---the many operas before Rigoletto----a book full of short stories by Lewis Auchincloss---you know how much I respect him---all the Theater Arts books sitting to the left of me---each one with a play that I might want to read  (they range from the "serious" i.e. Waiting For Godot to the frivolous Time Out for Ginger)---yet as stimulating as they might be I can't feell excited by the possibility of getting involved with them.

How does one "break the funk"? Good question---perhaps I can find out soon. Tomorrow I face the same kind of schedule---can I be little nicer to myself. Well, lets see what happens, will report soon.

Here I sit...

waiting for the home health nurse to help me change my ostomy bag. Could do it myself, but simply don't feel ready. Yesterday afternoon, almost had a crisis, but headed it off.  Need one more turn with the helper. I am simply not used to doing this, not a part of my life. But I still have about two hours before she arrives.

I find myself, in my spare time, going to Google maps and looking at areas of the Bronx where I could have had friends or which were mostly Jewish communities when I was growing up. I look at the street pictures and see the whole thing, the kids, the families, the single people who in their own way were "different" or outcasts. A whole world. So why did it end? It had to, our parents had gone as far as they could go, economically and emotionally. We were happy there as kids, but at the same time, taught that for us, there had to be something "better" in the outside world to strive for. Yes, we had to achieve more---certainly economically more then our parents. And that meant better homes, jobs, etc. If your were in your late teens or early twenties in the sixties, so many things were opening up in areas different from where we were raised, Rents in Manhattan were cheap---it was easy to find places to live---by oneself---there. And then, by 1967, came the "sexual revolution" which meant and in a minute, women who left college unmarried, and were considered in some circles, "desperate" now could live freely, experiment with more than one lover, and be considered the "vanguard" of the new liberty. In four years, the women who were engaged by the time they finished their four years of college, or getting married the moment they left college had gone from being scene as "successes" to women who needed to shelter themselves too much. In 1962, if you heard about a couple unmarried, living together, eyebrows would have been raised---now, it was a very normal thing. This could not take place in the "safe" Jewish communities of the Bronx and Brooklyn, where they had been raised---it needed a new space---like Manhattan. 

 And our parents grew old and frightened as "others" moved into their neighborhood with different mores. Some moved to old age communities in Florida or to safer parts of the Bronx, like Riverdale. Landlords wanted more and more rent, and rent laws favored the families that had moved into those buildings in the 30's, 40's 50's. It was a world which had to end---its children provided it with no future.