If I could get on a subway car...

and go to Brooklyn at this moment, I would. But it is close to 4A.M., Sunday, October 31, and even for someone as "adventurous" as me, a subway trip at this hour is impossible. So here I am, early in the morning, not wanting to go back to bed, with a crick in my neck that I am trying to understand, and the rest of my body feeling pretty good. 

So what now...? Talk about the body, the chemo, now down to just one a day, and moments when the body feels like it lacks muscles. But it does---there is just a different feeling then before. 

What have I done this week..? Well tutoring--got a new student on Thursday who needs a lot of input. Hope that I will continue with him. Tutoring feels very vital to me at this moment---really enjoy the interaction---and the pressure on me to help the student improve. Travels....? Well not many. Just the trips to the library on 145 street---several times this week---incidentally, two of the coffee places I would visit before or after a session in that area  have closed---one very suddenly. Only other trip of note was to the Harry Belafonte library in Harlem (115street) to pick up a book that was only at that place. Kind of interesting---for all the news of Harlem's gentrification---things looked pretty "scruffy" around there. The rest of the time---well I continue to read Henry Roth's novel---the one that brings me back to the echoes of my family---going slowly--sometimes it is a little too heavy for me. Then a sports book about the Nets of 2019-20---a little too much trivia in the beginning, but still i read on---and just took out a book by Michael Riedel which chronicles, in detail, several important theatrical eventsn of the 90's. Good to read---i followed most of those events closely, so the detail adds to what I mostly remember. A lot of detail--he must have worked hard to get that information An easy read.

Still no visits to a theater---just one movie--the world of "culture" in the city seems alive with possibilities. But can I take advantage of them? The illness and the chemo create a stamina issue---I can be tired by 6 or 7 P.M. Just imagine if I was well---I might see four plays this weekend. The Met has Die Meistersinger--would love to see one of those performances---only two more weekday choices---of course it is six hours long---possibly see the whole opera  in two different evenings ---first act one night--third act another---skip the second act---it is kind of bland in relation to the other two---that is one idea. Of course with 40 minute intermissions, I could easily make the 10 blocks to my apartment---make sure the bag was behaving itself, and then return to the Met. But could I do that twice..? Quite an assignment. 

This evening I thought of the time pre pandemic---choosing a play was easy---there was usually a friend---a part of the "indie community" who was performing somewhere. It was nice---everyone knew you---there was a purpose for being there---now where is "the community"? All over, how many of them know of my illness---things are so different now. What is next...? With all my current obstacles, can I regain my space..? We will see....

A Visit to a whole new world....

 How fortunate that a friend invited me to have breakfast with her at the hotel that she is staying at on west

40 street between 8th and 9th. Traveled by subway, off at 40th and 7th, then two blocks west---40 street between 8th and 9th--once a strange no man's land---seedy at best---now packed with hotels---there must have been five of them all in a row. Can they really exist beside each other in this economy.? But the street was filled with people, and the hotel where my friend was staying---the furthest west on the block, was alive with energy. Many people eating breakfast. Truly a different experience---a rush of people, an exciting energy all over---no sign of the emptiness that the pandemic caused. 

Now back at the apartment---quiet settles in. What did I get from this "adventure"? Just a sense that I would like to be moving around more. It is exciting to be 'other places" then the upper west side. So what does the future hold? Today---not sure, could be anything. Lots of football and basketball to follow...but where,,,?  Must find out---will report soon.

tough night...

several awakenings---chemo must be making my joints feel stiff. I awake and wonder if I will have any play in them. Of course I have---just get them to move. Just walked to the grocery store on the corner of 72nd and West End---just to get the joints in gear--grabbed some coffee---could have made it in the apartment, but had to get out, Now, back, have to wait it out until I tutor up at 145 street at 11.

All the nights at home. Can I change that? Challenge myself to do something in the evening. A movie, maybe a trip to Brooklyn and a simple walk on one of the major avenues. Usually I am simply tired. Yesterday two conversations, one with a friend the other with my sister in law. I was very cool. But not enough. 

Reading--yesterday for one dollar, bought the first of Henry Roth's autobiographical novels. His writing mesmerizes me, I am drawn in---all those stories of Jews coming over in the teens (19). My father arrived here from Poland when he was 12---1920. By the time I was born, he was totally integrated into a middle class lifestyle, if he had not told me he was born in Warsaw, I would never have guessed it. But these Jews, Roth's Jews are bumblers--they came from small Jewish villages in Europe, you can feel their horror, their  confusion, their desperate attempts to integrate themselves into their new surroundings in Manhattan, torn away from a different, far more simple 

lifestyle. And now I ask myself, how much of that horror was carried over intoi the vision of my parents, two "normal" people who most of the time seem relaxed in their surroundings. Had many friends; went to the theater often--aware of the outside world...yet underneath....

Roth is intense--can't read it all the time. The opposite: short stories or sports books that are superficial. Torn between the two. During this time of the pandemic and illness, reading has become more vivid to me then ever---easy lose myself in it. 

Quite a "mouthful" will leave it at there now. Will see what happens...

and more...

 just went to facebook where someone posted pictures and addresses of older Bronx delicatessens (delis). Wanted to write a response, but don't know how much "profundity" the post can handle. So many delicatessens in areas that are now poverty stricken---growing up they were middle class white areas, mostly Jewish. Lots of nostalgia on the posts, statement about what a "great time" that was. But don't those Bronx old timers understand. WE HAD TO LEAVE. There was no way my generation was going to come back to those neighborhoods after college and preserve them. That is what they won't say. It was out "destiny" to go out into the world and do more then our parents. It had to end. And now I think, i wonder, what was it like in the last days for those delis. How did they close? Did they just retire, or did they simply see the onslaught of black and puerto rican people coming in and decide that they had to end it. No one wants to go there. No one wants to look at.....Some day someone will tell the stories of the last days. Of people who probably were not even born in the country (some) of people who worked their whole lives, who believed in the vision of the neighborhood that supported them. Still, the last days....

the city explodes with culture...

but can I participate in any of it? That is the question. At Theater for the New City, a man is doing a one man take on West Side Story Would love to watch it. But can I? Lots of movie choices, don't even ask me about theater---it is loaded in the city---many off off projects in addition to the explosion of activities on and off Broadway. Yet I remain simply a "watcher". What keeps me at home? The bag? Sometimes being tired for much of the day? What am I capable of? In the "old" (pre pandemic) days I knew how I would spend Sunday, usually. At some point in the morning, take the M to the Knickerbocker stop in Bushwick, walk towards Jefferson and Knickerbocker---look at all the activitiy--the many stores, people on the street, then hit Cobra Club and remain there for a few hours; probably watch some football, read the second part of the Times, some conversation, some crazies there at time---it did not matter, I was happy and I knew what I was doing. Then possibly off a few blocks to Hart Street and Molasses bookstore---a really nice husband and wife with a new born (who is probably about 3 now) and chat with them for a while. They are opened now, now that the pandemic is over, but it is a hard journey for me now. So that is how it was. The past, a fevered dream of a journey through Bushwick and possibly a walk into Bedford Stuyvesant. Did not even know that they were next to each other until I began to travel there. But that was then---now, my life sits around the apartment. 

Still a productive week. Some good conversation with the couple who live on the next floor above me. Then on Thursday, with little preparation, was able to sub a few hours at Friends. Amazing just to be there. Third grade class, had to be on my toes watching them the whole time, but had no trouble doing it. Felt great when leaving. Then found out I could not work there Friday, because I was not "vetted" or something. Amazing! This should be sorted out by the end of the week. When I was asked to cover the thrid grade class, I was hesitant, wondered if I had the stamina, about four hours with only one break, but I did it and did it very efficiently. A good way remind myself that I could really do the work. Yesterday two turoring sessions that went well. Also good work. I am proud of this, but what is next...?

Sunday morning, early as I write this. Where will I be today? What are the factors involved in my choices. Energy, the "bag" behavior, the money I want to spend, anything else...? Not sure, anything can happen, but,,,,?

The Voyage (by subway) Out

 So there I was, 3P.M., ready to go to Bushwick, not without some trepidation, thought maybe my stamina was too low, or whatever, but forced myself into going. Subway: 72nd street to 14th, then the long tunnel that connects 7th to 6th avenue, and then my "old friend" the L train to Halsey street, deep in the heart of Bushwick. The train moved very quickly through 14th street, then Williamsburg, then into Bushwick--I arrived just as the party for the Bushwick Starr's  new space was beginning. Nice greeting from Noel, one of the artistic directors who created the space, and Flako, an important member of the arts community connected with the theater. The theater is now just a shell, lots of construction work needs to be done, but hopefully they can turn the building into a great theater and community (that is very important to the theater) space as well.

I stayed for about an hour and a half, had a nice chat with an actress friend of mine, heard a good salsa band, and simply watched the scene. But what was missing? Somehow I had fantasized that many of my Indie theater friends, a very solid community would be there, but actually none showed up. Three years ago, at a party to celebrate the Starr's ten years at the old space, many friends whom I had made over the past ten years of experiencing Indie theater were there--lots of good conversation, warm energy--I had expected something similar yesterday, but it did not happen. So many "missing" people. So perhaps a gap has been created---it is after the pandemic and that group has gotten older--but I think in the end it will be a "whole new world". Bonds made pre pandemic will still exist, but there has been a breach---one will not be able to "go home again". So it was over. Rejoined the L train for my trip back to the apartment--read a good short story by John Updike on the trip home (he is great for trips like this) and got back to the west side, sooner then I expected.

In the apartment I felt relaxed and pleased that I had stuck to my vision of the day and made the trip. Some part of me longs for travel in the city, but at the same time, I am more relaxed in the apartment. Today, not sure if I will take a trip---may want to remain close to home and just relax---read and follow the four playoff games that are happening today. And yet I know I must see the Balanchine movie at the Film Forum--can I make the trip before it leaves on Thursday---we shall see...

So, the next day...

 Lots of tasks in the morning, then went over to the blood center and got them to work through the problem. They were able to schedule an appointment for the scan that day, on13th street and 7th of all places. This is the small medical set up that replaced Saint Vincent's hospital across the street, sold to developers for luxury apartments. All went well; it was nice to be somewhere not on the upper west side or by Lenox Hill. On Wednesday I received the results: eveything is "stable" and treatment with chemo pills should continue for another three months. And what then...? No one is saying---welcome to the world of "limbo", cityboy.On one hand it gives me some time to focus on the present---that is tutoring and maybe doing some subbing---don't have to worry about an operation. On the other...what is the endgame here..? I see the blood oncologist on Friday, will ask...not much else I can do.

Tutoring going well---Friday  a very upbeat day---first took the subway to my bank near Union Square. Then decided not to return to the upper west side, which is what I usually do after visiting that bank, but took the M train to 53rd and 5th and checked out the 53rd street library---the one that replace the amazing Donnell Library---and browsed and found some books. Nice and refreshing to be somewhere else. After check out I walked to 59th and Broadway to the nearest subway back to the apartment. Wow! Did not realize how long that walk would be---still, I had no trouble doing it. Something about that trip---maybe just because it was different---enlivened me, as if something happy and fertile had exploded inside o me. Was it just because I had chosen a new path, to be in a different place..? Maybe, but it carried me through the whole day.

This afternoon I am going to Bushwick---a long trip for me---to a block party hosted by the Bushwick Starr theater company at their new space---or at least outside their new space. Should happen unless the light rain around now becomes serious. I am expecting to see a lot of my theater community friends whom I have not seen since the beginning of the pandemic. Should be fun---and meaningful. Do I tell them about my "condition"? Will have to play that by ear---anyway, the action should be fast and furious---the kind of party that I enjoy.

not the greatest day.....

scheduled ct scan did not come off. I knew this would happen. When I got to the hospital, the woman in charge showed me the order for the ct scan. It was from June, from another doctor who is treating me, but not from the one who wanted this ct. Could not do anything---they were waiting for me---all set up---then out into the air with nothing. Tomorrow morning I will go to the Center where my blood oncologist is, and arrange for another appointment for the scan. Not really a problem re my treatment, I suppose it can wait a few days, but I really wanted to go to the next step. All morning I psychologically prepared for this trip. Now, got to wait to tomorrow morning, and go there---an extra trip, but must do it.

Not much to report for the rest of the day. Decided not to try to see some movies at the film festival. Am reading an autobiography called Spotless. It is by Sherman Yellen, a successful screen writer who also wrote some books for some Broadway musicals. Another Jewish kid raised in the thirties by parents who came from the horrors of the lower east side poor Jewish community.Like Sherwin Nuland's autobiography, actually very similar, this is an attempt by the writer to come to terms with the srrange, harsh vision of their parents life, and how both the love and the inconsistencies in that love shaped the child. Nuland's father was unsophistocated, only really spoke yiddish and was a poor breadwinner. Yellen's father was a successful and agressive business man. Yet both were given to explosive rages without warning  which would disappear suddenly as life continued. Yes, I am fascinated by these stories, as the protagonist tries to explain life with these people, and also the recreation of the thirties and forties in their lives. Haunted, perhaps, but my parents were for the most part, far more stable and attentive and giving---yet there were moments when those qualities seemed to disapppear. So I am "lost in the fun house" as I try to figure it out.

Two tutoring sessions yesterday---very fulfilling---at this point don't see why I can't add some more students. Of course, there is my medical future to consider, but until I get my scan....