A Thanksgiving to "Remember"

 A really strange day. No visit to my relatives on Park Place in Brooklyn, since they decided to do Thanksgiving on the 15th. I was there---it was fun. No problem with no plans, since I had many sessions with the the three days previous, and wanted a "blank" day. So one movie choice--what would it be...?  Nahan-ism, at the Quad-a documentary about a 90 year old man who joined the victorious American army in 45, only to be stationed in Nurenberg and assigned to guard Nazi war criminals awaiting trial. Of course, Nathan was Jewish too, so you had a Jew guarding and interacting with the very men who were the architects of the Holocaust. But Nathan was also a spontaneous artist, and as he guarded, he made etchings of the prisoners who he interacted with.  A harsh, brutal immersion into the brutality of the Holacaust with other issues as Nathan's followers in the present attempt to verify his claim to being there. I felt immersed in the horror but undrestood that was what I had chosen--left feeling that I had experienced something very intense.

Returned to the apartment---feeling very tired---aware that on this Thanksgiving with many others celebrating together that I was alone. Had my meal--the computer ready, but for some reason I refused to open it. Spent the next 10 or so hours resting--or sleeping--would wake up feeling "blank" Would not te-open the computer--could have easily done so and checked out the football scores or visited other sites--but did not. Why? Did I feel I was only being "fair" to the movie by not moving my imagination in another way. Thought of this incredible juxtaposition: Thanksgiving and the Holocaust--somewhat amazing.

Friday morning--it is over now--calm returns--as do the visits to the web sites that I usually visit. Today--possibly a free day--maybe on session---tonight the Met has an opera which I am very familiar with---Strauss' Die Frau Ohne Schotten---not sure if I want to live through it--but as I look at the schedule of performances this one seems the only one I can be sure of attending.  Oh well---"problems, problems" can be solved soon.

So it is three weeks later---

 I don't think that I wanted to wrtte anything since the election. But have just returned from Geffen Hall, where I sat in the lobby while Bronfman was playing Beethoven's 3rd piano concerto. Amazing! Just what I needed this evening---the brilliance of Beethoven. Nice go be able to sit in the lobby---in a chair by myself---and simply get the performance from the live feed that the Philharmonic now supplies. Great way to see a concert---one just hears the one piece one wants to and then can move on. In this case, after the intermission the Orchestra performed a symphony by Nielsen---and I had no desire to hear it--plus I was incredibly tired ---so time to go home.

Waiting for the bus on 66th and Broadway, noticed a woman traveling with a walker. On a closer look I realized this was a woman named Susan---a close friend of mine during my last year of high school. I walked over to her to say hello---but somehow she did not respond--on the bus, also, she looked straight ahead---I followed her on, but did not say hello---leave it alone. Yet there she was, this woman whom I once shared thoughts with about  friend of her who I dated for awhile. Memories of those conversations with her so specific--where are they now? 

Had two great sessions this morning with two very different children---the first--a shy third grader,s struggling with her math skills, the second a lively fifth grade boy with a good mind---we worked on fractions and decimals. Felt very vital with both of them.Lots of sessions ahead---even with the holiday weekend approaching.

Nobody seems to be talking about the coming administration--all conversation seems to be "normal"--that is life just seems to be moving on. A radio station lauds the fall weather---theater and concert schedules into the first three or four months of the new year seem to present a world oblivious of any changes that this new administration will cause.

Tomorrow mostly a free day. Still would love to catch up on some movies---well can do that on Thanksgiiving, since the Thanksgiving that I usually spend with my cousins has already passed. We had it last Friday because some relatives did not with to travel on or around the holiday. Makes sense--actually looking forward to a quiet day at home,

Restless night...Halloween over

 Around 4:30. Have slept enough---my body wide awake, or at least functioning somewhat normally. Me at the computer. I go to the maps of the Bronx---for some reason my brain (vision) wants to explore Echo Place. Echo Place is a small street that simply appears out of another street, near the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. My uncle Henry and Aunt Celia lived on Echo place---from time to time our family visited then---those were always "nice" visits--there is a park nearby, called Echo Park and I remember playing there with some other neighborhoo't td children, But at that time the area was all white and overwhelmingly Jewish. Now, of course, it is almost completely black and Hispanic, working class. What do I remember most when I see the picture of the street on the map? Safety--a calm neighorhood, totally non violent. Would I go there now? About three weeks ago on a Saturday afternoon, I "wandered" around a few streets about half a mile south of Echo Place. I was the only white person there, and yes, I got some "looks". So I don't think I will visit Echo Place soon---or maybe I will---or should.

Memory--a hunger for "what"? I see my childhood in those streets, the visits to my relatives, many of whom lived in that area. I see my three years at Bronx Science in those streets because so many of the students in the class of 60 lived either on, or in close proximity to the Grand Concourse. But how does one put the two worlds together? An integration that seems impossible. If I returned to Echo PLace now, say on a Saturday afternoon, with everyone out and about, I would still feel as if I did not belong---but I don't. Just as when I walk on Nostrand Avenue in Brooklyn, north, from Eastern Parkway to Fulton Street I understand that twenty or thirty years ago, I would have felt very uncomfortable on those street, now I am "pretty good" with it---no real apprehension.  So where does that leave me? 

Close to 5 A.M. in an hour, I can visit the coffee cart a block and a half away from where I live---make my first contact of the day. Their coffee can at times be "awful" but at $2.00. it offers something reasonable financially for this time. That's all.