a long time posting....

Why so long? Baseball gets in the way---no, I am serious---with so many games and so many statistics about players that I long to find out---it takes up a lot of time. Will try to post a little more frequently. At this point, health wise, things look positive. No hospital or doctor visits until April 26---that is about 13 days. That will be the longest amount of time that I will not have been medically supervised in quite a while. Beautiful day outside--tried to take advantage of it with a walk to the Barnes and Noble bookstore, and then spent about a half hour there, just browsing. Saw the new Philip Roth bio, also Tovah Fedschuh has a bio that looks interesting. Both have long waiting lists at the library, and, at this point, are too expensive for me to think about buying. Did reserve Susan Miller's latest novel called Monogamy---love and betrayal among the Cambridge Mass types, at least that is what I think it is. Also, Rodham, by Curtis Sittenfeld, apparently an alternative life of "you know who". Still moving through The Turner House, the. novel about three generations of a black family in Detroit, Constantly interesting---though the writer diffuses sometimes, because she has to cover a lot of ground. (thirteen children in the first generation)

While walking east from Riverside Park to Broadway via 82nd street, remembered a feeling of peace and serenity that I experienced on another west side walk. It was Spring of 1966---a Saturday evening, and I was feeling very contented. I had put my sad romance with my "Goucher friend" behind me---life was fun at the Department of Welfare office in the Bronx where I worked, and I guess I felt my acting classes with Milton Katselas was building my resolve to leave the department and audition on my own. At the moment, though, all was calm. I was living in a rooming house on West 94 street, so the walk must have been in the low nineties or high eighties around West End and Riverside. No romantic involvement or yearning that I can remember. Just an easy "high".  Soon afterwards I left the Department of Welfare and its quirky young community to devote myself fully to getting acting jobs. It did not work---I found myself with much too much time on my hands. Should I have stayed at the Department a little longer. Leaving it was the beginning of my "plunge into chaos", as I tried to hold things together without working. Ultimately it all resolved itself, but not before a lot of testing and strange adventures. More about that some other time (possibly) lets just say I survived the twists and turns of the next few years. 

Thats all for now--time to get back to baseball---I guess, will report soon,

another Sunday....

 Radiation finished---st ill greatful for the terrific staff at the radiation center---made coming there every weekday morning really safe and meaningful. Now mornings are free--less structure---celebrated my first free morning day by not washing up! Not great huh? But the day was so ugly---so little chance to leave the apartment, it did not really matter. With radiation over, I find that my body goes through changes---sometimes very energetic; some times lethargic. As a result i have very few plans for the day---I try to get out when I can----this afternoon is supposed to be mild---so hopefully I can move around some then.

I see the blood oncologist tomorrow, then, maybe one other trip to them this month. In three weeks I have a ct scan and visits to two doctors. Will find out then what the future holds. For now, I am left in limbo---not a bad place to be after the five weeks at the radiation center. How will I spend my time? Not sure---once again will have to test my body each day. Will I ever reach full---that is pre pandemic strength---again? And what about Friends? Will they have a public graduation and senior dinner that I can attend? Hope so, but the days are getting closer.

Can keep very busy in the apartment following baseball. Do not have the package, but still can follow any game pitch by pitch on the baseball web site. Of course, can't see it---just get the report, but that seems to be enough for me right now. It is still very hard for me to read in the apartment. Waiting to get into The Turner House; I have read most of the first three chapters---really enjoying it---but restlessness gets the better of me when I am not at the computer. Also, I have Hemingway's A Movable Feast---read the first chapter and really enjoyed it---but same problem. As I sit here I think of the Fiction Center in Brooklyn, across the street from BAM. How I loved going there--just sitting at a table, sipping coffee and reading. That is how it should be. Do I have the stamina to make a visit there now, from my apartment on the upper west side? Don't know. And have they re-opened there coffee venue? Do not know that either. Just remember how much I liked being there in the summer and fall of 19, and the very powerful novel called The Not Wives, by Moore that I read completely at the Center. There is no place like it in Manhattan, and definitely not on the upper west side. Must be content with "browsing through the neighborhood Barnes and Noble--not the greatest--but...? 

That should be all for now. Maybe with more time on my hands, can increase volume---we shall see.

continuing on Sunday...a week

 the month moves on.....four more days of radiation left---April 1---my final day---is also the opening of the baseball season. My brother Dave, would have realy been on top of that. Will think of him a lot that day---sad that he will miss this year---he really loved baseball and the Pirates. On Sundays, when I would call him every two or three weeks, baseball would be one of our main topics (usually the other being his daughter and my niece, Natalie),  and that was a bond that kept our conversations going. 

I should give David a lot of credit, probably more then I realized before. His illness kept getting worse, yet he never dwelled on it in our conversations, or, from what I understand from his memorial pages, in his converations with others.  He was always cheerful and opened. Sometimes probing--in our next to the last conversation,  a few weeks before he died, I brought up the fact that our father---usually very open and informative when we spoke to him, never---definitely never---spoke about the first twelve years of his life, spent in Poland. He could remember moments from his early days after his arrival in the city---his first days in a city public school, perhaps, yet all memories from his European life were wiped out. Strange, because for the most part (though not always) he kept his personality on an even keel. Still, even though he had reached a solid state of financial and professional recognition, he refused to talk about those times at all.  Were they that horrible? He was the youngest (or second youngest) of a large group of siblings, and his father. who did not make the trip over to America, was considered harsh and erratic. A relative once told me that it was the older children who had to deal far more with the man's  craziness. Still, there must have been moments of happiness, of excitement, whatever. Never heard of them. When I brought this up to Davd, he agreed, and mentioned that he had once questioned our father about this time, but also got very little information. It was an intersting and meaningful conversation---it veered away from our normal topics---and during that time a felt a much closer bond with him. Of course, I had no idea that his life would be so shortened after that--possibly we could have taken this further.

so the day continues. This evening I have been invited to a virtual seder, given by my cousins who live in Prospect Heights---I think I mentioned the same thing in a blog that I wrote a year ago---time flies---and I probably will attend-- also, possibly a tutoring session with my one student (adult) but, as 2:30 approaches, he has not contacted me yet. Still, having trouble finding an interest in reading--I finally got Hemingway's A Movabe Feast out of the library, but have only read the first (and very interesting) chapter. For whatever reason, I do not want to absorb his next "bohemian" experiences. So it's internet, radio, reflectons, etc. Maybe some phone cals to catch up. It is ugly outside, so a walk, uness it is short, is not in the offing. 

After the first--who knows? Structure provided by constant radiation trips will be over--where do we go from there...?

A Dark Thursday evening....

 Decisions, decisions---must lay off nba betting for a while, after losing about four games in a row.  Some ideas about winners today, but I think I shall pass. Remember, the season goes long, and there are games all the way through the summer. I DO NOT want to add any money to my bet cash. So far, I have not had to---pretty good since I started in late October, but I am down a bit--so maybe it is better to take some time off. Still, don't you think the Knicks can beat Orlando by -5.5. Lots of beating myself over the head if the Knicks beat the spread. Well, there will be other chances. 

Weekend kind of open. The Met is broadcasting a Rossini opera called Le Comte Ory, one of his lesser known works. I imagine it will be quite static with many showy arias for the singers---don't know if I can make it through. Maybe Saturday I can get out. Read about an interesting coffee spot where Bushwick just begins. Can i make the trip there this weekend? Right now the radiation gives me "tired fits" where I very quickly need to sleep. Is it possible that those will be lessened over the weekend, and can I get my ostomy bag to "behave" on a longish trip? Can't say, it is probably more of an idea then a reality, but keep it in mind. Anyway, after April 1st, when the radiation ends, I assume I will have less structure in my day, so a trip to Bushwick, or any other part of Brooklyn, migbu ht be easier to manage, as my energy seems to be stronger in the morning.

Not sure what will happen after radiation is over. Apparently, my surgeon does not want to see me until about four weeks after that---will still see my blood oncologist, which is good---I think it is important to have my blood checked every week at this point. But what else? Maybe a possible movie, actually in a movie house. The libaries are not re-opened (that is really sad) so probably mininal work with students, but in reality---what will I do? Well, weather should be nicer then, so maybe more time outside---easier to read on a park bench then in the apartment. 

That should be all for now--memories---yes! but maybe next time.

so here we are....

 Friday afternoon---radiation finished for the week---all dressed up and definitely no where to go. A calm "deadness" has overtaken me---that is what happens when the only real "task" one has is paying some medical bills. And you know how hard I will try to avoid that. Yes, the city is opening up---no doubt about that---but still, no free spaces where one can just sit and uainread. Still, have to get through the afternoon until I can "entertain" myself by following some basketball bets tonight. Right now, I would give anything to be at a track---like Aqueduct---it would be worth it to risk some money---even though the money is tight--just for a little energy in a different place.

Actually I am pretty stimulated by what I am reading. First, . The Two Noble Kinsmen, the play partially written by Shakespeare  which has some interesting writing in it. There is definitely some writing in it that anyone who has a solid acqaintance with Shakespeare could be pretty sure he did not write. But some other scenes or dialogue look possible. It is a long unweildy play---at least in the version that I am reading---but it does hold  . I am about two thirds of the way through it---will probably try to finish it during the weekend.

Next is The Watchers, a non fiction book about Queen Elizabeth's (Shakespeare's Queen Elizabeth) spies and courtiers, who helped her control a nation always threatened by rebellion. The rebels  would be those citizens who followed the Catholic religion--when Elizabeth ascended the throne, she made Protestantism, following in the vision of her father Henry VIII, who invented the church of England, the definite religion of the country. But most of Europe was Catholic--the previous ruler, Mary, had brought Catholicism back from its exile, but under Elizabeth, any citizen of England who was found to be practicing Catholicism could be tried for treason or exectuted. Much hiding and deception, which Elizabeth countered with a strong network of spies. But I am just beginning the book---just getting into it--so I am not familiar with many events. I would like to link the religious conflict to some of Shakespeare's writing and vision---at least half of his plays were written during the tale end of Elizabeth's reign---but I have not found any facts on it now---but the book is just starting,  As I get further into it, maybe I can link the events to his writing.

Finaly The Turner House, by Angela Flornoy, the novel about four genreations of a black family. I have just read the begiinnin---seems very interesting and challenging, but I think I should try to finish The Watchers first. I want to be able to concentrate completely on the novel, and its many characters when I read it.

Yet at this moment, I don't feel motivated to read any of it. Have to get out--too nice a day--not sure how much stamina I have. The treatments seem to have cut down on my stamina. Drinking too much coffee--will figure out what happens as it goes along. Will report soon.

another Sunday....

 this one, a difficult one. Outside it is very cold--no chance for a long walk. And yet I am restless--the thought of being "trapped" in my apartment is not fun. Would it be different, if I was not fighting the disease, or did not have the ostomy bag? Not sure---rest of the world is mostly still in isolation. 

One bright spot. Just listened to the first scene of I Due Foscari, an early opera by Verdi. Very stirring. Very stimulating---can I hear it all through today? Not sure--but it is one possibility for "growth". When I think back to a year ago today---I think I spent some time at the Fiction Center in Brooklyn--oh God, I really loved that place---then walked down the block and had hummus at the bar-restaurant that was (is) part of the Atrium across the street from the Harvey. The Lakers were playing--a primarily black clinetele was seated at the bar--shouts of "Bronnie!", which was I guess what the guys were callin Lebron. Not too comfortable there, but it does not matter---miss the whole experience. Still, on that Sunday early evening, amidst all the shouts and yells,  could anyone have thought that the city might shut down in a week? 

Tomorrow cotinue with radiation treatment, then see my oncologist and his staff---lots to do in the afternoon---library, maybe pay the phone bill; get my frightening tax work beginning. The staff at where I get my radiation is very warm and supportive---really nice---everyone totally competent and interested. What else...? Continue to be non stimulated by the books that are available to me at the apartment---have three coming from the library tomorrow, if I can get to it. One about Elizabeth's spies, one a novel called The Turner House, which I have wanted to read for a long time, and the third, the Elizabethan play called "The Two Noble Kinsmen", part of which is attributed to Shakespeare, but not included in the usual anthologies of his work. Will this enlighten me? I try (but not always succeed) to read several plays by contemporaries of Shakespeare, looking for clues that will show a similar mind or vision as his. So much mystery---so much depth--amazing that one mind could have conceived of his whole genre. Or was it? Inconsistencies in his plays...As You Like It, really two plays in one--the abrupt change in Macbeth--ending Hamlet with Fortinbras...so many questions; as I heard the playwright Atholl Fugard say, when he spoke of Hamlet at the Playwrights Conference,,,"you can't really get at it---enter it".

time to stop now...will consider doing my writing as the day goes on...will report soon.

Forever Haunted....

 So it happened again! I get the morning copy of the Baltimore Sun on e-mail. I read about something happening on  street called Reisterstown Road. And then the memories come. Why Reisterstown Road? When I arrived at Hopkins in 1960, I made friends with several other freshmen, all of whom actually lived in Baltimore. These friendships led to visits and often double dates,  usually --with young women who were friends of the women these guys were dating.  Reisterstown Road at that time cut right through the Jewish community--on just about every idate, we would go through it to pick up the girls. The streets tat surrounded Reisterstwon roadworld existed in tremendous contrast to the Bronx of apartment houses where I was brought up.Here erveryone lived in  private house--the houses on the streets were low lying-gentle, though it never happened, I longed for a girl friend from those streets. 

In the winter of my senior year, 1964, after much pleading with my parents, they finally bought me a car, and  I was able to take it down to Baltimore. That city, at that time was incredibly car driven---the buses stopped running around six so without a car, one could simply go nowhere.  I was restless that spring---restless and hungry--I ws living through my final  term at Hopkins and often to get some steam off, to forget that i was incapable of studying,  I would get in the  car and ride around Baltimore--I had a freind named David, he was a freshman, he would often join me on what we referred to as "midnight rides". Did we go to Reisterstown Road a lot? Not sure, but once on that road, or on the streets adjacent to it, I could almost sense the possible closeness--the adventure of  first or second date---that was possible.

Fifty seven years later, that neighborhood is considered one of the most dangerous in Baltimore---it changed, as far as I know, in the late sixties--a mirror of what happened in the Bronx or parts of Brooklyn, as Jewish families left for a variety of reasons---their children needed more space for their achievements, and the parents were aging.  Those of us who reached our twenties by the middle sixties could go anywhere---the idea of returning to the neighborhoods that had been our homes as children seemed stifling. Those young women of Reisterstown Road and its evirons--those whose lives I may have dreamed of being a part of---are now in their seventies---do they even remember the days and nights of double dating, of making out in cars before going home of.....It does not matter---as soon as I see the story in the paper, I remain hopelessly behind in that world.