lots of contrasts

on this incredibly beautiful day--outside it is really great. Had a tough night last night---slept a lot, some stomach pain---stomach dead to food from about 2 P.M. to about 3 in the morning. Woke up feeling kind of weak, but after some coffee and a bagel, feeling pretty strong. A session at 3 keeps me "trapped" on the upper west side in the morning---walking around the neighborhood at around 7:30, I wished I could just get on a train and go to Brooklyn---but of course, I could not. Don't want to tire myself out before the session, since there is supposed to be an open house at Jack---a theater in Brooklyn that I like to go to---a lot of my friends perform there Will be nice to touch base with some members of my 'community" if they are there at the same time. After that---not sure, a few movies in the area are possible---I expect to just let things happen.
  This morning, with some time on my hands, I started a short story by F Scott Fitzgerald---only read half of it, but the writing itself was really beautiful. It revived a feeling of excitement for me this morning. Yesterday in the afternoon I did go to the rally outside the city Landmark Commission, to fight for the non-removal of 227 Duffield. Glad that I went--held up a sign and talked to other protesters---when the protest ended, I was tired, but also simply did not want to return home to the apartment---I just was not read---so I walked west on Chambers Street, then followed it north to where Hudson Street swerves out of West Broadway and then walked north on both Hudson and Greenwich street until I reached the film forum on Houston. Looking at the "new" Tribeca (well hardly new, Tribeca has been an enclave for the wealthy for about at least 20 years now---possibly longer) I remember the first time I came down there. It was 1983, spring, and of course the area was mostly deserted with little warehouses and some lofts. I went down there because I was producing a play (In Tiber Melting, by Carole Braverman)  and I had found a woman who would design my flyer and program. She lived in Tribeca in a loft with her boy friend. A weird feeling approaching her loft, sort of like being in a strange, barren world. So now, about 27 years later, all I see are the gleaming high rises and mid rises, mostly doormen building---could anyone have imagined the change that would take place. And where I am in all this. Does this change benefit me (more people on the street---far less crime) or am I simply the observer who watches it? I certainly can't afford the many restaurants that I passed, but does that really matter? Oh well, it is my city.
 That is all for now, should have some new reports soon.

Friday morning...

no work---my one good stock has "tanked" (for now) and---well that is all the "bad news". The good, started one scene from a possible short play in my head---actually wrote about 15 lines of dialogue. Pretty good for me. That is what comes out of the restlessness I feel.
 Yesterday---after a session--went to Brooklyn, to my two (now) favorite places--the Gotham Center, opposite the Harvey Theater at BAM, and the fiction bookstore about a block away. Have nothing to do---I probably go there. Again, had a chance to see a movie or play, but turned it down---left early around 8:30 to return home
  Today, there is a rally and community speak out outside the landmark commission in downtown Manhattan to protest the Landmark Commission's refusal to landmark a small building that served as a runaway slave free house, and is now scheduled to be demolished so that the current landlord can build eleven luxury apartments. On a block that is already lined with luxury hotels and apartments. Tomorrow I will not be able to attend the rally and march, but I will be there today. After that....
can't say---will depend on how much energy I have left.
  Two good articles in the Times today on the continuing devastation caused by the development community. But the word is getting out---one of the Mayoral aspirants promises not to take any campaign money from real estate interests. He understands the possible push back if he does.
 That is all for now---will report soon.

Once again...

unable to "pull the trigger" on a play to see tonight or tomorrow night on my discount web site. And that includes Oklahoma, which I feel it is very important to see. What is the problem, cityboy? Is it what we might call "theater malaise" or simply trying to keep to an almost impossible budget system. Well, you are still here for a while; we can always return to the web site---keep me posted.
  An interesting memory. A Saturday in April, 1955. My father and I have just seen a matinee of The Desperate Hours---a play about three escaped prison convicts who take over the home of a "normal" family by force and hide out there. Very intense melodrama, very exciting. Playing the leader of the convicts is a young actor named Paul Newman, his younger brother, the more sensitive one, is played by another actor I have never seen before named George Grizzard, and Karl Malden plays the head of the family who is captured. Great performances, a great climax---very vivid production. Usually my father and I return to the Bronx right after a performance, but this is a very hot April afternoon, and my father suggests we visit his best friend Harvey, who lives on 93rd street. Harvey and his wife Zerlina, are the only friends my parents have who live in Manhattan. So we take the bus that goes north on Central Park to 93rd street This is all new to me. Harvey's apartment house is between Columbus and Amsterdam Avenue, a block and a half from the park. We get off the bus and walk west on 93rd. The block between Central Park West and Columbus is filled with Puerto Rican people. They are mostly outside the small apartment houses that line the block. Coming from an all Jewish and white neighborhood in the Bronx, seeing all these people of color, living in poverty is strange, a little frightening---I am amazed that there are blocks like this. We cross Columbus and approach Harvey's house---he is not there and we continue west.
   I bring this up because yesterday evening, I wanted to take a crosstown bus to the east side, but the UN schedule meant that buses were re-routed; I got off  the bus at the earliest possible stop, and found myself on Central Park West and 88th street. Getting to the east side ( and a coffee shop that I wanted to stop at on 2nd Avenue) is impossible. I decide to walk north, thinking that maybe I will turn right at 94th street and re-take that journey from 1955. Lots of people on the Central Park west side, some dog walkers, then I turn right on 94th, and proceed west. Of course the street has since been gentrified, a calm presence exists on all of it. Very few, if any traces of the poverty that I saw 64 years ago. The Central Park West apartment house on that block, actually has its entrance on 94th street. I wonder how the people who lived there at the time (mostly middle class professionals who worked in Manhattan)  considered the rest of their street which they could see as they went into the apartment house.
  Is it an amazing thing, to be able to try to consider the changes in a block over a 64 year period?  As I walked west, I could see the block in 55, the large number of Hispanic people outside their apartment houses socializing. Could anyone then have thought that the block and the city would have evolved into what it is today? Later I walked west on 95th between Columbus and Amsterdam, past the many brownstones that are on that block, I got a nice feeling of warmth and energy generating from the street. A nice sense of community. I ended up at the Dive Bar, to watch some baseball (irrelevant in terms of the now decided pennant races) and had a beer. A nice place,I was treated with friendship from the serving staff---I got what I needed and returned home.
  Tonight, again--undefined---will report later.

Wednesday morning...

in the library, a totally open day. Yesterday had a short (but very happy) day at Friends. Nothing planned there until next Wednesday--will I work sooner---I think that it is early in the year, so no one is getting sick--maybe some meetings or outings---we will see. Meanwhile this beautiful day is clear. And guess what? I have innumerable choices on my TDF (theater discount cite); Oklahoma, (which I have always wanted to see); Slave Play (another play that really interests me) and two off off projects which I could see today if I wanted to at very reduced prices. So I do nothing. Why? Maybe I just want this day to be open---I have a lot of reading to do---maybe after this I will go to Brooklyn with the book that I am reading to help one of the students I tutor and hit a few libraries there. Then see what happens. Somehow, the idea of wandering around Brooklyn in the afternoon or evening---choosing various neighborhoods to be in, is very exciting to me. So we will see what happens.
  Last two nights I remained in the apartment, in both I was tired from the days events. So no "outside visits" to report. Tonight I should be all out. Will report soon.

Monday morning......

a long wait since my last post---three days of work at Friends, and the "long march" on Saturday. Wednesday was kind of weird. I happened to be around west 14th street and was about to get into the subway at 8th avenue when I got a text: could I be at Friends in 35 minutes. Luckily, I was not on the upper west side-so it was very possible. A hectic ride on the L across town; I made it in plenty of time, but still---a quick change. One coverage-then preparation for the next two days. 

  Thursday, two classes at Friends, a session after that and then a memorial for Heather, a young woman who passed away a few weeks ago. Heather was a regular at South fourth, which is how I know her---for a long time she dated one of the bartenders there. In the years that I was there she was always friendly, said hello--we usually then went our separate ways. I am not sure what the rest of her life was like---in a way, she was kind of an enigma to me---I spent a little bit of time with her at the final party for the bar. She was only in her late thirties---very very sad. About 20 people there, all south fourth verterans; it was nice to see them all again. Afterwards, rather then go back on the L, took the 62 bus into Long Island City (still more luxury building) and stopped at the Greek Diner near the 7 train for a much needed cheese danish and coffee. (What this has to do with Heather's memorial I am not sure) Then returned home.

  Friday-a hectic day at Friends with many encounters with middle schoolers (we will leave it at that)

  Saturday the much planned for and awaited anti-gentrfication march through Brooklyn. Very meaningful---glad that I went. First stop was outside Housing Court where on speaker told us that much help is needed---many tenants at a disadvantage while the landlords try to use illegal means to evict them. The march continued into Fort Greene---on Myrtle Avenue, across the street from the NYCHA projects I was stunned to see three luxury doorman buildings--I guess they will just never end. A speaker got up and told us about the city's plan to "reform" the north side of the park---the park facing the projects. She made it clear this was a racist move---motivated by the man who financed the luxury projects being a major contributor to the Mayor. She was very forceful--a group of citizens is fighting the city in court to prevent this. Sitting on the steps facing the speaker---all by myself---I felt a tremendous sadness about what is going on.The intense building in Brooklyn to me represents a juggernaut of power, that the real estate industry just uses at will. These luxury buildings are being built far south of Fort Greene; many are being built in the Flatbush area, an area where millenials are moving in and mostly people of color are being harassed. It is not the milennial fault, they are caught in the crossfire of the gentrification problem===they can not afford Park Slope or the luxury buildings of downtown Brooklyn so they have to find space in Flatbush or Bushwick. And of course, the landlords want them.. All these ideas flattened me--as we continued the march---east on Myrtle until Broadway.  A few blocks before I felt really tired, so I left the march, jumped on the bus coming up Marcus Garvey Boulevard and took it to Fulton Street where I waited in the park for the march to meet me. When it arrived, it had picked up a good number of protesters from Bushwick---they were very spirited. The march had one more segment to go---about 6 blocks east to Broadway Junction, but I decided to leave it then--I explained to one of my friends that I was really tired---they understood and I left before the group had taken off.

  Returned to Gotham market--my central point now in Brooklyn- and had some food. Returned home tired. 
 Yesterday, a quiet day, nothing unusual--ended up at La Flaca.

  No BAN meeting today---one session, evening not worked out will report soon.

Tuesday morning....

a beautiful day outside---have two scheduled sessions today, and after that, I hope to be able to head to the Gotham Market and possibly play trivia with the group that I met two weeks ago. Last week, after the second session, I was too tired to make it to Brooklyn (or anywhere) but today I hope to do it.
 Yesterday a lot of rest, after Sunday's marathon flyering. Body was very tired---still I made my way to the BAN meeting---the final one before the march on Saturday. Is everything in place? I hope so---I probably will not be participating in any of the pre-march activities, but I will be there Sunday morning at 11 or thereabouts.
  The only other interesting thing in my life is my new found fascination with plays by contemporaries of Shakespeare. Am in the middle of Tamburlaine, by Marlowe. Some amazing imagery in the work---also a death scene for the wife of Tamburlaine that is very eloquently written---wife is gentle, the husband (Tamburlaine) very caring. The scene seems to me almost the exact opposite of the vicious  final scene between Othello and Desdemona, written, I guess at least 15 years later.  Did Shakespeare know of this scene. He probably would have seen all of Marlowe's plays. Whatever, I find the juxtaposition of the two scenes fascinating. I will read Tamburlaine to the finish, then possibly look at some other Elizabethan or Jacobean plays. Lots of echoes of Shakespeare in Tamburlaine and The Revenger's Tragedy, which I have also just read.
 Well that is all for now--will report soon.

another interesting weekend....

perhaps not as exciting as last weekend, but still strong, nevertheless.
 Saturday evening: went out to see the theater project of my friends, Abby and Michael. It was playing at the Invisible Dog, a venue very close to the F train Bergen Street stop. So the plan was to give myself a lot of time, in case trains were moving slowly. That is exactly what did happen---I found myself at the West 4th street station and the time clock said the next F would come in 15 minutes. Wow! That is a lot of time to spend at one station--but the D was coming in one minute. The D would let me off about 5 long blocks east of the F. But I took it anyway, (I am impatient at times) and after getting of the train, prepared for my long trip west on the five blocks that cross Bergen Street.
Quite and adventure---the streets, very long, are filled with brownstones, but the foot traffic was minimal Who lives in these brownstones, (now worth about 2.5 million) I asked myself. Why are so few people on the street around 8:30 P.M. Occasionally saw a couple walking slowly or a someone walking his or her dog, but the effect was kind of eerie. Anyway, I arrived at Smith Street (where the venue is) pretty early, but happy that I had done some exploration.
 The project involved a group of young people (high school and college) all from other countries, in which they introduced themselves then constructed and took down some large platforms. Lots of team work---I understand what my friends were trying to do--but I felt distanced from most of the project. Still, the audience seemed to love it---the applause when the play ended was incredibly strong.I congratulated my friends and left, returned home and went to bed.
  Sunday, the day of flyering for the march this coming Saturday. First I visited Cobra club, watched some football, then said hi to my friend Matt at his bookstore Molassses. Josh, my flyering partner, met me at Myrtle Avenue and Broadway, and we embarked on our journey through Brooklyn to alert people of the march.
  A fascinating trip, all walked---beginning at the Myrtle-Broadway subway, going west on Myrtle, had an interesting conversation with a person of color-- man in his sixties---he had just left the church across the street from a NYCHA project---and told Josh and myself that he could no longer afford an apartment or a house in the borough---even though he had been born and raised in the projects across the street. His frustration was palpable. The journey continued south at Nostrand, then west again on Lafayette, then north again to Myrtle---and we moved west on that street really almost up to Flatbush. At one point, around Hall Street, an elderly black woman told us that the some of the white newcomers to the area looked at her as if she did not belong--she was agitated about this. She assured us she would support our march. Finally landed at the Gotham Market, had some ice cream and later coffee to fill me up after the long trip. Then went to the fiction center nearby and compared notes with Simon, the former student at Friends who is a barista there, and also beginning his graduate studies in Social work. Would have liked to have stayed there and read, but now exhaustion was really setting in, so I got on the subway and returned home.
  Today a "lazy" day (maybe I need one)--only event scheduled is the final BAN meeting before the march. Rest of time, I will read---getting really into plays written by contemporaries of Shakespeare and articles about them---will report soon.