woke up this morning...

no neuropathy---haunted by it yesterday---body giving me messages of "looseness",maybe fatigue,  for want of a better word. Still managed to go to 145 street---two sessions canceled, but gave the day some structure. Apartment being cleaned today---have to prepare---earlier, on the computer,on a Facebook page called Back In the Bronx,  someone posted a picture of their first grade class from 1951---all white. I checked the address of the school, near Tremont Avenue, the area that is so prevalent in Random Families---almost completely jewish at that time, but by the mid eighties, poor, hispanic, violent , drug ridden and chaotic. Now, probably calmer---but still mired in poverty. Went to google maps, looked at photos of the surrounding streets. I remember as a teen ager in the late fifties feeling so safe and secure as I walked in that area--also in other neighborhoods of the Bronx that are now poverty driven. How didi it happen---this 'seismic" change, at least in my own mind. 

Reading Henry VIII, one of Shakespeare's (presumed) last plays. Have seen two productions of it, neither one left much of an impression on me---found them sterile---a void---something I very rarely feel about any play by Shakespeare. Now reading it, I find very interesting moments. The early part of the play is centered around the trial and possible execution of the Duke of Buckingham, for treason. Actually he has run afoul of Cardinal Woolsey, who seems to have Henry's confidence and wants to eliminate all rivals. Buckingham has a long speech in which he forgives all---he emerges as a kind of Christlike figure--the play stops for his long final statement. Lots of imagery and sharp dialogue that calls to mind other Shakespeare plays--other characters who seem important are Katherbyeine of Aragon, Henry's Queeen at the time, and Anne Bullen, who of course will replace her. I am reading the play slowly---trying to concentrate---maybe forming public readings of it in my own mind---but of course, that is not what is happening to me now. 

Rest of the day---prepare for cleaning---maybe contact a parent of a possible student--lots of unstructured time---let's see what happens......

When you can't sleep....

 search the past. At 3:00 in the morning---body wants action---to move around, but do not want to go out, take a walk, and please it. I have been out this time before---a few times during the first days of the pandemic--when I was angry at what happened---but at this moment prefer to stay in. Not a good time to read, eyes are tired---somehow they can tolerate the computer better. Went to googlemaps, and visited Vyse Avenue around 174th, 173rd street in the Bronx. Must we go into this again---a neighborhood now basically a working class, poor neighborhood, filled with apartment houses, that once, when I was growing up, housed a mostly Jewish population. My father taught at James Monroe High School, and that would have been mostly children from that neighborhood would have gone. In late 61, early 62, I had a couple of dates with one of his students, or something. She was nice, but nothing happened. But as I traveled the neighborhood, I remember feeling relaxed and safe. Two or three years later, it began to "turn", the influx of black and Puerto Rican familes began, while many of tha Jewish families moved to the new apartment houses that replaced the lot and lawn that abutted my apartment house. I began this post when I found myself thinking about visiting Park Heights Avenue in Baltimore, now a very dangerous place, but during my four years at Hopkins, the epicenter of a thriving Jewish neighborhood. It too, was changed, around the late sixties. Yet in my memory it is safe, and meaningful as a place that I could be. Such a sense of sadness, when I googlemap those neighborhoods, but why? A "longing for the past?" Yet here I am. 

The visit to Vyse Avenue was prompted by the book I am reading: Random Family, by Adrian LeBlanc. The author follows two women, born into poverty in the Bronx, living in chaotic family situations, moving all over the poor sections of the borough. It it a book that I always return to---I think this is my third complete reading of it---it really draws the reader in---reading it got me through the weekend. In my earlier readings I was just following the action--this is the first time I reallly remember being repulsed and sickened by the world the people in the novel exist in. People coming in and out of the apartments at all hours, drug use in front of small children, lovers exchanging partners indiscriminately---what would  it have been like to have been a child in those circumstances, I wonder with horror?  

Visited the newly refurbished Mid Manhattan library this morning, on 40th and fifth. What an amazing place! Lots of room to wander on the floors, a great selection of books; chairs on each floor to sit and read whatever you want, and a snack bar on the top floor. I could stay there all day, reading if I wanted to. Must return soon, and also visit the newly refurbished library at Grand Army Plaza---I hear that has some great new aspects to it (hopefully that includes the rest rooms, which, pre pandemic, were pretty grungy). Pre pandemic it was nothing for me to go there and browse, second nature almost. Now, with the illness and its accoutrements, going there will be a very different experience, a test of sort. Still, must do it soon. 

Seem to have made my statement for today. Should post a little more then just weekly---will try sooner...

Time to Write...

A week away from this blog is a long time. Had some issues (annoying but solved) with my Medicare coverage, and have been writing a lot on a facebook page called Broadway Remembered. Many sixty, seventies and eighty somethings inhabit this topic with memories of theater from the fifties and sixties and the rest.  It is a good outlet for my theater memories---between 55 and 64, I was a really active theater goer---took everything down in my head, now can share it with others. 

Reading a lot of Shaw---in the middle of You Never Can Tell, and have gone through Arms and the Man twice. Really good plays with incredibly sharp dialogue and character visions; I don't understand why at least one play by Shaw isn't being taught in high schools. Students would learn a lot if they were exposed to his vision---particularly Major Barbara, which I think is extremely timely in this world we live in where money and idealism live next to each other. Other than that, reading a little bit of War and Peace each time I hit the library, and have started the Philip Roth biography---also in the library---what a fat book to carry back to the apartment

Had a bit of an "accident" this morning---served to remind me that I still am in treatment---life very different from the one that I had pre-pandemic. Can I return to it? Not at the moment--yet I am comfortable living much closer to home---walking the streets of my neighborhood---the upper west side. Strange---pre pandemic and illness I hated the idea of staying in the neighborhood in my leisure time. Makes sense, though---there is not a lot of friendliness or openness as I walk these upper west side streets---i think neighborhoods in Brooklyn would be friendlier. This morning's "accident" has made me a little more determined to travel, but i am tired, now, and might have to use today as a rest day.

Anyway, if I return to Brooklyn I will report it--hopefully soon.

Monday morning....

 so many thoughts; so many ideas---where to begin. Yesterday, traveled to Brooklyn. (Trip 3) Got off at Nevins Street, checked out the Brick, found it closed---walked up to the Fiction Center bookstore. Spent a bit of time browsing there---a very unique collection. But then the sadness. Pre-pandemic, it was two floors, lots of room to read, a coffee shop, and the sense of joining a community---a place to "be" if you loved reading. All that gone now---just the large front of the bookstore---no place to sit, to consider, to choose a book from their groups and read some (or all) of it. In 2018-19 read The Not Wives, but Carly Moore there--really intense but loved every minute of it. Just read it all there over a period of weeksl did not buy it at all. So with Brick closed, and the bookstore limited, pushed south, went up to Barclays Center and continued to Bergen and beyond. A great coffee place on Bergen, right by the subway entrance now gone---a little coffee place (without a bathroom) has replaced it. Stopped off at Hungry Ghost, read some of Arms and the Man, by Shaw, then proceeded to walk south to Grand Army Plaza. Almost 53 years since I discovered Park Slope. December of 68---a college friend and his wife were living on Garfield Place. Remember my first journey there on the F train. Felt as if I was going into a twilight zone, before I finally arrived at the 7th Avenue station, and then walked the eight blocks to their apartment on Garfield betweem 7th and 8th. 

 The 52 years of Park Slope. To stand at the Barclays center or thereabouts and look around now is frightening! Development everywhere! What does it show you? A sense of rage, or power---certainly a brutal impresonality---a force, turning the whole neighborhood into one. So I stand on the corner of Bergen and Flatbush--try to see the whole neighborhood over a 52 year period. One remembers when it seemed bohemian---one did not need a whole lot of money to survive in Park Slope. Everything easy. Not very upscale. Cheap (or reasonable) eats. Flatbush avenue now south of Bergen seems full of upscale dining places. It reeks of entitlement. So where are you in this cityboy? Aren't you part of the generation that settled the area, and now reaps its upscale benefits? As I stood on the park edge where Flatbush meets Plaza street, I could sense the calm---far enough away from the towering buildings to appreciate the architecture that surrounded me. Then I grew tired and went home---"chilled out" the rest of the day, with the help of about 60 minor league baseball games available for me to watch. But even that gets to be a bit much--had to shut it down at some point. 

Much joy in reading. A novel by Arthur Phillips, entitled The King at the Edge of the World---about one of my favorite topics---the succession of JamesI to replace Elizabeth as ruler of England. The time of Shakespeare! Also, Arms and the Man, by Shaw--really bright and witty and for the most part, playable.Rest of the day---not sure. Yankee game, Bushwick, some other place in the city,,,? Could be--will report soon.

Wednesday in the rain.....

 Lots of action since last week. The highlight: a trip to Studio 54 on Monday evening, to see Anthony Rapp do a one man show. Anthony, of course, was a close friend of mine from 91 to 96---saw him much less after that, but we still remained friends. Of course, I saw Rent many times, most of them with him in it. But it had been a long time since I had seen him in person.  I was nervous about going; on these "outings" there is always the issue of the bag's "behavior", but it was fresh, and there were really no problems. A lot of action that day, since I had met my friend Joe from Friends earlier for a long coffee conference.  At 54, I was seated with a couple around 40, and a younger woman named Meredith---a true Anthony Rapp fan. We all hit it off well---contact again, very easy to make. Anthony's concert was fine---I enjoyed some songs more than others and would have preferred a little more spoken memories, but the audience was really with him---some in the audience knew him, some did not---so that is all that matters. Loved the energy of 54 downstairs, even as I realized how expensive the place is Not somewhere I can go often---if at all---occasionally they have some places on tdf, but even then, it is pretty expensive. The place is not interested in people who have only $20.00 or less to spend on their entertainment. Afterwards there was a meet and greet, but a trip to the (smallish) mens room convinced me that it would be better to just go home (there was a long line to visit him) and e mail him my good feelings. So that is what I did. When the bus did not show up after a while, I actually splurged for a taxi, just to get home to make sure all was well with the bag. 

Still, very glad I went, exhilirating, almost like a dream event.

Saturday afternoon---feel a little "woozy" from the pills, could not make another trip into Brooklyn as I had done the two Saturdays before, but I did see my first post pandemic movie in a movie theater. It was Annette, at one of the two Lincoln Center movie places--no real problems there, just the movie, which was incredibly obnoxious and "in your face' to the point where I left a little early. Theater had about 30 patrons for a 3:00 showing--really not bad, but the lobby of the theater has no flyers, and no coffee shop--there is still a kind of ghost like feeling when you enter, or going to the mens room, as if one if the only one there. But as hateful as the movie was---the attempt has to be seen as a success. 

So the rain continues to come down--this will definitely be an evening at home. Will report soon.

Try to Remember...

Quite by accident, browsing on facebook, I came across a tape of Jerry Orbach singing Try to Remember, from the Fantasticks. All of a sudden my mind shot back to the summer of 63; during that summer I listened to the recording constantly. I was home, working in a park near the Bronx Zoo, (watching the changes in the neighborhood) and preparing for my senior year at Hopkins. 

Two images immdiately came to mind---the first, of myself in my family's apartment on Thwaites Place, listening to the record, and the second, was of course of J. Who was J? A freshman at Goucher that year when I was a senior at Hopkins. She had come to Goucher to act--and since I was the President of the Hopkins undergraudate theater group, we had to interact. She was thrilled by what I was---incredibly empathetic and wanted to be close to me. Only one problem: she was comitted to a boy friend who was a sophmore at Hamilton. That would not stop her from spending a lot of time with me---but of course--no sex, or even simple hugs and kisses. So what could I do? Once I made up my mind to leave her alone---then she saw me after my performance in J.B. by Archibald MacCleish. "I have never seen you so happy", she said. That was it---I could not give her up---and so for the next six or so months---our relationship, based on this "compromise" continued. Did I believe that at some point she would change, that she would leave her Hamilton boy friend for me?  As I sit here now, all I remember is her ability to "absorb" me. It did not end well; you can understand that. There are moments when I remember another side to her---an ability to push away, to be harsh, if she felt threatened or imposed upon. There were rules to our game.  Yet Try to Remember only made me feel her warmth--the energy in her that I believed in. Perhaps I am "distanced" enough now (well it is only 57 years later)  to simply focus on the warm memories.

The phone rings---a friend unexpectedly is in the neighborhood; we meet for coffee, discuss the state of the city; the pressure on possible Mayor elect Adams to move to the left; black theater, etc. I return to the computer in a very different place; memories of closeness seem to have vanished. I am ready for the next moment in my life.

And what of J? She is now 76, living, I think, in New Jersey (she is not on facebook!).  My fantasy of her is that she lives with a  'boyfriend" around her age---close to retirement--you know the whole thing. Has she "blown out her candles"? I don't know---probably at some point, some other song or play will evoke more memories of our relationship. Oh how I longed to have a girl friend in my senior year at Hopkins--how envious I was of those boys who had them. But that was a long time ago--- in the present.....

A day of Darkness.....

Sunday morning---already it has been raining for a while--seems to be letting up a bit now---are we just waiting for the brutal downpour that has been promised?  It means spending the whole day in the apartment---I think I have enough food for it---but just being hunkered down. Well, have to put up with it---lots to read, am reading a "tell all" now---kind of grim; don't really want to go into it any more.

Yesterday--my second trip to Brooklyn--this time to Bushwick--a place where in the past few years, I have spend many hours. Looked for my old "haunt" the Cobra Club, only to find that it was closed.  I went becasue the Bushwick Starr, one of my favorite theaters, was organizing an arts festival in Maria Hernandez park, right near the theater. But it was early, so I stopped off at a new "hangout" called Nook. It is a large, friendly venue---lots of room to "hang"---I really went there to check on my "bag", to make sure there would be no "trauma" in the park. But I ordered an ice coffee---and after a while it came (they were, at that moment, a little understaffed) and was very good. Outside, Irving Avenue seemed like a dream palace---a place that I knew, but now, even if I was there, was just imagining. But remember, in the last few years before the pandemic, especially after South fourth closed I hung out  there almost every Sunday Finally it was time to enter the park. Glad that I did---had good conversations with Noel, artistic director of the Starr, and Flako--my buddy who acts, directs, and runs acting classes for the neighborhood kids. Both of them were glad to see me---all of a sudden my trip had a purpose. 

Then I left them, and sat on a bench, near one of the places where they were distributing free fruits. The park was full of hispanic families---parents and kids; very few of the gentrifiers that Bushwick has become known for in the past seven or eight years. The kids, and their energy, were very mellow and self contained---both the girls and the boys. Most of them seemed around 8 or 9. I had a strong desire to ask any of them if they needed help in math---I wantd to help them right away, but I did not. After about an hour, I felt ready to leave---probably could have and should have stayed longer, but I was worried about the bag's behavior, so I went. Stopped off at Nook again, and took the risk of cleaning the bag---not perfect but needed to get some junk out before the long trip back to Manhattan. Would the bag behave? Walking back to the subway, I passed a packed beer hall, filled with twenty somethings and such from the neighborhood, all relaxing and deep into conversations. So that is where the gentrifiers were at that moment! Just as the atmosphere in the park, seemed to be about the hispanic population, this atmosphere, was completely white and (I suppose) privileged. Anyway, made it back to the subway, the L going into Manhattan came--very crowded; I sat down next to a few people hoping that all would go well---it did, and I made it back to the apartment without any incident! Yay! Just as I had felt the week before when I returned from the production at the Navy Yard, I felt strong and felt very satisfied. Going to Brooklyn in the future was going to be possible!

Looking out the window, I see the rain falling steadily, though without much force. Maybe that is all that it will be...well, I can hope...will report soon.