odd weekend....

 Saturday was able to accomplish a lot. Went to my bank near Union Square in the morning to make an important deposit---then returned to the apartment and rested until the evening when I felt strong enugh---actually very strong to see the play that my friend directed at a small theater pretty far west on Chrisopher Street. Walking west down Christopher---felt like I was visiting an enormous stage set--low lying buildings with stories from the last fifty years. Finally arrived at my destination--still very strong and saw the play, entitled "the Jewish Plot" an incredibly effective piece---it begins with what simply seems like a sharp"take" on a victorian melodrama, and then evolves into a passionate and somewhat difficult diatribe by the playwright on his vision of being a Jew. It was totally unexpected because  the set up is so skillful that the final monologue---spoken by an actress who is a friend of the playwright---is almost a diatribe--harsh and a little overlong, but nevertheless very passionate. Lots to think about in terms of both content and structure. Afterwards a talk back---when it was over I introduced myself to the playwright and found out that his mother and I could have been neighbors growing up in the Bronx. Does he want to know more about what that was like? May contact  him to find out. Tired as I left the theater but made it home okay.

Yesterday very different. Not sure of what I wanted to do. Body tired--I have to come to terms with the fact that one "active" weekend day may ause my body to insist on rest the next day. Thought this would only be after the first Thursday of chem, but now it seems to be the other two weekends as well---though it does not seem to effect my tutoring. But yesterday---sort of at the mercy of my body---a brief visit to a crowded Drama Bookstore was disappointing--then returned to the apartment feeling empty---rested as my body told me to---then went to Lincoln Center with the thought of seeing one of the four very interesting movies there but felt tired are returned home---very frustrated. "Saved" by a surprise phone call from my cousing Kara--we chatted, believe it or not---for about an hour; the ostensible purpose of the phone call was the invite to the family Thanksgiving at her sister's apartment--but the conversation had a really good flow, and I understood it was reviving my "life feeling" Still, when it was over, my body's demand for rest continued and so a emotional torpor continued through the night---until now, which is why I decided to write this.

So we move on---today must go to the pharmacy that provides me with my ostomy supplies---they do a great job but must travel to 122nd and third--the trip is usually easier then I imagine, but is another "task" that I have to follow---then return to the apartment until time to go up to the library on 145th and Amsterdam. Other obligations as well---might as well begin them.

so it is over...

 a bit of a letdown, but still happy with the Mayoral elesection results. Interesting now to see how the new Mayor puts together his inner circle===that is his deputy mayors and commissioners.  Upset at just how much fear mongering goes into public statements about different politicians of different stripes. Still have never participated in an active discussion about the current state of the city---would really like to, but I have no idea where this is happening, or if it is happening.

Yesterday, 4 straight hours of tutoring---less today, I think , but still some rigouours demands. Outside the world of theater, movies, etc, moves on---almost independently of much eles happening in the city. I am very aware of it, but it escapes me.A friend of mine is directing a play performing in a space in the west vilage---I was all set to go Sunday around 6 but could not leave the upper west side because the subways were overwhelmed by marathon "revelers"--such a sense of self entitlement I have rarely scene---another garish celebration without humility.How do there images dovetail with the new Mayor's victory---hard to say. It would have been fun to join a victory party last night in any bar that was celebrating, but my body was really tired so I got the results in the apartment.

Apartment finally will be "cleaned' today---of course it means I have to spend much time cleaning up the apartment to get ready for the woman who is cleaning. More work; more preparation---so it goes.

the morning comes...

 5 A.M. Sleep seems to be over. That is what it is like on this medication: either  I am very tired, or find it impossible to sleep. But I suvived it. What to look forward to this week: another infusion on Thursday,You know by now what that means: this coming weekend I should just be "in recovery" that is, very tired, as the steroids and other medication that "front" the real chemo move out of my body. No plans possible for that weekend. Well, maybe a movie, if my body will let me. Then, hopefully "the libearation" in the days after that, however, the torpor from the medication does return from time to time, somewhat unexpectedly, as it did this weekend. 

Strange weekend---accmplished a lot, but some moments very difficult. Friday 3 students---I really gave them my best---especially the first, a fifth grader needing a lot of input. Pleased, but very little energy on Saturday. Yesterday, I was determined to see Blue Moon, the movie about Lorenz Hart and his self destructive binge on the night that Oklahoma opened. Saw the morning show at AMC. Enjoyed the movie---full of trivia that I was very familiar with. Mr. H was brilliant, and got some great support from Bobby Canavale. Some parts move a little slowly, but glad I saw it---Hart both meaningful, pathetic and repugnant at the same time. But he is alone. Is there something there that I could identify with? Possibly, since I seem to have been "forgotten" by many of my former friends. Yes, on some level, "I am he", but of course on other levels definitely not. I don't need to hurt myself when I feel lonely---I have learned how to take charge of those feelings.  Also, I am a lot older then he was then, and still pretty strong physically. Sometimes I forget the positives that I do---the excellent lessons that I am giving or writing a critique of a supplement for a Bronx Science senior, that I have been asked to do. I wrote it in about 20 minutes--yet made my points very clear--got a response immediately from the student thanking me and accepting my insight. Should not I feel "great" about that. Well, lots of throughts.

work begins today--not sure how many students--some firming up to do. How much "free time" to move in "other worlds", I am not sure of. Sometimes I feel "trapped" in my tutoring schedule---but it keeps me going.  Still "grappling" with some personal issues. Maybe discuss that some other time.

The "Circus" continues...

 By that I mean the two worlds that inhabit the city. The world of "arts", that is entertainment, an inordinate amount of movies to see; theater---off Broadway and off off, exploding in front of me---everybody busy---but what of the world that the administration is bent on destroying.  Hard to separate myself from that---but also "easy" when I feel like it. I would like to see some "act of rejection" from an artist---a withdrawal in solidarity with those threatened by the government---but that does not seem to have occurred to anyone. So the "seesaw" continues.

Interesting day today---went to Metrograph to see a movie, Happyend, that was made by Neo, a member of the Friends Seminary class of 09. One of my favorite classes---I have always tried to keep up with the growth of all of them. Felt vulnerable, but did feel the movie was very strong. Should try to contact some of Neo's classmates to tell them how impressed I was by the film. It was shown at Metrograph, on Ludlow near Canal---the staff was great---very friendly and helpful. The lobby has a great quality--a darkness that seems to say: "here film is amazing!" Something about being there while I was waiting for the film to begin made me feel excited. Want to go back soon---but other life issues may prevent that. Afterwards, wandered around the neighborhood a bit as I walked to the F train on Essex and Delancey. God! what a change---luxury buildings all over---up scale stores--a new luxury apartment house facing a "project"---well that is NY now.

Not much else---back to work tomorrow---body still dealing with chemo effects---but it did not stop me from visiting the lower east side to see the movie. Lots of "art" to focus on, as I conveniently"forget" the horrors of the present.

Who am I?

 Friday morning. Early-around 4. Cold in the apartment. As usual, heat is late or non existant. Heaters going full blast. Why did I never live in Brooklyn Heights? That is the question that I asked myself a few minutes ago, after visiting Brownstoner, a web site with Brooklyn real estate listings? Woudn't  have made sense for,, at some point in my "adult development" to have either found a cheap apartment there, or even bought a house. Isn't that the "story" of my generation? Yet here I sit, in a cold studio on the upper west side---I how  did this destiny elude me.    

Begiinning second week of the "treatment", Yesterday, only one student---thought that I might be able to "do something interesting" in the evening. It almost happened. As I left the library on 145 and Amsterdam, I would not allow myself to go  west to the 1 train---to make me back to the apartment. Instead, walked the 2 blocks to the A and D train---jumped on the D and took it to 42nd street---my "destination" was the NIarchos library that covers the east side of 5th between 40th street and 39 street. But I was hungry when I got off, actually ravenously so. Pret a Manger was nearby---grabbed a half chicken salad sandwich---why half? Because a "full" sandwich would have cost me over $10.00. Not happening. Enraged that it would cost so much. Instead, settled for the half and left with my stomach still asking for more. The 'more" was a chocolate chip donut---very rich---but all it did was unbalance my stomach. Strange dissonance in the body. Was this the body that, pre pandemic, easily went from Manhattan to Bushwick, then back to downtown Brooklyn and then home? I guess not.

Visited the library. Got the novel I was looking for---"Sergeant Salinger" by Jerome Charyn. I just read another novel by him, called Ravage and Son---a kaleidoscopic novel of the poor Jews and rich Jews of the lower east side at the turn of the 20th century. This  one of course is Charyn's take on JD Salinger in the military service of World War II. Charyn is about 88- probably Salinger would be the same age if he was alive--maybe a little older. Also got a book about Joe Dimaggio. I need to read something to relax me and that will be it.

Long weekend ahead---coming to terms with the fact that my energy will not be what I would like it to be. The city is full of choices for the artistic minded---all running parallel to the horrors of the current administration. So where are we in this? Not sure. Constant dialogueing with my body.

Night on 84 street

A weekend of rest---"enforced" rest--recovering from the chemo infusion on Thursday. Not much done except reading---but very interesting reading---but more of that later. Finally had to get out at night. Could not stay in. Visited the "game" coffee shop on 84 street directly west of Amsterdam. Probably the only place in the neighborhood where one can sit and read and not have to drink alcohol. Somewhat welcoming, though they got my order wrong. Continued reading Henry VI part II, a fascinating mess of different styles--I can't believe that only one person  was the author---one amazing scene in which a landowner kills Jack Cade, a commoner who had tried to gather an army of citizens and seize the  thrown. Lots to think about---does the scene forshadw MacBeth? 

Finally left--decided not to return to my apartment via Amsterdam, with its multiple bars-restaurants but opted for the much more quieter Broadway. First, however the trip from the coffee shop to the Broadway corner--dark and not much attended---and then the memory---that in the early sixties, the street was considered the most dangerous one in the city. And now--a west side nightmare turned into a much tamer block. But as I walked in the dark, I could almost experience  the "horror" of the past---sixty years of vision--the story of a street. I felt like I was reaching into the void. But of course, that is what one carries with one as one ages---the memory---the story of the past. Every walk down the west side streets, or the east side, or Park Slope, is like a movie--sixty or so years of change---my generation trying to find itself-- the :cooness" of not having a lot of money--and still living comfortably. The street was quiet-dark---did I think I was walking into a nightmare. 

Broadway from 84th South to the apartment. Quiet, a few restaurants opened---a few couples sitting in the outdoors outside one of the candy shops. A strange contrast to Amsterdam--on the trip to the coffee shop  I spent much time dodging people--weaing in and out.

So there we go. Had to publish this--give voice to the "nightmare voyage", Tomorrow a full day of work---and possibly laundry.

On the "upper west"

 Had a chance to wander around the Central Park West and Columbus Avenue corridor this afternoon and early evening. First,  went to Plaza Cinema--the"invented" movie house that is actually in a Church. Yet they program  some interesting movies--today I saw "Sorry, Baby" a well thought out and sensitive movie by Eva Victor--about a young woman recovering from a rape by her graduate school professor. The theater is mostly attended by the elderly of the upper west---they seem to flock there. But the real highlight of the afternoon was roaming around the area---walking east on 68 street from Columbus to Central Park West, and then west on 67street from CPW to the movie theater which is almost at Columbus.Memories---stories from the last sixty years---the area now seems full of wealth, but what was it like in the late sixties when I first moved to the upper west side. Brownstones that could be drug dens. Other brownstones with three separate rooms on a floor and one bathroom shared by each of the rooms. I knew several people who lived that way; if you were young--in your twenties or early thirties and were not sure where you were going, it was normal. Now, they are simply "stately" brownstones.  Both 68 and 67 street contain many large houses that must have been pre war--especially on 67 street, I had never known that they were there---who lived there in the sixties? Must have been a middle class, professional population. The side streets, as I have just mentioned, could be dangerous. Yet these are beautifully designed apartment house---of course, now they are all probably coops. Oh, and yes, the many welfare hotels that stood off the avenues--a very different world,  yet one could travel on it, as I did in the mid and late sixties without any real fear. But the energy was more "rough hewn"---one had to be careful. And a  huge gulf still existed between the upper west side, and the upper east, across the park. Any one looking for stability or whose goal was to :move up" in the world, would not be caught on the upper west side--the change, as I saw it, came in the late seventies, but that is another story.

After the movie, went for some pizza ---did not like the nearest one on 68th off Columbus---a little grimy---so I wandered north on Columbus to 74th street. Amazed at what I saw---restuarant after restaurant lining  Columbus. and a few on the side streets as well. How many? Could easily be close to twenty---all about the same prices---I would think 40 or 50 dollars per person is the norm--and, most of them pretty filled up. This is what the neighborhood has become--many young couples walking the streets---some smiled at me---a nice energy--I really wanted to be part of it---enjoy it. But my financial fortunes would not allow me to enter any of those places---and since the pandemic I am not sure how comfortable I would feel in them. Things are so different now--pre pandemic there were bartenders who knew and liked me---who would let me "hang" even if I did not order much--lots of good conversation and a feeling of welcome---but I don't have that now. Bar prices are much higher---the medication that I take for my on going illness  prevents me from ordering a beer---and those more friendly places in Brooklyn are much harder for me to get to now, as my stamina levels are very different. . And I have not found any place in the immediate neighborhood that I can consider a hangout. So I remain, "separate".

Already nine o clock---should get back to my reading---tomorrow seeing McCraney's play, The Brother Size, at the Shed in Hudson Yards. My first visit there---will go early and try to get a sense of the place--will report soon.