Sweet Things

There is a wonderful bakery around the corner from my apartment. It is well known in the city, and there usually is a line outside. Its reputation is deserved. They make the best banana cake!

This week I watched three young boys enter the bakery and press their faces against the glass cases. They appeared to be second graders. Instantly I could sense the joy, wonder, and anticipation they felt upon looking at all of the sweet delights. The smell in that room is intoxicating. The visuals can put one over the edge.

These boys looked like they might live in the housing project down the street. They composed the only people of color in the room. The leader inquired about the cost of a cupcake, and the reaction was disappointment. His two friends sat down with frowns. One seemed uncomfortable and eager to leave.

The leader continued to review the options and make inquires about prices. Could he buy a cupcake without frosting? Was it cheaper?

As he deliberated, one of his friends walked to the front door, opened it, stood on the threshold, spit his sunflower seeds out onto the sidewalk in a beautiful three-foot arc, and walked back to his seat.

I exchanged a look with the man enjoying a piece of cake at the adjoining table. Neither of us could suppress our laughter. This young fellow's innocent lack of propriety was positively refreshing.

Finally the leader returned to his friends. He had purchased two cupcakes. He ate one and let his two friends share the other one. All of them seemed satisfied.

I felt as if I had lived through a Norman Rockwell scene.

Stunning

My yogini friend is taking off for Mexico to teach yoga at a spa. I won't see her for a few months, so I wanted to get some time with her before she goes away. I made dinner for her in my apartment. We talked non-stop for about six hours.

The weather is pleasant, so we ventured out after eating to walk to a couple of parks in my neighborhood. To our delight, there was a fantastic salsa band playing on the High Line. A large crowd was dancing. We immediately joined them.

That's how it is with my yogini friend. Each knew the other would want to dance. We dove into the crowd without saying a word.

While dancing I noticed a very attractive man in the crowd. The music stopped and my friend asked that we hang out so she could say hello to someone she knew.

Lo and behold, it was the gorgeous man.

They exchanged greetings and talked about yoga class. He was annoyed that some of the instructors argue with their boyfriends on their cell phones before class, and then preach detachment.

At some point my friend asked him whether he was still modeling. He said he hadn't in the past year because there was a problem. Now he is just teaching yoga for a fraction of what he used to earn.

She asked what the problem was. He shook his head as if it was to complex to convey.

I touched his arm, looked in his eyes, and said "It's because you're ugly."

He's a model. He knew I was kidding, and all calmness and sincerely said, "No, its because of this problem."

He was doing a job in Columbia, and was detained by US immigration when he tried to return to the US. It took a year and a half to settle the issue. In the meantime, he couldn't get any work while in Columbia because "everyone looks like me."

I said, "Everyone looks like you in Columbia? I am moving there!"

He was slightly offended. "No! No! I am not from Columbia!" He pointed to the middle of his chest, "In Columbia, they are only this tall. I am from Argentina!"

Note to self: I must move to Argentina.

As we walked away the yogini told me he was straight. My jaw about hit the ground.

Retreat

It has been a particularly brutal weather week. Every day the temperature has been in the 90s, so the air conditioning is on. But it makes little difference in a railroad apartment with little air circulation. All of the cool air sits in one room and is quickly overcome by the hot air rising from apartments three stories below.

My mermaid friend lives about 1,000 feet from the Ocean in Coney Island. She has a new boy friend in upstate New York, and travels to see him most weekends. Since she would be away a long time over the holiday weekend, she invited me to enjoy her home in her absence.

I love the fact that I can take the subway to the beach. The change in environment in such a short distance (as the crow flies) is remarkable. The air must be about 5-10 degrees cooler in Coney Island than it is in Manhattan.

At the mermaid's apartment by the water, it is even cooler. I had to wear a sweater at night.

I brought a stack of New Yorker magazines and a sack of groceries. It was great to relax and enjoy reading in the garden or on the sand.

And it was wonderful to be able to use the oven and stove to cook real food. There is a thermometer in my apartment kitchen, and it was hovering between 95-100 degrees. Even boiling water makes the kitchen intolerable. The nights at the beach were so cool I was able to roast corn in the oven!

Since I was in a place that was large enough for entertaining, I invited a few people to visit. My yogini friend was the first to accept my offer.

We met in India. She was my first room mate there, and I adore her thoroughly. She is also looking for work and having a very lean year. Lately, she has been too depressed to socialize. She almost didn't make it to the beach, but it was a blessing that she did. We had a wonderful visit.

A horrid break-up and a bad dye job had left her feeling wretched. We conversed in the garden, consulted the tarot, walked on the beach, and plotted for her to find a studio from which she could teach yoga classes.

It was as if our meeting nourished her in some way.

When we were in India, she cared for me while I was sick. Although she barely knew me, she sprang out of bed at 3am and routed through her medicine chest to find the right homeopathic remedies. I think she stayed up with me for the rest of the night. In the morning she consulted with our guide on my behalf. My choices were to stay alone in this isolated, tiny town a day's journey from a hospital or to take a grueling day-long bus ride over dirt roads to Pushkar. She got me through the bus trip.

I feel a strong bond with her.

At a time when I have little to offer, it felt marvelous to share my borrowed piece of paradise with her. She arrived agitated and sad, but she left feeling hopeful and refreshed. Her beautiful face was glowing again. She said the change in environment had a profound positive impact on her.

It really is far more satisfying to share good fortune than to hoard it. A friend helped me and I was able to help a friend. This truly makes me happy.

The New Old Friend

My composer friend has become my new gay husband.

Like many relationships, ours has been strengthened by proximity and copious free time.

We met in college. He lived across the hall from me. Now he lives 30 blocks away, which I consider walking distance. Recently his work schedule has contracted -- he is a professor and one of his classes was cut due to budget considerations. More importantly, his boyfriend has chased work to Illinois.

We realized that we now meet about once or twice a week. We do mundane things together. The types of things we did in college, such as watch Bollywood movies on television and make dinner together. These are inexpensive ways to meet, but they are also luxuries at our age when time tends to become more precious.

Although we have known one another for nearly two decades, we have discovered new things about each other. I've learned that he has become a very good cook. He also has pursued an interest in regency-era British female authors. This is a literary interest that I share, and it has been a delight to discuss literature and the manners and history of that era with him.

Our deepening friendship has been an unexpected pleasure during this fallow time.

Monkey Slap

There are some people with whom I establish a connection in an instant.

This doesn't happen often, but when it does it is a marvelous event.

I met my Macy's manager friend through a former work colleague. They are room mates. Upon introduction the manager invited me to participate in the Macy's parade.

Participating in that parade was a lifelong ambition. He had me at hello.

Although we get along very well, I haven't seen him in several months.

I was delighted when called me yesterday. He wants to visit to India and was seeking travel tips. Talking about India is one of my favorite things.

Within half an hour we were seated at dinner together.

I gave him the basic advice, some guidebooks, and far too many travel stories -- some of which included monkeys. He grew excited. He loves monkeys!

He told me that he had a pet monkey when he was a teenager growing up in Mexico City. Monkeys are adorable but, he warned ominously, they are also wily.

He relayed a story about working at a restaurant in Mexico City that kept caged monkeys.

One day the monkeys made coy faces at him. "They acted like coquettes!" he told me while imitating their pin-up style facial expressions and poses. They were so cute he moved closer to get a better look at them.

When he was near enough to the cage, a monkey's paw grabbed his hair roughly and pulled him up against the bars. My friend was eating candy. The monkey slapped his face and took his candy!

"They played me, Darling!"

I laughed until I cried.

Dim and Bright Beacons

It may sound pretentious, but I often think about a section in Walden in which Thoreau discusses intentionally becoming lost or losing his beacons. Like Thoreau, I acknowledge the trepidation in this event, but also the benefit. Sometimes I think time is slowly erasing my beacons without my awareness of their disappearance.

I have an artist friend who has become more of an acquaintance over the past few years. She has introduced me to many of her friends. It is slightly ironic that I have strengthened friendships with the several women I met through her while our relationship has waned.

This artist has set an agenda for herself and works diligently. It is clear that she has chosen to pursue her art career rather than friendships. I admire her resolve and do not feel slighted by her decision.

When I hear from her, it is usually through an email about a show in which she is participating. Usually, her shows are located outside of Manhattan and I am working. But this week, she had a show in Nolita.

Yesterday, I met a designer friend to attend her show. He is a lovely person with a unique perspective, and I treasure our conversations.

Unfortunately, there was someone in the gallery who had treated him badly in the past. He did not want to go inside.

I understood his reluctance to see this person. I quickly saw the show and said hello to the artist. It was a very good show, and I would have lingered further under different circumstances. I felt the tug of respecting the decorum of the gallery visit and the needs of my friend.

The designer was hungry. We walked to a pizza place so he could get a slice to go. As we walked, we noticed another art opening that looked promising. He finished his slice outside while I went inside to see whether the work on display was by Chris Roberts-Antieau, an artist I discovered at the American Visionary Arts Museum this summer. It was.

As I stood in front of a piece I admired, I noticed another artist standing behind me. It was Marie Roberts, who is a favorite painter and an acquaintance. It was a pleasant surprise to see her. I introduced her to my friend, who presented her with an "optimism" button that she really liked.

The designer and I wandered into a couple more galleries before heading home. He confessed to me that he is in a relationship, and I am delighted on his behalf. He is a wonderful person who deserves a good partner.

It is interesting how events can wend over years or an evening. It was a night of thwarted intentions and welcome unintended events.

Something To Look Forward To

As unemployment drags on, I battle feelings of despair. For one who lives alone, the loss of a work environment is isolating. It is difficult to entertain in small apartments, so many New Yorkers meet in public places.

Generally, I see my friends over drinks, a meal, or at an event. Now that I cannot afford drinks, meals, or event tickets, the opportunity to mingle with friends has diminished.

Since many of my friends are unemployed or retrenching, we attempt to meet by doing things that are free or inexpensive, such as going to the park or visiting a museum (with free admission).

I recognize the importance of socializing to battle depression, and I have made an effort to find affordable ways to spend time with my friends.

Though a friend's Face Book post I learned about a group that is attempting to break the world's record for the most people dancing the same dance simultaneously. The group, Thrill the World, has organized the choreography to Thriller in easy to understand steps and they are holding free dance lessons weekly in New York City.

The fifth grader in me is super excited to break a world's record. The present me is glad to have free dance classes that I can take with friends.

These dates on my social calendar help structure my time and give me something to look forward to.

And I made a new friend who has signed me up to be a volunteer for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This is something I have always wanted to do!

Now I am looking forward to free Thriller dance classes, the record-breaking event, performing in the Halloween Parade, and volunteering in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Dance Treats

A friend at City Center helped me obtain a slew of tickets for the annual Fall for Dance festival this year. Since tickets are only $10 and I am unlikely to be able to indulge in tickets for any event for so little, I splurged and got tickets to four performances over two weeks.

It was such a pleasure to connect with different friends every few nights. I am fortunate to have this connection, and I enjoy sharing my fortune with friends. It was a treat to get out and to have an occasion to attend. It felt good to do something I did as an employed person who could afford to engage more in the world.

It is the centennial anniversary of the Ballets Russes, a company that has long intrigued me. To mark the celebration, many dances originally produced by the Ballet Russes were performed during the festival (Afternoon of a Faun, Noces, Petrushka Suite, Les Biches).

Ballet Russes has often emerged in readings about some of my favorite painters, film makers, and writers. Matisse, Picasso, Derain, Miro, Cocteau, Dali, and Chanel are among the luminaries who designed the company's sets and costumes. I vaguely recall seeing scratchy old film footage of Nijinsky performing Afternoon of a Faun and hearing about the riot sparked by the premier of Rite of Spring. Ballet Russes is one of my favorite documentary films.

I had often wished to see what their productions were like, so the program was a special pleasure for me.

Boston Ballet's "Afternoon of a Faun" was a faithful recreation of the original production. The expressionist set design was gorgeous. The dance style, inspired by Greek vase paintings, appears stilted and quaint now, but one can appreciate it in context.

Les Grand Ballets Canadiens de Montreal's "Noces" was a reinterpretation. The original piece highlighted traditional Russian folk dancing at a peasant wedding. Apparently, it was a wedding themed ballet without romance. It is difficult to comment on the new piece without having seen the original. The new piece also includes the wedding party and there is interaction among the sexes, but they are presented in zombie-like attire that drains them of sensuality. The piece emphasizes the roles of men and women attending a social event devoted to honoring the union of a man and woman.

Ballet West performed "Les Biches" with a set based on paintings by Matisse. The set and costumes were consistent with those that would be used when the ballet originally was produced. The male costumes included bathing briefs worn with socks, which made me laugh out loud. The flapper character wore long beads and held a long cigarette holder. I loved that her movements were accompanied by swinging and clanking jewelry. It was also funny to see an athlete perform complicated moves while holding a cigarette.

Of course their were many other performances, and among the best was Savion Glover and the Others. They were simply amazing. I love it when dancers perform to live music with the musicians on stage. It was exceptional to see the dancers and musicians perform in concert as the taps of the dancer were an integral part of the music.

Other notable performances were Batsheva's "B/olero," Tangueros Del Sur's "Romper el Piso" (such drama!), Morphoses/The Wheeldon Company's "Softly as I Leave You" (how could a plywood box look so beautiful?), Monica Bill Barnes & Company "I Feel Like," and Dancebrazil "Culture in Motion."

Unraveling Net

My friends far and wide have been wonderful in helping me look for work. They have provided me with people to call to network, which is the best way to find employment.

A friend from high school contacted me through Face Book and gave me the name of a woman at a PR firm to contact. Today I called her, but she was no longer at the firm. It appears that she was laid off.

This seems to indicate the depth of the unemployment crisis. The laid off are reaching out to the employed network, and finding out their network contacts have also joined the ranks of the unemployed.