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.

Grey Gardens Burlesque

Thank god I made it to Grey Gardens burlesque last night. It was off the hook. Coney Island Burlesque on the Beach basically reenacted the film (using the play soundtrack) with a burlesque twist.

It opened with little Edie doing a striptease in which she takes off one head wrap after another. I was in convulsions. Finally, the Lilly Pulitzer bathing suit comes off and she's got on enormous white underwear with a stain and bunched up pantyhose for pasties.

Tigger was the marble fawn. He stripped for Edie's corn. He pulled a raccoon's tail out of his dirty tighty whiteys and then out of his ass. For the finale he showered in corn.

Little Brooklyn did this number where she was little Edie taking a swim. As she swims she's attacked by a shark. She would go under the water and emerge with these glittery wounds attached to her body.

A skinny french raccoon performed a short monologue and then "a dance plastique that will confuse you." It was like something out of a 1950s American interpretation of France. Very funny.

I hope they revive this one. Brilliant! All of the performers deserve a MacArthur genius grant.

Gifted

I have served on the benefit host committee of Coney Island USA for a few years. Each year, I act as a Coney Island USA cheerleader until five friends buy $100 tickets to the annual gala fundraiser.

Fortunately, this year I declined to be on the committee. I suspected I wouldn't be able to raise the minimum amount, and didn't want to be held accountable by making a $500 donation I couldn't afford.

Although I know I made the right decision, it made me sad to miss the gala. It is the best party in New York City.

What a happy surprise when my mermaid friend and former benefit host committee pal informed me she bought a ticket for me! I am blessed with wonderful friends.

We enjoyed the knife-throwing, burlesque, music, fire-eating, sword-swallowing, and trapeze shows. During the breaks in the shows, we danced like our lives depended upon using every ounce of energy in our bodies.

It is a running joke that I try to kill the mermaid's boyfriend by exhausting him on the dance floor. We give it our best shot each year at the gala.

Several of the performers and other party-goers joined us. Such a happy, bouncing group must have been attractive.

I love dancing and welcome others who share the spirit. This pretty girl danced with me for a while. Before taking off with friends she told me that she loved my beautiful smile.

This is the kind of exchange that is difficult to express in the hyper sexualized and homophobic United States. Sometimes you get the opportunity to just enjoy being with people -- even if they are strangers. I suppose my only agenda is to try to walk away from an interaction without unpleasantness. There is no angling for anything like money or sex, and I prefer the same from others. It is so cool when other people are on the same page and we can just have fun.

It was a blast to jump around with my friends and this girl. Her compliment was generous and I am grateful to her for it.

Later, one of the burlesque girls joined us. At one point she dipped me and bit me on the belly! It was quite a surprise, but I thank her for giving me a great anecdote for the rest of the month.

Uprising

My mermaid friend in Coney Island often hosts holiday feasts. I took the hour and a half subway ride to the beach on a beautiful Easter Sunday.

I walked the length of the boardwalk to her Seagate apartment. It was a glorious sunny day. I ate a caramel apple and carried a bag containing my roasted potatoes dish for the party.

The mermaid has a wonderful collection of friends. We chatted and grazed until the needle dropped on the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack.

The six foot plus former Golden Gloves champion couldn't resist doing a John Travolta move across the floor. This was our gateway to bliss. Every song got our bodies moving.

We formed a line and danced. We had duets and solos. Other guests arrived to find us in full swing by 6pm.

An extra long twisting session left us exhausted and sweaty. We put on our coats and walked to the beach.

It was cold but there was a beautiful sunset. The strong wind swept the sand so it looked like a low, moving fog hovering above the dunes. The cold water swimmer took a dip in the frigid ocean.

You never know where the day will take you. This was the best Easter I have ever celebrated. I felt uplifted. None of us expected a joyous dance party. We were all grateful to get one.

Dancing requires more than timed movements. It also takes a nexus of participants, a rare event in the US.

We seemed like a diverse crowd of personalities. We didn't know whether others at the party were the type to risk swaying to the Bee Gees. What an unlikely blessing that all of us shared a love for the music and movement. We created elation.