Driving home from work I listened to Eartha Kitt. I hate how all of the legends that I grew up knowing are one bu one departing this earth. Like most my age, my first encounter with Eartha Kitt was when she played Catwoman on Batman. My father taught me more about her: his Aunt's husband was a major investor in "New Faces of 52" the Broadway show that made her a star (and had my friend Ellen's mother, Faith Stewart-Gordon in the chorus).
I bought her albums, I went and saw her at The Ballroom, at Cafe Carlyle, any chance I could get. Then there was that one special night: It was partner David's birthday, and we had planned to see Eartha at the Carlyle. Unfortunately, her night off was the same as David's and we had to cancel the plans. David had a friend, Jon, who worked with her on tour and remained friendly with her, and we were all going to go and have a drink with her afterwards. We were bummed.
We planned to just have a dinner party instead. I had graduated from cooking school and was eager to show off. We invited Jon and a friend of mine for a small party. A few minutes after David left for the matinee Jon called. He told me that he was bringing a guest to dinner and that it was Eartha. I scrambled to get the house spotless and really pull out all the stops.
When David got home, things were buzzing. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and I asked David to get it. I heard the door open and David call out "Oh my God! Eartha Kitt's come to dinner." And so she had.
We had no dining room or real table to eat at and usually gathered around a huge square coffee table. Eartha pulled off her boots, sat on the floor at the table and we spent the next six hours talking politics, theatre, anything and everything. We were all overwhelmed by her intelligence, her intensity, her warmth. She admired a wooden bird my father had carved, and I had Dad send her one the next day!
Just a few years ago, David was hired to design the hair and provide the wigs to the Off-Broadway musical "Mimi LeDuck," in which Eartha was starring. It was another chance to ge to know her. She liked the wigs David made for her for the show so much, she ordered more after the show closed.
It's odd that most of the people around here that I encounter don't have any idea who she is. I'm feeling old, very old...how can one compare an Eartha Kitt, a Hermoine Gingold, a Marlene Dietrich to Britney Spears, Kindsay Lohan or any of these contemporary "performers"?
If you don't know about her look up what she said a luncheon held at the White House by LadyBird Johnson.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Where's Einstein When You Need Him?
OK, this is CRAZY. We left Ft. Lauderdale Florida, Eastern Standard Time. Sailed east to Cartagena, Colombia, which technically was one hour ahead of us, but we did not set our clocks forward. We then sailed west to Panama, certainly crossing back into our original time zone, and going through at least one in the other direction, probably two (central time, mountain time). We did not change our clocks. Last night, after going through the Panama Canal and sailing into the Pacific Ocean, we set our clocks back one hour. We are now sailing up the Pacific coast of Central America, where everyone is living on pacific Time, yet we are on U.S. central time. Twice more on this cruise, as we sail north, we will set our clocks back one hour, until we arrive in San Diego at US Pacific standard Time. We will then get on a plane, fly to New York and be back on Eastern Standard Time. Our time zone has nothing to do with location and everything to do with “I said so, that’s why.” I need Mr. Einstein to explain this whole time thing to me. Who came up with this whole 24 hour day thing anyway? Why aren’t there 10 really long periods of time instead, divided by ten shorter (but longer than a minute) or 100 longer than a minute units of time. Why this twenty four, divided by sixty thing anyway? Most of the world is on the metric system, but universally our time is on this 24-60 system. I’m not even sure I get this seven days a week thing. Why aren’t there six or eight days (I could use that extra day for laundry and yard work). We would simply adjust our months accordingly. As of now, things don’t always quite work out. We do have leap year, after all. The Hebrew Calendar, a lunar-based system has a leap month every seven years, for Pete’s sake! (actually we know it’s not for Pete, especially if by Pete, we’re referring to St. Peter, who might have started out Jewish, but certainly didn’t wind up that way – but I digress). You’ll have to pardon these ramblings, but as I write I am staring at the blue-grey Pacific as it meets the white-blue sky at the horizon, moderately early in the morning. Is it &:00am? 10:00am? 8:00am? 9:00am? HELP!!!!!!!! I’m caught in a whirlpool of timezones.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
A Man: A Plan: A Canal: Panama
A hot, hot and humid day…sun beats down on us as we stand or sit along the railings of the ship as we slowly creep into the first channel of the Panama Canal the tugboats and pilot boats come along side, the pilot boards our ship. A marvel of engineering that takes water from the river which pours into the lake and dumps 26 million gallons a day into each of the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, all relying on gravity. Hot people, sweaty people, pushy people, obnoxious people, people who won’t let others get the photos they are getting, people who are happy to complain about everyone else, people who are happy to lend a hand to someone else, who are generous of spirit and railing position.
The lush thick green jungle on either side of this human-dug waterway was pregnant with animals and birds. Every second we expected to see some creature make its appearance on the water’s edge. Finally, a small crocodile came out of some weeds on the shore and went for a swim just close enough for us to see it with our binoculars.
It was exciting to go through the canal, yet I can’t quite figure out why. The actual process was slow and tedious. The ship moves slowly, the gates close behind you, an act you can only see on the aft deck, so if you are anywhere else, you don’t notice. The boat stops for 30-45 minutes, raising or lowering almost imperceptibly. The gates in front of you open (which you can’t see because even if you are at the bow, you are too far above and your own ship gets in the way. The ship slowly moves a little bit, then repeats the process. After the first lock, it’s the same thing three times, a slow sail through a lake, then more of the same on the Pacific side. So why was this exciting? Was it crowd mentality? Nearly 2,000 people lined up around the edge of the ship waiting with antici------pation for this to start. Was it a sense of history? The nature of seeing something we learned about in history class in person, for real, ourselves? Was it the fact that this was something to do, something mildly exclusive? Not everyone, in fact no one I knew had ever been through the Panama Canal, so although the actual passage through was not exotic, the act of the passage was. Learning about the failed French attempts to create a canal, and then the eventual success of the UNITED States, the more than 20,000 deaths that resulted from its construction , how it was actually constructed, the political machinations and corruptions: these are all interesting and somewhat exciting to me. The actual, boring process of going through the canal was not exciting after we were halfway through the first lock’s machinations……so why did I take over 500 photographs today? Why could I not turn away from the activity, moving from bow to stern to port to starboard, up to the highest deck, down to the lowest? Why the hell was I so excited?
The lush thick green jungle on either side of this human-dug waterway was pregnant with animals and birds. Every second we expected to see some creature make its appearance on the water’s edge. Finally, a small crocodile came out of some weeds on the shore and went for a swim just close enough for us to see it with our binoculars.
It was exciting to go through the canal, yet I can’t quite figure out why. The actual process was slow and tedious. The ship moves slowly, the gates close behind you, an act you can only see on the aft deck, so if you are anywhere else, you don’t notice. The boat stops for 30-45 minutes, raising or lowering almost imperceptibly. The gates in front of you open (which you can’t see because even if you are at the bow, you are too far above and your own ship gets in the way. The ship slowly moves a little bit, then repeats the process. After the first lock, it’s the same thing three times, a slow sail through a lake, then more of the same on the Pacific side. So why was this exciting? Was it crowd mentality? Nearly 2,000 people lined up around the edge of the ship waiting with antici------pation for this to start. Was it a sense of history? The nature of seeing something we learned about in history class in person, for real, ourselves? Was it the fact that this was something to do, something mildly exclusive? Not everyone, in fact no one I knew had ever been through the Panama Canal, so although the actual passage through was not exotic, the act of the passage was. Learning about the failed French attempts to create a canal, and then the eventual success of the UNITED States, the more than 20,000 deaths that resulted from its construction , how it was actually constructed, the political machinations and corruptions: these are all interesting and somewhat exciting to me. The actual, boring process of going through the canal was not exciting after we were halfway through the first lock’s machinations……so why did I take over 500 photographs today? Why could I not turn away from the activity, moving from bow to stern to port to starboard, up to the highest deck, down to the lowest? Why the hell was I so excited?
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving
OK, once again I had to get up at 5:30am. This time it was a wake up call from our Hotel on 7th Avenue and 31st Street. A recorded voice yelled into the phone "This is Milton parker from the Carnegie Deli" and encouraged me to wake up and get some real corned beef or pastrami....I don't remember it exactly because it's now 1:00am -- a long day since that recorded wake up call.
It reminded me of my first job after college at Circle in the Square Theatre, where one of my jobs was to arrange for producers' house seats for all the Broadway ahows (not just Circle) anytime milton or his partners needed tickets for themselves, their friends, their families, their good customers. For this, I got a terrific gift certificate from some fabulous place each December (Bergdorf's was one) and, most importantly, when I went to the Carnegie Deli, I was ushered to the front of the always long line, and when seated, I was given a CLOTH NAPKIN, not a paper one like everyone else. Henny Youngman got a cloth napkin at Carnegie, as did all the greats and notables when they ate there. I went into Carnegie about a week ago for some take out...only one of the faces seemed to be one of the old-timers, the rest didn't quite seem the same. Luckily the knish, pickle and pastrami DID seem the same! The take out was for a friend of mine...see http://isothegoldenegg.blogspot.com for the details on that. (Yes I am DD!)
Speaking of old timers -- why did I get up at 5:30 on Thanksgiving morning? Because once again, my partner David and I had to be at Macy*s by 7:00am to join Santa in an executive board room to get ready to be in the parade. We were the elves driving the reindeer on the Santa's sleigh float -- our ninth year! What a trip riding in the stretch limo with Santa and Mrs. Clause, helping them get in the sleigh (A very high, so not always easy situation) and then riding down Central Park West and Broadway to herald square.
It's impossible to relate the feeling as we see the crowds smiling up at us, screaming "Santa" sitting on their balconies and window sills from the extraordinarily huge apartments lining CPW the San Remo, the Majestic, the Dakota anyone?), the kids dressed in their Thanksgiving best jackets and dresses or still in their pajamas (the probably 3-year old in nothing but her panties this morning), the older people already sipping cocktails, the woman cooking who refused to look at us, theose who refused to smile and those who beamed like the children in the next apartment, waving and calling to santa as if they were still 5 or 6 years old; the family with the beautifully taxidermied turkey in their window, the crowds lining the rocks and trees in Central Park, or blocking traffic on Broadway, gathered in office buildings, seemingly everywhere....they say 3 million people watched us today in person and did I hear 100 million on TV?
Pulling the reins on the reindeer, ringing the sleigh bells with the foot pedals, smiling for the cameras. This year we got a lot of time on NBC....could it have been because Al Roker's daughter was a Christmas Tree on the float with us this year? Exhausting, fun, pictures once they get uploaded.
It reminded me of my first job after college at Circle in the Square Theatre, where one of my jobs was to arrange for producers' house seats for all the Broadway ahows (not just Circle) anytime milton or his partners needed tickets for themselves, their friends, their families, their good customers. For this, I got a terrific gift certificate from some fabulous place each December (Bergdorf's was one) and, most importantly, when I went to the Carnegie Deli, I was ushered to the front of the always long line, and when seated, I was given a CLOTH NAPKIN, not a paper one like everyone else. Henny Youngman got a cloth napkin at Carnegie, as did all the greats and notables when they ate there. I went into Carnegie about a week ago for some take out...only one of the faces seemed to be one of the old-timers, the rest didn't quite seem the same. Luckily the knish, pickle and pastrami DID seem the same! The take out was for a friend of mine...see http://isothegoldenegg.blogspot.com for the details on that. (Yes I am DD!)
Speaking of old timers -- why did I get up at 5:30 on Thanksgiving morning? Because once again, my partner David and I had to be at Macy*s by 7:00am to join Santa in an executive board room to get ready to be in the parade. We were the elves driving the reindeer on the Santa's sleigh float -- our ninth year! What a trip riding in the stretch limo with Santa and Mrs. Clause, helping them get in the sleigh (A very high, so not always easy situation) and then riding down Central Park West and Broadway to herald square.
It's impossible to relate the feeling as we see the crowds smiling up at us, screaming "Santa" sitting on their balconies and window sills from the extraordinarily huge apartments lining CPW the San Remo, the Majestic, the Dakota anyone?), the kids dressed in their Thanksgiving best jackets and dresses or still in their pajamas (the probably 3-year old in nothing but her panties this morning), the older people already sipping cocktails, the woman cooking who refused to look at us, theose who refused to smile and those who beamed like the children in the next apartment, waving and calling to santa as if they were still 5 or 6 years old; the family with the beautifully taxidermied turkey in their window, the crowds lining the rocks and trees in Central Park, or blocking traffic on Broadway, gathered in office buildings, seemingly everywhere....they say 3 million people watched us today in person and did I hear 100 million on TV?
Pulling the reins on the reindeer, ringing the sleigh bells with the foot pedals, smiling for the cameras. This year we got a lot of time on NBC....could it have been because Al Roker's daughter was a Christmas Tree on the float with us this year? Exhausting, fun, pictures once they get uploaded.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
When Your Rooster Crows at the Break of Dawn
This title of this is a quote from one of my all time favorite songs -- Dylan's "Don't think Twice" which is sung fabulously by my friend Barb Jungr -- get all of her albums if you don't have them yet (www.barbjungr.com). The reason for the blog title will become clear shortly.
I know I'm not a real farmer....I have two goats, a few chickens (sell the eggs) and 3.6 acres, almost 3 of which are plantable. But I'm a boy from Brooklyn (at my age, some boy!) and am not one to rise with the sun. Neither is Cyrano, our Portuguese Water Dog who will stay asleep on his or our bed long after I've gotten up, showered, dressed and started my day. My preferred alarm-set time is between 8 and 9am, luckily I can usually stay in bed that late. NOT SO THIS MORNING. This morning, the phone rang at about 5:30am that's FIVE-FREAKIN-THIRTY-A-FREAKIN-M. It was the security company that monitors the alarm system at the museum where I work. I live closest, so I'm the first they call. I drag my sorry ass that didn't get into bed until about one the night before into some clothes and stumble in the pitch darkness to haul that sorry ass into the car to drive the 1.2 miles to the museum. Did I mention it's November? Did i meantion HOW DAMNED COLD it was?
Of course, it was not a burglar, merely a fault in the fire alarm, so i deactivated it, reactivated it, and had a brief chat with the friendly Town of Deerpark police officer who got there just before I did. He of course was up, dressed and at work when HE got the call to check things out. We talked local town politics for a few minutes and home I slogged to shrug off my clothes and curl back under the down comforter.
As for the title of this blog: I'm not the only one in near proximity who has roosters. I have five right now -- all beautiful, some nasty, some timid, but all obviously well trained by me. I say this because as I was walking to my car in the 5:40am darkness I could hear from the neighbor's yard the familiar, raucous ERR-er-er-er-ERRRRRR this is the call of the cock. From not too far away came the response: a riotous ERR-er-er-er-ERRRRR. What I noted, and have explained to a few non-fowl-owning neighbors was that none of the cacophony was coming from my barn. My roosters, keep hours like I do and were fast asleep. My roosters are sensible birds, and of a class not to mingle with lesser birds who feel they have to get up before the sun even. Now if only I could get them to kill a fox or two!
I know I'm not a real farmer....I have two goats, a few chickens (sell the eggs) and 3.6 acres, almost 3 of which are plantable. But I'm a boy from Brooklyn (at my age, some boy!) and am not one to rise with the sun. Neither is Cyrano, our Portuguese Water Dog who will stay asleep on his or our bed long after I've gotten up, showered, dressed and started my day. My preferred alarm-set time is between 8 and 9am, luckily I can usually stay in bed that late. NOT SO THIS MORNING. This morning, the phone rang at about 5:30am that's FIVE-FREAKIN-THIRTY-A-FREAKIN-M. It was the security company that monitors the alarm system at the museum where I work. I live closest, so I'm the first they call. I drag my sorry ass that didn't get into bed until about one the night before into some clothes and stumble in the pitch darkness to haul that sorry ass into the car to drive the 1.2 miles to the museum. Did I mention it's November? Did i meantion HOW DAMNED COLD it was?
Of course, it was not a burglar, merely a fault in the fire alarm, so i deactivated it, reactivated it, and had a brief chat with the friendly Town of Deerpark police officer who got there just before I did. He of course was up, dressed and at work when HE got the call to check things out. We talked local town politics for a few minutes and home I slogged to shrug off my clothes and curl back under the down comforter.
As for the title of this blog: I'm not the only one in near proximity who has roosters. I have five right now -- all beautiful, some nasty, some timid, but all obviously well trained by me. I say this because as I was walking to my car in the 5:40am darkness I could hear from the neighbor's yard the familiar, raucous ERR-er-er-er-ERRRRRR this is the call of the cock. From not too far away came the response: a riotous ERR-er-er-er-ERRRRR. What I noted, and have explained to a few non-fowl-owning neighbors was that none of the cacophony was coming from my barn. My roosters, keep hours like I do and were fast asleep. My roosters are sensible birds, and of a class not to mingle with lesser birds who feel they have to get up before the sun even. Now if only I could get them to kill a fox or two!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
weather or not
What a weekend of weather! Driving across the top of the mountain ridge on Friday, one could only see fog and clouds, with the mountains peeking through. White haze everwhere blanketing the valley, which had disappeared below. That evening, fog made nearly invisible everything around. The heavy mist coating each branch and blade of grass. In New York city that night, only 80 miles away: cloudy skies, dry, warmth to the point of hot (for November, certainly).
Yesterday -- so much rain and water in the yard that if they weren't still feathered, we would have had chicken soup! It ruined the day for our finishing the construction of the new storage shed -- now we must wait until next Saturday. The fence gates we were going to build must also wait. Time is running out, as the fences and gates must be finished so the goats can run free while we go away in a few weeks.
Today, when I'm not available to do anything around the house, the air is crisp, the sun is shining -- it's a perfect day! Next job after these is putting upo the new greenhouse, so we can get a jump on next year's growing season....I already have my seeds for organic edible marigolds I'll be growing next year.
Yesterday -- so much rain and water in the yard that if they weren't still feathered, we would have had chicken soup! It ruined the day for our finishing the construction of the new storage shed -- now we must wait until next Saturday. The fence gates we were going to build must also wait. Time is running out, as the fences and gates must be finished so the goats can run free while we go away in a few weeks.
Today, when I'm not available to do anything around the house, the air is crisp, the sun is shining -- it's a perfect day! Next job after these is putting upo the new greenhouse, so we can get a jump on next year's growing season....I already have my seeds for organic edible marigolds I'll be growing next year.
Friday, November 7, 2008
This week
Well, the fence posts are in, waiting to have the rails put up and the gates made. The goats can soon run free, instead of being on a looong leash so they don't wander in the road.
Yma Sumac has died, Gerard Damiano has died. Footnotes to American culture? Perhaps. I wonder about all these people the younger generation has never heard of, and in the case of Yma, probably wouldn't even "get". From all genres of the entertainment world there are these people who have impacted our society in small ways, but how do we explain them? Someone about 20 years younger than I am said to me a few years ago, "I don't watch anything in black and white -- it's boring," when I brought up "The Honeymooners". I had no answer to that...how can one respond to a dismissal of Capra, Wilder, Welles -- Casablanca has no value anymore? All of D.W. Griffith, Chaplin and Keaton should be dumped in the ashcan. It's hard to compare Damiano to Griffith and the other directors, I know, but he did break the mold and his films were as reviled as "Birth of a Nation," though for obviously very different reasons! :-)
Happily there is youtube, so just maybe the digital generation will be able to get a bit of insight into our now "camp" heroes like Yma: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LUSUel_kck&feature=related (one of my favorites of her recordings) and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOgE0b5DzLo&feature=related which is Yma on Letterman Show in 1987 Somethings just are, if they have to be explained to you, it's already too late.
And my college resident advisor has been named Obama's chief of staff... had I stayed in touch I might have been able to be the next White House Chef. (I could bring the goats and chickens to the South lawn).
Yma Sumac has died, Gerard Damiano has died. Footnotes to American culture? Perhaps. I wonder about all these people the younger generation has never heard of, and in the case of Yma, probably wouldn't even "get". From all genres of the entertainment world there are these people who have impacted our society in small ways, but how do we explain them? Someone about 20 years younger than I am said to me a few years ago, "I don't watch anything in black and white -- it's boring," when I brought up "The Honeymooners". I had no answer to that...how can one respond to a dismissal of Capra, Wilder, Welles -- Casablanca has no value anymore? All of D.W. Griffith, Chaplin and Keaton should be dumped in the ashcan. It's hard to compare Damiano to Griffith and the other directors, I know, but he did break the mold and his films were as reviled as "Birth of a Nation," though for obviously very different reasons! :-)
Happily there is youtube, so just maybe the digital generation will be able to get a bit of insight into our now "camp" heroes like Yma: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LUSUel_kck&feature=related (one of my favorites of her recordings) and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOgE0b5DzLo&feature=related which is Yma on Letterman Show in 1987 Somethings just are, if they have to be explained to you, it's already too late.
And my college resident advisor has been named Obama's chief of staff... had I stayed in touch I might have been able to be the next White House Chef. (I could bring the goats and chickens to the South lawn).
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Day Ramblings
What a day! Got to bed at nidnight last night after seeing my good friend Barb Jungr in concert in NYC with my good friends Ellen Kaye, Dani Almany and Peter Yannello...a spectaular show, as always.
This morning, I got up at 4:30 am -- yes, it was very dark, as I walked the dog and fed the goats and chickens by flashlight after a quick shower. THen it was off to the races; the political races. As a poll inspector and Chairman of District 1, Deerpark Town, Orange county NY, I had to be there at 5:30am. (it's now 10:50, so forgive the typos -- it's been a looooooooooooooong day).
Highlights...all the young children coming in, wanting to help mom and dad vote....showing so many firtst-time voters how the machines work.....the adult first-time voters who were finally energized to actually come out and vote, whethere they voted the way I hoped or not...Mrs. JM walking into the polls, her eyes as bright as her dyed crimson hair. Chatting away, signing her name, walking into the voting booth, voting and walking out....Mrs. JM turned 100 in March of this year...our town's oldest voter!...The excitement of opening the machines and reading off the numbers of votes and hoping that the winners in our district for President and Congress would also win everywhere else.
Nature's balance...with the happy news of the election results comes the sad news from Los Angeles...I've learned that Yma Sumac has died. If you have to ask, you are not worthy, but go ahead and google her -- adn see the photos and hear the songs.
This morning, I got up at 4:30 am -- yes, it was very dark, as I walked the dog and fed the goats and chickens by flashlight after a quick shower. THen it was off to the races; the political races. As a poll inspector and Chairman of District 1, Deerpark Town, Orange county NY, I had to be there at 5:30am. (it's now 10:50, so forgive the typos -- it's been a looooooooooooooong day).
Highlights...all the young children coming in, wanting to help mom and dad vote....showing so many firtst-time voters how the machines work.....the adult first-time voters who were finally energized to actually come out and vote, whethere they voted the way I hoped or not...Mrs. JM walking into the polls, her eyes as bright as her dyed crimson hair. Chatting away, signing her name, walking into the voting booth, voting and walking out....Mrs. JM turned 100 in March of this year...our town's oldest voter!...The excitement of opening the machines and reading off the numbers of votes and hoping that the winners in our district for President and Congress would also win everywhere else.
Nature's balance...with the happy news of the election results comes the sad news from Los Angeles...I've learned that Yma Sumac has died. If you have to ask, you are not worthy, but go ahead and google her -- adn see the photos and hear the songs.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
It's a Hard Rain Gonna Fall
I don't have ducks. We did, Jaye and Andre. Jay laid eggs, they were tasty. The ducks must have been tasty too, as a fox got them early one morning, the first night they refused to go into their little duck house. Why? We never figured out. Can ducks have a death wish? But I digress.
It's a pity we don't have ducks, becasue today's weather was fit only for ducks and fish. It rained all day. It rained on my parade. We did have a small parade indoors at our Halloween Fair at work, which would have had a much better turn out had it not been pouring.
One of the great things about living on a few rural acres is that things you can't do in the city, becuase people will see or hear you, you can do up here. Like standing in the middle of the field at night, while the dog is running around sniffing out rabbits, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, foxes (go get em, boy) instead of doing what I brought him out to take care of -- standing in the field, the rain beating down on my uncovered head, splotching on my eyeglass lenses and singing every "rain" song I could think of in a not-too-subdued voice. It's sort of like Julie Andews spinning around on that mountain field singing about the hills being alive. Then the dog runs up and it's time to go in.
It's a pity we don't have ducks, becasue today's weather was fit only for ducks and fish. It rained all day. It rained on my parade. We did have a small parade indoors at our Halloween Fair at work, which would have had a much better turn out had it not been pouring.
One of the great things about living on a few rural acres is that things you can't do in the city, becuase people will see or hear you, you can do up here. Like standing in the middle of the field at night, while the dog is running around sniffing out rabbits, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, foxes (go get em, boy) instead of doing what I brought him out to take care of -- standing in the field, the rain beating down on my uncovered head, splotching on my eyeglass lenses and singing every "rain" song I could think of in a not-too-subdued voice. It's sort of like Julie Andews spinning around on that mountain field singing about the hills being alive. Then the dog runs up and it's time to go in.
Friday, October 24, 2008
The Holidays Are Coming
OK, I've decided there are very few holidays I like. Easter (I don't have to do anything) Passover is great, because I just have to eat a great meal (admittedly after a long service, that in our family we take seriously, but have fun with). Independence Day is great, because I like fireworks! Now, however comes the season of dread...first comes Halloween, costumes, candy, and because of work, a huge event I've been prepping for for the past several days. Christmas and Chanukah are frought with figuring out gifts, sending out cards and far too many obligations. Thanksgiving is cool, if you're reading this, you probably know why, if you don't I'll blog about that later in the season. Then there's Arbor Day...all that schlepping of trees, digging, dirt....oh wait, I live on a farm, I like all that digging and dirt!!!!!!!
Friday, October 17, 2008
Too Tired to Blog
Well, it's been a loooong day! Started out at 8:00am at a breakfast meeting for the Ramapo-Catskill Library Association where I was the keynote speaker. The location was a restaurant on the top of a hill in Bloomingburg in Sullivan county. Looking out into the valley one could see all the way to New Paltz in Ulster. What a sight with the early sun shining down on autumn trees -- oranges, reds, greens, yellows, purples, blues, all blending one into the other. In the middle, a farmhouse, barn and silo surrounded by golf course green and manicured fields -- or so it seemed from the distance. Of course, being somewhere a half hour from home by eight, means up at six to throw goat and chicken feed where it must go, sprinkle some turtle food in the large one's tank, walk the dog, check the cats' bowls and shower and fall into some semi-respectable clothes.
I gave my talk on the history of movie making in the Neversink Valley, and I guess it went well because many people came up afterwards and I've already been booked to present it at the Monticello Library on January 14th. Me, performing in the Catskills, makes me feel like Jerry Lewis at Brown's all those years. I have to remember not to shout "HEYYYYYYY LAAAAAADEEEEEE" in the middle of my prepared notes.
Then off to work at the museum, where it was one thing after another (isn't it always), home for a quick bite and check on the animals, including the bees, and back to work for one of our benefit concerts....a little folk, a little blues, a little Neil Young, a good time was had by all. Miro Ludvik, who organizes these always puts on a good show (Find him on myspace).
Now home, too exhausted to move, as I didn't get enough sleep thanks to Macavity the monster of depravity, who snuck out just as I was about to go to bed last night and hid under the forsythias every time I tried to get him back in -- for an hour! I still can't decide if I should cut down the shrubs or make cat sausages this weekend!!!!!!!
Well, I know this isn't fascinating, but my nephew complains I don't blog often enough, so this one's for him -- I need to now check every pollster's website in the country to see what's happening in the electoral colleges since I last looked yesterday. Here's to Joe the plumber, who is really named Samuel, isn't a licensed polumber, and why should he care if Obama will rais ehis taxes? We learned he doesn't pay his taxes anyway!!!!!!!!
I gave my talk on the history of movie making in the Neversink Valley, and I guess it went well because many people came up afterwards and I've already been booked to present it at the Monticello Library on January 14th. Me, performing in the Catskills, makes me feel like Jerry Lewis at Brown's all those years. I have to remember not to shout "HEYYYYYYY LAAAAAADEEEEEE" in the middle of my prepared notes.
Then off to work at the museum, where it was one thing after another (isn't it always), home for a quick bite and check on the animals, including the bees, and back to work for one of our benefit concerts....a little folk, a little blues, a little Neil Young, a good time was had by all. Miro Ludvik, who organizes these always puts on a good show (Find him on myspace).
Now home, too exhausted to move, as I didn't get enough sleep thanks to Macavity the monster of depravity, who snuck out just as I was about to go to bed last night and hid under the forsythias every time I tried to get him back in -- for an hour! I still can't decide if I should cut down the shrubs or make cat sausages this weekend!!!!!!!
Well, I know this isn't fascinating, but my nephew complains I don't blog often enough, so this one's for him -- I need to now check every pollster's website in the country to see what's happening in the electoral colleges since I last looked yesterday. Here's to Joe the plumber, who is really named Samuel, isn't a licensed polumber, and why should he care if Obama will rais ehis taxes? We learned he doesn't pay his taxes anyway!!!!!!!!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Country Matters
It's an interesting perspective, not living in a major city like New York, Chicago or Los Angeles. Things in the "country" are just different. There is a certain quality of life that doesn't compare.
My friends keith adn Lisa own a restaurant, mostly Italian food. They've got a little bit of ;land surrounding it, and today held an Oktoberfest party. There were games for the kids, pick-your-own-pumpkins, a pumkin painting contest live band, a small truck with various Oktoberfest beers on tap, wine and food. Oh, the food! Sauerkraut, red cabbage, knockwurst, bratwurts and a pork loin rouladen that was out of this world and potato pancakes and potato salad. A few desserts including fried-to-order then stuffed with homemade lingonberry-raspberry preserves Berliners (as in Ich bin ein Berliner). A full plate of food was only $10.00. At dusk, everyone could walk or drive over to the town park, where a free haunted hayride was available to all who wanted to partake.
What struck me the most about this event, was the groups of neighbors, friends and acquaintances standing around in groups and chatting as would happen anywhere, a NYC cocktail party, Hollywood Oscar party, etc. But, folkks this is in exurban New York, 80 miles WNW of the city. Most lawns are dotted with McCain posters, many card have "Life Member of the NRA" stickers.....this is one of those places where "Liberal" is a four-letter word.
I am part of this community, I've worked at Keith and Lisa's restaurant off and on for nine years. Most of these people know me, I've ccoked and served a lot of food to them. Some also know me from my job at the museum. They know who I've been Bar Mitzvahed, can guess my political beliefs from my "Impeach Cheney First" and Obama bumper stickers, and most have met my partner of 14 years, David.
As I walked around his festival this afternoon, there wasn't a single small conversation group where someone didn't immediately grab my hand, or hug me, greet me with warm smiles and ask, as if truly interested how I was and what was happening in my life. And I'm talking about he men as well as the women -- well, women of all ages, and the men are the guys mostly in their 20's to early 40's. Yes hugging m the fag, not afraid that it might rub off on them or something.
Now, I'm not saying there's no homophobia or anti-semitism around here, but you'll find that anywhere. But most of these folks, the ones the city folk make fun of are decent, kind, caring individuals, who are quick to offer a hand when you need it, including some hard labor jobs. In NYC this happened during blackouts, in times of crises, but up here, there is a sense of community, and if you are willing to not act as if you know better because you are from "The City" then you are warmly welcomed and treated as the natives.
That's why I live here....oh adn the colors of the leaves through all of my windows is extraordinary now -- you city dwellers can't say that!!!!!!!
My friends keith adn Lisa own a restaurant, mostly Italian food. They've got a little bit of ;land surrounding it, and today held an Oktoberfest party. There were games for the kids, pick-your-own-pumpkins, a pumkin painting contest live band, a small truck with various Oktoberfest beers on tap, wine and food. Oh, the food! Sauerkraut, red cabbage, knockwurst, bratwurts and a pork loin rouladen that was out of this world and potato pancakes and potato salad. A few desserts including fried-to-order then stuffed with homemade lingonberry-raspberry preserves Berliners (as in Ich bin ein Berliner). A full plate of food was only $10.00. At dusk, everyone could walk or drive over to the town park, where a free haunted hayride was available to all who wanted to partake.
What struck me the most about this event, was the groups of neighbors, friends and acquaintances standing around in groups and chatting as would happen anywhere, a NYC cocktail party, Hollywood Oscar party, etc. But, folkks this is in exurban New York, 80 miles WNW of the city. Most lawns are dotted with McCain posters, many card have "Life Member of the NRA" stickers.....this is one of those places where "Liberal" is a four-letter word.
I am part of this community, I've worked at Keith and Lisa's restaurant off and on for nine years. Most of these people know me, I've ccoked and served a lot of food to them. Some also know me from my job at the museum. They know who I've been Bar Mitzvahed, can guess my political beliefs from my "Impeach Cheney First" and Obama bumper stickers, and most have met my partner of 14 years, David.
As I walked around his festival this afternoon, there wasn't a single small conversation group where someone didn't immediately grab my hand, or hug me, greet me with warm smiles and ask, as if truly interested how I was and what was happening in my life. And I'm talking about he men as well as the women -- well, women of all ages, and the men are the guys mostly in their 20's to early 40's. Yes hugging m the fag, not afraid that it might rub off on them or something.
Now, I'm not saying there's no homophobia or anti-semitism around here, but you'll find that anywhere. But most of these folks, the ones the city folk make fun of are decent, kind, caring individuals, who are quick to offer a hand when you need it, including some hard labor jobs. In NYC this happened during blackouts, in times of crises, but up here, there is a sense of community, and if you are willing to not act as if you know better because you are from "The City" then you are warmly welcomed and treated as the natives.
That's why I live here....oh adn the colors of the leaves through all of my windows is extraordinary now -- you city dwellers can't say that!!!!!!!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
There's Honey in the Honeycomb
SOOOOOOO...here's what happens in Nature: when bees feel that their hive is threatened, they sting, which supposedly gets the attacker to leave them alone. It works.
A beautiful sunny afternoon...I open one hive and see: thousands of bees, lots of honey, rich thick comb, a few larvae. No sign of the Queen, maybe I missed her, no eggs, but as this is my first year with bees, I'm not sure if there should be any in the fall. The comb is rich golden, amber, drops of honey glistening in the sun.
....I close up the hive and go to the second one... lots of rich honey, the bees seem a bit more agitated than the first hive, I move slowly, they calm down. Top box, no problem, middle box, no problem...just the weight of moving the honey-filled frames. Bottom box is "swarming" (quotes because they aren't literally swarming) with bees on top and throughout. I remove the first frame, start to look at the next, when a bee lands on my right ring finger and another on my right forearm. BAM, the one on my finger stings me (she's dead) the one on my arm, which is so huge, I fear it's the queen starts dancing and I scrape it off, scratching my arm in the process. As it turns red and my finger starts to swell up I decide not to finish going through the rest of the box. UGH. I put everything back together, get the dog and go back inside, nursing my wounds until the debate comes on.
A beautiful sunny afternoon...I open one hive and see: thousands of bees, lots of honey, rich thick comb, a few larvae. No sign of the Queen, maybe I missed her, no eggs, but as this is my first year with bees, I'm not sure if there should be any in the fall. The comb is rich golden, amber, drops of honey glistening in the sun.
....I close up the hive and go to the second one... lots of rich honey, the bees seem a bit more agitated than the first hive, I move slowly, they calm down. Top box, no problem, middle box, no problem...just the weight of moving the honey-filled frames. Bottom box is "swarming" (quotes because they aren't literally swarming) with bees on top and throughout. I remove the first frame, start to look at the next, when a bee lands on my right ring finger and another on my right forearm. BAM, the one on my finger stings me (she's dead) the one on my arm, which is so huge, I fear it's the queen starts dancing and I scrape it off, scratching my arm in the process. As it turns red and my finger starts to swell up I decide not to finish going through the rest of the box. UGH. I put everything back together, get the dog and go back inside, nursing my wounds until the debate comes on.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
MOVIES MOVIES MOVIES
So while the rest of the world is worried about Sarah palin and Wall Street Bailouts, I've had my head in boxes and boxes of reels of film --- it must be miles of plastic!! Today I picked up over 350 films, almost all silents, as the beginnnings of the film library of the Neversink Valley Area Museum Institute for Early Film Studies. there are some amazing classics, fun comedies, from DW Griffith in 1908 to the early 1930's. I can't wait to set up some projectors and look at these. The non-period pictures are great insights to styles and fashions of the day, all of them them reflect the morals of the period they were filmed in. This is an amazing treasure trove and I feel priviledged to be able to be their keeper for a while. I now must look for opportunities to show them, and more importantly, raise the money for the proper temperature and humidity controlling equipment and monitors. I know how I'm spending the grey days of winter this year!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
You can't Burn This After Reading This
OK, so if you don't know, I LOVE movies. Tonight I saw "Burn After Reading" and I jsut want to say I adore Fran McDormand. had the pleasure of working with her around1983 at Circle In the Square, when they did "Awake and Sing" she was wexcellent in the play and a really sweet person. She is every bit as good in this as Fargo, in fact I think all of the actors are terrific, the script is clever and funny, and there are little details in the direction that keep it interesting throughout.
Speaking of Movies...I am now wortking on figuring out what horror films to show October 25th at the museum I workl out...they must be old, but I want to avoid the obvious, "Caligari" and "Nosferatu", so I am poring through lists.....there are worse ways to earn a living!
Speaking of Movies...I am now wortking on figuring out what horror films to show October 25th at the museum I workl out...they must be old, but I want to avoid the obvious, "Caligari" and "Nosferatu", so I am poring through lists.....there are worse ways to earn a living!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Virginity Lost
Well, I guess this is it, i'm taking the plunge and losing my virginity...My first blog post! Been thinking about doing this for a while, and finally decided to take the plunge. I assume everyone reading this first post knows me, since who else will know about it but friends and family, but, just in case...
Born in brooklyn, moved to lower up state NY about 9 years ago to a small farm with goats, chickens, dog and cats -- more about them later. I'm a trained chef, former restaurant owner, current museum professional, formerly in entertaiment biz, but not a performer. Politically, Ilean left, and make no apologies for that. Share my old farmhouse (circa mid 1700's - 1810) with afiresaid animals and partner david.
Born in brooklyn, moved to lower up state NY about 9 years ago to a small farm with goats, chickens, dog and cats -- more about them later. I'm a trained chef, former restaurant owner, current museum professional, formerly in entertaiment biz, but not a performer. Politically, Ilean left, and make no apologies for that. Share my old farmhouse (circa mid 1700's - 1810) with afiresaid animals and partner david.
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