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  These two are fab. Saw them at the farmers market yesterday. May go back today maybe price them but I kinda have a feeling that it would be   like buying a black lawn jockey. Not sure.  What think? I like this new early morning me. The time is different, the look and sound and something else is different, too. Its seven something and I am on the roof with lots of plants and some buzzing flies and its cool and quiet and timid cloudzee and I just read about John L from out at the beach twenty five years ago - a coke boy Mr Fixit who tended to “any day now”   his way thru his always summer days months. But he   had that sexy Irish twinkle and playfulness that made people forgive him ... no big whoop. His obit claims he was loved by many - big family, more kids that I knew about … o he was a devil boy who almost got me one rainy night.   And the other day in the Dayton mag … John Powers, smart - loved when he wore his studious glasses. He had   a peacefu...
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O

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  O what to say see hear touch feel on this day three years hence O what to remember, overlook, anticipate, regret O what to appreciate, disdain, refrain, complain O what to navigate, congregate, celebrate Still Again   O to be not anyone gone Not this time or place or space Here here here Three years hence   One Two Three   Yipee Yipee Yipee my first blog entry 7/3/22 A big roly poly grandpa yanks his very young grandson down a path in Washington Square Park. The kid is like a small, bright scarf waving in the breeze just behind him. As he continues to be pulled along,the kid keeps trying to lick the dripping cone. It never reaches his mouth and he never stops smiling and never tells his abuelo to slow the f down.     
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I was very fascinated by my friend Paul’s grand daughter Violet. She is twelve and will be a completely different person a year from now. She still has that child mind and agile, restless body - running round with her younger brother like an energy full pretty robin - ready for anything that comes her way. I hope she keeps more of all that than I suspect she will. The Village is so beautiful at eight in the morning - all the Mexican workers looking not yet tired and young parents walking their kids somewhere. I have such a new feeling about things. My circadian rhythm is different and I love being out early before it gets hot. I notice the coursing of life in the veins to paraphrase Mr. Paul Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters Simon of Queens. I think   it’s gonna be a good day even though I have to get blood drawn.
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Metropolitan Life submission

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  After returning from a month at the beach during our recent heatwave, I exit the subway at my stop. I tell myself   I can manage my duffle on wheels and two shopping bags. I’ve done it for decades.   Climbing the stairs,   I drop the duffel on the landing and lug the two   bags up to the street. I am about to go back for the rest of my gear when a guy hollers   “this yours?” I say yes. He picks up my duffle and says “I got you. But hey, you even older than me. You shouldn’t be doing like this. Especially in this weather.” He plops my bag down next to me and I thank him as he walks across Seventh Avenue slowly shaking his head in disbelief.
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Monday the 30th -  Many years ago my friend Leslie gave me a little needle point picture - if friends were flowers, I’d pick you .   She once had a boyfriend who she deemed  In My Country . He was from Moldova or Estonia. We called him that because that’s how he began many  of his sentences. One hot stifling summer night in the East Village shit got real.  A car alarm went on for hours. In My Country finally ran outside with a baseball bat and recycled the car before recycling was a thing.   I think of him and Leslie and others on this bright, quiet morning.   O, I almost forgot. Happy Pride. 
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When I began this blog, it’s coming on three years now, round July 4th - I promised my readers I would curtail my dream sharing to once   a year. This one is a doozy.  I have worked and played with my good friend Bob for over   a over half century now. He was the only staff director at 13. We worked on hunddreds of projects together.  Hit the lights.   It’s a parody of West Side Story and - more exactly - The   Dance at the Gym … where Tony and Maria first meet.   Everyone freezes, the room blurs then vanishes.  They spot each other and do their little dance and click   their fingers quietly number   … da da da da da … da da da … da da da … da da da da da. Click click. They turn in circles and know - at the speed of light - that they will be with each other from now - straight on through to the other never stopping side side. There is a girl - my sister Jessie   and I called her  The Ugly Girl in the Gym … who looked lik...
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