Had breakfast with one of my oldest friends (she who rescued a hawk, in a blazing act of bravery, which I think the hawk recognized and appreciated). We now live pretty near each other, which is wild, after me living away for so many decades. So we met up at a local breakfast place and want to make it a regular thing. We talked about our families, our lives, our jobs, politics, and mascara. She said, “I brought you a gift.” I was shocked. It’s not my birthday. She put it in my hand. A little crystal middle finger upraised. I put it on my windowsill. Facing out. Facing to the world. She knows me so well.
The weather suddenly got really wet and then really warm and in response the flowers and the trees exploded overnight. There’s this beautiful patch of land – privately owned – called the “azalea garden”. It’s behind a home, it’s existed longer than I am alive, and this one family basically runs this place. It’s all azaleas and rhododendrons and spruces, and it’s not just a garden, it’s got to be a couple of acres. There are Adirondack chairs in tiny glades, and grassy lanes, flowers everywhere. This place is literally walking distance from where I grew up but I never went. My mother and I spent a beautiful morning there. It’s free. There are four parking spots behind the house. They take donations. That’s it. There was a couple with a baby there – we ran into them once – but other than that we were alone. We took pictures, we talked about the flowers, we stood and looked around us, soaking it in. We will make this a regular thing, we both enjoyed it so much.
The kids went outside to dye their Easter eggs, Cashel included, although he’s not a kid anymore. When I started this blog I was still babysitting him! What on EARTH. Cousins are a good thing. I should know. I have about 50 of them and we’re all on an extremely active group chat, which can get overwhelming during Red Sox season.
More hotel life. Reading one of the quintessential “hotel” books while being in an actual hotel is a little on the nose. Hopefully I won’t meet some gigolo who takes an interest in me. What am I SAYING. Hopefully I WILL. I’ll be starting May in New York hotels as well, because two dear friends of mine are getting married at City Hall and they asked me to be their witness. Truly honored!
Frankie has gained five pounds – five! – since I got him! Poor little dude was skin and bones because of his tough life on the streets. He’s all plump and happy now, but now I have to make sure he doesn’t get any plumper. We’ve done our job fattening him up, but the main thing is he is totally chill about food now. I look back on his absolute PANIC about food when I first got him – it was so sad! He had just eaten and he would wander around yowling and clawing at the pantry door – and I am amazed at the transformation. He sleeps me with now too. The only thing driving him insane now is the birdsong. I have the windows open now that it’s warmer, and my apartment is basically a tree house, since it’s in the roof of this house. Frankie is always on high alert because those birds are LOUD.
Had a great time discussing Network with programmer Ian LoCascio, after the film’s screening at Jacob Burns. The subscriber base at Jacob Burns is excellent: they come OUT to stuff, they’re always engaged, they are into it. It’s my favorite kind of audience, because more often than not about 70% of the audience hasn’t seen whatever film it is. That’s what you want!
The 92nd Street Y hosted an event with the creators of Stranger Things, which I have been binging with my niece Lucy (off an on) for about a year. We do it when we can. She is DEEP into it, she basically has grown up with these characters, and it’s been a really fun aunt-niece thing to do. It’s her birthday in May so I bought us tickets for the online version (basically to be uploaded following the live event at the Paris Theater). I kept it a secret and told her to save 8:30 on Monday for this surprise thing. When I told her what it was, you could have heard her screams two counties over. So we sat on her bed waiting for the start time. She clustered her Max squishmallow and Funko Pop figurines on the laptop, as though they were ready to watch as well. We were cracking up. And then … the whole thing was a bust. The video never launched. We waited! It was so sad! We salvaged the night by picking up where we left off and watched two episodes of Season 3.
Speaking of the 92nd Street Y: The event at the 92nd Street Y celebrating Liberties’ 5-year anniversary was wonderful. I met so many people I’ve only connected with online, and then also met a bunch of new people at the after-party, held at a restaurant across the street. It was great to see Jim Wolcott, whom I haven’t seen since before the pandemic. He, my friend Farran and I used to meet up, on average, once or twice a year at the Algonquin. I’ve missed doing that. So it was really cool to be on a panel with him and re-connect. Hearing American hero David Shipley – who moderated the panel – read an excerpt from one of my pieces was quite a trip! At the party afterwards, I met so many interesting people! I feel like I tend towards shyness in public situations – and I don’t socialize that much anymore – but I spent the entire party talking to really interesting people, exchanging emails and Insta handles, drinking wine (Okay, one glass, but that’s livin’ it UP for me) and staying out hours past my bedtime. It’s not every party where a guy you’ve literally just met throws in a reference to “Christopher Hitchens’ piece on blow jobs” – and you get to nod enthusiastically, like “oh God yeah, I know that piece!” My people! We just need to FIND our people. They’re out there! My sister and Cashel came to the event, which was really special.
Reading
Ashes and Diamonds, by Jerzy Andrzejewski
This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen, short story collection (based on his experiences in Auschwitz) by Tadeusz Borowski
The Hard Crowd, collection of essays by Rachel Kushner
To Write as If Already Dead, Kate Zambreno
Seems like you had a good month, and I am LIVING for Frankie updates. Seeing him relax more and more is delightful. I wanna pet his belly!!
(Also, what do you mean Cashel is not a kid, STOP IT.)
He is so almost embarrassingly relaxed – I mean, I’m not embarrassed but still – he just sprawls across my lap in all kinds of crazy shapes, arching his back and spreading out his belly. it’s too much!!
He has a little bald patch on his belly – over-grooming, maybe due to anxiety. He got a little shot for it – anti-inflammatory – and he seems to be leaving it alone but I have to keep an eye on it. If you can’t stop yourself Frankie we’re going to have to bust out the Cone of Shame and I think we’d both like to avoid that!
and yes Cashel is a man! I can’t believe it! very proud of him.