It’s pouring rain here. I mean – POURING. I was caught out in it, and now the smell of my own scarf (er – the “anaconda”) is a bit nauseating. We’re talking “wet wool”. The new scent brought out by Yankee Candle.
Anyway, it’s madness on the streets here right now. Last-minute shopping – last-minute racing about – I’m a part of it. I had two more things I needed to buy at the open-air market. (See what I mean? “OPEN-AIR.” Open air + monsoon = soaked anaconda.)
There are so many people out, so many crowds EVERYWHERE – you cannot walk down the sidewalk without starting, stopping, weaving, halting, adjusting your speed, or downright stopping. I went to Penn Station to get my tickets for tomorrow morning and said a little prayer: “Thank GOD I am not traveling tonight.” There were so many people in that train station that I almost had an anxiety attack trying to take them all in. Also, add to it the general STRESS of the holidays … and you get utter shrieking mania.
Randomly, here are some of the people I saw and interacted with over the last couple of manic hours:
— some guy who sold me a silk and velvet scarf, who was very charming, very gregarious, blah blah … told me I looked just like his acting teacher who was named “Sheila” – and then said to me, “Do you know who I am?” Like … I should know who he is. Yawn. I hate that kind of shit, even though I’m an actor, too. I said, “Dude, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” But still. I bartered with him for the gorgeous scarf, he gave me a good price, and for that I am grateful.
— a group of screaming angry Nation of Islam guys, standing where they always stand, at the corner of 34th and 7th – right opposite Macy’s, right by the subway stop. They’re totally annoying and offensive, really homophobic, really racist – and they attract huge curious crowds. There’s always one pissed-off white person who decides to challenge them (I swear to God – ALWAYS) … I’m just guessing but I would bet that the white-challenger of the Nation of Islam guys is probably a tourist, because New Yorkers are so used to these bozos we barely see them anymore. I stroll by them on a daily basis. Thinking my own thoughts, on my way somewhere, yadda yadda, while apocalyptic screams of “AND GOD WILL KILL ALL THE HO-MO-SEXUALS …” ring in my ears. But someone from out of town might be SHOCKED at what these guys are screaming. Even though they’re inflammatory and annoying, I find them entertaining in a weird way. There’s always one guy screaming, you know – gay people are going to hell, and black people are better than white people, and God will punish the white man, and whatever … and then there is his “assistant” who stands there with the Bible. The yelling guy will go on and on and on – and then command the assistant: “READ.” The assistant reads a Bible verse. When he is done, the yelling guy launches into his next diatribe. You know … the Bible is only there to back up their own very narrow beliefs. The Nation of Islam guys are everywhere – it’s not just one group of people – but it’s always the same scenario. My favorite part? The loud command: “READ”. I don’t know why I find that so entertaining, but I do.
— a grizzled old black man in a wheelchair, calling out, “UMBRELLAS, UMBRELLAS, 2 dollahs, 3 dollahs … UMBRELLAS, UMBRELLAS…” It was a manual wheelchair, very rickety, precarious. The rain poured down around him.
— a laughing couple, both Chinese, RACING across 14th Street, being pounded by the rain, trying to outrun it. I was across the street, but I could hear their guffaws of laughter, their shrieks. But then a cab careened by, sending up a cascade of water which COMPLETELY drenched them … much worse than the rain ever could … and then, the two of them started laughing even harder, they were HOWLING. I kind of loved them both a little bit.
— I saw a very very serious-faced unattractive woman, browsing at one of the stores in the market. She had an enormous mole sticking out of her forehead, and a choppy haircut. The store had a display of hilarious finger puppets/refrigerator magnets. You could buy a finger puppet of VERDI. You could buy a finger puppet of JOHN LOCKE. heh heh heh Anyway, this woman who looked like she had never smiled in her life, frumpy hair, sad serious eyes, downward-turned mouth, had about 6 of these finger puppets in her hand, waiting in line for the register. I glanced at them, dying to see which ones she had chosen. She had finger puppets of:
Zora Neale Hurston
Beethoven
Benjamin Franklin
Virginia Woolf
Dorothy Parker
Albert Einstein
I love that. I just LOVE THAT. A finger puppet of Zora Neale Hurston? You should have seen it too. It was classic.
— a little boy hiding under the awning from the rain at the open-air market. He was in a massive parka, so that his arms stuck out to his sides, and he couldn’t move. (I LOVE THAT.) He was about 3. He had little red circles on both cheeks – a blush from the cold. He looked so delicious. So innocent. I was hiding under the awning across the way. He kept trying to stick his wee hand out from beneath, so he could feel the rain. Only he had a hard time moving his arms in any way, shape, or form, because of the parka. His mother was behind him, doing frenzied last-minute shopping, getting out the credit card, juggling 5 bags, and umbrellas, and a stroller … but there he was, a gaping cute little face, the rosy dots on the cheeks … trying to feel the rain with his pudgy little hand
The hodge-podge of New York. The brief glimpses into other worlds. The side by side jostle of humanity. At times it’s relentless. Other times it’s kind of achingly beautiful, even the ugly parts of it.
I wish all my readers the happiest and warmest of holidays. Best to you all.
Even this Scrooge was smiling by the end of that post, Sheila.
Happiness and warmth,
Have a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year.
Okay gonna show my ignorance: Who is Zora Neale Hurston? And for that matter, how many people could pick out Dorothy Parker and Virginia Woolf in a “after-life line-up”?
(To really show my lack of culture, I think the only “picture” I’ve seen of Dorothy Parker in an Al Hirschfeld caricature)
JFH:
Zora Neale Hurston was an African-American writer in the early to mid years of the 20th century – who still dominates any conversation you want to have about black literature. She’s tremendous. Her book Their Eyes Were Watching God – published in the 30s – is considered a classic. I also think it has, pretty much, one of the greatest titles of any book ANYwhere.
She was one of the first to collect anthropological information about different black cultures. There are entire SCHOOLS OF THOUGHT which have been incorporated into our higher education – but they are all based on her ground-breaking work.
The finger puppet was made of brown felt, she wore a big turban, and had on a long string of beads.
Virginia Woolf was a pale finger-puppet, she was clutching a pen, and she wore a dowdy flowered dress.
Dorothy Parker had on a little felt hat – like a 1920s kind of hat … and chunky black shoes. But SHE WAS A FINGER PUPPET.
They had a James Joyce one. I was tempted to get it.
JFH- Where did you see the Hershfeld pic of Dorothy Parker? My uncle wrote a book (back in the 70’s I think), titled The Algonquin Wits and the inside covers were illustrated with carictures by Hershfeld!!
I’m actually reading Zora Neale Hurston’s book on voodoo at the moment. You know, just catching up on my voodoo/santeria reading in time for the holidays.
Happy Christmas, Sheila.
Wouldn’t the Nation of Islam guys be reading from the Koran? Or do they use the Bible instead to appear more “mainstream”?
I go to Penn State University and your bit on the Nation of Islam lads on 34th and 7th (who I’ve seen, humorously enough) reminded me of a preacher who screams blatantly bigoted things on campus, day in and day out. He speaks from the same spot, in front of the Willard Building. He will preach no matter how many people are there… 0 to infinity. In rain or in snow.
His rantings would fit in very well with the Nation of Islam shite.
Ahhh the Willard Preacher.
A note on the Willard Preacher:
On “National Coming Out Day”, he had a counter event: “National Going To Hell Day”.
Nicely done. Almost makes me wish I lived in NYC, or at least makes me nostalgic for a place I’ve visted but never lived.
Anyhoo, have a Merry Christmas yo.
“National Going to Hell Day.”
hahahaha
I know it’s offensive, but it’s also so loony – I just can’t take it seriously!
Michael –
Hm. I recognize some of the verses – so I assumed it was the Bible. They are, most definitely, followers of Farrakhan however … so I’m not sure whaddup with that.
Dan –
“She had a nostalgia for a life she had never lived.” – Nancy Lemann, one of my favorite fiction writers. I love that sentiment – I so get what she means. It’s pretty much just what you are saying, eh??
If you ever come to New York and we get together, Dan, we have to go visit the Nation of Islam guys, mmkay?
I loved these vignettes. The “Do you know who I am?” guy, the laughing Chinese couple getting soaked, the little boy stuffed into his parka trying to reach out and touch the rain… The average person, even if noticing these scenes would have, I’m sure, discarded them in pursuit of more “important” things, and quickly forgotten that these incidents ever happened. But, Sheila, you are definitely not average. (And I say that as a good thing.)
Merry Christmas, girl.
Merry Christmas, Sheila. You are a magical woman in a magical city.
I thought the nutjobs preaching outside Macy’s were the Black Israelites?
I wish all of the brilliant minds within this commentary section the happiest of holidays. You all have been a constant in amusing this workaholic somewhere in the Baltimore/DC area, and I thank you all very, very much.
We might consider the Freebie list the holiday special.
May all of you have fun, be happy, and enjoy your presents. As Santa hasn’t quite arrived yet, I’m off to the Grocery store to get a pile of food for the Christmas breakfast, and to wander about the aisles of Safeway with a mostly empty cart to check out the single moms. What can I say, I’ve finished gift shopping early, and I’m tired of watching soaps :)
Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it, and a Happy Kwanzaa to you, Sheila!! ;) xoxo
“…I’m off to the Grocery store to get a pile of food for the Christmas breakfast, and to wander about the aisles of Safeway with a mostly empty cart to check out the single moms.”
Not, perchance, the fabled DC “social Safeway”?!
Social Safeway, you say?
Regrettably, no.
I have heard of such a place. I am actually nowhere near there. I work near DC, but I live north of Baltimore. Most of the locals around here think my commute is mere insanity. It’s only a hour and 10 minutes’ drive.
Referring to your original point however most foodstores are actually meat markets around here. It’s the only place to go to in this ancient-principled town after the clubs close around 2. You head out to the counties, and either hit the Diners, or pass through the 24-hour Supermarkets to grab some odds and ends for breakfast before you take your date home and do the deed you just did in the parking lot outside the club.
…it’s amusing, really. you can kind of see what happened ‘after the club’ and silently judge what will happen in the weeks ahead by looking in their shopping carts.
1. Condoms, bottled water, nutri-grain breakfast bars, and a package of canadian bacon means ‘She’s just staying the night’.
2. loaf of bread, eggs, juice, a package of sausages and a box of cereal either means ‘third date’ or ‘I hope she stays the weekend’.
3. Bathroom cleaner, aluminum foil, 8-pack of lightbulbs and a copy of Maxim means ‘I’m married. I gotta get this shit outta the way before football tomorrow.’
*Sigh* Great moments.
Happy holidays.
Merry Christmas Sheila.
That Nation of Islam guy commanding “READ” reminds me of the scene in The Life of Brian when the emperor orders “Thwow him to the fwoor.”
Reminded me of Reverend Jed.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Sheila.
Are you now thinking your tidal wave dream had anything to do with… tidal waves?
Anne –
In a word – yes. I feel – weirdly – a little bit bad about having that dream now. I assumed it had to do with my own psyche, my own turmoil whatever … and now all of these people have lost their lives from tidal waves “taking over” one whole region. Just like I dreamt.
You can bet a bunch of my friends have called me, freaking out on my dream. “Dude … did you hear about the horrible wave?”
AWFUL.
Yeah, it’s weird. Ever seen the Australian film The Last Wave?
Anne – I haven’t. It sounds horrifying. Any good?
It’s about people who have dreams and visions of a tidal wave.