You may be wondering who I am. After all, it’s been a while since I’ve last posted. I assure you, at one time, you volunteered to receive my posts, which I sincerely appreciate. Perhaps it’s time to reintroduce myself.
That look? The Husband loves to take pictures of me taking pictures. I finally caught him at it. It’s also a look I seem to give a lot these days.
Back in 2013, I published Folsom’s 93: The Lives and Crimes of Folsom Prison’s Executed Men; ten years later, I’m working on an extensive rewrite with a new press. My editor politely, but firmly encouraged me to start using Substack, so now I am politely (sans pressure) letting you all know where you can find my posts these days. It’s free to follow along and all of my posts are free to read; check outHow I got here, which provides a more extensive update on what’s been happening.
About two months before my last post in May of 2020, I had completed a first draft of a young adult novel but the uncertainty of those early months of covid zapped my creativity. A month after my last post, I went back to school and 22 months later, earned my degree in criminal justice, a topic I’ve been studying for about fifteen years. I guess I was ready to make it official. (And you know, covid, with all of its well, now what should I do? glory.)
I’m also back in Colorado after a couple of years in NYC and it feels pretty darn good. The “kid” is now the Twenty-Five-Year-Old and The Husband is still The Husband–the ageless wonder (albeit new shoulders and knees).
The first of many Guinnesses during an epic Ireland & Northern Ireland trip in the spring.
Anyway, if you’d like to continue to get reacquainted, read about criminal justice issues (past and present), and stay posted on the rewrite of Folsom’s, head over to mySubstack–I’d love to see you there. As always, thanks for the support over the years.
Oh, and this is Frida, currently curled up with her hippo.
When these silicone loaf pans came out of the package, The Husband truly believed them to be bedside vomit trays. You know when a dog sees or hears something strange and their head tilts? Now picture a grown human man–sans floppy ears–doing that. Albeit, these are a little odd. I had ordered them over a month ago when we were still using Amazon (we’ve since shifted our bucks elsewhere) and I wanted them fast (we had just watched Bread Week on The Great British Bake Show) and were jonesing for home-baked bread. By this time, the rest of the quarantine bakers (who had already bought up all the yeast in America) had just cleaned Amazon out of loaf pans, but I was willing to settle in order to get baking quickly.
I didn’t know they were going to take so long to receive. And be so ugly. Plus, they’re bigger than I anticipated (9×4). I’m not always good about checking measurements before I buy. (I still have 95 extra die if anyone has a hankering for Yahtzee.) These trays came with measuring spoons that look to have come from a child’s play kitchen, or the baby aisle at Target, casting further doubt unto the intended purpose of this “bakeware.”
One last detail and you’ll be caught up on the backstory of these double-duty household trays: they were free. Two days before they arrived, Amazon deemed them lost at sea and issued me a refund (I’ll inform them as soon as I have a free moment–you know, things are super busy right now).
So, I need some inspiration, dear loyal readers. My baking dreams have waned since that first Bread Week but I’m not yet ready to relegate these versatile trays to under the bathroom sink or nightstand. Can you send me a yeast-free recipe? Sweet, savory, and oh by the way, veggie (veganizable, if possible). I just lost you all, didn’t I? Look, I’ve been veganizing stuff for ten years, so I’ve got confidence in my faux-egg skills.
The Great Be-gan Challenge. Get it? Baking . . . vegan . . . sorry, The Great Quarantine Delirium has began. See? I did it again. Ugh, sorry.
A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.
ZABAR’S: This 86-year-old specialty grocery store, located at 80th St. and Broadway, is practically an institution on the Upper West Side. It’s like the Trader Joe’s before Trader Joe’s. It opened in 1934 by Louis and Lillian Zabar, and continues to be a family-run business. This landmark grocery store, known for their bagels, coffee (selling over 400,000-lbs/year), and delicatessen, has been featured in a gazillion movies and television shows.
But even Zabar’s can’t escape a little controversy. Back in 2011, a reporter from New Orleans discovered the store’s lobster salad contained zero lobster. The $16.95/lb sans lobster salad (that had been sold for 15 years) became national news. To be fair, lobster was never listed as an ingredient (it was mostly crawfish). After Lobstergate, Zabar’s renamed the product “Zabster Zalad.”
Anyway, Zabar’s is one of my favorite stores and always worth the trek from Brooklyn. Fortunately, they offer shipping, so I can still get my Zabar’s coffee and bagel fix without setting foot on the subway.
ZZZZs: I’m definitely catching more ZZZZs these dayzzz . . . (there are roughly 569 z-words, but after blogging 26 days this month, I’m a little zonked.) I think a lot of us can agree that this pandemic has forced the world to slow down a little bit, which isn’t a terrible thing. Slowing down forces us to take stock, and re-evaluate all kinds of things in our lives. Sometimes, what we need is to take advantage of more opportunities to sleep.
Without our conscious selves interfering, our body can heal during snooze hours, allowing cells to produce protein. This foundation of protein in our cells, creates healthy cells that work to repair damage from things like stress and UV rays. Because the brain spends this time on maintenance, good, quality sleep is said to be one of the best ways to prevent Alzheimer’s Disease. Aside from making you more alert, sleep improves memory, may reduce your risk of depression, and keeps your heart healthy. Need more convincing? Check out these links:
Thanks, everyone who visited me during this A to Z Challenge! I appreciate all of you and hope to stay connected. Perhaps I’ll even blog a little more often . . . or not. We’ll see. In the meantime, stay safe and healthy! And get some ZZZZs!
A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.
YEARLONG EXPLORATION OF IMPERMANENCE: Shortly before the pandemic struck, a friend and I got the chance to catch an exhibit at the Rubin Museum of Art, on the Buddhist concept of impermanence. The exhibit was scheduled to run this entire year, hence, a year long exhibition. First, the Rubin is a beautiful museum “that stimulates learning, promotes understanding, and inspires personal connections to the ideas, cultures, and art of Himalayan regions.” Impermanence is the idea that everything changes. Learning to detach from the people and the things we love is an important lesson, according to Eastern philosophy. Relying on outside happiness that is only temporary, leads to heartache and suffering–which is why inner peace and inner happiness is a cornerstone of Buddhism. We gotta make our own happiness. It doesn’t mean we can’t love those around us, but we have to be able to continue forth with happiness if that person is no longer around, whether they’ve passed away or simply stepped out of our lives.
One of the things I enjoyed at the exhibit was The Letter Writing Project by artist Lee Mingwei. When his grandmother passed away, he still had so many things he want to say to her, but couldn’t. For the next year, he wrote many letters to her sharing his thoughts and feelings. In this interactive installation, he invites us into a wooden booth to write the letter we had always meant to, but never did. The booth contained everything one would need: paper, envelopes, and pencils. You could seal and address the letter (the museum would send it for you), or leave it open on the wall of the booth for others to read. At a later date, the letters left will be ceremoniously burned. My friend, who had lost her mother only a week earlier, found the process very cathartic. I wrote a note of love and gratitude to my dad. I hope to get the chance to revisit this exhibit later in the year.
YOGA PANTS: I have three pairs of yoga pants I’ve been rotating since the stay-at-home orders began. Below is a conversation between me and my jeans after a long hiatus:
Opens drawer.
JEANS: [squinting] Hey, what the hell?
ME: Sorry, that’s the sun.
JEANS: Yeah, I know. You could have knocked first. I need a
minute.
[waits]
ME: Look, we need to go to the grocery store.
JEANS: What? Are your yoga pants too delicate for the
streets of Brooklyn?
ME: [scoffs] No. Yoga pants are everywhere. This is Park Slope, remember?
JEANS: Oh, yeah. All right then, let’s do this.
[putting on jeans]
JEANS: I’m not here to squash one’s attempt at self-expression; I’m all for it, and you have to do what’s comfortable for you, but the zipper goes in front.
ME: Oh. The tag goes in back?
JEANS: Yep.
[takes jeans off and turns them around]
JEANS: I know there’s that whole front-butt trend—
ME: Mom jeans.
JEANS: Right. But—no pun intended—I’m not that pair.
ME: Yeah, I got that.
[zips and buttons jeans]
JEANS: Whoa, yoga pants might be meant for stretch, but I’m not, lady.
ME: Hey! Things have been turned upside down lately–give me break.
JEANS: What? Would it kill you to drop a few pounds
during this pandemic?
[Unamused glare]
JEANS: Too soon?
ME: Too soon.
JEANS: All I’m saying, is maybe you need to lay off the
Great British Bake Show.
ME: Hey, how do you know what I watch?
JEANS: Your underwear, one drawer up. They’re chatty.
ME: Excuse me?
JEANS: Just saying, they’re feeling the stretch, too.
ME: [gasp] You know, I forgot what a jerk you can be.
JEANS: Oh please, those yoga pants have gotten to you with all their hippy-dippy, you’re-perfect-the-way-you-are crap.
ME: Hey! Those yoga pants have been good to me.
JEANS: A little too good; blowing sunshine up your rear. Ask
your underwear—they know.
ME: You know, I don’t even know why I thought this could work.
JEANS: Me neither.
[takes off jeans; muffled grunts from said pair of jeans; roughly folds up jeans and shoves them into a bottom drawer, far away from the underwear. Puts on yoga pants.]
YOGA PANTS: Was that pair of jeans not being nice to you?
ME: [pouts] Yeah. Mean Jeans.
YOGA PANTS: Well, you don’t need that negativity in your life.
ME: You’re right!
YOGA PANTS: You leave the stretch to me; I’m meant for times like these.
ME: Thanks, yoga pants.
YPGA PANTS: You bet. You’re perfect just the way you are.
[Settles on the couch with laptop to order groceries online]
A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.
XANTHOPHYLL: This is the yellow pigment (lutein), that related to carotene, and found in plants, particularly in autumn leaves. These pics are from the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens last November. While it was a clear morning, a chill in the air kept most people away, so we felt lucky to get these shots before it warmed up a bit that day.
XENOPHOBIA: Fear of foreigners has been around since the beginning of time, and I suspect, it will never go away. It’s during crises like these we see spikes in xenophobia. This Atlantic article points out that during the yellow fever pandemic, Eastern immigrants were targeted; East Asians bore the brunt of SARS; and Africans were blamed for Ebola. Everyone wants a scapegoat, right? For one (not mentioning any names) it’s the cornerstone to their re-election campaign. Check out Unicef’s 5 Ways to Fight Racism and Xenophobia and the UN’s article on what helps to reduce racism and xenophobia.
A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.
WALKING: I don’t miss having to drive. For us, one of the best things about city life, is walking everywhere. The vast majority of our vacations over the last 10-15 years, involve being able to walk everywhere: Vancouver, Seattle, Toronto . . . my son and I logged about 15-18 miles one day in San Francisco (our feet paid for it, but I remember the sights, the company, and the food more than the blisters). We’re not walking as much these days, but we do try to get out once a week or so for a long stroll, mostly to Green-wood Cemetery to enjoy the quiet and the gorgeous foliage. The following are four very short snippets of some journeys (two pre-pandemic and two from just recently).
Brooklyn BridgeWalking under the Washington Square arch (another wonderful W)Under the pear treeUnder the cherry tree
A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.
THE VESSEL: Comprised of 154 interconnecting flights of stairs, the Vessel is one of the latest additions to Manhattan’s highfalutin $25 billion (yes, you read that right) Hudson Yards neighborhood. The spiral staircase consists of 2,500 steps, 80 landings, and is an interactive art piece by Thomas Heatherwick. You must get a ticket to ride climb the steps and are issued on a first come, first served basis, so the lines can get pretty long, but apparently, the views are spectacular. We haven’t actually attempted the trek up yet and frankly, we’d be fine we don’t.
View from below
The “comically-oversized pine cone,” as it’s been called by critics, isn’t without controversy. I’m not sure what the latest is, but originally, your free ticket came with the fine print caveat that simply visiting the $150 million stairclimber granted the Vessel the rights to use all of your Vessel content in perpetuity and for commercial uses. After receiving some harsh feedback, they amended their policy to state people still retain “ownership” of their social media posts, and the Vessel only wants to “amplify and re-share” the photos. Regardless, lawyers still found some troubling clauses in the Vessel’s Terms & Conditions such as “voluntarily giving up substantial legal rights,” and some questionable legality of searching a person’s body and belongings. Anywho . . . the Vessel folks are looking to rename the structure and are asking for the public to offer their two cents. Any ideas?
VIRAL VALEDICTORY: Originally, I vowed to vehemently veer from viral virulence, but a voluminous, verbose verse of Vs fought vainly to be voiced, hence, a Viral Valedictory.
Bon voyage, virus! Vamoose! Our vigilant vacations and vacated ventures will be a valiant victory over your villainous violation. With vigor and vitality, virologists wielding vials of vaccines will vanquish your violent invasion validating our vital and voracious vision for your eviction. (Take with you, the valueless, vindictive village vermin ventriloquized by the vulturous GOP near Virginia, and whose vicious and vexing vitriol is a verifiable vat of verbal vomit.)
To everyone else: Vindication, via your versatileness, videoconferencing, vegging out, and vigilant volunteering for the vulnerable victims and vendors is vicinal. Levitate the vibrations with vivacious voodoo vibes and vocal invocation and vaporize this vulgar virus into oblivion. Be vainglorious, as our viable viceroyship is inevitable.
A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.
UPPER WEST SIDE: I love the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I’m sure it has a lot to do with it being where I stayed when I visited NYC for the first time back in 2013. Actually, it probably goes back even further to You’ve Got Mail, one of my favorite movies, and one that celebrates the UWS. There’s just something about this neighborhood; the history, the architecture, the vibe. However, we chose Brooklyn for two reasons: our dear friend and her now-toddler daughter live here; and Brooklyn bucks go a lot further when it comes to living arrangements. Flanked by Central Park and the Hudson River, the UWS spans south to 59th Street and north, to 110th Street. The Upper East Side might have Museum Mile, but the UWS boasts plenty of cultural go-tos (Lincoln Center, American Museum of Natural History, Columbia University, and several theaters, like the Beacon). It’s got Zabar’s for Pete’s sake! The brownstone- and tree-lined neighborhoods also have that quintessential NYC feel, too.
You’ll also find the 72nd Street station control house, that opened in 1904 as one of the original 28 stations of the NC subway system. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the control house was deemed adequate because of narrow stairways and no underground crossover or crossunder to access all trains from one entrance. A new control house built near it in 2002, provides the much-needed space and second exit/entrance.
The station underwent another renovation in 2018 that included a sky and cloud mosaic by Yoko Ono, who lives in the iconic Dakota building atop the subway stop. I took a picture of the mosaic one day–not even knowing who created it–but for the life of me, I can’t find it. Thank goodness for the interwebs.
UPANISHADS: I started studying Hindu philosophy five years ago and essayed my experience for a magazine in early 2017. For those first couple of years, these philosophies and the practice of meditation provided me with a perspective that kept me in a calm and contented Zenned-out state. I guess I had enough Zen reserves to muster through the first few months of Trump’s “presidency,” but as time went on, those tanks got tapped out. I remember at the time, I had been reading the Upanishads, ancient Sanskrit texts of spiritual teachings and ideas of Hinduism, but the god-awfulness of the Orange Menace, became too much and my Zen ran for the hills. I’ve been struggling to catch up to it ever since.
I don’t subscribe to any organized religion (often an oxymoron, if ask me), but I can get behind some of these sacred teachings and words of wisdom regarding karma and inner spiritual contemplation. Written in poetic verse, I find the text in the Upanishads much more palatable than most translated spiritual teachings. I’ll be the first to admit, some of it feels preachy and not relatable, which is why I don’t throw all my philosophical and spiritual eggs in one basket, but it’s got several nuggets of insight and perspective that my brain seems to align with. I’ve been revisiting these lessons over the past couple of months–even before this pandemic began–in an effort to find just an inkling of that elusive Zen. I’ll leave you with a snippet of the Aitareya Upanishad that pertains to the unity of life:
The Self is in all. He is all the gods, the five elements, Earth, air, fire, water, and space; all creatures, Great or small, born of eggs, of wombs, of heat, Of shoots, horses, cows, elephants, men and women; All beings that walk, all beings that fly, And all that neither walk nor fly.”
