Happy Halloween, Ladies!

Once again, the veil between the worlds is thin, the Other Side is closer than it's been all year, and all we can think about is how to win that costume contest or keep up with the 20-somethings' drinking games.

Last night, Bizarro, J-Net and I went out in costume to see the freaks and the happenings in downtown City on the Edge of Forever. We were early, for starters, so mostly we saw respectable people in respectable clothes just after their wine and tapas. They did not look amused. J-Net flipped them the bird, I vaporized them with my ray gun, and Bizarro would've shrunk their clothes until their buttons popped off with his sonic screwdriver except he left it in the TARDIS.

We finally found a hip place where people were in costume - many homemade and very creative - and happily slurped our Strongbow ciders until we decided to eat. By the time we left to head over to the waffle place, the uptight theatre goers were in bed. The freaky Halloweenists (that moniker via some drunk in one of the towny bars we hit) were out and the vibe was much more relaxed and tinged with anticipation. Ah yes, to be young and in costume on Halloween Eve!

After our snack, we did a little funk-da-fying with a local funk and soul band before completely petering out (because we're old) and heading back to the car. However, the good times kept rolling with J-Net's totally rad cassette tape of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" which we blasted as we drove through the quiet, sleepy streets of the City on the Edge of Forever. It was like being seventeen all over again. Except that we weren't smoking, we stopped at every stop sign, and we were all in bed by 1:00 a.m.

The New Banner (or, "Gramma's Ghost")

I'd just like to take a few moments to spew forth about the new banner. You may have noticed that it doesn't have ocean waves or palm trees or spring blossoms. It's also in black and white. This photo was taken from my grandmother's front porch I'm guessing in the 1940s, by the design of the car whizzing past. (Did cars whiz in the 40s? Or did they just sort of roll by?) This photo is one of a kabillion old photos I inherited/collected from my parents' immense collection of "who the hell is that? I don't remember that photo being taken. now where was that at?" Me, I adore old photos and have vowed to make them a regular part of my every day life.

Anyway, so check out the border of said banner. It's that sort of pink-salmony color right? Dude, that was the color of Gramma's house. I'm not kidding. Imagine this house in pink-salmony glory:



That house was in an area of Elmira, NY called "The Patch," which was an Italian neighborhood. When it was first built in the 1800s there was nothing - and I mean nothing - around it. Check it:



I'm not sure when my grandparents bought the home - I'm thinking some time in the 1930s, but this is how I remember Gramma at that house:



So as you can tell, I love that house. I think for the time being, I'm going to keep this banner - it is far more personal than some of the other images I've swapped out over the years. Oh, and in case you're wondering about the "INT./EXT." reference - that's a screenplay shot heading for a scene that is shot partially Interior and Exterior at a location.

As an aside, I used to have dreams of going into this house, only it was terribly haunted. Not by good people like my grandparents, but by evil spirits and suchlike. At some point in the recent past, I dreamed of going in there, but it was "clean," as Zelda Rubinstein would say. Seems to have been the end of those recurring dreams. Think of that what you will.

One year ago, I said good-bye to my Momazoo for the last time on this Earth. It doesn't seem possible that a year has slipped by. I'm glad this is a Friday, so I can take the weekend to be introspective, sit by the fire, and write in my journal.

I have some roses by her picture, and a prayer card of St. Anne's Prayer. It was Mom's favorite prayer; she was devoted to St. Anne. I would read her prayers to her in the nursing home, when she was too weak to read them herself, and we always had to include that prayer.

I miss you, Momazoo.

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Happy Halloween!

vacation images

Friday is Conspiracy Day

Sorry, B., that's the second title I've lifted from you in as many days. But this one's for a good reason. Check this out: NPR's All Things Considered Giant Spider Web in Texas story, Southeastern Social Cobweb Spider or just check out this creepy photo:



It's just one more piece of evidence that the animal and insect kingdoms are getting ready to revolt and exterminate homo sapiens. The behavior of the spiders in question (Long-jawed Orb Weavers) is normally not social, but in this case they have banded together to create an immense web that has trapped kabillions of mosquitoes from the nearby pond.

Definitely creepy. It warrants a new label.

Owen's 1st Birthday!

It's hard to believe my grand nephew Owen is one! Here are some photos of his first birthday party:

A Lifetime Ago...

From 1980 through 1990, I attended a music camp in Canandaigua, NY that saved my life.

At a 4H camp in the Bristol Hills of western NY, Bristol Hills Music Camp was held every August for two weeks. As a camper for five years, I attended camp for one week, and as a counselor for 5 years, I was there for two weeks every summer. It's been 17 years since I'd returned to the camp, and yesterday I attended the week-ending concert that the daughter of friends was playing in. I had recommended the camp to them last spring, since I knew that like myself at her age, my young friend B. had no experience playing with an ensemble (she also plays violin).

I went yesterday with the joy of watching her play, but also with a jumble of memories swirling around in my head. We arrived at the camp and I was struck by the fact that it looks EXACTLY the same as it did 17+ years ago. There are only a few minor additions to the campground, not enough to spoil the experience of revisiting my favorite place from those years in my life.

Even better - there were folks from my days at camp in attendance, including one of the former camp directors. Here's a picture of myself, Sarah, Amy and Betsy. Oh, the times we had - and the rock we're sitting on is a rock festooned with memories from countless years and campers:



When I say that camp saved my life, I am not exaggerating. My dad passed away in 1979, and we were by then living in Elmira, NY, a dreadful place that held nothing but loneliness and despondency for many years. My school had a shoddy excuse for a music program, with no orchestra and no string ensemble to speak of. As you know (if you read this blog or know me personally), I was not a happy person from the ages of 11 - 19. In fact, I was damned depressed with thoughts of suicide flitting through my hormonal brain. I didn't fit in at school and I had practically non-existent self-esteem.

At Bristol Hills, I realized that I had talent, and that there other people in the world like me. It's the place that saved me from a depressing, lonely, confidence-sapping existence in Elmira's Catholic schools. I felt wanted, needed, appreciated, loved. I belonged. I was someone special, someone people looked up to and although I have never been a great violinist, Bristol Hills made me a better violinist.

To Sandy, Sarah, Kate, Amy, Wil, Brooke, Margie, Jennifer, Jon, Betsy, Hebert, Mr. Z, Mr. Bradley, Greg, and all those campers and counselors whose names I can't recall right now -- I thank you all for creating a place in which I could thrive for ten years running. Thank you for creating the place that saved my life.

I realized as I walked around the camp that certain areas and buildings had entered the landscape of my dreams. Clearly this place has remained a deeply embedded part of my unconscious mind. After yesterday, it is once again a shining place in my conscious memory. I am so pleased that young B. was able to enjoy the same set of traditions and experiences of playing in an ensemble with other dedicated musicians. Here's to the long life of Bristol Hills Music Camp!

String Lodge (all strings-only rehearsals are held here, and the sound is resonant and glorious)


The Edge of Girls' Village, Photo building (?) on the right (junior chorus rehearses there)


Eagles Nest and Lotus Lodge (two of my former cabins)


Main Lodge (where all meals, senior chorus rehearsals, orchestra rehearsals, band rehearsals, mixers, and concerts are held - the strings always fall flat in this building while the brass drowns us out)


We've decided we need to round up as many alumni as possible and try to hold a reunion of sorts next year. Alum #1 on the hit list: Wil Shore. Where are you?

Korea Photos (Pt. I)

Back in the Saddle

I've been home from Korea 5 days now, and am only slightly jetlagged at this point. That was made worse by a cold I caught the day after I got back. Yesterday was the first day I didn't nap from 3-8 in the afternoon/evening - I forced myself to stay awake and went to bed at around 9:45.

It's been great to be home - Bizarro had the apartment ready for my return with vacuumed floors, clean sheets, and a tidy office. He met me at the bus station on Monday with my favorite yogurt, since it was well after dinner and I was hungry.

The bad news of the week was delivered while I was still in NYC, not even back in the states 24 hours. I got a call from NYS Dept of Labor telling me that since I now have a contract to teach this fall, I no longer qualify to claim benefits. So that meant my income for the last 3 weeks of the month went out the window. It's tough - we are down to a skeleton budget and I'm temping next week to make ends meet. But as usual, we'll pull through.

I have made some momentous life decisions based on the fact that I am fucking tired of these ratty-ass situations presenting themselves repeatedly. So... drum roll please...

I will be searching for a full-time desk job to start in Jan. '08 (or December, after the semester finishes). I will get my teaching fix through the local community arts organization, for whom I am teaching a class this fall. I will focus my creative energies on my screenplays and the documentary, getting an agent, putting the doco into festivals. I will also be involved in the local film festival that happens every year here. We need the stability to plan our future, and being an adjunct won't provide that stability.

Now that the decision is made, I feel a lot better. I just need to muddle through this semester of teaching at three different places, driving all over hell and creation, and dealing with the personalities that go with each job. I will also be contacting a career advisor through Bizraro's work place (one of those fringe bennies) to help me make the transition from academia to real world in terms of a job search and presenting myself. All those admin and non-teaching jobs I applied for in the spring I didn't even get an interview for, so I think I need to work on how I present myself.

So, lots of work to be done - syllabi to make, screenplay to write, film to work on. I also am thinking ahead to winter and how I will strategize to keep myself mentally and physically healthy. There's a NIA dance class starting up next week which I will begin doing again. I attended NIA dance classes in Columbus 6 years ago and loved it - so I'm very excited that there's a class starting up here.

I will be posting a couple select photos from my trip to Korea soon. Keep an eye out for those.

It's good to be home!

The Tank Man

No, it's not a sequel to "Tank Girl."

Yesterday marked the 18th anniversary of the events at Tiananmen Square. Last night I stayed up to watch Frontline's "The Tank Man." An excellent program that looks at those events and their far-reaching effects in China today. Too bad no one in China under the age of twenty seems to know about the Tank Man or anything else about the events that made their upwardly-mobile, middle-class existence possible.

It feels strange to know I walked in that very square (See the link for Adventures of the Jade Monkey in China to the right). I remember at the time not wanting to write too much about what had happened there, because I wasn't sure what kind of censorship was in place via email. As it was, I couldn't keep a blog because the authorities didn't at that time allow blogs (free speech, doncha know). I emailed my posts to Bizarro, who set up and managed the blog for me from home.

The truth is, it was hard to imagine the horror of those events while I was there. The square was mobbed with tourists, Chinese and foreign alike, and tons of people selling Mao wrist watches (where his arms are the clock hands - unreal), Red-star commie hats, parasols, kites etc.


--taken by one of my fellow teachers during our trip to Beijing.

Of course there were cameras everywhere, and there were military guards posted, but mainly it seemed geared to tourism. Of course, China is an economic juggernaut these days, so it's a different situation altogether. Despite the relative economic wealth of the east coast (farmers and inner-China are still very poor), there is still the lack of free speech.

So yes, it was strange, knowing those events had taken place on the same stones under my feet. But at the same time, I felt the ancientness of everything else (the Forbidden City, namely) that overshadowed the square.

I suppose those of us in the West are charged with remembering and knowing the significance of the massacre at Tiananmen Square, so that Tank Man and his bravery for defying authority with his life will not be forgotten.

The Weekend in Photos

The Fam at Aunt Stella's (Big Bro, his wife Donn-Wa, Aunt Stella, Bizarro, Mom):



Aunt Stella's Porch:



Bizarro grills the Man Meat on our patio:




Food Cam!




Big Bro, Donn-wa & Me at Taughahanunauk Falls (I have no idea how to spell it):




Big Bro & Donn-wa:




Me at Ithaca Falls:

Aftermath

The sun is shining, the sky is blue. The apartment guys didn't come by to dig us out until around 11:30 this morning. I wasn't able to get to campus to sub for my colleague this morning, but what could I do? When they finally got here with the plows, snow blowers and shovels, I paid one of the guys to shovel out my car. These are before & after and during & after photos.

The first pair is of the Buddha statue on my patio. The next two are of the chair on the patio. The last photos are of my car and the spot after I dug out. Notice the imprint of the license plate in the snow!

Jack Frost Can Kiss My Ass pt. II

It's snowing like a muther out there. Here are some pictures from my trip to the homeland (Rockland, MASS) in October to remember warmer days:

Winter Images

I took these pictures about a week and a half ago.