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i must say my dears of all the weird and wacky things i’ve experienced living in NYC for 30 years, (yes it”s my 30 year anniversary of being a bad-ass New Yorker dears) ..a mega nor-easter snow storm in October is just off the charts!
when i looked out my window yesterday am and saw giant snow flakes i thought i was hallucinating..okay yes, they did mention snow on the news, but that was just too odd to even listen to..
then trecking cross town we are only talking about 7 avenues hear my dear i felt like i was a pioneer making my way to the north pole, getting whipped by nastry, wet, rainy snow…
good lord if it’s gonna snow, let it be fluffy and fun, not wet and goopy..it felt like i was stuck in a perpetual episode of GLEE and getting slusshies whipped at me constantly..NOT FUN
and how weird is it to see Halloween decorations covered in wet snow?!
thankfully we didn’t lose power in the city but i did hear about 1 million folks in the surrounding areas did…
mother nature dears, not to be ignored…
the news said this was the biggest snow storm in october ever
governor quomo said biggest since
the civil war..and i sure do believe it
but today aside from a whole lot of branches and trees and power lines down it seems to be all clear
so i shall venture out my dears
if you are without power sending you some cheer, light those candles, read those books and find warmth as you can good luck darlings
now can we get back to fall already for crying out loud!
this is just NUTS
October 30, 2011 Comments Off
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I was fifteen year’s old when a French kiss in the women’s bathroom of Toad Hall, (a nightclub in Red Bank New Jersey that, at the time was one of the few places in Jersey that would let punk bands play) changed my life forever.
I had no idea I was gay. I had never even considered the notion, but five seconds into that spontaneous and miraculous kiss with Cindy Butler (name changed, she’s not as brave as I wish she was) and I knew my life would never be the same.
Suddenly all the answers to questions that had plagued me since I was four-years-old came spilling forward like an avalanche!
That’s why I had to bring my first grade teacher Mrs. Mahon an apple every week!
That’s why I could not even consider being anywhere but the television set every Wednesday night, in time to see Lindsay Wagner play “The Bionic Woman!”
That’s why I felt a sick, wrong and uncomfortable feeling in my chest every time a boy tried ANYTHING with me!, Well hmm aside from the fact that some of the guys I met on the Long Branch Amusement Pier in 1981 weren’t exactly pinnacles of society.
I took a lot of abuse in the 7th and 8th grade and didn’t even know why I was targeted, but my abusers knew. Pretty preppy popular girls who took one look at my husky-boys K-mart back-to-school clothes and knew there was something just not Kosher about the girl in the flannel shirt. Boys who tried to hit me and spit on me because I was not the norm.
Oh I got my revenge my dears. I broke out of my shell and ruled my high school as the badass rock-and roll biker chick from hell!
But even then, I was covering up. I knew I was different just didn’t know exactly how, that is until that one kiss blasted the walls open.
It wasn’t like I was ready to say I was gay, exactly, no not in Rumson New Jersey in 1981, but I joined a theatre club filled with gay and bi-sexual actors and learned being bi-sexual was all the rage in the punk, glam and theatre scene. It took me a few more years to say I was gay and when I finally did, most of my pals answered, “DUH! Of course you are!”
In the years that have followed, I have marched in parades, sat in floats, joined rallies, raised my fist and my voice high in the air to announce to one and all those immortal words; “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it!”
But even now, decades later, when I see a headline, like the one I saw about Jamie Hubley, the gay 15 year old from Ottawa, Canada, who committed suicide on Friday, I am right back there.
I am 13 years old, sitting in a bathroom stall eating my lunch because I am too ashamed that no one in my grammar school lunchroom is brave enough to risk the taunts of bullies to sit with me.
I am 16 years old and not able to say out loud that the real reason I don’t want to go to the prom is that I cannot go with the person I really want to kiss without being run out of town.
Oh my darlings, of course it gets better and thank god for sites like www.itgetsbetter.org who can say this in the voice of thousands.
But for Jamie it never had a chance to get better, because he ended his young life far too early.
He chose death to three more years of high school.
It has to end.
Our teachers, our parents, our students all have to band together to stop bullying in our schools and if principals and teachers and teacher’s aids are too cowardly to stand against it, FIRE THEIR asses because stopping bullying and homophobia against our kids has got to be part of the job requirement!
It did get better for me oh my dears, so much better but there where days when I was a kid that the idea of living comfortably true to myself out loud and proud just seemed like a dream.
My dream came true and so can yours. Don’t give up, ever.
October 17, 2011
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I was on route to a friend’s restaurant opening in South Street Seaport when the wall street protests went full steam, all my gal and I knew was that we couldn’t take the seaport exit off the FDR and had to go all the way down to battery park and come back around. This made us late of course but more importantly I thought what the hell is a Wall Street protest?
We heard 700 protestors were arrested that night for trying to cross the bridge. I began to remember the republican convention protests when peaceful protestors were rounded up in nets and jailed. Those were the days when to be anti-war thanks to Junya GW bush meant to be anti-american. I’m fairly sure if Bush and Cheney were around today to take the BLAME as they should be for causing the beginning of the murder of our economy and lying to get us into a bogus endless war, they’d be locking up the wall street protestors calling them terrorist sympathizers.
Hey folks creating martyrs never worked for anyone!
Watching the republicans fight to the death not to raise taxes on the top 1% uber wealthy while schoolteachers are getting laid off makes me angry. Knowing Wall Street gave out bonuses the year they sucked our economy dry for bailouts feels criminal to me.
Watching the wall street protests grow and the people around me who are struggling, fed up and tired, feel inspired by the protests is rather amazing. Certainly reminds me of the movement we all watched this past year in the middle east.
It also reminds me of the creating of the T party, although of course T party right-wingers don’t see it that way. Hey if the shoe fits, shut up and wear it!
Clearly these protests are NOT a little thing to poo poo. They are the rising voices of working class and middle class Americans who are tired of being shitted on by the 1% and the politicians licking the tushies of the 1%.
Three weeks after the Occupy Wall Street protests started in downtown Manhattan, things are getting pretty spicy.
They don’t seem to have a specific set of demands and no specific leader either. But there’s something kind of nice and refreshing in that too.
Its’ an organic growing free flowing revolution of sorts.
I think folks are mad at so many things at the same time, they just can’t be nailed down a to few.
Corporate dollars dictating what the government does is certainly on the top of the list.
I was too young to really understand the 60’s but this certainly feels like that kind of vibe, grass roots, un-kept, peaceful and poetic.
Young people out of college who can’t find work. Folks whose un-employment has run out, folks whose retirement funds have disappeared, the list of angry Americans is endless.
Then you have small business owners who are tired of listening to politicians tout the love and support this country needs to embrace the small business owner with, the back-bone of America’s economy and bla de bla bla and meanwhile certainly in NYC, every possible tax, penalty, inspection fee, that can be imagined is being relentlessly whipped at business owners, this I can tell you from personal experience. The list of people with badges holding their hands out for an un-ending demand of money is mind-boggling. I don’t even like to open my front door anymore. It’s exhausting!
For me, I’m not angry at Wall Street as a whole. I know a lot of great people who do good things and need Wall Street to survive. I don’t want to see Wall street shut down and those thousands and thousands and thousands of people out of work too. The death of Wall Street would only hurt the protestors all the more.
But I’m tired of corporate giants winning while small folks lose. I’m tired of Republicans refusing to raise taxes on millionaires and billionaires that could boost our economy and at the same time watching their victims in many cases the same people who voted for them get the shaft, broke, fore-closed on, laid off you name it.
If you want to buy a home, you can’t get a mortgage.
Banks are hoarding cash and innocent Americans are watching their dreams go down the toilet.
If ever there was a time for a revolution this is it. The 99% are angry and those numbers are far too daunting to ignore.
October 9, 2011
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It’s been a week of death, both in my world and out, ending with the pioneer Steve Jobs who certainly had more impact on this century the most mortals.
Today I am preparing to cater a very special wedding for a family who lost a loved one only days ago. Tomorrow I go to the synagogue for YISKOR a chance to say the prayers for the dead and honor my mother.
I told the family the story of what I was told by an artist who’s wedding was shortly after 911. He wasn’t sure whether or not it was in bad taste to hold a celebration after the death of thousands and so consulted his rabbi who said in the Talmud (ancient Jewish book of rules and customs and more) there is law that if a funeral procession and a wedding procession meet at an intersection, the wedding procession has the right of way.
The idea is simple and beautiful. It’s all about honoring the dead but always putting the priority on new love, new life, rebirth, renewal, living life.
I love this simple image of the funeral procession yielding to the wedding procession, a simple and powerful image.
And so as Yom Kippur approaches, a solemn day of fasting, mourning, forgiving, asking for forgiveness, atoning and introspection I wish you all a re-birth of love and a renewal of the strength it really takes to get thru this often tough life.
In this economy many of the people I know are tired, stressed, fed up, flustered and just ready for life to get easier. Oh the easy life…always just a turn on the highway away.
I don’t think very many people rich or poor actually have an easy life.
For me certainly life has been anything but easy, but today there is a gorgeous crispness to the early fall air and I am taking a moment to feel it on my face. The lovely sound of a rustling breeze through the trees has been usurped by the sound of a siren, but still yes, yes I can hear the trees rustle once the siren passes. There are certainly moments my dears, moments to cherish.
Peace and love to you all fasting on Yom Kippur and to you all just trying to make sense of life’s boulders.
This too shall pass
October 7, 2011