Recounting my incredible journey to Hungary is long overdue, so here goes:
I arrived at the Budapest airport; I'd been talking to a couple from Denver, CO on the short plane ride from London and also was talking to a large group of students from a Church group (who I gathered were like the American version of the Von Trapp family; dancing and singing all throughout Europe). I chuckled to myself thinking that they were here in Hungary to get all excited about God through music and song and dance and I was here to party, drink heavily, and maybe even do sinful, naughty things with my body. For shame.
After landing and grabbing my luggage, I walked outside; as I was doing so, Bence was walking in! I hugged him and just tried to soak in the awesomeness of the moment, seeing my good friend once again! He explained there was a bomb threat and thus police were everywhere; probably just heard the crazy, uncultured American had arrived and got scared I would pollute the country.
The first song I heard on the radio was "Poker Face." FREAKING POKER FACE! It was like I never left America, but apparently the "GaGa" craze was just as big in Hungary as in the U.S.
The first night hangin out with Ben had many elements of "New York" nostalgia merely 6 months earlier when he came to America for the first time; we ate, raised a glass(es), laughed, partied, danced, partied some more, and had a great time, soaking in all the wonderful elements of our friendship, and of the night in general. We started off at his flat in Budapest, drinking shots (like always, he sipped, I pounded) and we hung out with his neighbors for a bit.
Next, we headed into town, and Ben treated me to a hearty steak dinner in a quaint and nearly empty Italian restaurant (it was late by the time we arrived). The story was as random as could be; we were offered a ride by two burly men who "knew of a good place," and who proceeded to take us to Alessandro Sparta and our succulent meal. Afterwards, it gets a bit blurry, but we ended up at Morrison's Bar, which is apparently a staple in town and on our way we met "Tom" from Finland, a Nordic looking scholarly type. Singing karaoke, drinking more, getting shots on the house, and dancing around in the sweaty orgy of bodies before us summed up the evening.
By the time we hopped in a cab for home, I was blitzed; yet I remember the cabbie driving like a madman, much like in New York. Maybe there's an unwritten cabbie code that justifies their insane driving methods.
All in all, Monday, July 6, 2009, my first night in Hungary, was enough fun and memories for the year. If I had to pick one night to remember from the year, it might be this one. I was in another country, peaceful and intricate; I was on vacation, head was cleared, and most importantly, I was reunited with one of my best friends in the world, and the experience was electric.
JD
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
I will try to keep each one of these brief (that's a challenge for me, we all know how I can go on and on, oh shit I'm doing it again....!)
Last Friday at the airport a girl asked if she could sit across from me at my table while I ate seasame chicken (ah, airport chinese, there's really no other good option), so I said sure, seeing as there was no other place available. I stared down at my plate, a bit awkwardly I suppose, so as not to make direct eye contact with her; she struck up a conversation first asking where I was from. Noticing she had an accent, I asked where she was from and she asked me to guess. I musta guessed every other country in the world BEFORE Germany, where she is from. I gave her my card and cell # in case she wanted to meet up in the city before she headed back. 4 days later, I'm walking with my mom and sister in Hell's Kitchen, just down 9th Ave., and I feel a tap on my should - spinning around, I realize it's Juli - the girl from the airpot, standing there shrugging her shoulders in that "it's such a small world" kinda way.
The next day I was at H&M and I ran into a Dutch family; their son was trying on clothese in the dressing room next to mine - I asked if they knew of Tilburg in Holland (my roommates last name is Tilburg) so we shared a laugh and I spoke a bit of french with them. My mom's birthday gift to me was buying me some new, "more hip" clothes, but the Dutch man asked if I had a girlfiend (i.e why wouldn't she help you pick out clothes) and upon answering 'no' to his question he laughed at me, the poor, pathetic American who's not gettin any and needs help from the next best thing to a fashion consultant, his mother and sister.
Later in the week, I ran into Simon, from Brighton, England, moving out of my building. On my way down to the gym, I helped him carry a few boxes.
I'm standing on the curb and notice a woman trying to hail a cab; as she does this, one cab overshoots her, and another car pulls up behind. Behind that comes another cab, who spots the woman; meanwhile the first cab that overshot is trying to get the woman's attention and the car behind him starts beeping violently (green light, go you pr*ck!!) As the woman brushes the first cab off with her hand, indicating him to move on, another more agile woman slips in and takes the second cab in line, leaving the woman looking puzzled and alone.
These encounters make me even more thankful I live here, as my interactions with people from all over the planet (most of whom conveniently speak English :) is daily. This allows for a 'richer' life - a life that is constantly being brushed by others from different backgrounds, and I often wonder: how did you arrive to this H&M today; how'd you decide on moving to Brooklyn? What have you constantly done almost everyday for the last year, if anything? Did you just come from the apartment of the person with whom you are having an affair? Did you just strangle a person to death? You nevcer know as you walk along these streets who you're gonna meet and what they've got behind the face, ya know?
Last Friday at the airport a girl asked if she could sit across from me at my table while I ate seasame chicken (ah, airport chinese, there's really no other good option), so I said sure, seeing as there was no other place available. I stared down at my plate, a bit awkwardly I suppose, so as not to make direct eye contact with her; she struck up a conversation first asking where I was from. Noticing she had an accent, I asked where she was from and she asked me to guess. I musta guessed every other country in the world BEFORE Germany, where she is from. I gave her my card and cell # in case she wanted to meet up in the city before she headed back. 4 days later, I'm walking with my mom and sister in Hell's Kitchen, just down 9th Ave., and I feel a tap on my should - spinning around, I realize it's Juli - the girl from the airpot, standing there shrugging her shoulders in that "it's such a small world" kinda way.
The next day I was at H&M and I ran into a Dutch family; their son was trying on clothese in the dressing room next to mine - I asked if they knew of Tilburg in Holland (my roommates last name is Tilburg) so we shared a laugh and I spoke a bit of french with them. My mom's birthday gift to me was buying me some new, "more hip" clothes, but the Dutch man asked if I had a girlfiend (i.e why wouldn't she help you pick out clothes) and upon answering 'no' to his question he laughed at me, the poor, pathetic American who's not gettin any and needs help from the next best thing to a fashion consultant, his mother and sister.
Later in the week, I ran into Simon, from Brighton, England, moving out of my building. On my way down to the gym, I helped him carry a few boxes.
I'm standing on the curb and notice a woman trying to hail a cab; as she does this, one cab overshoots her, and another car pulls up behind. Behind that comes another cab, who spots the woman; meanwhile the first cab that overshot is trying to get the woman's attention and the car behind him starts beeping violently (green light, go you pr*ck!!) As the woman brushes the first cab off with her hand, indicating him to move on, another more agile woman slips in and takes the second cab in line, leaving the woman looking puzzled and alone.
These encounters make me even more thankful I live here, as my interactions with people from all over the planet (most of whom conveniently speak English :) is daily. This allows for a 'richer' life - a life that is constantly being brushed by others from different backgrounds, and I often wonder: how did you arrive to this H&M today; how'd you decide on moving to Brooklyn? What have you constantly done almost everyday for the last year, if anything? Did you just come from the apartment of the person with whom you are having an affair? Did you just strangle a person to death? You nevcer know as you walk along these streets who you're gonna meet and what they've got behind the face, ya know?
Friday, August 21, 2009
People, not the magazine.
People in New York.
What do you think when you read the above sentence? I've had a few run-ins lately; some more humorous that others. Riding the bus downtown a few weeks ago to meet Dan, I started to get up because the bus came to a halt, and the door opened, and a police officer got on. Before I could get out, the bus driver shut the door (rather abruptly) and drove off. I said, "I thought that was a stop," to which he replied, "it wasn't." I was in some kind of mood, so I said, "You know you could say it nicely, you deal with people coming on and off of this bus all day; you gotta work on your people skills." He then raised his voice, said again that it "wasn't a stop" and criticized me for 'giving him attitude.'
Last Friday night in NYC's terrible awful Meatpacking district, I was trying to get into a bar for a friends B-Day party. For me, this neighborhood is pretentious, fake, overpriced, and might as well break off of Manhattan island and float away. Anyway, the bouncer wouldn't let us in (2 am on a Friday night) for a reason I didnt (and don't) quite understand. I was slightly drunk, and sure, I was being argumentative, but I dont understand how a place like that (which, honestly, wasn't all that special) can act so "exclusive" and actually turn away customers. It wasn't that crowded. My friend even came out and asked them to let me in. No dice. The bouncer said he was going to have to raise his voice and 'throw me down the fuckin stairs' if I kept bothering him. It ended with my friend and I walking away, yelling 'FUCK YOU! AND GOODNIGHT' to the bouncer. Then I peed on the side of the hotel.
Yesterday on the subway, a dude made a speech about the Victoria Secret bras and underwear he was trying to sell - clearly a joke, as he priced each one at $100, and his two friends were cracking up in the background, this was extremely funny. He's like, "I am not selling this for my basketball team, or anything else, just for me" If I was rich I think I woulda bought one just because I liked his humor.
What do you think when you read the above sentence? I've had a few run-ins lately; some more humorous that others. Riding the bus downtown a few weeks ago to meet Dan, I started to get up because the bus came to a halt, and the door opened, and a police officer got on. Before I could get out, the bus driver shut the door (rather abruptly) and drove off. I said, "I thought that was a stop," to which he replied, "it wasn't." I was in some kind of mood, so I said, "You know you could say it nicely, you deal with people coming on and off of this bus all day; you gotta work on your people skills." He then raised his voice, said again that it "wasn't a stop" and criticized me for 'giving him attitude.'
Last Friday night in NYC's terrible awful Meatpacking district, I was trying to get into a bar for a friends B-Day party. For me, this neighborhood is pretentious, fake, overpriced, and might as well break off of Manhattan island and float away. Anyway, the bouncer wouldn't let us in (2 am on a Friday night) for a reason I didnt (and don't) quite understand. I was slightly drunk, and sure, I was being argumentative, but I dont understand how a place like that (which, honestly, wasn't all that special) can act so "exclusive" and actually turn away customers. It wasn't that crowded. My friend even came out and asked them to let me in. No dice. The bouncer said he was going to have to raise his voice and 'throw me down the fuckin stairs' if I kept bothering him. It ended with my friend and I walking away, yelling 'FUCK YOU! AND GOODNIGHT' to the bouncer. Then I peed on the side of the hotel.
Yesterday on the subway, a dude made a speech about the Victoria Secret bras and underwear he was trying to sell - clearly a joke, as he priced each one at $100, and his two friends were cracking up in the background, this was extremely funny. He's like, "I am not selling this for my basketball team, or anything else, just for me" If I was rich I think I woulda bought one just because I liked his humor.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Hello, peeps!
A lot's been happening since I last blogged; instead of being my usual, nuerotic self about writing this blog, i'm just gonna write:
You see, life is so very jam. I'm constantly reminded that life's smallest intricacies make it worth living, each and every day; in my day-to-day activities there's something wonderful, hidden and subsequently discovered, accomplished, etc. and the people around me, although sometimes disappointing, are very true and good. I am so thankful. SO thankful! I want to run around the streets of Manhattan (maybe naked) and proclaim that life is FUCKING good.
It helps that I live in New York fucking City; my love for the city is so strong it's scary. Walking around New York, talking and interacting with all different kinds of people, compiling nutty stories, saying nutty things, doing awkward things - these are the days, man, these are the days. I ran into two tourists once on Lexington Ave. and 46th; I approached them and asked if they needed help (they were looking like a map all conspicuously) and they asked me where Times Square was. I pointed down and right; told them it was right around the corner. I recognized their accent - Hungarian - and I had a conversation with them.
Chuck asked me to be his best man. I was so humbled; I got the call while having brunch at Bubby's w/Nick. He called twice; since this is rare, I though something must be up. Chuck would never call twice unless he had a burning question. So I answered the second time. Speaking of Nick, I'd called him the day before to figure out brunch logistics. Later that day, I'm walking south on Lafayette, in a random and rather barren block, and there's Nick - he notices me before I him - and his arms are outstretched. Fuckin random as fuck, and awesome to see you here!
Then there's the dude in the pastry shop. I'm in line for the bathroom. He makes some small talk about the long line, and I acknowledge him. Then he says, "Family is important, no? But good friends are great to have, too." I agree, and think this is jam. Then he jumps right into sexuality and comments that men need to release, release (he's looking for the word) then he says it - sperm! He also explains the female orgasm to me and actually acts it out (just the motion, no sound - this wasn't Katz's deli, he wasn't Meg Ryan). Then he tells me he can make people get on their knees at his command. I start tio tune out, but appreciate his genuine nature - he says, "you'll never meet another Tony!"
Today I received one of the greatest compliments ever - it actually was probably more directed at my mother - I'm seeing an apartment and the landlord says to the broker, "I might help this kid out, give him a deal, take the rent down a bit, because I like him. He's not a fratty dick." Then the broker started singing my praises. It may have been artificial, but I didn't get that vibe.
Such a good day. Such a good day.
You see, life is so very jam. I'm constantly reminded that life's smallest intricacies make it worth living, each and every day; in my day-to-day activities there's something wonderful, hidden and subsequently discovered, accomplished, etc. and the people around me, although sometimes disappointing, are very true and good. I am so thankful. SO thankful! I want to run around the streets of Manhattan (maybe naked) and proclaim that life is FUCKING good.
It helps that I live in New York fucking City; my love for the city is so strong it's scary. Walking around New York, talking and interacting with all different kinds of people, compiling nutty stories, saying nutty things, doing awkward things - these are the days, man, these are the days. I ran into two tourists once on Lexington Ave. and 46th; I approached them and asked if they needed help (they were looking like a map all conspicuously) and they asked me where Times Square was. I pointed down and right; told them it was right around the corner. I recognized their accent - Hungarian - and I had a conversation with them.
Chuck asked me to be his best man. I was so humbled; I got the call while having brunch at Bubby's w/Nick. He called twice; since this is rare, I though something must be up. Chuck would never call twice unless he had a burning question. So I answered the second time. Speaking of Nick, I'd called him the day before to figure out brunch logistics. Later that day, I'm walking south on Lafayette, in a random and rather barren block, and there's Nick - he notices me before I him - and his arms are outstretched. Fuckin random as fuck, and awesome to see you here!
Then there's the dude in the pastry shop. I'm in line for the bathroom. He makes some small talk about the long line, and I acknowledge him. Then he says, "Family is important, no? But good friends are great to have, too." I agree, and think this is jam. Then he jumps right into sexuality and comments that men need to release, release (he's looking for the word) then he says it - sperm! He also explains the female orgasm to me and actually acts it out (just the motion, no sound - this wasn't Katz's deli, he wasn't Meg Ryan). Then he tells me he can make people get on their knees at his command. I start tio tune out, but appreciate his genuine nature - he says, "you'll never meet another Tony!"
Today I received one of the greatest compliments ever - it actually was probably more directed at my mother - I'm seeing an apartment and the landlord says to the broker, "I might help this kid out, give him a deal, take the rent down a bit, because I like him. He's not a fratty dick." Then the broker started singing my praises. It may have been artificial, but I didn't get that vibe.
Such a good day. Such a good day.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
What You Want, What You Need
I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want. A relationship, a better figure; a higher salary, a "cooler" job. There are many things in this world that we all desire; whether or not we can get them is up to the stars, I guess. Some may say, "be persistent, follow your dreams, and if you want something bad enough, you'll get it!" Others, like the author of the well known book "The Secret," assert that if you visualize the things you want most in life, they will come to you; it's like you're a magnet, seeing the things you want and subsequently 'attracting' those things towards you.
All of the above may be true. But what really counts, in my opinion, is what you currently have and moving toward a mindset where you realize you might just have all the things you need in life right at this moment. Most of us know the great Rolling Stones Tune; the lyrics, "You can't always get what you want/but if you try sometimes/you just might find/you get what you need..." say it all. Why fret and preoccupy your mind with the things you wish you had instead of being happy in the moment with everything you need all around you?
Perhaps some us us don't have what we need, or what we think we need; for me, I have a great job, a nice enough apartment, a life in New York City, the love of family and friends, music each day, fresh air in my lungs, many laughs, eyesight, the ability to experience joy, pain, fear, tears, and also that calming feeling that everything will be OK. Some of those are wants that I in fact have; others are what I believe to be needs (shelter, a job (read: income), love, good people around me) and thus, I cannot be sad even if I tried with that mindset. In time, the things I want will hopefully follow; I refuse to waste time all distraught in the interim waiting period.
Sure, it is hard sometimes when question marks flood your head, things remain unknown, unfinished, or unclear, and you see the things you want on the horizon temporarily out of reach. What you must remember is when you just sit and 'exist' for a moment, you'll realize there are many things now through which you can find joy; many things in your life that make it worth living right now. Again, some of your wants may come; some may not. But as Mick Jagger said, inevitably, somehow, you find exactly what you're looking for in this wonderful world.
All of the above may be true. But what really counts, in my opinion, is what you currently have and moving toward a mindset where you realize you might just have all the things you need in life right at this moment. Most of us know the great Rolling Stones Tune; the lyrics, "You can't always get what you want/but if you try sometimes/you just might find/you get what you need..." say it all. Why fret and preoccupy your mind with the things you wish you had instead of being happy in the moment with everything you need all around you?
Perhaps some us us don't have what we need, or what we think we need; for me, I have a great job, a nice enough apartment, a life in New York City, the love of family and friends, music each day, fresh air in my lungs, many laughs, eyesight, the ability to experience joy, pain, fear, tears, and also that calming feeling that everything will be OK. Some of those are wants that I in fact have; others are what I believe to be needs (shelter, a job (read: income), love, good people around me) and thus, I cannot be sad even if I tried with that mindset. In time, the things I want will hopefully follow; I refuse to waste time all distraught in the interim waiting period.
Sure, it is hard sometimes when question marks flood your head, things remain unknown, unfinished, or unclear, and you see the things you want on the horizon temporarily out of reach. What you must remember is when you just sit and 'exist' for a moment, you'll realize there are many things now through which you can find joy; many things in your life that make it worth living right now. Again, some of your wants may come; some may not. But as Mick Jagger said, inevitably, somehow, you find exactly what you're looking for in this wonderful world.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Laurent
Today was an "Fmylife" kinda day, smack dab in the middle of an "fmylife" kinda week, where nothing seemed to go as planned. Granted, my spirits were up and overall I was pretty content, but it was comical, and slightly annoying, how luck just wasn't on my side.
You see, I was on a business trip with my boss; we began in Richmond, VA, headed to Baltimore, then hit Spring City, PA, Princeton, NJ, and finally ended up back to New York. It started with me forgetting to pack extra media kits; then I left the power cord to my laptop at our client's office in Richmond. Today, driving from Spring City, PA, to Princeton, NJ, I went the wrong way on I-76 and wound up somewhere out near Lancaster (damn Google maps! Shoulda went with that GPS for $15 extra). I was late for my PM meeting and I wound up getting a bit off track on the drive back to Manhattan.
Nevertheless, I did have good meetings (nobody was peeved at my tardiness) and I enjoyed Sirius XM's plethora of stations during the long drive. I always try and be thankful for what I've got - employment, health, happiness, cognitive ability, etc. -so today wasn't terrible. After returning the rental car, I stepped out into the crisp night air and walked west on 43rd street toward Grand Central. Again, generally speaking I was fine - there was a part of me that was, however, a bit weary, tired from the day, and cranky - like if I saw an acquaintance/friend I might want to pretend I didn't see him/her so as to avoid all the "catch me up" formalities.
Sure enough, I was approached by someone, as I always seem to be. Maybe it's that "I live here but I'm not FROM here" vibe I've been told I give off; maybe it's the Midwest approachability factor. People seem to approach and ask me for directions all the time. This gentleman was a young adult with curly brown hair and glasses. He said, "can you tell me where is the nearest subway" and I immediately recognized his accent. I asked him which line, and it turned out we were both headed to the same station, so I invited him to walk with me. I asked, "Vous etes de Paris?" (Are you from Paris?") and he said, "Oui!" I proceeded to explain to him, as I do every french tourist, that I was in France in 1998 and 2001, both with scool, and how I think it's a beautiful country. He was "presque vent et un" (almost 21 years old) so I made a joke about our drinking age. I told him the first time I was ever really "drunk," ironically enough, was age 16 in Paris. Although it was legal, I felt like a badass.
We spoke in French a bit more; he told me he was staying in a hostel near the theater district, and asked me why everything was "tres cher" in New York (very expensive). I laughed and said, "Isn't Paris also pretty pricey, too?" He said not as much as NYC. Before we parted ways, I shook his hand and asked his name. Laurent, he said, and he spelled it out. He was headed downtown as I was walking toward the uptown platform; he thanked me and we parted.
I'll probably never see Laurent again. He'll head back to France and continue his life; I'll continue mine on this side of the pond. Yet for that five, maybe ten minute period, we crossed paths, and the universe decided we should be "friends." Maybe that's all you get with some people; that brief dent in time to connect--I helped him out, we share a laugh or two, I brushed up on my french, etc., etc.--nevertheless I view the encounter overall as a reminder that even in the midst of a stressful/tiring day, it's all still jam and sometimes the world has funny ways of illustrating that fact.
In my case today, it was my brief but pleasant encounter with Laurent that reminded me just how great life is - that even if for a brief window of time, we can peer into the life of another, brighten their day, connect with them on some intangible level, and subsequently learn something. Although brief it was so refreshing and special; I thought about asking him if he was on Facebook, but decided against it. Again, some experiences and meetings should be left as is because they are almost more sacred that way.
You see, I was on a business trip with my boss; we began in Richmond, VA, headed to Baltimore, then hit Spring City, PA, Princeton, NJ, and finally ended up back to New York. It started with me forgetting to pack extra media kits; then I left the power cord to my laptop at our client's office in Richmond. Today, driving from Spring City, PA, to Princeton, NJ, I went the wrong way on I-76 and wound up somewhere out near Lancaster (damn Google maps! Shoulda went with that GPS for $15 extra). I was late for my PM meeting and I wound up getting a bit off track on the drive back to Manhattan.
Nevertheless, I did have good meetings (nobody was peeved at my tardiness) and I enjoyed Sirius XM's plethora of stations during the long drive. I always try and be thankful for what I've got - employment, health, happiness, cognitive ability, etc. -so today wasn't terrible. After returning the rental car, I stepped out into the crisp night air and walked west on 43rd street toward Grand Central. Again, generally speaking I was fine - there was a part of me that was, however, a bit weary, tired from the day, and cranky - like if I saw an acquaintance/friend I might want to pretend I didn't see him/her so as to avoid all the "catch me up" formalities.
Sure enough, I was approached by someone, as I always seem to be. Maybe it's that "I live here but I'm not FROM here" vibe I've been told I give off; maybe it's the Midwest approachability factor. People seem to approach and ask me for directions all the time. This gentleman was a young adult with curly brown hair and glasses. He said, "can you tell me where is the nearest subway" and I immediately recognized his accent. I asked him which line, and it turned out we were both headed to the same station, so I invited him to walk with me. I asked, "Vous etes de Paris?" (Are you from Paris?") and he said, "Oui!" I proceeded to explain to him, as I do every french tourist, that I was in France in 1998 and 2001, both with scool, and how I think it's a beautiful country. He was "presque vent et un" (almost 21 years old) so I made a joke about our drinking age. I told him the first time I was ever really "drunk," ironically enough, was age 16 in Paris. Although it was legal, I felt like a badass.
We spoke in French a bit more; he told me he was staying in a hostel near the theater district, and asked me why everything was "tres cher" in New York (very expensive). I laughed and said, "Isn't Paris also pretty pricey, too?" He said not as much as NYC. Before we parted ways, I shook his hand and asked his name. Laurent, he said, and he spelled it out. He was headed downtown as I was walking toward the uptown platform; he thanked me and we parted.
I'll probably never see Laurent again. He'll head back to France and continue his life; I'll continue mine on this side of the pond. Yet for that five, maybe ten minute period, we crossed paths, and the universe decided we should be "friends." Maybe that's all you get with some people; that brief dent in time to connect--I helped him out, we share a laugh or two, I brushed up on my french, etc., etc.--nevertheless I view the encounter overall as a reminder that even in the midst of a stressful/tiring day, it's all still jam and sometimes the world has funny ways of illustrating that fact.
In my case today, it was my brief but pleasant encounter with Laurent that reminded me just how great life is - that even if for a brief window of time, we can peer into the life of another, brighten their day, connect with them on some intangible level, and subsequently learn something. Although brief it was so refreshing and special; I thought about asking him if he was on Facebook, but decided against it. Again, some experiences and meetings should be left as is because they are almost more sacred that way.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Life is Good.
It hit me today, how lucky I really am. I'm listening to my roommate and other friend drone on about their jobs, how they seem to put in long, hard hours without seeing tremendous financial reward (granted, they each make a lot more than I do, and I know will be super successful someday) but the point is the here and now: I don't stress TOO much about my job, have a hell of a time, and make decent money. My roommate was actually wondering where the last 5 months of his life went because he's been working so much. I'm happy to say that isn't the case for me.
I pitch ideas at work for marketing campaigns, creative, "catchy" slogans and promotions that my bosses and our clients seem to like. It's a small company so I'm able to throw things out and I feel very "free" as opposed to chained down by some "corporate machine" larger than I. Love my bosses. Love my co-worker. The hours are reasonable, the pay is great - especially when I expense things. I also am able to make commissions. Socially, sure, I could be with someone. But I'm not. And I'm happy. While washing the dishes today, I thought, "Joey, be happy in this moment that you are truly single and free, because it won't be like this forever," and I also kept thinking about the minute I start to date someone, how I'll have to fork over mad cash to buy her things, and that's not appealing to me. Of course, for the right one it's okay--but for all the others, not so much.
How do we ever know who "the one" is? My very good friend recently broke off an engagement and ended a 9 year relationship. That couple was my "go-to" couple for love, happiness, and monogamy. Oh well. My friend is handling the issue very maturely.
The dude in my elevator last week said, "Man, I was watching this documentary where they take these little baby pigs and bash them into walls to kill them. Really disturbed me!" It would disturb me, too - cruelty to animals is something I don't like to think about and/or see. I was refreshed by the very straight way he told it; didn't preface it or follow it up with anything. It was genuine thought, something that was irking him and he just wanted to tell it to some other human being. I really enjoyed that. Not the part about the pigs, of course. You get the point.
My roommate may move to Denver. He is excited about it; I know this from his subtle mentions of it. He's not an outwardly emotional person, rather sort of an awkward person when situations get really emotional. I wonder how it will be when we say our goodbyes - truthfully, though, I love the kid and he's been an amazingly wonderful roommate. I will miss him. I know he'll miss me, too, and New York, and his family, but I wonder what's really going through his mind. He wouldn't be the one to say, "You know, man, I'm really gonna miss it here, kind of worried." He's just bring up 'Denver' every now and then as his way of saying, "I'm moving there, you fill in the blanks" Naturally, I did (or attempted to) fill in the blanks.
Bence is expecting me for the wedding in Hungary - I am also supposedly singing. I can't wait. Just one more reason that I life is just so amazing; I have a good friend, probably one of my best friends, actually (even though we've hung out for an accumulated 2 weeks in our lives) who lives over there. I cherish our friendship; I cherish all of my friendships, whether you're over an ocean, right here in this great city, or in the heart of it all.
I pitch ideas at work for marketing campaigns, creative, "catchy" slogans and promotions that my bosses and our clients seem to like. It's a small company so I'm able to throw things out and I feel very "free" as opposed to chained down by some "corporate machine" larger than I. Love my bosses. Love my co-worker. The hours are reasonable, the pay is great - especially when I expense things. I also am able to make commissions. Socially, sure, I could be with someone. But I'm not. And I'm happy. While washing the dishes today, I thought, "Joey, be happy in this moment that you are truly single and free, because it won't be like this forever," and I also kept thinking about the minute I start to date someone, how I'll have to fork over mad cash to buy her things, and that's not appealing to me. Of course, for the right one it's okay--but for all the others, not so much.
How do we ever know who "the one" is? My very good friend recently broke off an engagement and ended a 9 year relationship. That couple was my "go-to" couple for love, happiness, and monogamy. Oh well. My friend is handling the issue very maturely.
The dude in my elevator last week said, "Man, I was watching this documentary where they take these little baby pigs and bash them into walls to kill them. Really disturbed me!" It would disturb me, too - cruelty to animals is something I don't like to think about and/or see. I was refreshed by the very straight way he told it; didn't preface it or follow it up with anything. It was genuine thought, something that was irking him and he just wanted to tell it to some other human being. I really enjoyed that. Not the part about the pigs, of course. You get the point.
My roommate may move to Denver. He is excited about it; I know this from his subtle mentions of it. He's not an outwardly emotional person, rather sort of an awkward person when situations get really emotional. I wonder how it will be when we say our goodbyes - truthfully, though, I love the kid and he's been an amazingly wonderful roommate. I will miss him. I know he'll miss me, too, and New York, and his family, but I wonder what's really going through his mind. He wouldn't be the one to say, "You know, man, I'm really gonna miss it here, kind of worried." He's just bring up 'Denver' every now and then as his way of saying, "I'm moving there, you fill in the blanks" Naturally, I did (or attempted to) fill in the blanks.
Bence is expecting me for the wedding in Hungary - I am also supposedly singing. I can't wait. Just one more reason that I life is just so amazing; I have a good friend, probably one of my best friends, actually (even though we've hung out for an accumulated 2 weeks in our lives) who lives over there. I cherish our friendship; I cherish all of my friendships, whether you're over an ocean, right here in this great city, or in the heart of it all.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Personal Expansions and Recessions
Everybody's talking about the damn economy. It seems like you can't open a newspaper without seeing words like, "credit crunch," "weak economy" or "recession;" a conversation with a co-worker, friend, or acquaintance seems to always, inevitably, point toward the economic recession in which we are currently living.
Lately, I've been thinking and reflecting on economic expansions and recessions, and how, in my own personal experience, they have no relationship to "self" expansions and recessions. Those who know me best have heard me drone on and on about 2008; my face lights up, I smile, and just have to say, "It was the greatest year of my life!" Ironically, 2008 was a terrible year for the economy; America's investment banks crumbled, the stock market tanked, and people lost millions. Our country entered into a 1930s, Great Depression-like glum that still has no subsided. Yet, the year for me was phenomenal from start to finish; it was a year where I really found my place at work and took charge, learned more about myself and those around me, and was just in great spirits in general. Hell, I was practically walking on air on Monday, September 15; a day Wall Street called "Ugly Monday" as Lehman Brothers filed for bankruptcy.
I'm still in a personal "expansion" although America, and the world, remains in an economic "recession." However, there were times when the situation was reversed; people were making a killing in the market, families took lavish vacations, hired nannies, earned bonuses, and felt more secure. That time was not so long ago; the late 1990s and into the 2000s were generally viewed as prosperous economic times for this country. In 1999, I had a few personal "recessions" while the country thrived. The land of milk and honey meant little to me as a shy, awkward 8th grader with an f'ed up tan, whiteheads, and practically friendless.
Later, in 2003, I don't know if our economy was "expanding" per se, but I sure as hell was as a person. It was my first year in college, and the year was utterly blissful. In 2006, on the other hand, while some firms "expanded" at record rates (ironically enough, Merrill Lynch reported record profits in '06) I was going through a bit of a personal "downturn," experiencing definite personal recession.
land of milk and honey.
Lately, I've been thinking and reflecting on economic expansions and recessions, and how, in my own personal experience, they have no relationship to "self" expansions and recessions. Those who know me best have heard me drone on and on about 2008; my face lights up, I smile, and just have to say, "It was the greatest year of my life!" Ironically, 2008 was a terrible year for the economy; America's investment banks crumbled, the stock market tanked, and people lost millions. Our country entered into a 1930s, Great Depression-like glum that still has no subsided. Yet, the year for me was phenomenal from start to finish; it was a year where I really found my place at work and took charge, learned more about myself and those around me, and was just in great spirits in general. Hell, I was practically walking on air on Monday, September 15; a day Wall Street called "Ugly Monday" as Lehman Brothers filed for bankruptcy.
I'm still in a personal "expansion" although America, and the world, remains in an economic "recession." However, there were times when the situation was reversed; people were making a killing in the market, families took lavish vacations, hired nannies, earned bonuses, and felt more secure. That time was not so long ago; the late 1990s and into the 2000s were generally viewed as prosperous economic times for this country. In 1999, I had a few personal "recessions" while the country thrived. The land of milk and honey meant little to me as a shy, awkward 8th grader with an f'ed up tan, whiteheads, and practically friendless.
Later, in 2003, I don't know if our economy was "expanding" per se, but I sure as hell was as a person. It was my first year in college, and the year was utterly blissful. In 2006, on the other hand, while some firms "expanded" at record rates (ironically enough, Merrill Lynch reported record profits in '06) I was going through a bit of a personal "downturn," experiencing definite personal recession.
land of milk and honey.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
DELETE IMMEDIATELY
One day after talking with my boss, I went back to my desk and decided I needed to vent. Instead of discussing it with anyone I began, foolishly, writing an E-mail to my co-worker: "He's ticked about something again; I can't tell what because he's so passive aggressive. It's not good to hold it all in; I think one day he's going to walk through that door and machete massacre all of us." As if this isn't bad enough, I titled the E-mail "DELETE IMMEDIATELY." Now at that time, I was sending my boss about 20 E-mails a day, so naturally, when I type in the first letter of his name, Outlook mail enters the whole address in the line. So, in one quick, reflexive motion, I typed the first letter of his name, his E-mail address was entered, and I clicked 'SEND' not even thinking twice. Instantly realizing what I had done, I shot up from my chair, in a panic. It was a few minutes shy of our 11 o'clock meeting, and I was praying that either the E-mail didn't send or I could somehow intercept it. I went into his office as he's beginning to prepare for the arrival of our client; I'm scanning the room furiously for his BlackBerry. Suddenly, I hear a vibrating coming from under the desk. He slides his chair back, and I notice his BlackBerry is clipped to his belt. He takes it and says, "Joey, looks like I just got an E-mail from you."
Sunday, March 15, 2009
"No Service, No Tip" Becomes "No Tip, No Service" -- A Williamsburg Story
Last Friday night began like many Fridays nights past; meeting friends for happy hour drinks at around 7, and not making any concrete plans but rather waiting to see where the night would go from there. The next thing we knew, my friend and I had left the west side bar, hopped on the L to Brooklyn w/2 girls we'd met, and wound up outside an old warehouse for a true Williamsburg dance party.
Now I don't claim to know everything about Brooklyn's Williamsburg neighborhood, but here is what I do know: it's a quaint, relatively safe neighborhood a few stops into Brooklyn off the L. It's pretty chill, but trendy and thus feels pretentious at times; this area is also know for it's relatively high concentration of hipsters. We pay the $3 coat check, get our hand stamped, and enter into a dark and hazy space with loud house music blaring and silhouetted figures in clumps everywhere. The smell of weed lingered in the air; occasionally orange embers from cigarettes illuminated people's faces. The party seemed to attract a niche audience, a certain, "underground" crowd-I wouldn't have known about it if not for my free-spirited, "Brooklyn socialite" friend-a girl who I only describe as a socialite insofar as she know what's happening in Brooklyn at all times.
As I'm ordering a beer, I'm told the bar is cash-only. I put down $4 (no tip) for a Budweiser, but find I'm out of cash and with no ATMs in sight (I'd even asked the bouncer; no one knew where the nearest one was), I could either forget it or just ask my friend to borrow some cash. Maybe I should have done the former, but I inevitably asked to borrow $4 more and set it down this time in front of a female bartender. At first glance, this chick definitely fit the aloof hipster profile: wool cap, very alternative clothing, smoking a cigarette, and all the while staring at me with a stoic, almost disapproving, glance. As she set the beer down, she counted the money, and put her hand on the Bud. "You need to tip," she said. I looked at her first in disbelief, and then in wonderment, realizing never before in my life had any server said anything like this. Waiters, cabbies, delivery guys-you name it, we've all come in contact with hundreds-no one ever refuses service if you don't tip. The first thing that came to my mind, and then almost immediately to my lips, was, "are you serious? That's really unprofessional." She glared back at me, and said quite nastily, "does this look like a professional place to you? If you don't tip you're not getting the beer." She snatched the beer from me, and muttered something like, "if you try me, I'll get you kicked out of here." I was pissed at this point, and really did want another beer, so I asked my friend for another single. I called Polly Sunshine back, set the money down, and she almost tossed the beer at me, saying nothing and then walked away. I said, very sarcastically, "YOU'RE WELCOME!!" and then the male bartender said, "Fuck you! Don't give her attitude!" or something like that.
As a former server, I completely understand the importance of tipping and almost ALWAYS tip bartenders. For some reason that night, I didn't feel like tipping; maybe it was the coat check, maybe I was salty about not being able to use credit/debit, Ultimately, for better or worse, it is the choice of the patron, and I chose not to.
Now I don't claim to know everything about Brooklyn's Williamsburg neighborhood, but here is what I do know: it's a quaint, relatively safe neighborhood a few stops into Brooklyn off the L. It's pretty chill, but trendy and thus feels pretentious at times; this area is also know for it's relatively high concentration of hipsters. We pay the $3 coat check, get our hand stamped, and enter into a dark and hazy space with loud house music blaring and silhouetted figures in clumps everywhere. The smell of weed lingered in the air; occasionally orange embers from cigarettes illuminated people's faces. The party seemed to attract a niche audience, a certain, "underground" crowd-I wouldn't have known about it if not for my free-spirited, "Brooklyn socialite" friend-a girl who I only describe as a socialite insofar as she know what's happening in Brooklyn at all times.
As I'm ordering a beer, I'm told the bar is cash-only. I put down $4 (no tip) for a Budweiser, but find I'm out of cash and with no ATMs in sight (I'd even asked the bouncer; no one knew where the nearest one was), I could either forget it or just ask my friend to borrow some cash. Maybe I should have done the former, but I inevitably asked to borrow $4 more and set it down this time in front of a female bartender. At first glance, this chick definitely fit the aloof hipster profile: wool cap, very alternative clothing, smoking a cigarette, and all the while staring at me with a stoic, almost disapproving, glance. As she set the beer down, she counted the money, and put her hand on the Bud. "You need to tip," she said. I looked at her first in disbelief, and then in wonderment, realizing never before in my life had any server said anything like this. Waiters, cabbies, delivery guys-you name it, we've all come in contact with hundreds-no one ever refuses service if you don't tip. The first thing that came to my mind, and then almost immediately to my lips, was, "are you serious? That's really unprofessional." She glared back at me, and said quite nastily, "does this look like a professional place to you? If you don't tip you're not getting the beer." She snatched the beer from me, and muttered something like, "if you try me, I'll get you kicked out of here." I was pissed at this point, and really did want another beer, so I asked my friend for another single. I called Polly Sunshine back, set the money down, and she almost tossed the beer at me, saying nothing and then walked away. I said, very sarcastically, "YOU'RE WELCOME!!" and then the male bartender said, "Fuck you! Don't give her attitude!" or something like that.
As a former server, I completely understand the importance of tipping and almost ALWAYS tip bartenders. For some reason that night, I didn't feel like tipping; maybe it was the coat check, maybe I was salty about not being able to use credit/debit, Ultimately, for better or worse, it is the choice of the patron, and I chose not to.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
What comes to mind when we hear the word, "Titanic?" Might be a large oceanliner; maybe a giant iceberg, or even a collosal sea disaster. For most of us that came of age in the 1990s, instead of any shipwreck imagery, "Titanic" might actually evoke images of Celine Dion, a wrinkled old woman, or a hand in a fogged-up car window. Personally, I'll always remember how Richie Rich's butler Cadbury palyed the arrogant douchebag shipbuilder, and how Billy Zane--last seen as on of Biff's bully entourage in "Back to the Future"--was now the main antagonist in "Titanic" (besides the iceberg itself, I suppose).
The word "Titanic," and the event itself, have a whole new meaning for my generation. We, as shy little middle school boys, took our then girlfriends to see the film, watching as tears streamed down their faces and tried hard not to well up ourselves (or maybe that was just me); the sappy music, Kate Winslet's bare breast and bare ass, and the ever-cheesy "I'm flying" or "I'm the king of the world!" (both uttered in the same, cliched, front-of-the-ship spot); these things are how we remember "Titanic;" a tragic sea disaster wrapped up in an aura of love, passion, and a ubiquitous array of deep emotion. Like it or not, the movie is the top-grossing motion picture of all time.
I began to wonder how a real-life Titanic survivor would perceive the film; If I were one, I might be a bit offended. Regardless of whether or not you, or I, or anyone liked the film, there's no denying the film oozed love and romance; dare I say it's the "go-to" movie when my generation talks about movies with love as the central theme. But would a real survivor, having been there, having seen the ship overtaken by the seeinngly calm North Atlantic waters, having watched his or her mother, brother, or father die as the doomed ship tilted up, up, up, and then cracked in half? In the same way one cannot imagine what went through the heads of those who lept to their death from the top floors of the World Trade Center, one cannot imagine what the real sinking of the Titanic was like.
Now I know that love stories, especially with the right mix of music, sex, and on-screen chemistry, sell, and in the case of "Titanic," REALLY sell. I just think about it and wonder if the afformentioned mix truly tells the tale of the ship, it's people, and it's tragedy. Of course, James Cameron portrayed that mix through his two main protagonists - and through a very clever love story - but what if, in about 60 or so years, they made a movie about 9/11, or about Katrina, or some other tragedy, and stuck a few random teen heartthrobs in there, added a topless scene, created a catchy score, and then released it to the public? I'm not sure I'd go for that. I didn't witness 9/11 or Katrina live, but I lived through it. That said, a bleeding romance interwoven into a plot whose core IS tragedy-real, human tragedy- is, in my opinion, not the best way to bring to life an event of such magnitude.
The word "Titanic," and the event itself, have a whole new meaning for my generation. We, as shy little middle school boys, took our then girlfriends to see the film, watching as tears streamed down their faces and tried hard not to well up ourselves (or maybe that was just me); the sappy music, Kate Winslet's bare breast and bare ass, and the ever-cheesy "I'm flying" or "I'm the king of the world!" (both uttered in the same, cliched, front-of-the-ship spot); these things are how we remember "Titanic;" a tragic sea disaster wrapped up in an aura of love, passion, and a ubiquitous array of deep emotion. Like it or not, the movie is the top-grossing motion picture of all time.
I began to wonder how a real-life Titanic survivor would perceive the film; If I were one, I might be a bit offended. Regardless of whether or not you, or I, or anyone liked the film, there's no denying the film oozed love and romance; dare I say it's the "go-to" movie when my generation talks about movies with love as the central theme. But would a real survivor, having been there, having seen the ship overtaken by the seeinngly calm North Atlantic waters, having watched his or her mother, brother, or father die as the doomed ship tilted up, up, up, and then cracked in half? In the same way one cannot imagine what went through the heads of those who lept to their death from the top floors of the World Trade Center, one cannot imagine what the real sinking of the Titanic was like.
Now I know that love stories, especially with the right mix of music, sex, and on-screen chemistry, sell, and in the case of "Titanic," REALLY sell. I just think about it and wonder if the afformentioned mix truly tells the tale of the ship, it's people, and it's tragedy. Of course, James Cameron portrayed that mix through his two main protagonists - and through a very clever love story - but what if, in about 60 or so years, they made a movie about 9/11, or about Katrina, or some other tragedy, and stuck a few random teen heartthrobs in there, added a topless scene, created a catchy score, and then released it to the public? I'm not sure I'd go for that. I didn't witness 9/11 or Katrina live, but I lived through it. That said, a bleeding romance interwoven into a plot whose core IS tragedy-real, human tragedy- is, in my opinion, not the best way to bring to life an event of such magnitude.
Monday, February 23, 2009
New York Stories (An "Ass-tastic" Convo)
You never know what's inside another person's head until you talk to them - or at least until they've consumed enough alcohol to feel "safe" about disclosing their innermost desires, dreams, or in this case, their ASSpirations. Please read on...
"Woah, man! That girl's really hot," he said to me, as we stood there sipping or beer from solo cups. "I just wanna eat her ass!" Pause...soak what he just said in; then I begin to grin and chuckle a bit, not realizing then that I'd be recounting this magical, ass-eating tale for you all. This was Friday at 10:15 p.m. In order for this all to make sense, let me back up to about 4 hours prior.
I'd arrived at the bar to meet 3 guys; 2 were friends and the other was the friend of one of them. Whereas I knew guys A and B very well, I didn't know guy C at all (from now on, I'll refer to him as "C"). C was nice, but introverted and shy; didn't say a whole lot but just sat there while A, B, and I reminisced. We all enjoyed dollar drafts and subsequently played many rounds of beer pong as this particular bar offers multiple tables in the back. C and I were pong partners (and we actually rocked at it (I didn't want to say "kicked ass" b/c of the underlying "ass" theme); nevertheless, this isn't always the case when I "pong it up" so I enjoyed that. As the night wears on, we're downing the brew like water; more people enter the bar and soon, these sexy "shot girls" enter with whistles trying to sell these tiny, overpriced, 90% sugar, 9% water, 1% booze shots. Their bodies, and the fake hope of seeing them naked, are what actually sell the shots, er, juice.
Now throughout our pong tenure, C and I had talked A LITTLE; mostly just "nice shot" or "yes!" as we slapped fives. But, as this one brunette walks by, C starts pourin' it out; eating her ass was only the beginning. He proceeds to tell me about a girl he used to date and how, at one point while they lay in the 69 position, she began to lick his anus. Only in his recap he didn't say the latter part so eloquently, but, I suppose nothing about ass licking can really ever be classified as 'eloquent.' He went on, "it felt odd for a second, but almost immediately I warmed up to it, and LOVED it!!" I sip my beer, digesting all of this. "From that point on, whenever we'd see each other, I'd make it a point to do that and have her do it to me! Maybe it sounds a little sexually deviant, but I'm all about the ass eating, giving and receiving!!"
I'm not going to judge C; after all, we all have our fetishes and I appreciate and often get a kick out of the bluntness of others. I just find much humor in the fact that one minute, a person is as quiet as ever, awkwardly laughing every now and then; and the next, they are describing, in unflinchingly graphic detail, about how ass is their "cuisine du jour."
"Woah, man! That girl's really hot," he said to me, as we stood there sipping or beer from solo cups. "I just wanna eat her ass!" Pause...soak what he just said in; then I begin to grin and chuckle a bit, not realizing then that I'd be recounting this magical, ass-eating tale for you all. This was Friday at 10:15 p.m. In order for this all to make sense, let me back up to about 4 hours prior.
I'd arrived at the bar to meet 3 guys; 2 were friends and the other was the friend of one of them. Whereas I knew guys A and B very well, I didn't know guy C at all (from now on, I'll refer to him as "C"). C was nice, but introverted and shy; didn't say a whole lot but just sat there while A, B, and I reminisced. We all enjoyed dollar drafts and subsequently played many rounds of beer pong as this particular bar offers multiple tables in the back. C and I were pong partners (and we actually rocked at it (I didn't want to say "kicked ass" b/c of the underlying "ass" theme); nevertheless, this isn't always the case when I "pong it up" so I enjoyed that. As the night wears on, we're downing the brew like water; more people enter the bar and soon, these sexy "shot girls" enter with whistles trying to sell these tiny, overpriced, 90% sugar, 9% water, 1% booze shots. Their bodies, and the fake hope of seeing them naked, are what actually sell the shots, er, juice.
Now throughout our pong tenure, C and I had talked A LITTLE; mostly just "nice shot" or "yes!" as we slapped fives. But, as this one brunette walks by, C starts pourin' it out; eating her ass was only the beginning. He proceeds to tell me about a girl he used to date and how, at one point while they lay in the 69 position, she began to lick his anus. Only in his recap he didn't say the latter part so eloquently, but, I suppose nothing about ass licking can really ever be classified as 'eloquent.' He went on, "it felt odd for a second, but almost immediately I warmed up to it, and LOVED it!!" I sip my beer, digesting all of this. "From that point on, whenever we'd see each other, I'd make it a point to do that and have her do it to me! Maybe it sounds a little sexually deviant, but I'm all about the ass eating, giving and receiving!!"
I'm not going to judge C; after all, we all have our fetishes and I appreciate and often get a kick out of the bluntness of others. I just find much humor in the fact that one minute, a person is as quiet as ever, awkwardly laughing every now and then; and the next, they are describing, in unflinchingly graphic detail, about how ass is their "cuisine du jour."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Before I Forget...the Ben Chronicles
A daily recap of Bence's NYC visit:
1/24: He arrives, I pick him up at airport, we settle in, and grab dinner at Lombardi's. First NY slice of pizza.
1/25: Sleep in, brunch at Essex for the "NY brunch" experience. 3 free drinks w/meal! Walk across Brooklyn Bridge in the freezing cold, see WTC site, dinner at the classy Russian Tea Room. Meal, very good but quite pricy (thank God for 1/2 off gift certificates!) Then we stopped for a drink at the Hard Rock Cafe where we saw Shakira's music video for "Whenever, Wherever"
1/26: We meet for lunch at the Diner on 91st/2nd Ave. Ben has a ham & cheese omelet and really likes it, I'm pretty sure I have a turkey or chicken club. That night, we grab drinks at the Playwright Tavern on the outskirts of Times Square, head to the David Letterman Show. The energy was high and it was an all around good time; he was good but the guest was Mary Hicks (who was utterly boring) but I shouldn't complain since we did get in to see the show, after all. Continued the night at Chinatown Brasserie w/Jordan. 3 shots of Tequilla.
1/27: I get in late for work. I come home to have lunch w/Bence while simultaneously on a conference call (had my phone on mute; I had to listen and not participate, so that worked). Ben made me his mother's homemade French Onion Soup and also some bowtie pasta w/sour cream & bacon bits. Delicious. We went to see Phoebe perform at Gotham Comedy Club - a lot of good acts and themes were Obama & the plane crash in the Hudson the week earlier.
1/28: The day, weatherwise, was pretty shitty; freezing rain and skies were gray. I have a meeting around noon but get back to the apt. to eat lunch w/Ben. That night, we meet Joe Burns and Henry for a drink at Kennedy's; followed was the best steak we'd ever had at Delmonico's downtown by Wall Street. We discovered Renata, the maitre'd (spelling?), was actually Hungarian. Henry tried to flirt with the Croatian coat check girl.
1/29: I took the afternoon off and Ben and I headed to Brooklyn to the River Cafe; views were great and the three course, restaurant week cuisine was phenomenal. We continued on to "Top of the Rock" and took about a million pictures; we were there at that awesome 'twilight' time whe the sun's setting and the lights are just starting to come on, and we stayed until it was fully dark. We got a lot of really great shots! I even took a quick nap :) That night, we had McDonald's for dinner and saw Chicago, the musical, for free!! (Thanks to Heather and I's Ohio I.D's)
1/30: Up early to see "Good Morning America" - we met some VERY excited tourists from Mississippi who said, "quick, grab the kid from Huuuungary in ma pictuure!" We got a picture w/Kate Snow, and got to see the inside of the studio at Times Sq. including the control room. I tried to pitch my "date savant" segment idea. We returned to my apt. and took a nap; I woke up for a pointless 12 Noon conference call; we then met Meghan for sushi lunch at Ging. Ben didn't dislike the sushi, but it was not his favorite. He liked the Spicy Salmon Cruch roll, a favorite of mine and Meg's. That night, we took a walk downtown and stopped at Andres Cafe, the Hungarian Restaurant and Pastry shop on 84th & 2nd - Ben spoke Hungarian w/our waitress and 2 other gentlemen who were originally from the motherland. Later, walking downtown, Ben slipped and fell in the middle of 79th street :) luckily he was okay. We then bought Jack Daniel's, had about 10K shots each, began a wild, drunken, two man dance party, then headed to a super classy meal at Buddakan w/my sis, Drew, and Holden, and then continued the dance party we started back at my apt. We ran into a little hispanic boy w/a Bluetooth headpiece, "Sandy Jenkins," a crazy, drunk blonde girl that let Ben pose for a picture w/her, and a few others along the way. I should also mention we gave NY a free show as we sang all the way to the train, and on the train, "Self Esteem" and "Dancin in the Moonlight."
Bence also called me "Samantha" from Sex & the City on account of how promiscuous he thinks I am. Ha! :)
1/31: We woke up, both a bit exhausted, hungover; headed to Philly for the day. We met Mikey in Trenton, got a sixpack, and chilled. Subsequently, Ben enjoyed a "real cheeseteak" (we all did, but it was his first, I think) and then we hung out w/Mikey's gf in Center City Philadelphia. Mikey and I rekindled the "Rebecca Bindrim-Hatch-Betts" joke which became an instant hit once more. We headed back, had a low key evening, tried to meet Annie at Finnegan's Wake on 1st, but she never showed so we just sat and talked about life. Good times.
*I should note: I attempted to explain the whole "jam" theory to him; he started to say, "it's all jam" and I know he gets it. :)
2/1: We had brunch at City Crab, where I had a coupon for a free entree. The brunch was great; we then flew to Penn Station to catch the train to Huntington for Joe Burns's friends Super Bowl bash. Party was great, plenty of food, beer, & other treats - Ben and I won $20 each for guessing the score of the 1st quarter!! We also talked to Jerry, this really drunk "New York" woman, real rough around the edges, gruff voice, loud & outspoken, but absolutely hilarious. When Ben and I got back, we drank some more, rocked out to some music, and had a great friggin time, as always.
2/2: We went on the ferry to the Statue "Lady" of Liberty. It was great, complete with a signature "lighting the cigarette on her torch" shot. This brief trip made me think about my grandparents and great-grandparents coming to this country; I wonder what they thought as they saw Lady Liberty for the first time. It seriously gives me goosebumps(the good kind) just thinking about what that must have been like. 50+ years later, here I am, succeeding in part because of them, living on the island before us. We made it back to get to see Joe's rooftop balcony for about 2 seconds, then they all left. Ben and I then schlepped it out to Queens for, in my opinion, some of the best dumplings in the world!
2/3: Avenue Q night; we met Dan at McFadden's bar beforehand and then continued the party at Chipotle. Avenue Q was hilarious; we then came back and chilled for a bit. I don't think either of us went to bed before 1 any throughout that 1 1/2 weeks.
2/4: I met Ben for lunch - the soup man on 49th lives!! He then went onto the helicopter tour of NY (they offer a bunch of different options); I didn't go but got to see the awesome pics! I know it was a ton of fun for him. We met Heather for a quick second and then continued onto the ADA awards ceremony where Gloria Gaynor (yes, that's right, Ms. "I Will Survive" herself) played live!! It was really cool, random, but cool.
2/5: Ben and I chilled; I took the day off. I began to well up (I was really going to miss my friend!) and then took him to the airport. Saying goodbye was not fun, but necessary. I missed a call at some point that night; it was Ben, he'd arrived hom safe! What a great honor it was to have him visit - it was an awesome experience for both of us and will surely be one of the highlights of my life.
1/24: He arrives, I pick him up at airport, we settle in, and grab dinner at Lombardi's. First NY slice of pizza.
1/25: Sleep in, brunch at Essex for the "NY brunch" experience. 3 free drinks w/meal! Walk across Brooklyn Bridge in the freezing cold, see WTC site, dinner at the classy Russian Tea Room. Meal, very good but quite pricy (thank God for 1/2 off gift certificates!) Then we stopped for a drink at the Hard Rock Cafe where we saw Shakira's music video for "Whenever, Wherever"
1/26: We meet for lunch at the Diner on 91st/2nd Ave. Ben has a ham & cheese omelet and really likes it, I'm pretty sure I have a turkey or chicken club. That night, we grab drinks at the Playwright Tavern on the outskirts of Times Square, head to the David Letterman Show. The energy was high and it was an all around good time; he was good but the guest was Mary Hicks (who was utterly boring) but I shouldn't complain since we did get in to see the show, after all. Continued the night at Chinatown Brasserie w/Jordan. 3 shots of Tequilla.
1/27: I get in late for work. I come home to have lunch w/Bence while simultaneously on a conference call (had my phone on mute; I had to listen and not participate, so that worked). Ben made me his mother's homemade French Onion Soup and also some bowtie pasta w/sour cream & bacon bits. Delicious. We went to see Phoebe perform at Gotham Comedy Club - a lot of good acts and themes were Obama & the plane crash in the Hudson the week earlier.
1/28: The day, weatherwise, was pretty shitty; freezing rain and skies were gray. I have a meeting around noon but get back to the apt. to eat lunch w/Ben. That night, we meet Joe Burns and Henry for a drink at Kennedy's; followed was the best steak we'd ever had at Delmonico's downtown by Wall Street. We discovered Renata, the maitre'd (spelling?), was actually Hungarian. Henry tried to flirt with the Croatian coat check girl.
1/29: I took the afternoon off and Ben and I headed to Brooklyn to the River Cafe; views were great and the three course, restaurant week cuisine was phenomenal. We continued on to "Top of the Rock" and took about a million pictures; we were there at that awesome 'twilight' time whe the sun's setting and the lights are just starting to come on, and we stayed until it was fully dark. We got a lot of really great shots! I even took a quick nap :) That night, we had McDonald's for dinner and saw Chicago, the musical, for free!! (Thanks to Heather and I's Ohio I.D's)
1/30: Up early to see "Good Morning America" - we met some VERY excited tourists from Mississippi who said, "quick, grab the kid from Huuuungary in ma pictuure!" We got a picture w/Kate Snow, and got to see the inside of the studio at Times Sq. including the control room. I tried to pitch my "date savant" segment idea. We returned to my apt. and took a nap; I woke up for a pointless 12 Noon conference call; we then met Meghan for sushi lunch at Ging. Ben didn't dislike the sushi, but it was not his favorite. He liked the Spicy Salmon Cruch roll, a favorite of mine and Meg's. That night, we took a walk downtown and stopped at Andres Cafe, the Hungarian Restaurant and Pastry shop on 84th & 2nd - Ben spoke Hungarian w/our waitress and 2 other gentlemen who were originally from the motherland. Later, walking downtown, Ben slipped and fell in the middle of 79th street :) luckily he was okay. We then bought Jack Daniel's, had about 10K shots each, began a wild, drunken, two man dance party, then headed to a super classy meal at Buddakan w/my sis, Drew, and Holden, and then continued the dance party we started back at my apt. We ran into a little hispanic boy w/a Bluetooth headpiece, "Sandy Jenkins," a crazy, drunk blonde girl that let Ben pose for a picture w/her, and a few others along the way. I should also mention we gave NY a free show as we sang all the way to the train, and on the train, "Self Esteem" and "Dancin in the Moonlight."
Bence also called me "Samantha" from Sex & the City on account of how promiscuous he thinks I am. Ha! :)
1/31: We woke up, both a bit exhausted, hungover; headed to Philly for the day. We met Mikey in Trenton, got a sixpack, and chilled. Subsequently, Ben enjoyed a "real cheeseteak" (we all did, but it was his first, I think) and then we hung out w/Mikey's gf in Center City Philadelphia. Mikey and I rekindled the "Rebecca Bindrim-Hatch-Betts" joke which became an instant hit once more. We headed back, had a low key evening, tried to meet Annie at Finnegan's Wake on 1st, but she never showed so we just sat and talked about life. Good times.
*I should note: I attempted to explain the whole "jam" theory to him; he started to say, "it's all jam" and I know he gets it. :)
2/1: We had brunch at City Crab, where I had a coupon for a free entree. The brunch was great; we then flew to Penn Station to catch the train to Huntington for Joe Burns's friends Super Bowl bash. Party was great, plenty of food, beer, & other treats - Ben and I won $20 each for guessing the score of the 1st quarter!! We also talked to Jerry, this really drunk "New York" woman, real rough around the edges, gruff voice, loud & outspoken, but absolutely hilarious. When Ben and I got back, we drank some more, rocked out to some music, and had a great friggin time, as always.
2/2: We went on the ferry to the Statue "Lady" of Liberty. It was great, complete with a signature "lighting the cigarette on her torch" shot. This brief trip made me think about my grandparents and great-grandparents coming to this country; I wonder what they thought as they saw Lady Liberty for the first time. It seriously gives me goosebumps(the good kind) just thinking about what that must have been like. 50+ years later, here I am, succeeding in part because of them, living on the island before us. We made it back to get to see Joe's rooftop balcony for about 2 seconds, then they all left. Ben and I then schlepped it out to Queens for, in my opinion, some of the best dumplings in the world!
2/3: Avenue Q night; we met Dan at McFadden's bar beforehand and then continued the party at Chipotle. Avenue Q was hilarious; we then came back and chilled for a bit. I don't think either of us went to bed before 1 any throughout that 1 1/2 weeks.
2/4: I met Ben for lunch - the soup man on 49th lives!! He then went onto the helicopter tour of NY (they offer a bunch of different options); I didn't go but got to see the awesome pics! I know it was a ton of fun for him. We met Heather for a quick second and then continued onto the ADA awards ceremony where Gloria Gaynor (yes, that's right, Ms. "I Will Survive" herself) played live!! It was really cool, random, but cool.
2/5: Ben and I chilled; I took the day off. I began to well up (I was really going to miss my friend!) and then took him to the airport. Saying goodbye was not fun, but necessary. I missed a call at some point that night; it was Ben, he'd arrived hom safe! What a great honor it was to have him visit - it was an awesome experience for both of us and will surely be one of the highlights of my life.
Dear Gilmour...
Alumni: Please use the space below to share your news that we may include in Gilmour publications. Photos are welcome.
-Currently, I run an undercover drug ring out of my apartment in Manhattan. I employ 8-year-old illegal Mexican immigrant children to aid me in the aforementioned ring; their salary is 5 cents/day. I've also dabbled in directing adult films - and was actually awarded a "woody" (the equivalent of an Oscar for a major motion picture).
-Currently, I run an undercover drug ring out of my apartment in Manhattan. I employ 8-year-old illegal Mexican immigrant children to aid me in the aforementioned ring; their salary is 5 cents/day. I've also dabbled in directing adult films - and was actually awarded a "woody" (the equivalent of an Oscar for a major motion picture).
Friday, January 23, 2009
A friend and I were recently having a deep conversation; at one point, he said,
"What if there comes a point where life doesn't get any better? Like, for example, when I graduate college, I'll have no loans; if I'm in a relationship then, I'll be happy; and what about if I get/have a good job? I don't see it getting better than that." An all too typical fear; hell, I felt that way about 2009, as 2008 was the best year of my life. When we have all the things we want and/or all the things that make us happy, how can life be better?
I am living proof that like CAN and DOES get better. Before I start sounding too much like a motivational speaker, I will reference a time in my life where all was well. It was the Fall of 1999; I'd just started high school, had made a ton of new friends, was on the football team, was doing pretty decent in school, and was generally happy that I'd left Solon to start anew at Gilmour.
Then life got shitty.
Granted, I had my health, general happiness, and all the simple blessings one could ask for, but became too cocky in my situation and let it get to my head - the surge of friends, the "cool" parties, and the inflated and phony "status" of being on the football team (even though I wasn't that good; far from the best player) - all of these things went straight to my head and as a result, I said some stupid and self-righteous things, alienated some people, ultimately lost some friends, and felt, for a time, like a real loser.
Then life got better - I began to date my first "real" girlfriend, began to ground myself a bit, had a great summer, and began to relax a bit - this helped began to lay the framework for where I am today, I am 100% convinced. (Keep in mind that today, I am miles away from where I was then; in 5-10 years, I'm sure I'll be miles away from where I am right now).
The point in all this above? As cliched as it sounds, sometimes shit has to get worse before it gets better - it's always darkest before it's dawn, etc. - but the point is, it DOES almost certainly get better, in one way or another, and even even taking a second to contemplate how "it might never be this good" or "it might never be better than this" is wasteful and probably more harmful than helpful.
To give another example, 2003 was a phenomenal year. For one, I was able to bring 80 out of my class of 95 together for a year-end bash; at this party, all cliques seemed to dissolve and people mingled and interacted that I never thought would the week prior. The ensuing summer was totally jam; from graduation parties, to working as a caddy, to having success with my disc jockey business, then, finally heading off to my first semester of school - the year was a whirlwind of great people and experiences. At the end of 2003, I reflected on a year of sheer bliss - I was doing well at college, rowing crew, was friends with almost my entire floor, and more - honestly, I NEVER wanted to see that year end.
Then, as before, life got a bit shitty.
Maybe it was because the bar was set so high in 2003 that 2004/5 couldn't match up; whatever it was, I entered a dark chapter in my life - my confidence was at an all time low, I'd set ridiculously high standards for people, namely my friends, to follow (and became extremely upset when they were ignored), and I was often time just feeling angry, sad, and sorry for myself.
Then, a miraculous thing happened - I went home for the summer of 2006 and reflected on the year(s) past. A metamorphosis took place then, of which I can't completely understand but for which I am eternally grateful, and I began to be truly happy again. I'd met some new people, began to live more in the moment, began to truly understand and appreciate the beauty in others, in places and experiences, and just in life in general. I began to have a unique peace of mind, coupled with a general euphoria - a wonderful feeling that allowed me to feel every day that somehow, no matter what, things were/will be okay and that life is good.
What followed is what I am living in right now; after graduating from college and having a fulfilling senior year, I got a job which I truly enjoy, really feel like I've "come into my own" as an "adult," and learned a lot about people and how to deal with all different types. Most of my memories in the recent past have been happy; most of my encounters have been pleasant. I know appreciate, perhaps more than anything else, that everyone is different, unique, and wonderful in their own way - there's no use trying to "fix" anyone; instead, guidance and advice, where appropriate, carries a lot of weight. There's no use judging or condemning people right off the bat, because again, everyone is different and dealing with their own shit, most of which the outside world has no idea about.
I now wake up every morning with something to be thankful for, something to look forward to; I walk down the street listening to my iPod, usually smiling, as my soundtrack of life goes on. Cheesy, I know! But so true - a wonderful feeling.
Compared to 2007/2008, 2003 would be a mediocre year. Perhaps it was because I just had some growing up to do, some naivete to shed, or perhaps it was just because I didn't quite love and/or believe in myself enough to transmitt those feelings of love & contentment to others. I'm sure, again, in 5-10 years I'll report how much I've learned since I was 24 and how dumb I was then.
Who knows? Perhaps, just as history would have it, there'll be a "dip" in my happiness between now and 5 years from now. Perhaps not. Whatever happens though, and the underlying conclusion I draw, is that no matter what you think, life can and does get better. Going forward, I will aim to coast over the rough or "dark" patches and think little of them, and I will do this by remembering 1) that life is generally good and I have nothing to complain about and 2) that no matter what, if you adjust your mindset as such, life is just a curved line on a graph, exponentially increasing.
"What if there comes a point where life doesn't get any better? Like, for example, when I graduate college, I'll have no loans; if I'm in a relationship then, I'll be happy; and what about if I get/have a good job? I don't see it getting better than that." An all too typical fear; hell, I felt that way about 2009, as 2008 was the best year of my life. When we have all the things we want and/or all the things that make us happy, how can life be better?
I am living proof that like CAN and DOES get better. Before I start sounding too much like a motivational speaker, I will reference a time in my life where all was well. It was the Fall of 1999; I'd just started high school, had made a ton of new friends, was on the football team, was doing pretty decent in school, and was generally happy that I'd left Solon to start anew at Gilmour.
Then life got shitty.
Granted, I had my health, general happiness, and all the simple blessings one could ask for, but became too cocky in my situation and let it get to my head - the surge of friends, the "cool" parties, and the inflated and phony "status" of being on the football team (even though I wasn't that good; far from the best player) - all of these things went straight to my head and as a result, I said some stupid and self-righteous things, alienated some people, ultimately lost some friends, and felt, for a time, like a real loser.
Then life got better - I began to date my first "real" girlfriend, began to ground myself a bit, had a great summer, and began to relax a bit - this helped began to lay the framework for where I am today, I am 100% convinced. (Keep in mind that today, I am miles away from where I was then; in 5-10 years, I'm sure I'll be miles away from where I am right now).
The point in all this above? As cliched as it sounds, sometimes shit has to get worse before it gets better - it's always darkest before it's dawn, etc. - but the point is, it DOES almost certainly get better, in one way or another, and even even taking a second to contemplate how "it might never be this good" or "it might never be better than this" is wasteful and probably more harmful than helpful.
To give another example, 2003 was a phenomenal year. For one, I was able to bring 80 out of my class of 95 together for a year-end bash; at this party, all cliques seemed to dissolve and people mingled and interacted that I never thought would the week prior. The ensuing summer was totally jam; from graduation parties, to working as a caddy, to having success with my disc jockey business, then, finally heading off to my first semester of school - the year was a whirlwind of great people and experiences. At the end of 2003, I reflected on a year of sheer bliss - I was doing well at college, rowing crew, was friends with almost my entire floor, and more - honestly, I NEVER wanted to see that year end.
Then, as before, life got a bit shitty.
Maybe it was because the bar was set so high in 2003 that 2004/5 couldn't match up; whatever it was, I entered a dark chapter in my life - my confidence was at an all time low, I'd set ridiculously high standards for people, namely my friends, to follow (and became extremely upset when they were ignored), and I was often time just feeling angry, sad, and sorry for myself.
Then, a miraculous thing happened - I went home for the summer of 2006 and reflected on the year(s) past. A metamorphosis took place then, of which I can't completely understand but for which I am eternally grateful, and I began to be truly happy again. I'd met some new people, began to live more in the moment, began to truly understand and appreciate the beauty in others, in places and experiences, and just in life in general. I began to have a unique peace of mind, coupled with a general euphoria - a wonderful feeling that allowed me to feel every day that somehow, no matter what, things were/will be okay and that life is good.
What followed is what I am living in right now; after graduating from college and having a fulfilling senior year, I got a job which I truly enjoy, really feel like I've "come into my own" as an "adult," and learned a lot about people and how to deal with all different types. Most of my memories in the recent past have been happy; most of my encounters have been pleasant. I know appreciate, perhaps more than anything else, that everyone is different, unique, and wonderful in their own way - there's no use trying to "fix" anyone; instead, guidance and advice, where appropriate, carries a lot of weight. There's no use judging or condemning people right off the bat, because again, everyone is different and dealing with their own shit, most of which the outside world has no idea about.
I now wake up every morning with something to be thankful for, something to look forward to; I walk down the street listening to my iPod, usually smiling, as my soundtrack of life goes on. Cheesy, I know! But so true - a wonderful feeling.
Compared to 2007/2008, 2003 would be a mediocre year. Perhaps it was because I just had some growing up to do, some naivete to shed, or perhaps it was just because I didn't quite love and/or believe in myself enough to transmitt those feelings of love & contentment to others. I'm sure, again, in 5-10 years I'll report how much I've learned since I was 24 and how dumb I was then.
Who knows? Perhaps, just as history would have it, there'll be a "dip" in my happiness between now and 5 years from now. Perhaps not. Whatever happens though, and the underlying conclusion I draw, is that no matter what you think, life can and does get better. Going forward, I will aim to coast over the rough or "dark" patches and think little of them, and I will do this by remembering 1) that life is generally good and I have nothing to complain about and 2) that no matter what, if you adjust your mindset as such, life is just a curved line on a graph, exponentially increasing.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
James Gartenberg
James Gartenberg died on September 11, 2001. I never knew him; couldn't even identify his face in a crowd. Somehow, this name has stayed with me throughout these past 7 years, 6(ish) months, and it all began on the year anniversary of the tragedy.
I watched "Good Morning America's" 9/11 memorial coverage on the morning of September 11, 2002; I remember in the lower right hand corner, instead of the usual 'abc' logo, there was the number '9' followed by an '11' except the 11 was made to look like the twin towers of the WTC. They were playing video excerpts from the year prior as the disaster was unfolding, and one was of a man who'd called in to GMA from one of the towers. It was around 9:15 when James Gartenberg called in; I don't even remember what he did for a living, and I don't recall them showing a picture of him, only that he'd called in to assure everyone that he and his co-workers, inside Tower 2, were okay. At that moment, as America watched the billowing towers on morning news programs around the country, I think we really needed that confirmation that, although from the outside it appeared dire, from the inside, a voice of hope: things seemed okay.
Sadly, James Gartenberg died.
The clip was over, and they welcomed James's wife and newborn baby, Jamie, onto the show. What was said afterwards I don't really remember. All I know is that James Gartenberg represents, for me, that faceless hero/victim of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Luckily, I knew no one personally who perished, but James is the name I seem to remember and always follow. When they show a reel of victims names, post a banner with alphabetical listings of those who died, I always look for, and inevitably seek out, James Gartenberg.
I never knew the man, nor will I probably ever meet his wife or daughter Jamie. The only like I have to him is a faint, crackling voice over a phone line on the morning of September 11, 2001. That's it. Who knows what he was like; a loving father and devoted husband, or promiscuous womanizer with a mean streak. Maybe he was a broker or investment banker inside the WTC; maybe a cafeteria employee. He might have treated all around him with respect, or been the boss from hell. Either way, James's call that morning gave us a glimmer of hope, even though looking back the whole ordeal just got worse and ended in even more tragedy. Whether knowingly or unkowningly, James was a soothing presence that morning that remained calm although buildings buckled around him.
I guess that's the way it is, though; the connection we have with some people in our lives is merely a mention on the news, a name on the wall, or a fleeting glance on the street. I give people directions all the time if they ask me. Who knows, maybe prior to 9/11, I gave James Gartenberg directions. Guess I'll never know.
I watched "Good Morning America's" 9/11 memorial coverage on the morning of September 11, 2002; I remember in the lower right hand corner, instead of the usual 'abc' logo, there was the number '9' followed by an '11' except the 11 was made to look like the twin towers of the WTC. They were playing video excerpts from the year prior as the disaster was unfolding, and one was of a man who'd called in to GMA from one of the towers. It was around 9:15 when James Gartenberg called in; I don't even remember what he did for a living, and I don't recall them showing a picture of him, only that he'd called in to assure everyone that he and his co-workers, inside Tower 2, were okay. At that moment, as America watched the billowing towers on morning news programs around the country, I think we really needed that confirmation that, although from the outside it appeared dire, from the inside, a voice of hope: things seemed okay.
Sadly, James Gartenberg died.
The clip was over, and they welcomed James's wife and newborn baby, Jamie, onto the show. What was said afterwards I don't really remember. All I know is that James Gartenberg represents, for me, that faceless hero/victim of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Luckily, I knew no one personally who perished, but James is the name I seem to remember and always follow. When they show a reel of victims names, post a banner with alphabetical listings of those who died, I always look for, and inevitably seek out, James Gartenberg.
I never knew the man, nor will I probably ever meet his wife or daughter Jamie. The only like I have to him is a faint, crackling voice over a phone line on the morning of September 11, 2001. That's it. Who knows what he was like; a loving father and devoted husband, or promiscuous womanizer with a mean streak. Maybe he was a broker or investment banker inside the WTC; maybe a cafeteria employee. He might have treated all around him with respect, or been the boss from hell. Either way, James's call that morning gave us a glimmer of hope, even though looking back the whole ordeal just got worse and ended in even more tragedy. Whether knowingly or unkowningly, James was a soothing presence that morning that remained calm although buildings buckled around him.
I guess that's the way it is, though; the connection we have with some people in our lives is merely a mention on the news, a name on the wall, or a fleeting glance on the street. I give people directions all the time if they ask me. Who knows, maybe prior to 9/11, I gave James Gartenberg directions. Guess I'll never know.
Monday, January 5, 2009
December 23
So what's so special about 12/23? It's Christmas eve eve, which I suppose makes it "magical," "exciting," and probably one of the busier shopping days of the year. Other than that, this date doesn't seem to jump out or elicit any kind of response from anyone. Except me. For whatever reason, the 23rd of December is personally a memorable day from year to year; something noteworthy or important always seems to happen on this day. As my memory is freakishly good for remembering specific days, let's take a stroll down memory lane and analyze the last 10 December 23rds...
On 12/23/99, I was a freshman, more awkward and self-conscious as ever. I wrestled that year (probably just to prove I was an Huber-male, tough enough for any challenge) and remember arriving for practice that day only to learn one of my teammate's fathers had died suddenly the day before. He was leaving his office, on his cell phone, and collapsed suddenly in the lobby of his building. Watching my teammate, Harry, with his head in his lap bawling uncontrollably is an image I will never forget, although God knows I'd like to.
12/23/00 was exciting at first; I was going to the movies with my one guy friend and two girls; one of the girls I has a HUGE crush on, nevermind the fact that my current girlfriend and her were BFF. Bummer. Anyway, just the idea of being in a theater with her got the adrenaline flowin. So my friend Adam calls me 3 hours before the show and says he has to back out; his grandfather fell ill and they weren't sure if he was gonna make it. So, I had to cancel movie plans and felt it necessary to pay him a visit. On my way out, as I backed my mom's Mercedes SUV out of his driveway, I didn't see the parked car there behind me - tapped it slightly - but enough to break part of the bumper.
(So far I know your thinking, "man, December 23 is a shitty day for this kid! But I promise, happier 12/23's are on the way...")
12/23/01 began an tradition of Christmas Eve eve shopping. My sister and I went with a bunch of cousins that day; nothing out of the ordinary happened. At night, I went to my school's hockey game at Thornton Park. The following day, though, I danced around the Xmas tunes in my room and my neighbor just stared at me from across the way and laughed. I guess that story has "December 23" worthiness.
12/23/02 I'm at Pacific East Japanese cuisine with Chuck and my recently ex-gf; although we're broken up, we're still not over each other, and won't be for a long time thereafter. This was one of the most awkward dinners of my entire life; not because there was sexual tension between Chuck and my ex (which there wasn't) but Chuck and I fought over how to pay the bill for probably a good 15 minutes. He was stubborn, as was I. I can't even remember how we settled it; all I know is before long we were all back at my place watching "Cruel Intentions" with my mother. Talk about awkward; dinner didn't even compare.
12/23/03 back to the mall; Chuck was there. I worked out and watched Home Alone. I also wrapped gifts in the late hours while watching "Look Who's Talking." (When I saw this movie in the theater, at age 4 in 1988, I asked my mom, in regards to the beginning sequence,"why are all those tadpoles swimming, and why is one talking!?")
12/23/04 This was one of the best 12/23's I've had. We started a shopping tradition that's still goin strong - DeGrandis/DeFino shopping - and I'll never forget that first day. It was snowing real bad; the accumulation was at record level. We went to the mall w/the DeFino family, got our shopping done, and then belted out "Feliz Navidad" in the car on the way home. That night, we saw "Meet the Fockers" w/our parents and had dinner at Market Square Bistro in Bainbridge (?) Pretty sure it was called that back then, and that I have the town right.
12/23/05 DeGrandis/DeFino shopping part II. I had an argument with ex/friend/who know what she was at the time, and it shook me up. Also met Julie for coffee; we had a really nice chat. the aforementioned ex yelled at me for "ditching her to go have coffee w/Julie." She was right; I was kind of a douche there.
12/23/06 DeGrandis/DeFino shopping, Heather and I watched "A Muppet Christmas" w/our cousin Katie, and we made a 5 minute visit to the Resor residence for the annual Christmas party. I think we stopped off at the GP's to converse; all I remember is KGP getting real drunk and passing out. I also remember showing up at the GA basketball game clad in a Santa hat.
12/23/07 the day after the "Keggnog" blowout, where my folks flipped a shit because I was under the influence of alcohol and maybe pot (ok, pot) and so they had to kick everyone out, "Wagner boys, out!!" What a blur. Nevertheless, DeGrandis/DeFino shopping happened anyway; Duncan waved the "Let's Go Izzy" sign furiously out the car window as we drove. I chased Milo the dog around their yard; that night, my 3 friends and I went to a party in Solon. Weed may or may not have been present, and I did not not smoke it. I then ended up doing something unexpected; one of my female friends who has always been just a friend kissed me - I won't go too much into detail but the ensuing tryst temporarily changed the nature of the friendship. Luckily, all is jam and we are back to being just friends - no awkwardness (watch, my '12/23/09' entry will say, "so this friend of mine that I hooked up with 2 years ago...yea it's awkward now...)
12/23/08 DeGrandis/DeFino shopping again, then I went on some random errands at Marc's in town, then I went to cousin Patrick's basketball game. Something interesting happened that night as I hung out with my two friends; we watched "Family Matters" re-runs but something was different and, to make a long story short, the nature of one of those friendships changed; at first, I thought it would be awkward, but in fact, the relationship was strengthened because of the events that played out. I know it's a bit confusing, foggy, and undescriptive (is that a word) but that's the way it must be for now.
On 12/23/99, I was a freshman, more awkward and self-conscious as ever. I wrestled that year (probably just to prove I was an Huber-male, tough enough for any challenge) and remember arriving for practice that day only to learn one of my teammate's fathers had died suddenly the day before. He was leaving his office, on his cell phone, and collapsed suddenly in the lobby of his building. Watching my teammate, Harry, with his head in his lap bawling uncontrollably is an image I will never forget, although God knows I'd like to.
12/23/00 was exciting at first; I was going to the movies with my one guy friend and two girls; one of the girls I has a HUGE crush on, nevermind the fact that my current girlfriend and her were BFF. Bummer. Anyway, just the idea of being in a theater with her got the adrenaline flowin. So my friend Adam calls me 3 hours before the show and says he has to back out; his grandfather fell ill and they weren't sure if he was gonna make it. So, I had to cancel movie plans and felt it necessary to pay him a visit. On my way out, as I backed my mom's Mercedes SUV out of his driveway, I didn't see the parked car there behind me - tapped it slightly - but enough to break part of the bumper.
(So far I know your thinking, "man, December 23 is a shitty day for this kid! But I promise, happier 12/23's are on the way...")
12/23/01 began an tradition of Christmas Eve eve shopping. My sister and I went with a bunch of cousins that day; nothing out of the ordinary happened. At night, I went to my school's hockey game at Thornton Park. The following day, though, I danced around the Xmas tunes in my room and my neighbor just stared at me from across the way and laughed. I guess that story has "December 23" worthiness.
12/23/02 I'm at Pacific East Japanese cuisine with Chuck and my recently ex-gf; although we're broken up, we're still not over each other, and won't be for a long time thereafter. This was one of the most awkward dinners of my entire life; not because there was sexual tension between Chuck and my ex (which there wasn't) but Chuck and I fought over how to pay the bill for probably a good 15 minutes. He was stubborn, as was I. I can't even remember how we settled it; all I know is before long we were all back at my place watching "Cruel Intentions" with my mother. Talk about awkward; dinner didn't even compare.
12/23/03 back to the mall; Chuck was there. I worked out and watched Home Alone. I also wrapped gifts in the late hours while watching "Look Who's Talking." (When I saw this movie in the theater, at age 4 in 1988, I asked my mom, in regards to the beginning sequence,"why are all those tadpoles swimming, and why is one talking!?")
12/23/04 This was one of the best 12/23's I've had. We started a shopping tradition that's still goin strong - DeGrandis/DeFino shopping - and I'll never forget that first day. It was snowing real bad; the accumulation was at record level. We went to the mall w/the DeFino family, got our shopping done, and then belted out "Feliz Navidad" in the car on the way home. That night, we saw "Meet the Fockers" w/our parents and had dinner at Market Square Bistro in Bainbridge (?) Pretty sure it was called that back then, and that I have the town right.
12/23/05 DeGrandis/DeFino shopping part II. I had an argument with ex/friend/who know what she was at the time, and it shook me up. Also met Julie for coffee; we had a really nice chat. the aforementioned ex yelled at me for "ditching her to go have coffee w/Julie." She was right; I was kind of a douche there.
12/23/06 DeGrandis/DeFino shopping, Heather and I watched "A Muppet Christmas" w/our cousin Katie, and we made a 5 minute visit to the Resor residence for the annual Christmas party. I think we stopped off at the GP's to converse; all I remember is KGP getting real drunk and passing out. I also remember showing up at the GA basketball game clad in a Santa hat.
12/23/07 the day after the "Keggnog" blowout, where my folks flipped a shit because I was under the influence of alcohol and maybe pot (ok, pot) and so they had to kick everyone out, "Wagner boys, out!!" What a blur. Nevertheless, DeGrandis/DeFino shopping happened anyway; Duncan waved the "Let's Go Izzy" sign furiously out the car window as we drove. I chased Milo the dog around their yard; that night, my 3 friends and I went to a party in Solon. Weed may or may not have been present, and I did not not smoke it. I then ended up doing something unexpected; one of my female friends who has always been just a friend kissed me - I won't go too much into detail but the ensuing tryst temporarily changed the nature of the friendship. Luckily, all is jam and we are back to being just friends - no awkwardness (watch, my '12/23/09' entry will say, "so this friend of mine that I hooked up with 2 years ago...yea it's awkward now...)
12/23/08 DeGrandis/DeFino shopping again, then I went on some random errands at Marc's in town, then I went to cousin Patrick's basketball game. Something interesting happened that night as I hung out with my two friends; we watched "Family Matters" re-runs but something was different and, to make a long story short, the nature of one of those friendships changed; at first, I thought it would be awkward, but in fact, the relationship was strengthened because of the events that played out. I know it's a bit confusing, foggy, and undescriptive (is that a word) but that's the way it must be for now.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
2008
In the late morning hours of January 2, 2008, I sat at a Starbucks facing the street on 84th & 3rd, just 3 blocks from my office. I remember it crystal clear; I ordered a Gingerbread Latte (for whatever reason, my favorite "holiday" beverage) and sipped it slowly as I delayed going back to work after the week-and-a-half hiatus. To pick apart the timeline a bit, and for clarification purposes, I had just returned from visiting my cousins, aunt, and uncle in Steamboat Springs, CO; I'd actually been "stranded" there for New Year's which turned out to be a blast. A few days before I left for out west, back in Ohio, I threw a big "Keggnog" bash on the night of December 22. It was fun; however, I'd drank much to much eggnog, beer, and may or may not have smoked pot except it definitely was the former. So, my parents see me clearly under the influence of said things and begin to flip a shit and kick everyone out. It also didn't help that many of the guests were not of legal drinking age. Nevertheless, that was now in the past, and I stared out at the dismal gray sky as cars drove by and the world seemed bleak, cold, and for the most part uneventful. Little did I know that about to unravel was the greatest year I've ever known, with each day bringing record amounts of joy and happiness. I learned so many things in 2008 and had so many wonderful experiences, but how in the world was I ever supposed to know this with latte in hand at the 'buck that morning?
In fact, the year's start was not the greatest - I remember my boss yelling at me for being late on January 3 (I'd actually forgotten the office key in Ohio, gotten to the office early that AM, but because no one else was there, I couldn't get in and missed my bosses 9 AM sharp call). That Monday January 7, a woman glared at me with a more-evil-than-normal look even for AM Subway rush hour; you see, I'd stepped on her foot and she just about knifed my face off. Then, all of a sudden, things seemed to jam out beautifully. As I probably mentioned in blog's past, I learned a lot about myself, about women and dating, about single city living, and just "living on my own" in general. Although 2007 was my first official year as an adult out of college with a job, bills, an apartment and all that other "adult" like stuff, all I truly feel like I "came into my own" (this sounds cliched when people say it, but I swear it's true in this case) in the year 2008. There are so many things to mention about the year; I'm sure I'll forget half of the really relevant and/or anecdotal stories, but I will do my best to summarize day-by-day, week-by-week, and memory-by-memory accounts from '08 in the next entry. For now, g'night!!
In fact, the year's start was not the greatest - I remember my boss yelling at me for being late on January 3 (I'd actually forgotten the office key in Ohio, gotten to the office early that AM, but because no one else was there, I couldn't get in and missed my bosses 9 AM sharp call). That Monday January 7, a woman glared at me with a more-evil-than-normal look even for AM Subway rush hour; you see, I'd stepped on her foot and she just about knifed my face off. Then, all of a sudden, things seemed to jam out beautifully. As I probably mentioned in blog's past, I learned a lot about myself, about women and dating, about single city living, and just "living on my own" in general. Although 2007 was my first official year as an adult out of college with a job, bills, an apartment and all that other "adult" like stuff, all I truly feel like I "came into my own" (this sounds cliched when people say it, but I swear it's true in this case) in the year 2008. There are so many things to mention about the year; I'm sure I'll forget half of the really relevant and/or anecdotal stories, but I will do my best to summarize day-by-day, week-by-week, and memory-by-memory accounts from '08 in the next entry. For now, g'night!!
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