I'm still alive!
Despite my atypical silence, blogospherically speaking, I am still here!
I'm in NY, trying to get my bearings.
Among the highlights so far:
*fantastic yoga classes at Virayoga (www.virayoga.com)
*batty, old school jazz and ballet teachers at Bway Dance Center (www.bwydance.com)
*an absurd argument about Borat featuring an 88-year-old woman implying that I was a "self-hating Jew" for appreciating Sasha Baron Cohen [I pointed out that, at least in the instance as with most any other I can think of, the term "self-hating Jew" is a trope used by conservative, older Jews in an attempt to debase younger Jews with a sense of irony] - the best part: the argument took place at the communal table at Angelica Kitchen (www.angelicakitchen.com)
*Twelfth Night directed by Declan Donnellan and performed by some outstanding Russian actors as part of the Next Wave Festival at BAM (www.bam.org)
* a fantastic performance (as usual) by the Asylum Street Spankers at Joe's Pub (www.asylumstreetspankers.com)
*discovering that Chuck Mee is so in love with love and with recycling/deconstructing/reconstructing text that I had memorized some of The Mail Order Bride (currently at the Beckett Theatre on Theater Row) before ever having seen the show or laid eyes on the script.
No, Argan, not at all
what's left now is maturity
and the pleasure of everyday life
the sunlight in the morning, the trees
the lovely sky in the late afternoon
In spring the dawn.
In summer the nights.
In autumn the evenings
In winter the early mornings
the burning firewood
piles of white ashes
the ground white with frost
the things of life we won't be having for much longer
ah, but there you are
just having them now
breaks my heart
because to have them now
at my age
is only to remind myself
moment after moment
every moment of every day:
they won't last forever.
Yes, that's true
that in the end
the thing we love the most, this life itself,
we all will lose.
There's nothing to be done about that.
But, in the meanwhile, come, Argan,
it might even be you would take some pleasure
in being the one to give away the bride.
You and I are in that special time of our lives now
when we can bask vicariously in the pleasures of the young
and not have to suffer the disillusion
the bitterness and the anger
that will soon overtake them.
I sold my soul to a guerrilla marketing firm in exchange for some cash today (well, in fact, the cash - actually assuming the form of a check - won't arrive for about a month).
Anyone who attempts to convince me that NY and SF are comparable in terms of:
general cost of living
produce quality, availability, and price
accessibility and cost of organic food
will be wacked in the head with a loaf of sourdough or an Ess-A-Bagel (watch out, those things can kill you)
Among the things and people I miss:
Rhythm and Motion/ODC (especially Fusion Rhythms classes - there are some at Mark Morris in Fort Greene, but the teacher is on maternity leave - perhaps this calls for a sub, *cough, cough*)
easy bicycling everywhere
the prevalence of fantastically colorful clothing
the open space of my apartment
an abundance of cafes that aren't Starbucks
my incomparable PT/CMT, Brion
Well, there's an update.