Witness

I went to check out the site of the crane collapse last night. I was curious to see it for myself -- maybe a macabre instinct, but an entirely human one. (Plus, I’m a journalist!) It was very strange, standing on Second Avenue and looking up into someone’s living room, where the wall opened in a gaping yawn.

It’s amazing how we live with certain dangers every day, without even being aware of them.

And speaking of dangers, for a compelling first-hand account of the Atlanta tornado, check out Jes’ blog here.

(Photo: Haculla street art, East Village, March 2008)

Memory

Things came crashing down in New York this weekend, both literally and metaphorically. I’m sure you heard about the crane that toppled about 20 blocks north of where I live, shearing the side off an apartment building and smashing a town house to smithereens. And then we had the collapse of Bear Stearns, one of our large investment banks. Shaky times in the big city!

Fortunately, none of this crashing struck me personally, at least not directly. I had a good weekend. I was able to get everything done and also sit a bit, as well as make some headway in the Beatles biography I’m reading. It was terrific to withdraw from the world for a while and just do my own thing. I really needed it.

I went to see a Moroccan movie, “Waiting for Pasolini,” last night with my friend Kelly. She and I served in the Peace Corps in Morocco together, and we enjoyed the movie’s depiction of village life. The movie was filmed near Ouarzazate, which looks a lot different from the part of the country where I lived, near Ait Baha. But all the scenes in the village nonetheless reminded me of my life in Morocco and made me homesick for those two years. It’s an interesting movie, if you have a chance to see it.

(Photo: Greenpoint, Brooklyn, Feb. 2008)

Watching

I came across this in the March issue of Harper's Magazine, and I had to share it with you. It's like something from Monty Python, hilarious and yet with a troubling "Big Brother" aspect.

TROUBLE HELIX

From a list compiled in 2006 by British police chiefs of more than 5,000 offenses warranting that the DNA of an arrested suspect be retained for life in a national database.

- violating king's wife
- violating king's eldest daughter
- violating wife of king's eldest son and heir
- throwing offensive weapon or matter at sovereign with intent to harm
- levying war against the sovereign in his or her realm
- buggery
- buggery with woman
- buggery with animal
- buggery with man in private
- buggery with man other than in private
- procuring a woman who is defective
- procuring a woman by false pretences
- abducting unmarried girl under eighteen
- procuring poison to effect miscarriage
- supplying poison to procure miscarriage
- placing nonhuman embryo in a woman
- counseling females to be cirumcised
- riding horse furiously in street
- wantonly disturbing inhabitant by knocking on door or ringing doorbell
- keeping a disorderly house
- obstructing railways
- removing buoys
- rout
- affray
- voyeurism
- sacrilege
- theft of wild creatures
- theft of wild flowers
- using explosive to take fish
- discharging stone or missile to kill or take fish
- handling salmon in suspicious circumstances
- cruelty to badgers
- disturbing badger when it is occupying badger lair
- possessing or controlling dead badger
- offering prizes to forecast result of future events
- opening an incorrectly delivered postal packet
- fraudulently evading bingo duty
- falsely pretending to be a deserter
- abstracting electricity
- failure to remove disguise when required by constable
- wasting police time

(Photo: King Kong mural, Greenpoint, Brooklyn, Feb. 2008)

Skating

I feel so out of sorts this weekend. I think it’s partly carryover from the excesses of the week -- my mind feels like a lake in a storm, rather than the legendary placid lake of Zen. I need to step back and retreat for a while.

Of course, this weekend is a retreat at the Zendo. But I’m not going today because I have some work-related stuff that needs to be finished. I’m also feeling some resistance toward attending a big, organized retreat with services, etc. What I’d really like is something like the Zendo’s monthly “just sitting” period, which is unstructured time on the cushion. My mind is hungry for that unbroken stretch of quiet. I’ll see if I can’t sit like that a bit at home.

Don’t you get sick of me whining about how busy and tired I am? Sorry about that. I’m actually not nearly as busy or tired as your average physician or teacher, I’m sure!

Bob and I saw an interesting movie last night: Gus Van Sant’s latest, called “Paranoid Park.” It was about some teenage skateboarders, and the film made amazing use of the ballet of skateboarding, with beautiful slow-motion footage of the swoops and jumps. The cinematography and use of music were interesting, as was the plot, though with all the reliance on photography the story moves slowly. I like slow, arty movies, so this was just right up my alley.

Funny how skateboarding is almost entirely a male pursuit, isn’t it? I mean, there are girls hanging around the skaters, but you don’t often see girls on boards. Why is that?

(Photo: Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Feb. 2008)

Party

I went on Wednesday to the annual New York fundraiser of the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association, which this year was held at the new headquarters of my employer. We started with a cocktail reception and then had dinner, followed by an unofficial afterparty at which I drank too much and stayed too long. I got home sometime in the wee hours of the morning - I’m not even sure when - and somehow struggled through a workday yesterday. I was so happy to be able to go to sleep last night!

Some photos from the event are at my friend Kenneth’s blog, featuring some of our special celebrity guests, as well as yours truly. I didn’t talk to, or even see, many of the celebrities. I was too busy yakking with friends, I guess. (Kenneth, on the other hand, is a celebrity magnet.) I did have a chance to tell Judy Shepard, Matt's mother, how glad I was that she could attend.

It was a lot of fun to catch up with friends and acquaintances I haven't seen in ages -- even the ones I didn't have a chance to talk to, but just spotted across the room. Nice to know everyone is still out there and apparently doing well!

(Photo: Red Hook, Brooklyn, Feb. 2008)

Dino

I found this curious piece of street art a couple of weeks ago. No one seems to know what it means. At first I thought it had something to do with Sinclair Oil, which has long had a dinosaur as a trademark.

Now, I'm thinking it's about extinction. A subtle reminder that it can happen to anyone or anything, even the most dominant creatures on the planet.

I'd be interested in your interpretations!

Common objects

One of my blog commenters recently mentioned Gary Thorp’s terrific book, “Sweeping changes.” It’s a Zen guide to housework, basically - how to be mindful and experience housework as an aspect of practice.

I’ve always liked housekeeping. I like washing my dishes by hand, feeling the soapy warm water; I like sweeping, which despite great frequency usually produces a ball of cat hair resembling a new small animal; I like dusting.

Among other things, Thorp reminds readers that all of these tasks are an opportunity to really connect with and enjoy your possessions:

“Use the time you dust to enhance your sense of touch. You can experience a feeling of intimacy with the things in your environment by caressing the objects before you, becoming familiar with their shapes once again, and remembering how they came into your life. As with sweeping, make sure that you give your full attention to those areas that would be easy for you to hurry over or abandon entirely. The idea is not to go over or around things, but to go into them.”

I thought of this passage this morning, actually, as I was making coffee. I thought briefly about my coffee maker. It was a gift from this person, in 1994, and it’s been incredibly reliable. When I think about how much coffee it’s made - nearly every morning for 14 years - it blows my mind! And it’s still going strong! (It’s a Braun.)

My toaster is another wonder. When I was in college, I bought an old ‘50s toaster at a thrift store in Tampa. It weighed about five pounds, a heavy metal thing with deco styling. I think it cost $2.50. Anyway, it’s still plugging away, and I make toast just about every day (toast greatly elevates the value of peanut butter). That toaster is probably the best investment I ever made.

I think this is part of what Thorp meant about possessions - thinking about them, experiencing their connections, enriches everyday life immeasurably. Everything in our houses tells a story.

(Photo: Red Hook, Brooklyn, Feb. 2008)