The other morning I looked at a photograph on the window sill near my bed. It’s a photograph of me and my father that was taking many years ago. About four by six inches in a nice wooden frame. An old-fashioned desk-top photo.I usually glance at the photo every morning but that morning I looked at it. More than a glance. While studying it, I considered memories. Some internalized and some recorded. The photographs on the window sills, shelves and walls. So many replaced and housed on our phones, computers and various websites and social media platforms.
I am not one to often post solely personal content, but this one hit hard, and so I am looking for the good vibes from the Gotham Tribe to help ease my mind.
Rushashuna and Yom Kippur. Every Sept/October are the high holidays. Over the years the jewish population has migrated to different parts of the country, leaving New York/New Jersey mostly south for better weather and lower expenses. It has become very noticable. Synagogue 25 years ago they had multiple services going on at the same time to accomadate the crowds as well as childrens services. The holidays a few weeks after 9/11 are burned into my mind. 10 years ago it was noticably a smaller crowd. This years it was so noticable it was depresing.
One day last week, I took a different route from Penn Station to my office. Out of sheer routine, every day I walk up Seventh Avenue and make a right on West 35th Street. This morning, it was chilly and the sun was shining on 34th Street. Not on the Macy’s side of the street; the side with the stores.
I’ve noticed that on long airline flights, Americans—especially me—have embraced the idea that pseudo pajamas are perfectly acceptable travel attire, as long as we call them “loungewear.” Yet on some flights to and from the United Kingdom, I’ll see passengers who still seem to believe that flying is an occasion—men in blazers, women with full makeup and dresses—while I’m sitting there in stretchy pants wondering if I can pass them off as business casual.
I planned to review a Roger Daltrey concert I attended with my daughter last Tuesday; a(nother) proud parent moment involving her from last Monday moves that commentary to next week (at the earliest(. I already tweeted Marisa’s op-ed which appeared in
