"...a wonder"

 

"Once upon a time..."

A brief though hard rain blew through town late this afternoon. Winds tossed the trees back, and forth. Leaves filled the air. All that Wizard of OZ stuff on steroids.

Later that evening I went out for a walk on the Parkway. Eastern Parkway in fact. This street began as a deer trail. Later a Native hunting path. Then in colonial times a horse, and carriage track.

In the early 20th century an auto highway with parkland on it's sides.

Here is where I lived, and played as a child.

Time, and circumstance have brought me back to where I began.

So many changes. I recall all the Whites fleeing to their 'Burbs when Coloreds, and Hispanics started to come in. Now their grandchildren are here. Back from their strange exile in the land of Bar-B-Q pits, and Segregated schools.

They're welcome as all are here.

Walking tonight along the Parkway I heard the symphony of languages that so marks this Emerald City. Haitian French Creole Russian varieties of Spanish Romanian Mandarin various sorts of English,...I think I even heard a few bars of Standard English in the Symphony's adagio.

I couldn't live anywhere else.

I sensed autumn.

Just a very slight aroma. The fall scent was in the air after the storm. It was warm, and humid yes, but the breeze had an edge of coolness about. In the same way you sense spring in very late winter...a cold breeze yet with a faint warm edge.

The Sun, and Moon have chased each other through the seasons. We have lived another summer, and now prepare for short days cold nights, and the turning of the leaves.

A Wonder.

"...static"

I was just chatting with a FB pal about our lives, and what may be remembered of us. He linked me a video of an artist that shot an image of himself everyday for decades.

I unintentionally did this by being on the air for 36 years. I can listen to myself from my 20's through my mid-60's. I have six boxes of stored media holding some of this.
Some few may survive like old photos in the family. I wonder what my great grand Niece would make of distant Uncle Grampa riffing on what to make of iPods in 2002.

Or my live,...on tape walking the Hudson with radio comrades to NJ when the river froze from side to side in 1982.  We turned around a quarter way through as the ice was getting rather,...thin.

See below. My B'cast archives or some of it.
1977~2014 more or less. It could have gone back to 1969 if I could find the college radio stuff.
Times being what they are I sublet the roof of the archive for toy car parking.

I was listening to my 27 year old self doing station breaks announcements the weather, and interviews with assorted fanatics, and opportunists. How earnest BBC smarty pants, and utterly full of it I was. By my 40's to 60's I had advanced to my easy going bleep it attitude,...it was way more fun.

Every now, and then I listen to a random program. I just heard one from summer 1982. I was naively well intended. I'm younger than that now.

"...be safe be kind be brave"

So the holidays. For our very lives this year we must be separate. Such is life in a Plague Year. An odd year in our republic where near half including the head of state don't believe it's happening. This despite 250,000+ dead at our feet. 

America is a strange land. 

It was once a good land,...could be again. The Holiday season for some was a pole star to be looked forward to. I remember back when cars had fins milk was delivered in bottles children could wander safely, and you could have TV in any color as long as it was black, and white.

In that faraway time before we crammed near space with debris, and online meant either jump rope or waiting to get into a movie. I remember Uncles, and Aunts tons of cousins, and family friends pouring into each other's houses.

I remember our house. 

All done up as best we could. Our traditional six foot tree. Decorations some going back to the late 1800's mixed with flashy electric geegaws of the 50's. Dad, and the Uncles all gathered in the daddy spots yacking about the Army...WW2 was recently won. What routes they took to get here. They all came on the new Interstates that Eisenhower just built. 

My Ma, and the Aunts in the mommy space...the kitchen. Going on about how them uncles drove them crazy how the kids were just as nuts. Who was graduating college soon...a bunch of aunts did. Also who was having a baby. Babies. I remember babies showing up all the time. Endless new cousins,...even a new sister.

Meanwhile our dog Brownie was under the table listening. That's what dogs do for kids. They listen to what's really going on. Then tell all good girls, and boys what's coming their way. Good Dog!

Presents.

Besides tearing the house apart all me my siblings, and the cousins. We dreamed about the neat stuff coming our way. I mean Santa never let us down,...mostly. Yeah I was still into the guy then. Still am somewhat.

There was the Sears Roebuck Christmas catalogue that the mailman would slip us every year. Yep the instruction manual for materialist yule heaven. The thought was that Santa ran Sears. At least at Christmas,...made sense at the time.

Then Thanksgiving part two.

I would have gone on about part one, but my fingers are tired...com'on I'm an old guy now. Anyway it was mostly the same stuff, but with a Turkey, and family incidents. Christmas on the whole just had the Turkey.

Christmas Turkey.

As I sez part two. Before the age of fast food gluttony. Folks only pigged out once or twice a year. The Holidays. As had been traditional for over a 1000 years. 

Now we stay up all night eat constantly. Obliviously use tech that would seem magic to our folks, and us. But back then we just had each other. ...and it mattered.

The aroma of cooking filled our house. Near every house. We sat said grace then the passing of food all manner of wonders. Laughing stories the tree bright blinking it's soul to heaven in the background.  We were family we were friends we were together.

Remember these were Depression, and WW2 folks. They were making up for lost time. Those that could made sure the kids had at least a taste of security.

As my ma told me years later. She dad, and our aunts, and uncles. They gave us good memories on purpose. They knew what desperation want was, and what it did.

They deliberately created a sense of harmony despite everything. I was told years later we nearly lost our house...more than once. I found out in my thirties. They so loved us.

There was also music.

My family both sides played instruments. This was a common thing before mass entertainment. In the days when radio was cutting edge. Folks made their own music. Having instruments, and sheet music was common in every house. 

We sang carols. We actually sang.  My dad played the piano assorted uncles or aunts accompanied on violin,...even viola. Everyone sang. Even me shy as I was. We sang, and meant it because we really believed in things. Each other,...even a G-d.

Yule gatherings have been with us for 1000 years, and more. Beginning as folk solstice rituals. It's been passed on to many peoples each adding their touch to it.  Family friends gather at certain points in the year for a reason. A Blessed one.

Sometimes in war or like now in plague it must be put off. But it stays in our hearts. That, and as many are already planning. Next years gathering after the vaccine will be as is being said, "A Fucking Blow Out".

I have every intention of being around that that. 

Bless you all. Be brave be safe be wise be kind.  

"... It’s the little things"

Like whole living demographics. I’ve been outside of this culture’s main steam from birth. This gives one a unique view on many things. We see what the majority won’t because our lives our stories are different. We survive within mass of people who either don’t see us or if they do don’t care about us because they don’t have to.

They are like tourists wandering the forest eating poison berries, and mushrooms because they’re superior, and above nature,…till nature kills them. We just stay away from the poison. Even when we warn the lords, and ladies they ignore us…what could we know after all.

Many of us see the poisons’ of the mainstream, and stay away. While the settlers eat them, and die.

Don’t eat the bad fruit, but don’t fear death either is all we say.

 

 

 

I dreamed I was on 14th Street. There was no light in the City. I was sitting alone before a campfire at the intersection. A large Northern Brown Bear calmly walked by.