self portrait of Elisabeth Vigee Le Brun, friend of Marie Antoinette 8:40 am Christmas 2008 Thursday
"LOL It all began with stars in my eyes"It is a quiet fogged in Christmas morning. I have the windows open and am sitting here in 3 jerseys and a corduroy long skirt. The wind is coming from the west, I can feel it. But out my northern window it’s not stirring too much. So far I only hear birds, and a dog barking. O that wind from the west is picking up. Now it settled down.
Yesterday was a huge day. Bill took me swimming at Edith Ball pool. I was so happy to be swimming again, I had not stepped one foot out of the house for two days, and they had been rainy and cold. Because Monday morning the 2nd hand Chrysler leaked a whole quart of oil in 15 minutes, Bill knew he had to do something about it. So Monday was car drama. He took the Chrysler to PepBoys, and they diagnosed it and fixed it and his friend Jim was kind enough to drive him over when car was ready to go home. But it was so stressful that the next day, Tuesday, Bill wanted to take it easy and relax. That was the day of freezing cold rain all day. I turned the heat up high but spent most of it in my back bedroom, where heat doesn't reach, under 7 quilts in front of open window, watching “NCIS” marathon. Bill read in bed, and hung out with his kitty. Priscilla, the cat from outdoors, has not only adopted Bill, but spends the nights with him now. She likes to sleep late, one morning Bill reported she did not wake up till 11 am. When the dog is up and about she switches from Bill's bed to the table on the other side of it, which for some reason has tons of cotton clothes. Bill says she likes to spend her morning on her cotton mountain safe from the dog.
Yesterday morning, Christmas Eve, was still stormy. I did not write. I went on my news forum and chatted with posters. But when Bill woke up blue sky shone thru and even the sun, and I was happy because I knew I was going swimming today. By the time he showered and made his breakfast, there was so much sunshine I went to outside couch in backyard to lie in it. It was heaven soaking up its warmth and brilliance, and Bill brought his breakfast and joined me at the table. The only pool open was Edith Ball and it was only open till 2. So we decided to go early, and got in the truck and headed over there, and I had glorious swim and long long hot shower, and it was heaven and I felt great, and we got in the truck to go home.
Edith Ball Pool is in the middle of Reed Park, behind the zoo, just past Hy Corbett Field where all the baseball teams come for their spring training. To go back home, you have to drive thru all the huge parking lots for Hy Corbett Field, then thru a road in the park, and then you arrive on the big thoroughfare. And it was while we were driving thru all the huge parking lots behind Hy Corbett field that the truck acted up. He was not able to change gears. And he did not want to take it into heavy traffic of Christmas Eve when truck was acting up. So we kept driving around the parking lot, it is huge and empty, to see if he could get it to work. But it got worse and worse and finally he stopped and opened the hood to see if he could figure out what was wrong. He said "the nut is loose, if only I had a wrench and could tighten it, maybe that would do it." So I set off to try to find someone.
When the problem first began, just before, I noticed I was seeing stars in my eyes. This is something which never happened till I moved to Tucson, I don't know when it started, maybe a few years after we moved here. It doesn't happen very often, and I am always thrilled when it does. I really do not know how to describe it. It is like a star starting to form from the corner of my eye, and if I focus I can see the star form all the way. And then I try to be quiet and focus on the star. It doesn't last very long, usually about 10 minutes max, and I never know what brings it, it just seems like a wonderful gift. I don't know how often I have it, maybe 4 times a year, it is not that frequent, and seems to come at the oddest times. And just before Bill reported the clutch won't work, I had been watching the star form and reform in front of my eyes, and I was in ecstasy. Plus so happy from swimming and hot shower. So when the trouble started I still kept focusing on the star. And I did not panic, I stayed calm, and my confidence that all would be well stayed with me.
And I may have still been seeing the star in my eyes while he was working on the truck, but by the time he said "I need a wrench," it wasn't there anymore. The huge parking lot was deserted, but the gate to Hy Corbett Field was open. I decided to try to find someone. I walked in and there was a man coming back with his lunch. I said "my husband can't get the truck to start, he needs a wrench." And the young man came over to where Bill was. He said he is on his lunch hour. He was a very nice young man, he said his name is Ronnie. And I sat back down in the sunshine again. And he and Bill talked, and then he went back and got his friend Tom who had tools. And Bill tightened it, and at first it looked like it would work, but then it didn't. And I came over, and to my surprise, Tom had a very long braid down his back. He was also smoking a cigarette and I was dying for a cigarette.
I went back to sitting on the curb in the sunshine. I didn't have a cigarette, and so I was picking up handfuls of gravel and letting it fall thru my fingers and all over my skirt. I was content to be sitting in the sunshine playing with the dirt. Ronnie came over to get me, "your car is ready" he said. And on the way he stooped down and picked up a little rock. "This is for you." And it turned out to be an amethyst. I said "thank you, it is my favorite stone." And Bill had driven the truck all over parking lot. And I said "I see my car has arrived." We all giggled, it was funny to pretend Bill was my car service who had arrived to drive me home. But when Bill tried to put it in gear it would not work. The two men waved goodbye, it was time for them to go inside and get back to work. But before they did, I asked Tom for a cigarette. He was so nice about it. And it was a Winston, that used to be my favorite cigarette and I have not had one in a long time. So instead of playing with the dirt in the sunshine I smoked my long Winston and was happy, and I had my amethyst stone.
But Bill reported "it is worse now, the car won't go at all," and he had a card with the phone number for Mark and Larry service station where he brings the 2nd hand Chrysler. "They have a truck, call them and ask them to pick me up." So I went into the entrance of Hy Corbett Field to find Ronnie and Tom because I thought one of them might have a cell phone. And Tom appeared and I said "Bill can't get the truck to go at all, and I want to call the garage." He said the batteries on his phone are low, and he changed his position 3 times to get better reception, but he reached them. And I talked to the man who answered. And he said "we have no truck and there is no one here now, there are no mechanics here." So then I said to Tom "I can't remember my friend Jim's number but maybe this is it, can we call and try it." And he dialed it and said "it is ringing" and then someone answered and he asked if it was Jim and Jim must have said yes, so he passed the phone to me and I said "Jim, help, the truck won't move, we are stranded, come now." "Where are you and how do I get there?" he asked. So Tom got on the phone and explained and said "he is coming."
So I went back to Bill and said "Mark and Larry had no one there to help us but I remembered Jim's phone number and he is coming." And I went back to sit in the sunshine. And then Jim pulled up. Instead of his sportscar, he had driven the car he is baby sitting, a woman went to Los Angeles to be with her daughter and Jim graciously let her keep her Buick in his garage. He never drives it, even if his car is in the shop, this is the first time he drove it because he wanted a car big enough to take both me and Bill home, his sportscar is two-seater. He looked at the truck with Bill, but I saw him make a gesture which means "give up, it's no use." So then I knew they would not be able to fix it. Jim's idea was "leave the keys in the truck, let me drive you both home, call the tow-truck man, and he will arrive and bring the truck home for you." But Bill said "I'm not leaving the truck." Jim said "it could take 7 hours for tow-truck man to arrive, they are so busy." Bill said "I don't care if I have to sit here all night."
Jim and Bill have different styles of dealing with problems. Jim's car always breaks down, Bill is always going to pick him up. But Jim just leaves his car where it is. Even once in the middle of the biggest thoroughfare in Tucson, Jim said "I'm not going to stay out in this boiling heat waiting for them to arrive." He leaves the keys in, calls Bill on his cell phone, Bill picks him up and eventually the tow-truck man does arrive and brings it to Jim's mechanic. That is how Jim handles things but Bill is different.
So I got in the car with Jim. Jim couldn't understand why Bill would prefer to wait by truck. "He can go home, play with the dog, watch tv, go to sleep, it could be hours and hours, instead he said he will sit by the truck all night." And Jim said "another storm is coming in, and it will be cold very soon, is he going to sit in the dark and freezing rain, I would never do that." I said "Bill does things differently." My dad did things the way Jim does. We lived in a housing project in Flushing (actually an electricians co-op) and if something was broken, my dad called the office, then he left the front door unlocked, then he went in to take long delicious bath, and by the time he came out the repairman had fixed it. So I understand how Jim is, he is like my dad. But I have lived with Bill for trillion years now, and I know he is the opposite.
So I said to Jim "first take me to Royal Buick, that is who Bill always takes truck to for repairs." But they were closed. So then I said "take me to Cora and Floyd's, my neighbors, Floyd is mechanic, maybe he can come over and fix it." But when we arrived Cora and Floyd were just getting ready to go to a birthday party. Cora had her lipstick on, and her earrings, looked very pretty, was all dressed up. They were so sweet. It was like two angels. They were so sorry they could not help us, because they were just this minute leaving. Floyd looked at the Buick Jim was driving and said "Bill's pick-up truck is so light, why can't your friend pull him home." But Jim said it's not his car, he is not allowed to be driving it, and he has nothing to pull with. Cora and Floyd both felt so bad they couldn't help us out. But I said "it is fine, it was so sweet of them to want to, I feel so loved and secure by their loving kind helpfulness, and not to worry I will call tow truck." I got back into the car with Jim and he received phone call on his cell phone. My house is only one block away. And Jim wanted me to get out, go inside, call tow truck, and have them pick up Bill. I had thought Jim would do that for me from his cellphone in his car. Jim said "I can't, I just got that phone call telling me I have to be somewhere, I have no time, just go inside and do it." I said "Jim you have to help me, I am scared, I never called a tow truck before, I don't know how, I don't even know who to call." I said "who do you call?" He said "Red and White." I said "come in and help me." He really did not want to. He said "do you have a phone book?" I said "no, but I can look it up on my computer." He said "your computer takes 20 minutes to warm up." I said "now it is already on." So I typed in "Red and White Towing Tucson Arizona" and phone number came up immediately. I tried to talk to the woman but Jim helpfully took over when it came to explaining where Bill is. And then he said "you really lucked out, she said the man will be there in half an hour, maybe less." I said to Jim "don't you want to stop over and let Bill know a tow truck is on the way?" He said "no, the tow truck will get there before I will. So I thanked Jim a lot for his help and he was off. And I wished I could talk to Bill. I wanted to be able to tell him I had tried Royal Buick but it was shut down totally and not to bring the truck there, just bring it home. And then it dawned on me "I could call the woman back at Red and White, probably the man had not yet arrived, and she would give him the message, I am sure he is on cellphone." And the woman was so nice and she said "yes, she will tell him to tell my husband 'just bring the truck home, the place which fixes it is closed.'"
And I had 3 cigarettes in a row and then heated up the half of my bean burrito I had for breakfast. I was starving. And O Beanie was so glad I was home he was doing somersaults and would not leave my side. And I found my purse with my wallet in it because I knew I would have to pay the tow-truck man. This had happened once before. And I sat on the couch in front of screen door to frontyard with my Beanie and my cigarettes and my bean burrito to wait for Bill.
And my Higher Self said "he is coming now." And sure enough, I heard the sounds and I looked out. And our truck was on top of a flat bed, and huge truck drove it into our driveway. And Bill did not look that upset. A very nice young man, with the name John embroidered on his uniform, came out, and I thanked him for helping us. And I got out my wallet and he called in my credit card, and gave me a receipt and then got the truck off his flat bed and into our yard. And Bill said "thank you" and wished him a happy Christmas, and John said now he has to go home and cook a roast for 4 hours.
And Bill said how he first sat and waited, but then he got up to try to fix it again himself, and while he was working the tow-truck arrived. And John reassured him on the ride home that Bill did the right thing to call him. He said "a lot of people don't, and the result is their car breaks down in heavy traffic and they have to call him anyway, and on Christmas Eve everyone is in a rush to get home and they are passing everyone, he would not have wanted to try that."
I said "I'm going in to watch tv and relax" and Bill said "OK" but the phone rang and it was Jim. And I told him "Bill just got back" and he said "you got lucky." He just wanted to check up. And Cora had said "call and let me know how it worked out.” But if she was at a birthday party how could I call her. I decided I would call the next day. You always forget to call the people who say “call and let me know how it all worked out.” But I have been one of those where the person never called and I would have liked to have gotten that call. So I really did try to put it in my mind to call Cora. She and Floyd were so sweet and Cora said “I will be praying for you.”
And I was starving. So I heated up something for myself, and since the dog had not eaten his dinner dish whole time I was gone, I heated up his food too. It was the same food, chicken and rice, altho his had beef in it too and was much bigger bowl. I had cooked it up few days ago. And I got an iced cold Pepsi Cola and my bowl of hot tasty food. And Beanie's big bowl of warm tasty food I put down by the bed next to me, spread a little dishtowel where my pillow was, turned on the tv, ate my food and watched 8 episodes of "Top Chef" in a row. And when I could not keep my eyes open anymore, I turned my face in other direction and went to sleep.
Somewhere in the middle of the episodes of "Top Chef" Bill went in to make chili so we could have chili burritos for supper. I was still full from my two portions of chicken and rice and all those chocolate cookies I had for dessert, but Bill really wanted to share his food with me. So I made a burrito out of Bill's delicious chili and Beanie and I shared it, and he loved it, and so did I.
This was about 10 at night, Bill likes to eat late. He took his meal into his room so he could eat it in front of the game. He made chicken noodle soup with his and offered me some, but I wasn't hungry, altho it looked good. And I ate my half of the chili burrito and watched Beanie so totally enjoy his half. He is so cute. After he ate his half, he looked all around the plate all over the rug for morsels which might have fallen off.
I told Bill and Bill said "dogs love tasty food."
And then I just could not keep my eyes open for the last episode of "Top Chef" and I fell asleep.
O Beanie is burying his morning cookie now, right under the tree outside my window. He has spent all morning walking around with those huge dog cookies in his mouth, choosing his spot so carefully. Now he is filling in the hole with his nose. He is so assiduous. There is a whole big heap of fresh earth over his dog cookie. No one will ever find it. His cookie is safe....
"Honeycreek" by Jim Waid, Tucson artistTuesday, November 25, 2008, 6:56 AM
“Writing my Novel”
Well Audrey is proud of me. When she originally emailed me about novel-in-a-month I thanked her out of politeness. But she emailed back, “so are you going to do it?” And I think I left that email unanswered. Then she arrived with the book from Bookman’s (Bookman’s is our second-hand bookstore) by the founder of novel-in-a-month, on how to write a novel in a month. Audrey had read it and highly recommended it. I thanked her very much. But when she said “the sales slip is with it, in case you want to return it for another book,” my eyes gleamed. This was the week before the big election, my mind was totally taken up with that. I would just go on the computer to read election news, or talk about it with fellow posters on my news forum. However I had made the great discovery that the charity bookstore on way home from pool had used paperbacks for 50 cents. I hadn’t read a book in ages and ages because library is really out of our way, I was totally starved for reading. Without anything to read my whole life, when I was not on computer, was TV shows. Until I discovered there was a way for me to read books again, which was about a month before Audrey told me about novel in a month.
I began by buying every Agatha Christie they had, even tho I had read them all a long time ago, it was long enuf ago. O I loved them so much, reading was such a joy and those were the perfect books to read. I was so happy to be reading again. The first few times I only bought mysteries at the charity store, but the third time I went I noticed the paperback mysteries were in the same section as the classics and I bought Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austin. And after I finished all the mysteries and there was nothing left to read, I opened up Sense and Sensibility and began to read that. At first I found it unreadable. I would try to read a little and then put it aside in frustration, “this is torture” I said. But then I got used to her writing and I got caught up in the story, and I enjoyed what I was reading, and sometimes it was very funny. I got completely addicted. I really loved that book. I am sorry it ended. And this is what I had just begun reading when the month of November arrived.
I was spending my mornings at computer with election news, and the afternoons and evenings with Sense and Sensibility, the story of Elinor and Maryanne, two sisters, when England was still very rural, it was how the gentry lived.
I had decided I would do Novel-in-a-month, why not! It would bring me back to writing again, and it was an unknown and an adventure. And I told Audrey I would start a day or two after the election. I couldn’t imagine starting before, my whole mind was on the election. Audrey tried to convince me to start on November first the way you are supposed to, “surely the election cannot take up the whole of your mind!” she emailed me. But I still had it in my mind the election was Tuesday, so I would start on Wednesday.
Meanwhile I guess Audrey decided to do it herself. She had read the book by the founder of Novel In A Month. She had always wanted to write. She was a painter and had been to art school but she always wanted to write. And the founder had explained this is a good way to start writing. And he is right about that. It’s a great way to start writing. This is a huge favor to anyone who has ever dreamed of becoming a writer.
That made it a whole lot more fun that Audrey and I were going to do it together. I never had a writing partner and companion in that way. I loved it. Audrey was doing it by the book. She had her outline prepared and the characters, and the day before it was to begin on October 31, she got out her outline and looked at it, and all her characters and emailed me “Ready! Set! Go!” And asked me if I had looked at the book she had given me.
I didn’t answer the part of her email where she said “have you read the book I gave you, it has so much helpful information in it.”
And then to my own huge surprise I did not wait till day after election or two days after that. The election was on Tuesday of course, and on Sunday I sat down to try to write my novel. I got exactly nowhere. I described what the weather was out my window and what my yard looked like, and hoped something would come into my mind to write about, but nothing came into my mind. “That’s OK” I said to myself, “at least you broke the ice with writing again.” I hadn’t written in 2 months, it was good to break the ice. And I clicked on my news forum and talked about the election with everyone. And then went back to reading Sense and Sensibility.
And the next morning, I guess it was Monday, I clicked on my machine to go back to writing my novel. And again I described the weather and my yard, but this time it worked, a story came. I decided to write about Ruthie’s new love affair. And whether it was because I was reading Sense and Sensibility, which is about the love affairs of each of the two sisters, or because it is something that everyone knows, I thought “what a perfect topic for a novel, my friend's love affair, this is the classic novel topic.” And I got totally excited. I was going to write a novel and it was going to be about Ruthie’s new love affair. And so I wrote about Ruthie’s whole life, and this was great, I actually had a chapter, Chapter 1.
And I said to myself “I am writing a novel, and it is called Ruthie Has a New Love” and I was so happy. And the next day in the pool I told everyone about it and suggested they write a novel too, after all it was just the beginning of the month.
But for some reason Chapter 2 did not take off where I left off. There was no long flow of narrative. The first chapter had been the whole background to the love affair, the second chapter was the love affair. And I don’t know why that one didn’t work. It was very short and I didn’t have very much to say. I realize now that was the morning of the election. I guess I forgot all about the election when I sat down to write my second chapter about her new love affair and wasn’t able to get it off the ground.
Then we voted and went swimming. And I came home and read Sense and Sensibility.
And then it was the 3rd morning. And there was just no way I could sit at my computer and not write about the election. I knew I was taking my novel off course, but what else could I do. I had a lot of feelings about the election, because on the local level I had lost big time. I hadn’t gotten what I wanted and I got what I didn’t want. But by the time I finished that chapter I was at peace with myself about it all, it helped me.
And the next morning I just wrote about my own life again, I wrote about my yesterday. Since all my short stories had been about my own life, about my yesterday, when I emailed Audrey (she had been emailing me every day to give me pep talk about my novel) I said “I started it, it was going great guns, I was writing about my friend’s love affair, but I got off course, and now I am just writing about my yesterday.” And she emailed back “you always write about your yesterday, here is your chance to write a novel, do it!” She was completely dismayed that I had gone back to writing what I always write. And she told me about their word count and I should go register at the site, and no one is allowed to talk about what they are writing, or to show their writing to anyone on the site, they can only say their word count. And she told me about her word count and her plot and her characters, and asked “did you read that book I gave you, it will help you.”
And I went over and registered at the site. They asked for a screen name, so I chose Desert Broom. Altho Audrey thinks it is Desert Bloom, which is a nice name too. And because I had registered there, I got the first week pep talk letter they sent out to everyone, which I didn’t read but I was very glad to get it. I liked being part of this thing and it really made me feel part of it that I got it.
On the 4th day I knew I was off course and would never get back on course. Unless Ruthie called me again with an update about her love affair, there was nothing I could say about it at all. And so I just cracked jokes about my novel. I said “my novel has a first chapter about Ruthie’s new love affair, and at the end of the month she will call with an update, so it will have a last chapter about it, and then there will be nothing in-between, I will write about my yesterday for the whole novel.”
But then to my surprise Ruthie called that evening. “O Anne so much is happening it could be a book,” she said. “A novel” I said. Altho I sure wasn’t going to tell Ruthie I was writing a novel about everything she told me on the phone. And she told me all about the developments in her new love affair, and all the new surprise developments with her boyfriend in college who she had never gotten over, they are now on email together. And when she talked about him, she said “this is all such a secret, what he confided to me in email, you must promise not to tell anyone, not even Bill.” And I promised. But when she opened up the conversation “there are so many new developments, this could be a book,” my first thought was “O good now I have a new chapter for my novel.” And I listened intently to everything she said.
And the next day it all went into my novel. “Ruthie will murder me” I thought “if she ever finds out, but Audrey will be so pleased I introduced new characters.” The college boyfriend who I was not to breathe a word about, was the new character in my novel. And that evening Ruthie and I had tête-à-tête with our Higher Selves on the phone about both these relationships and what they mean in Ruthie’s life now, and what Ruthie is supposed to be doing. And so I had another chapter, I said everything her Higher Self said about Ruthie and the two men.
I thought “Goody! it is a real novel again.”
But there were no more phone calls after that. And so it was back to writing my yesterday and of course there was a huge drama about buying new computer for Bill, that was a major event in my life. I wrote up the whole experience of being in Office Depot. It was such a big experience for me, buying this computer and monitor and printer, that the next day I wrote it all up. And the day after that I could not even write. I tried to force myself to do it, and one sentence eked out. And I shut down the machine and went in to read. I had exhausted myself buying the new computer and then writing it up the next day.
We must have bought the computer on a Friday. Saturday I wrote it up. And Sunday I could not write one word. I took a day off, it was my first day off in writing my novel. It was the climax of the Full Moon too I remember, that beautiful Full Moon. Alas for me all that full moon energy went into the new computer. If my novel has any crisis point that is it, and it is about going shopping. Such is my life, but I don’t know if a novel it makes. And then I went back to my daily life in a far more low-keyed way. Just short dreamy chapters about my morning and my yesterday. The teeny uneventful things which pass thru a day. Listening to an old friend’s message on my answering machine, feeding the cat. But I liked doing it. I liked waking up each morning and writing new chapter for my novel. It was such a pleasant way to start a day. It seemed so much easier than trying to write a brand new short story each morning when I woke up, because a story has to have so much life in it to stand on its own. And now that Sense and Sensibility was over, and I was going to see if I could enjoy the other books at the bottom of the pile, I realized I just wanted something to read. And I thought “maybe that is all a chapter has to do, give someone something to read.” It is like writing without a pressure, no pressure to deliver. All you want to do is give someone something so they can keep reading, and things could be as easy as pie for me. Maybe it is a lazy man’s solution to writing. But after all these years of trying to deliver something in a story, I liked just meandering down my life, and writing down whatever comes. It is like drifting down a big river. I might have my line out, but some of the time no fish bites. But I am still enjoying the ride. I love it, in fact. And that is the whole truth. I love writing a novel and I don’t know why. Just that it is relaxing and fun and easy and enjoyable.
And I found out from Audrey’s email the novel has to be 50,000 words, 170 pages, and we end on November 30th. And I was now getting regular pep talks from them, which I was not reading, but I was glad to be getting. And one of the pep talks I did read a little of and I liked. He said “this is just to serve you, to get you writing, and however it serves you, it is doing what it is supposed to be doing.” And Audrey was still telling me about her plot and her characters and how she has to make a graph on her hard drive to keep track of all of them, and am I doing that too? But she has fallen behind in word count and has to rush to keep up.
And I wrote back “we are both doing fine in our novels and that is great” and “O Audrey I thank you from the bottom of my heart for getting me into this, I love it.”
And Audrey said she had registered her word count on the site. And yesterday morning, after I wrote that totally loopy chapter-- never have I been more at odds and ends with myself and that chapter shows it; every instinct I have says “take it out,” but I will leave it in, maybe novels need a loopy chapter-- I did the word count on everything I had written and entered it on the site.
And they make you post it all to prove it is that many words. I had found out from Audrey that for November we are not supposed to edit. We are only supposed “to write like the wind” according to Audrey. And after November 30th we are given one month to edit what we have written. So I took the whole mish-mosh of what I had written, 9/10ths with uncorrected typos, and posted it. They said “our robot counter will just count the words to verify your word count and then delete it.” Which is what happened. And it turned out I have 47,000 words, which is very close to what they want. In fact with that loopy chapter which I wasn’t sure if I was going to include, it would have put me over. And then they had me write the name of my novel. And instead of calling it “Ruthie Has A New Love,” I decided to call it “Daddy-o,” which means something to me personally but doesn’t mean anything to anyone else. But I thought “no one pays attention to the meaning of novels’ names anyway.” And they wanted a description of my novel, so I wrote a description. And they wanted an extract, so I put in an extract from my first chapter about Ruthie because that is the only one which reads like a novel.
And then I wanted picture for my book cover. And I tried to upload the drawing Layla had done of the belly dancer dancing, but I couldn’t get it to upload. And then I emailed Audrey “what is your name there so I can put you on my buddy list?” And I told her my word count is 47,000 because I like to blab a lot when I write.
And because Audrey was at work last evening with nothing to do, she went over and looked at everything about my novel. She saw my verified word count and guess what? To my utter surprise and amazement, Audrey is impressed with me. I don’t think anyone has ever been impressed with me or proud of me in my whole life. It is such a totally new feeling. I am stunned. She said “you might be the winner!” I had no idea this thing was about winning, that there is anything to win. And she said I have more words than the founder. That is what really impressed Audrey, that the founder of National Write a Novel in a Month, the man who wrote that book on how to do it, I have more words than he does. Maybe it is silly to be happy that Audrey is impressed with me and proud of me just for a lot of words. But I’ve never had this experience before. Nothing I wrote has ever been published. Even Audrey who has read every single one of my short stories on email for past 3 years, has never been proud of me or impressed with me till I had lot of words. I am going to email my mother that I have a lot of words, so she can be proud of me and impressed with me too. Altho I will send Audrey’s email along with it, to give her the hint that she is supposed to be proud and impressed by this. She might not know that, only Audrey knows that because she is on this site. And Audrey said her novel ground to a halt because so many other things in her life came up. Audrey works at a tv station, plus she teaches art, she has classes. She said she will try again another time.
And I sent her the drawing of the belly dancer Layla did, on email. And I sent her my password and screen name there, and because Audrey was at work with nothing to do, she turned it into a book cover and posted it under my screen name. Along with my description of novel, extract from novel, and WORD COUNT!! It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. That drawing by Layla is so expressive and feelingful, and dreamy, when Audrey put in Daddy-o in huge big block letters it overwhelmed the drawing, it lost its feeling. I said “let’s change to one of your watercolors of the desert mountains.” But Audrey said “I like the dancer.” She has my name on it as Desert Bloom, instead of desert broom which is a weed in my backyard. But maybe I should go with that name instead. Altho maybe I will switch to Palo Verde. I think I would rather be Ms. Verde than Ms. Broom, and the palo verde is the tree out my window, it grows all over the desert wild.
Audrey emailed back “don’t think about your cover now, go back to writing like the wind.” She is concerned I won’t make the 50,000 and make it over the top. She wants me to be a winner. LOL she is my coach.
And it is very nice to have a coach. I don’t know which I have enjoyed more in writing my novel, writing my novel or having Audrey as my coach. She’s a wonderful coach. Even tho she was so disappointed in me at first, I now surpassed her wildest dreams because I have more words than the founder.
Peppersauce Canyon by Tucson artist Jim Waid “Anne and Neil”
(from my novel "Daddy-o")
(written November 27, 2008)So yesterday I wrote about him and Ruthie, their relationship. Because the boyfriend you live with during college and after college and who you plan to marry, and who is the one who started your awakening, is a major relationship. For me it came to a natural end. I moved out, he was upset, but we stayed very close till Bill moved in with me, and Tania moved in with him, and have been best friends forever. We lost contact 8 years ago, but I called him last winter and it was a beautiful phone call. We were both lost in the glory of what we each had brought the other back then. I was so appreciative of what he had brought into my life back then at 21, and he was so appreciative of what I had brought into his. And we had helped each other over the years when we were close friends too. We were both writers. Altho Neil was writing his book on Marxism, I was writing short stories. But after Ruthie got me on computer, and I saw what God’s gift that was to writers, I got Neil on the computer and boy he sure appreciated it too. As soon as he finished his book on Marxism and the labor movement, a real book company wanted to publish it. They assumed he was a professor and wrote him a letter, “Dear Dr Cantos.” I couldn’t believe that Neil wrote scholarly text on Marx and Engels and the labor movement and publishers snapped it up. Whereas I was writing all my wonderful short stories and no publisher would go near it with a ten foot pole.
But a peculiar thing happened. Naturally Neil’s book had about a million quotes by Marx, and his publisher insisted he get permission for them before they could publish his book. And it turned out World Publishers, a small outfit on 14th Street of leftists, owned all the rights to those quotes. And when Neil called up Mrs. Appelbaum, as a formality, to ask for permission to use all the quotes, she said no. She said if you want to use the quotes you have to pay us $1000 for each quote, and since there were about a million quotes that was impossible. Neil called his big brother who had a rage, and said “take her to court! take her to court! that is outrageous!” Neil’s big brother was furious at her. But in the story Neil told me about the upsetting phone call with Mrs. Appelbaum, buried way down in the story, as just a minor detail, Mrs. Appelbaum had said “why didn’t you take your book to us first.” And suddenly I understood everything. Mrs. Appelbaum was being recalcitrant and difficult because she was envious Academic Press was going to publish it, she wanted the book, she wanted to publish it, and she was insulted Neil had not brought it to her.
“Neil!” I said, “you bought all those beautiful new clothes and you look so good in them. Just take Mrs. Appelbaum out to lunch. Take her to a beautiful fancy restaurant. You are so good at that, and can be so charming and classy. She is mad because she wants to publish your book and you didn’t offer it to her. All you have to do is take her out to lunch, dress beautifully, be absolutely lovely to her, and promise her your next book you will bring right to her.”
I don’t know if Neil believed me, but it was a solution he was willing to try. He wrote Mrs. Appelbaum a long lovely letter, telling her just how much the books from World Publishers have meant to him. There were enough compliments in that letter to her publishing company and to her, to make her head spin. I don’t know if he ever did take her to lunch. Because when she called Neil back, butter couldn’t melt in her mouth. She insisted she have the rights to the paperback edition of the book, which of course put Neil in 7th heaven. He never dreamed anyone would want to put it out in paperback, he was thrilled. And she graciously let him have all the quotes by Marx and Engels for free. And they are the best of friends. And he promised Mrs. Appelbaum, as soon as he finishes his next book he will bring it right to her. And she was gratified, and so was Neil. He already had a publisher lined up for his next book.
If Neil had held any grievance against me for breaking up with him 20 years before, I bet that made up for it. I had turned that whole situation around for him. Instead of now being impossible to get his book published, that was coming out, he was already preparing the paperback edition with Mrs. Appelbaum, and he had a publisher lined up for his next book.
And I had the gratification of seeing spirituality really did pay off. I had just started to be spiritual at that time, and I knew having a rage and going to war was not the best solution. It was the one Neil’s big brother suggested, but I had learned differently. Instead of seeing Mrs. Appelbaum as a monster, there was another way to look at it, and I was able to find it when I looked for it.
It gratified me and reinforced my belief in spirituality, that it was so practical, that I could use it to help my friend Neil get everything he wanted. Neil had been very insulting when I first started on this path. It had began with me praying, with me believing in God, and reading the Gospel of St John to find words of comfort for the terrible travails I was going thru then. I don’t know how Neil knew I was reading the Gospel of St John. Did I confide it to him? or did he see the open book in my kitchen? All I know is he said, “this is awful Anne, you are like one of the crazy women you see in the subway, who are always reading the Bible and talking to themselves.”
I was so happy to be able to help Neil, that I did not mention to him “I am not a crazy lady on the subway after all.”
Post script, I have read Neil’s book. Because it was written from passion, and Neil is a great writer, and did all the original research, it is a great book.
painting by Felix Pasilis, Tucson backyard Sunday morning, early, October 5, 2008
“Psychology” I
t rained in the night and there are big heavy dense clouds coming in from the north. I can see them out my window. Altho blue sky with grey clouds to the west. And a hint of sunshine from somewhere, I can see the sunlight glinting off a tree branch. O now it is full fledged sunlight coming from somewhere, I can see the wall on Caren’s shed is lit up yellow.
Rain always transforms our climate. I woke up to an early morning in Adirondacks summer instead of October morning on the desert. It was like a wonderworld for me out there. The sky is changing in front of my eyes. The huge heavy damp rain clouds have now become white masted with wispy grey coming out of them.
I had a lot of dreams but don’t remember any of them. Just a feeling that there were people and experiences going on. O yes now I remember, Danny Blumen my high school boyfriend was in one of them, and maybe they took place in New York. And there was some drama but I don’t remember the story now. A big drama, something was definitely going on.
And when I woke up and was lying there thinking, morning waking up, thoughts drift in and out of your mind. I noticed for first time ever for me, when a thought came in which upset me, and I thought “O no! now I have to go thru this!” Because for last few days I have noticed, each time an upsetting thought comes in I can’t get rid of it. It is like stepping in a pot hole which turns into a black hole, it swallows me up. And I was getting annoyed by it. It didn’t seem fair. Random bad thought slips in, why do I have to be stuck with it like this! I felt so at the mercy at any random bad thought which crosses my mind. So this morning when an upsetting one entered and I thought “O no I don’t want this,” I assumed I would get trapped in it again like quicksand. But to my amazement the opposite happened. I actually watched my mind change the subject. WOW I was surprised. It was so freeing. My mind just moved on to another topic. I loved it. It gave me confidence and made me feel good. My optimism increased. My outlook on life brightened. I began to have hope I could work with my mind in a more sensible manner.
And later when I was having my coffee and toast outside in backyard at picnic table, when I began to think about a friend I had had when I first moved to Tucson, Lizzie. That friendship began off like a house afire but somehow went south, it didn’t work out. And I started to have conflicted thoughts. Instead of going down a whole long path with them, and getting worked up-- you know, remembering how it all came down, reliving it in my mind. I didn’t do that. I nipped it in the bud. I just thought “is it because I miss her and long for her, or do I just feel guilty?” I must have asked myself the right question, even if I didn’t come up with an answer, because the next thing I knew, I simply said to myself, “everything I did was right at the time.” And then I dropped it and moved on to another subject.
Never once in my life before did I simply say and think “everything I did was right at the time.” Usually I go thru a whole major court case. Where the lawyer from the other side tells the whole story from beginning to end, with every conceivable detail. Then my lawyer mounts a defense, looks for loopholes in the prosecutor’s case. And then long laborious evaluation and summing up by judge. And the case closed. But it never is case closed. It is always re-opened on a whim a month or two down the line. lol what a drag!
It was so nice instead of going thru all that to just say “I did everything right at the time,” and move on. Hahaha I actually dropped the case. I realize now I have no idea of the truth of the case. There are still unknowns and perplexities in it for me. But the long drawn-out court cases in my mind obviously never settled anything for me, else why did it come into my mind this morning sitting in the loveliness of my backyard. So I may as well drop the case in a few minutes. Since trying to settle it got me nowhere. Better just to say “you had a relationship, now you don’t, big deal, it doesn’t matter.”
That’s another thing I have been noticing over the past week. It seems like for the first time I am beginning to distinguish in my mind between the past and the present. I’ll start going over something which happened in the past, and all kinds of upset feelings will emerge. And then it will hit me, “but this is not happening now, it happened long ago in the past.” It just seems like that is grounds for tabling the whole discussion. “It’s not happening now” I say to myself. And the urgency and life goes out of it. It becomes a shadow of a thing instead of a thing itself. It saves me from it.
It’s as if my mind is learning how to be more constructive.
Tucson painting by Felix Pasilis
"Adam" written Saturday morning, 9/20/08, 8:40 AM
I had big booboo to my feeling two days ago. I can’t tell how much of it was due to the thing of it or the shock of it. It was so unexpected and from such unexpected direction. My feelings were so hurt that to my own shock I burst into tears. I was as vulnerable to my feelings as a child. This is so rare for me these days, because I have put so much effort into learning ways to hold on to my happiness thru thick and thin. I have developed so many techniques thru so many experiences, that normally they are instantly triggered when something which threatens my peace happens. If I get bad news on email, even if it is knock-out blow, at the same instant that I am reeling, I am scrambling to keep my balance. Usually I am going down and trying to get back up at the same time. This doesn’t protect me from everything, I am not invulnerable, but I always put up a good fight and eventually I get my balance back.
This thing which caused such hurt feelings two days ago is not a bad thing in its own right, it is not like bad news or something going wrong. It’s just about feelings. It’s the kind of experience a 4 year old girl could have in nursery school, if she got yelled at by the teacher. In fact everything about it is identical to experiences I did have at 4 years old, when you are so completely vulnerable and so innocent and have no idea the world can be mean to you. I am sure it was the shock which left me wide open this way. It was completely outside my experience, and in a place and in a way I never expected.
The shock happened two days ago, so I spent all that day being comforted by my Higher Self about it. And I woke up in good mood yesterday. But I really felt like I deserved a big treat. I deserved a big treat because I had had big booboo. So my Higher Self suggested before pool I go to Tuesday Morning and buy myself beautiful sheets.
Because I spend a lot of time lounging in bed in front of tv, and eat there and smoke cigarettes there and pet my dog there, and drink coffee and sodas there. No matter how careful I am, the sheet in that corner always picks up lots of stains. I think this is because of my new thing, liking to eat while lying in bed watching tv. In New York my tv was on kitchen table, so I could always have my meals in front of tv. But here in Tucson, my tv is set up so I lie in bed and watch it. So to eat and watch tv at same time I have to lie in bed and eat. At first I found this very awkward. I had never eaten while lying down before. It felt peculiar and it was awkward. But now I am more used to it and I like it. I just love to eat and watch tv at same time. When I saw that no matter how careful I tried to be, my sheets were picking up so many stains, I decided I would try to buy black sheets. I never found any. But when I was in Grocery Outlet about a month ago, they had a sheet set, which was a very very dark brown. It was only $20 so I bought it and put it right on my bed and thought “O this will make everything easier for me because I won’t have to worry about stains anymore.”
Which is true, no stains show, but the problem is I find the color ugly. Everytime I look at it, I can’t stand it because it is ugly. And even tho it is 100 per cent cotton it is a rough cotton. I had to take off the dark brown pillow case, it was too rough on my cheek, and replace it with a very soft very pretty one I had bought in middle of summer. I didn’t care that it was soft blue with some pretty pastel stripes and would pick up stains, I could not stand the other one by my face. But I still had the sheets on, and every day they were depressing me whenever I looked at them.
So finally last week I decided “to hell with stains, I am going to buy pretty sheets, I want to be happy.” But Tuesday Morning is out of the way. But yesterday when Bill got up he said “I am not walking Beanie this morning, instead I am going back to my painting, we will have to go to Billie’s pool instead.” And Billie’s pool is very close to Tuesday Morning, I knew I was going to get my pretty sheets.
And instant we got in truck to go swimming I informed him I wanted to go to Tuesday Morning first. He hit the ceiling. Usually when he hits the ceiling about an errand I want, I am so wishy-washy about it. “If you don’t want to do it, fine” I say. I give him 100 ways to get out of it. But this time it was different, I wanted those pretty sheets, I wanted that treat, and I knew I deserved it, I wasn’t wishy-washy at all. I just said when I got into the truck “I want to go to Tuesday Morning first to get pretty sheets, I can’t stand the ugly ones I have,” and then just waited for storm to subside while he hit the ceiling. I had never told him about my shock and my experience, I thought it could upset him, and why should 2 people be upset, I wanted to contain it to me.
He got over Tuesday Morning pretty fast tho. It was loud burst at first, but he got over it fast and like sudden thunderstorm. I had planned out in my mind what I wanted. I wanted the pretty sheet set. I wanted to buy 2 new towels, one for him and one for me for swimming. In winter you do need a towel after shower, and we only have two I bought at Tuesday Morning last month. Also I don’t like the aroma of the body wash I bought there last time. It is supposed to be flower scent and I just don’t like it. I saw the little bottles with fruit scent there last time and I decided I would buy that this time, a package with six little bottles of different fruit scent. I was very clear on what I wanted to buy there, because his sitting in hot parking lot, I didn’t want to be long. Plus I didn’t want to forget what I wanted, because as you can see getting him to go back there is not so easy.
I was hoping that wonderful woman who helped me find the towels last time, so big so luxurious so wonderful at such a great bargain, and those wonderful soft pillowcases, so pretty, so sweet on my cheek and at such amazing bargain, would be there to help me choose the sheets. But I didn’t see her and went over to the sheet section myself. I had decided this time I would choose a pretty pattern. But as I was looking at them she arrived, I recognized her.
I told her how happy she had made me last time, that everything she chose for me had made me so happy, and I explained about wanting new sheets now, and why. I told her the whole story. And she instantly put her hands on two sheet sets which she thought were the best value. One was an attractive blue with brocade looking design on it, so it wasn’t just one blue, I liked it. And the other seemed to be tan. I so wanted to get away from brown after my bad experience, and brown is not my color anyway, blue is. I am a blue girl, not a brown girl. But she said “this one is the same price as the blue one and it is 500 thread count, the other is 450.” And it’s true the original price was much higher than the blue set, altho the prices at Tuesday Morning were the same. It was clear this was the one she recommended for me. “Because it’s a better value?” I said. “Yes” she said “500 thread count.” Whatever that means. So I bought the one she suggested, I trust her.
When we got to pool parking lot Bill went right off to swim, but I wanted to organize my stuff. I put the two towels I bought behind seat because they are for emergency for swimming if our towels are wet from rain in winter. I put the box of body wash with my swim stuff because that is for shower after swimming. And I put the sheet set placed to take into house when I got home. And then when I was all ready to go swimming myself, I saw Adam arrive for his swim on his bicycle in bare feet.
“How are you?” he said. “Great” I said, which meant a lot to me to say. I had been so upset the day before ‘bout the booboo to my feelings, but when I had woke up next morning, feeling OK again, I had read Gloria’s “Letter from God.” Where God had stressed how important it is to be happy because happiness is contagious (like measles) and you want to spread happiness wherever you go. I really wanted to carry out God’s request, to bring happiness to others by being happy myself. So I felt good about saying “great” when Adam said “how are you?”
Adam said his kitty cat went to Heaven yesterday. He said it came out of nowhere, one minute she was fine, then she was so sick, then she went to Heaven. I don’t know how many cats Adam has, he said “one of my kitty cats.” Of course I knew all about that booboo, my summer had started off with booboo about Lulu. My heart went right out to Adam. He said “the only thing which heals the hurt is time.” I said “that’s true, we went thru it with our dog Lulu in July, the hurt lasted a month, by the second month I was OK, this is the shortest I have ever been able to get it down to.”
For me it is absolute conviction that everyone and all animals live forever, so Lulu is perfectly happy, perfectly alive, perfectly enjoying herself in Heaven now. I forget that not everyone sees it that way. What was interesting was Adam feeling and reasoning his way to it, as we stood on sidewalk in front of pool. He was still astraddle his bicycle, with his bare feet.
He said “I think it is the same for animals as it is for people. We have physical body and astral body and soul body and all the way up, and at highest level is our spirit body always trying to help us and guide us.” Adam was explaining why he thinks we live forever and so do our animals. But he got so interested in his explanation to me, explaining how it all works, that he said once when he was on wrestling team in high school, the practice was so grueling and so exhausting, that when he got home and lied down, he actually started to have an out of body experience. “Instantly I hit the panic button” he said. “It scared me but I did see how you could be out of your body, I experienced it, but I hit the panic button right away to stop it.” I said “we all believe our own experience and you experienced we are more than our body.”
Adam was explaining to me about consciousness. I had already read all this way back when I was first learning stuff, so I knew it all already, but I found it very interesting that Adam was such a good explainer of it. I never could explain it that well. I don’t think I could explain it at all. When he started explaining about consciousness, and how consciousness exists on so many levels, all the way up, I actually saw it before my eyes. I could see how they are all going on at same time. And it all depends where we put our focus. Like a building with 100 floors, but spending our time on second floor. Hahaha but we could take elevator to 100th floor. Our consciousness does go all the way up.
Then when Adam finished telling me the story of what happened after wrestling practice when he was in high school and how he hit the panic button, he interrupted his conversation to say “I better take my swim or my mom will worry about me.”
Like many in Tucson, like my friend Jim who took complete care of his bedridden 99 year old mother till she went to Heaven this past winter, Adam too cares for his very aged bedridden mother at home. But Adam has a problem Jim never had. Which is if Adam does not arrive back home instant the time he says he will be home, his mom panics and calls the police.
Obviously she has a problem. Adam is a 45 year old man, 45 year old men do not get kidnapped on way home from swim pool which is only 4 blocks from their house. It has imposed a lot of limitations on Adam’s going out. For instance he is passionate about UFOs, and Bill said there is monthly MUFON meeting at Wilmot library on 2nd Saturday of every month about UFOs. But Adam cannot be gone that long, his mom would call the cops.
But you have to hand it to Adam. He can’t go anywhere because his mom calls the cops. His beloved kittycat went to Heaven yesterday. And yet his wondrous curiosity, interest, passion for life, love of understanding and explaining, and happy buoyant spirit was all over his face yesterday afternoon. Adam’s happiness was contagious to me.... He is the one who healed up my booboo totally and completely, as we stood on hot sidewalk in front of pool yesterday. And I did have lovely swim....
Ronald De Nota painting
"Riomar Cafe on Little West 12th Street, NYC, 1998" Monday, August 25, 2008, 6:45 am“George” Last evening it hit me I had never written about George. I didn’t see how that was possible, but it is. Of course I want to write about George. He was a friend of mine and he was a friend of my dogs.
I am sure anyone who lived in the East Village in the ‘60s or the ‘70s or the ‘80s or the ‘90s would know George. I don’t know when he moved there, and I don’t know how long he stayed. In my mind there is no beginning and no end to George. I assume he must have been there forever. Altho of course he was born in Germany (I think) and had thick accent, so I don’t know when he came over. If you say to George “how old are you? what country did you come from? where did you go to high school?” If you ask him anything personal, he will not answer.
I know George is Jewish because when we’d be walking down the street with my dog, George helping me do errands, the older men on First Avenue who worked in the stores, would try to pull George into that tiny little synagogue on Houston Street on Friday evenings so they could have a minyon. Apparently you can’t have your service at all unless there is a minyon. I had no idea what a minyon is, I am guessing 6 men with prayer shawls on standing around the rabbi and the cantor, if that synagogue had a cantor at all. Their eyes would light up when they saw George coming down the street with me and my dog, because it was so close to the time, and they needed that extra person to make a minyon. I have no idea if George acceded to their request or not. I mean when he finished helping me, did he go over to the synagogue? I do not know.
George’s claim to fame is that he had been at City Hall thru umpteen administrations. They all knew him at City Hall. When I told that to my fellow dog walkers in Tompkins Square Park, they scoffed! “He is a meshuginar,” they said to me. “He thinks he goes to City Hall every day and they all know him there,” they said to me. They said “it is like the meshuginar who was in the middle of First Avenue waving his arms last week, he thought he was a traffic cop directing traffic, and George thinks he goes to City Hall every day and he is known there.” This is what Mike said.
Mike is a horse-playing Jewish man, exactly the same age as my father. Mike was born in 1913, like my dad and like Bill’s dad, and is a horseplayer like Bill’s dad, goes to the track every day. In a competition of the most stubborn man on earth, is it Leon my dad, is it Bill’s dad, is it Mike the dog walker in Tompkins Square Park. They are all heavy-weight champions in the area of scoffing; stubborn-minded scoffers. But I guess I would give the award to Mike. There is nothing I could say or do, which would change Mike’s mind that George imagines he goes to City Hall every day, that George is a meshuginar with a vivid imagination.
If Mayor Abe Beame happened to be walking thru Tompkins Square Park (which he would never do!) and came up to George and said “Hi George, how are you doing” and if Mike were sitting next to George, Mike would still not change his mind.
And in fact a year or so before I left New York, George was at City Hall when Mayor Beame showed up for a luncheon. He had been mayor a few administrations before. “Hi George, you still here?” former Mayor Abe Beame said. And George said “yes, your honor.”
I know exactly how George got to be "included" at City Hall because he used the same technique on me and it worked like a charm. Yes it’s true the whole world sees George as a meshuginar, but that is before you get to know him. After you get to know him, I am not saying George is not a meshuginar, but who cares! He just gives you a more expansive view of what human nature is like. Like discovering a new planet in the solar system or new star in the galaxy. Your vision widens to include George. (Before you get to know George, he is not included in your vision, there is the solar system and there is George, and he is excluded.) It is a big difference. And in some ways now I feel myself privileged to be one of those who knows George. Altho of course everyone thru a zillion administrations knows George, plus half my neighborhood. I am not in small club. Half my neighborhood just knows George as meshuginar and excludes him. And half know him as I do, and everyone at City Hall, and the old men who try to pull him into their minyon.
The way George became my friend, and got to be included in City Hall, is by making himself indispensable. I used to always run away from George. But one day I was coming home with all those heavy shopping bags, plus I had my dog, and George offered to carry my shopping bags. It was help I desperately needed. And to my surprise my dog, it was my first dog then, Spes, was madly passionately totally in love with George. George not only carried all my shopping bags home for me, but carried them up the 3 flights of steps and put them by my door. It made my life so much easier, it was such a huge favor.
And after that he figured out my habits, that I went to the park every day with the fellow dog walkers, and then grocery shopped on First Avenue on the way home. And it seems just at the instant I was trying to navigate all those heavy bags, George would appear, carry them home and up all the steps. And of course my dog was overjoyed out of her mind to be with George, she loved George. And then somehow that became our routine. My dog Spes never liked going to the park with the fellow dog-walkers, so instead George and I would walk around the neighborhood with her as I stopped in stores to pick up this or that. Once the 3 of us walked to SoHo together to the discount paper store and I bought 10 heavy packages of top quality typing paper, and George carried it all home for me. When I got one of those huge Selectric typewriters because they cost nothing when computers came in, and it broke a few times, George carried that huge heavy thing downstairs. And we took taxi together to Chelsea to my typewriter store to have it fixed. And then George and I and dog walked home. Same thing when we picked it up. I do not know how I would have managed without George.
And this is exactly what happened at City Hall. I have no idea where in City Hall the big machers spent all day schmoozing. But it was very convenient for them, if someone wanted container of coffee to-go, with bagel and shmear, that George was always there, eager and willing to go. Whatever anyone had a taste for, there was George. They only had to give him the money for it and he would go across the street and get it. There were probably lots of errands they could send George for. To get their cigars, to get their cigarettes. If they bought their cigars in a different neighborhood, George would go get it! Anything! wherever it was! When Isaac Bashevis Singer was invited for tea, it was George who bought the napkins, who bought the cookies, and even poured out the coffee and tea. He told me later “Isaac Bashevis Singer had tea not coffee, just lemon no sugar, and didn’t eat any of the cookies.” That might have been where former Mayor Abe Beame showed up and said “I see you’re still here, George” and George said “nice to see you, your honor.”
Even if something was on another floor, they could send George to get it. With George around no one had to move a muscle, George would get it for you. They couldn’t run away from George like I did the first ten years, they were stuck with him from the beginning, so I bet they discovered very quickly how indispensable George is. It hit me once that Mayors come and go but George is always there. I tried to explain this to Mike. But you can get a good idea what my dad was like and Bill’s dad was like. All Mike did was to say again about the meshuginar on First Avenue, how he stood there waving his arms directing traffic, till the cops finally took him away. Mike refused to believe George ever stepped foot in City Hall.
The very few personal things I know about George are things he let drop, because as I say he wouldn’t answer any question. One very cold day in winter he mentioned, during the Depression in Germany he would go to the public library because it was the only warm place. But when I said “did you come from Germany, George?” He gave that odd look and either said “no” or refused to answer. Once he said his uncle is still mad at him, because he accuses George of stealing the bottle of whiskey at his daughter’s bas mitzvah, which of course George did. “I didn’t know you have family here?” I said. And George refused to answer. That is the only time George mentioned any family at all.
I have the impression George might have gone to high school here and had a terrible time, no one talked to him. But I may not be right about this, it may be some other early experience in America where things were awful for George.
When my dog Spes was ill, George was my savior. He arrived every day, and when she could no longer make the steps, he carried her down, he carried her up, and she would walk with us to the card tables by the precinct across the street, where she would lie under the table while George and I played cards. I did this because she wanted to be outside so much. So George and I would spend hours upon hours playing cards. I was absolutely completely devoted to my dog, I would do anything for her, and George was a saint and angel to do this for me. That’s really when George and I became close. He was the worst card player in the world. We played Gin Rummy, and at first I easily beat him every game, even tho I had not played cards since I was 9 years old. But when I saw how much George wanted to win, I managed to lose every game after that. George kept score with pencil and paper. Sometimes George, who was up every night and never slept, would fold his arms on the table, rest his head on it, and say “wake me up with a kiss.” I wish I could replicate George’s heavy accent “vake me up mit a kiss.” It was hard to understand George cause of his heavy accent.
After two months Spes did go to Heaven, early one Saturday morning. Bill and I spent the whole day at home together talking being close. At 4 pm the intercom bell rang, and I thought to myself “that is George! he is so faithful! he is here to help me walk Spes.” I wasn’t ready to say anything, I just buzzed George in and called down the stairs “thank you very much George, but I am already back home.” But that evening when I went out to buy something at the corner store, George passed me on First Avenue. I said “George, Spes went to Heaven this morning, Bill and I are upstairs sitting shiva for her right now.” And a smile crossed George’s lips when I said I was sitting shiva for Spes. And he said “I thought if she made it thru the weekend she would be OK.” How sweet of George to have had faith in my dog, that she could make it! I had too, till she went to Heaven. But I tell you, it took all the faith in the Universe for me to have believed that. No one will ever know the effort I put into having faith and hope my dog would make it.
Then Bill took me on camping trip in Adirondacks for 4 or 5 days so we could recuperate from Spes and the day we got back we got Clio. Adina had brought Clio over the day before we left, to ask if we wanted her. She couldn’t stand Clio and was giving Clio up. And she came up with Clio, and Bill said “fine we will take her!” But we were going on camping trip. We asked Adina to keep Clio for those few days. Adina clearly never wanted Clio back in her apartment but of course she said yes, she was so relieved she had found a home for Clio. And Bill had me call from Grand Central Station when we got off the train, to tell Adina we will take taxi home now and to bring Clio over right now.
Clio was 4 months old and a torture chamber, and she could not be walked off the leash the way I did with Spes. She had to be on the leash every second, because when she wasn’t she took off faster than lightning and danced in First Avenue in heavy traffic. That girl gave me so many traumas! But George and I took up where we left off. I had to hold Clio on the leash, so it would have been even harder to carry home all those shopping bags of groceries. But I didn’t need to, I had George. I was very close to George now and loved him beyond measure for what he had done for Spes, my beloved beloved beloved Spes. And it turned out what George wanted, I don’t know how we arrived at this, what George wanted was-- after I threw the ball for Clio at the school playground across from the precinct, the girl was a great athlete-- We would sit on the bench or at the card table, I would have Clio on the leash. George would bring pencil and paper, and he would dictate a letter.
It began off as one letter, he had something he really wanted to say to someone at City Hall about how things should be. I copied down his dictation in good English with punctuation, and then had George type it up, and I proofread it. It didn’t matter what I wrote down in perfect spelling and good English. By the time George typed it up, the spelling was a catastrophe and there was no punctuation. The first time I had him redo it, but after that I didn’t bother. I would read him back his letter after I first took it down, and then read it back to him after he brought me the typewritten copy. George was very satisfied, he liked hearing his letter. George never said “I” in the letter, he didn’t say “I think.” He always said “we.” “We think” “ We suggest” “What we think you should do..”
After the first few letters George discovered he loved this so much, that I would sit on the bench with him and take down 10 letters. Since George did not have very much to say, and would only try to think of something to say and to who he could possibly write to, the letters became very brief. “Perfect!” I would say after I took it down. “Perfect!” I would say, after he showed me the typewritten letters from the ones I had taken down day before. I thought “what does it matter all the typos and spelling mistakes,” some of the letters were so silly, George’s suggestion for the type of teabags they use at City Hall. All the letters were to City Hall.
I said to George “I am your secretary,” and he loved that. After that wherever we went, which was everywhere in our neighborhood, and whoever we met, and George knew everyone in the neighborhood, he introduced me as his secretary. “This is my secretary” he would say. And they would look at me (they didn’t believe George) “yes” I said, “I am his secretary.” George loved having a secretary. And somehow it is my destiny lol, to always be a secretary. In one way or another, my whole life I have been a secretary. I am one to this day
Clio was 4 months old when we adopted her, and 4 years old when we moved to Tucson, so this life must have continued till the day we left. He would help me with my shopping while I walked Clio, then we would sit on the bench, and I would be his secretary, and then he would keep me company while I threw the ball for Clio at the handball courts.
Clio loved George too, all dogs loved George.
I didn’t tell George I was leaving, I knew it would break his heart. But he found out after we left, and he handled it well. I wrote to all my neighbors and friends in the neighborhood “if you see George give him my address in Tucson, and tell him to write.” And sure enough I got a letter. He must have come to my building to find me and Catherine came down and gave him my address. And I got a letter from him saying “now he doesn’t have his secretary,” but it was still a nice letter -- if you could figure out what he was saying, every word was misspelt and it was one long sentence. (“dear secriterti” it began off.) He wouldn’t tell me his address, he kept everything about his life secret to the end. I never even know which block he lived on. He told me to write to him at the Democratic headquarters on 9th Street and gave me their address, which is a storefront on 9th Street.
And so George and I corresponded for about a year. And then I guess I forgot about George and he forgot about me. But he has a place in my heart which will always be there. And I bet George too has never forgotten, that one day he had a great secretary.
Post script, I remember now when George and I sat on the bench to be his secretary, first I had George get me a container of coffee to go, sweet and light, and a danish to go with it. And I bet I made him pay. I know George has no money, but he walked everywhere, he never took public transportation to City Hall or to anywhere. He walked. For dinner he had can of sardines. What did he spend money on, except a bottle of whiskey. He could afford to spring $1 for his secretary to have coffee and danish while he dictated his letters to her. LOL I bet George liked it. It made him feel like a real employer. “You are a great employer” I said happily to George when he handed me my coffee and danish.
The New York Street Painters
Ronnie DeNota with fellow painters
Gotham Drawing
Tucson painting by Felix Pasilis Sunday, 8/10/08, 6:43 am
In Tucson you can join a club or swim at Public PoolIt’s a beautiful morning. The birds are chirping and whistling. A sparrow is doing her “la toilette,” primping her feathers, on branch right out my window, making herself beautiful. Wow what a big job she is doing. She is cleaning each one of her feathers, under her wing, on her breast, her back, everywhere.
The sky is gentle blue. And the sunlight shining thru the green leaves of mesquite tree is starting to look August, the green has an August hue to it. It is a world of gentle blue sky, August-hued green leaves, and sparrows in my tree, hip hopping from branch to branch, except for Mrs Sparrow, her morning bath and preening is taking forever.
O now another sparrow on another branch is doing his morning preen and clean. Mrs Sparrow has finished hers it seems, she is looking around. O I spoke too soon, she was just taking a rest, she is back cleaning under her wing again.
Tomorrow schools in Tucson open again and the school year begins. The summer lifeguards who are all 16 years old, and spent all summer barefoot in bathing suits at the city swim pools, will be in shoes and socks and regular clothes, and taking history and English and chemistry and trigonometry. Instead of a day at the pool, it will be day in school. I asked one what he thought about school opening again and he said “it will be fun to see my friends who I haven’t seen all summer.” I am guessing this means the friends who were away during the summer. The desert is like NYC in that way, those who can get away from the heat in summer, do. Altho I am guessing his friends just looked for summer jobs outside of Tucson, they wanted to be away.
When my cousins were growing up in Tucson my aunt Ruth rented beach house in San Diego for the summer, and they spent their summers on the beach. San Diego is no longer affordable so now the teachers in Tucson take their families to the seaside in Mexico for the summer. They all have condos down there. I was friends with some of these teachers when I was at Racquet Club and they all said “when I retire I want to move there.” They love Mexico, they love their condo on the beach there. In the public pools I don’t run into this world. There are not so many lap swimmers and the ones I know are rooted in Tucson. But at Racquet Club it seemed almost everyone was going back and forth to Mexico all the time. The ones who didn’t own a condo there would go and rent for a week-end or a week.
It’s interesting what a different world Racquet Club was in summer compared to the public pools in summer. Public pools are so orderly. There are all the 16 year old lifeguards hired for the summer, gazillions of them because so many children are in the pools in the afternoons, the day camps come and bring all their kids. So it is the year round lifeguards, Samantha and the others who are always there; the summer lifeguards; and the morning lap swimmers, the same swimmers you see year round. In the afternoons there is the same father, he is a teacher, who brings his little daughter every day every summer. But he is not going back and forth to Mexico, he takes his daughter to pool every day, and when they are not at the pool he takes her to the movies. I begin to see why the public pools have the same vibe I do. For better or for worse, my life is like that too.
Not everyone at Racquet Club leads life of high adventure. After all Bill and I were there for 3 years, our friend Jim has been there forever, Layla is there, Maria is there too. But if you look closely, Maria does go to New York City a few times a year to be with her son and grandchildren, and does visit Poland where she grew up once a year. Layla too goes to NYC few times a year to see her son, and down to her farm in Mexico once a year for few weeks. Jim doesn’t go anywhere, but his heart is not in Tucson at all, he dreams night and day of having a yacht and living in Tahiti. And Sue always spends her summer back in Michigan.
The world I grew up in is the Racquet Club world. In fact my parents were tennis players, we had a summer cottage in the Adirondacks in the summer; my parents were always active, they did sport, and went to the theater, to concerts. Cultural life was a big part of their life. I was like the children of the parents at Racquet Club. For me being at Racquet Club was being back in the world I grew up in. And that is the life my aunt Ruth gave her kids when they were growing up in Tucson. It is incredible how cosmopolitan Racquet Club is. I was friends with Arlene there, both she and her husband are university professors. And they have been to every country in the world. And really when you think of it, so has Layla.
Well a little birdie is sitting on a high up branch just quietly looking around. O he saw something! O he straightened up, poised alert! O he took off! Hahaha you always think of a bird watcher as someone with binoculars around their neck, tramping thru the woods, but I guess in my own way I am bird watcher too, I like to watch the birds.
Yes Racquet Club is the world I grew up in. I guess it is no surprise that practically the first day there, I was sitting in jacuzzi next to older guy, and out of the blue in middle of conversation, he said about dating Ruth Wilensky when he was 16 years old. I fell over! Wilensky is my maiden name. I hadn’t realized that would have been my aunt’s name until she married George. Only in Racquet Club would you hear your own maiden name spoken to you, without any awareness that was the name you grew up with. “I dated Ruth Wilensky when I was 16, but she preferred George, he became her boyfriend” Seymour told me in the jacuzzi my first week at Racquet Club.
Seymour had grown up in the Bronx, by the Bronx Zoo, but obviously had come to Tucson fairly young if he had been dating my aunt. He became a doctor, was general practitioner his whole life. Sometimes his wife and grown up kids arrived, and they looked every inch New York City. They looked like a family my parents would have been friends with. And of course they have summer house in Rocky Mountains to get out of the heat. There are doctors at my public pool too, but they are not elegant cosmopolitan sophisticated like Seymour (Seymour is an intellectual.) The doctors at public pool work at the hospital close by, and are the klutzes to end all klutzes. You never want to swim in a lane next to them or anywhere near them. They are absolutely oblivious of the world around them. They are completely out of it. There are even two professors at the public pool but they are not one bit like Arlene and her husband Mike the physics professor, the two world travelers. Alfredo is in food science department, he doesn’t leave Tucson, he loves to grow his beautiful plants and swim at public pool every day. And Lyn the anthropology professor, also swims at public pool every day, never leaves Tucson, except I guess for anthropology conventions, and spends his evenings going dancing, he knows all the unusual exotic folk dances.
Of course I love everyone I met at Racquet Club, they are the nicest people in the world. And if you notice our good friends now are people we met at Racquet Club, Layla and Jim and Maria, and even Sue altho I never see her. And Kimberly altho I never see her either. And Gail and Ray altho they switched to public pools as we did. I guess you have to share interests for a friend to cross over from pool friend to friend in regular life. And all my friends in NYC are people you would meet at the Racquet Club.
But it is the public pools which suit me to a T. So few people in that big huge pool, high up by the mountains. Everything so simple, just a big deep swim pool, a bathhouse with no roof, showering under the blue sky and bird call, watching the birds take off and land while you swim. And talking to Patsy in the next lane about the poker game she was in last night. Her husband is top card player, and Patsy is learning.
This is the other world I grew up in, it wasn’t my parents’ world, but the world of the parents of the children I played with in my building. Where their mothers played Mahjong every evening, and we sat at the kitchen table and played poker when we got home from school, and tried to teach ourselves Mahjong. And Carol’s mother would get out her ash tray and cigarettes and join us for a hand, and talk about the 12 egg sponge cake she just made for Pesach.
I am not saying everyone at public pools is like Patsy and Mike. Kathleen teaches the oboe to children who are entering competitions and is a great potter. Eleanor did great pottery too. But swimming in quiet empty pool next to Patsy, hearing how she had a Straight, how could she not bet on it, is just my speed. And Mike is next to her saying proudly how well she did. And because it is a money game (Mike is always in big money games) Mike says he is her sugar daddy and when she was down $400 it was his money and he was very nervous, but she came back very well.... this is what I like. For me this is the kind of pool conversation which harmonizes with beautiful mountains to look at, blue sky above, birds always on their way somewhere, and 16 year old lifeguards up in the stands.
It is the simple life of Annie at 8 years old....
