Category Archives: ahh

Writing blocks

There are many ways to tell a story. I knew that but hearing Ann Pachett debunk my “they write themselves” theory and talk about writing as work¹ was confirming.

Like the book Patchett is reading to me, the story I intend to tell is about “a happy marriage.” These stories are fraught; the telling is fraught.

I layout what I have to say conversationally. I am talking to myself. Will the story flow as smoothly and easily when I finally get it out on paper? [Or, more precisely, on electronic page?]

As the cliché goes, and saying that makes it no less clichéd, stay tuned. Aka, I’m working on it.

Note to self, and you, dear reader, I never tried to support myself on my writing. I am an amateur. Amateur auteur has a ring, yes?

¹This Is A Story Of A Happy Marriage, written by Ann Patchett, read by the author. HarperAudio

Barkeep, I’ll have a….

Baristas like bartenders have upped the ante. The more specific drink invention gets, the more knowledge and skill they have to exercise.

So it’s blonde and flat or almond and what have you. I don’t even know how to order from these menus.

Let’s face it, complicated is fun. And adds spice.

I thought of asking my Swiss cafeista today to prepare my cappucino mit schlag.

They call it Vienesse at Sotheby’s down the block. Adding not spice but calories.

There are moments

When are you most happy?

Like these:

We favor a Mexican place, but each of my friends and I tend to gravitate towards one or a few specific restaurants.

Speaking of lunch with a friend

Let me expand on this particular Mexican restaurant.

They deconstruct a delicious street food and serve it in a paper coffee cup. This touch kind of preserves the feel of a «off a food truck« delicacy when you dig in on the mix of flavors. The corn has been de-cobbed, as it were, for ease of eating. Aka, it’s not as sloppy a dish at table as when you walk through a street-fair.

We both really enjoy this menu choice at Tacombi. 

There’s an industrial feel to the location (ours is on the UES), and I see from their website that they favor this look. Other Tacombis have converted garages into dining rooms. It’s a style. I love it.

Run run run

It’s not like I’m crazy for the big footrace that is the NYC Marathon as it has disrupted my 1st Sunday in November for about 50 years.

Let me explain.

I moved to the other side of the race’s course in 1974. On the day of the Marathon, I am confined to staying east of its long, long path. That confinement lasts from appx 10 am until 4 or 5 pm. 

The closest to normal for me is to walk along the east side of 1st Av, avoiding crowds. I can walk past the 59th  Street Bridge and start across town there.

Busses did not run down York for many a year; perhaps because their terminus is at 91st and 1st. I am not sure why I was able to get one once; call it a fluke.

This year, I watched the festive firework display as runners gather in the Park. My perch was my window overlooking rooftops and clear to the site. 

I also captured the smoke as the show ended.

Every year since 1974, I have been trapped between the East River and 1st Avenue.

That was fun.