Las Posadas
Mood:  incredulous

I've been desiring Las Posadas.  It's a Mexican tradition, or Latin American, from December 16-24, in which participants walk from door to door re-enacting Joseph and Mary seeking shelter in Bethlehem.  I've done it once, about four years ago, on or around my birthday.  My siblings and I went to this Hispanic celebration in Manhattan, and a group went out enacting Las Posadas in and around Washington Square Park (or was it Union Square Park?).

I even put a question up at answers.yahoo.com, "Where can you do Las Posadas in New York City?"

Last night, on my way home, which is in a partly Hispanic neighborhood, on my block as I was carrying a few groceries, I heard a group coming up behind me singing.  This was around 8:55, and I was rushing home to see "The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny" on PBS.  I turned around and saw a group of about fifty people walking, some of them carrying lyric sheets, singing in Spanish.  As the approached, I asked the man in front, "Are you doing Las Posadas?"  He said yes.  I stepped aside and watched them as they passed.  I couldn't understand most of the words they were singing, but they sang solemnly, in low tones.  Someone, probably the man in front, carried a censer, and the sweet incense filled my nostrils. 

After the group passed, I followed behind.  Now I walk with a cane, so by the time I reached my own house, the group was already way ahead of me on the next block.  I watched them a minute or two, then went inside, just in time to catch "Mahagonny" beginning.  ("Whiskey Bar", aka "The Alabama Song", which was recorded by the doors, is the second song in the opera.  Audra McDonald sang the lead.)

How about that?  I go looking for Las Posadas, and it comes to me!

I'm now going to look at a Posada or two on Youtube.com.

 http://www.daily-word-of-life.com/xmas.htm

 

A Day Off
Mood:  rushed

I'm off work today because I had to wait for the Con Ed person to come read the meter.  He came about five minutes after I awoke--around 8:40am--and I had to go to the bathroom!

At around 11:30 I called my job to see if they needed me, but Joe said he had enough tutors for the day.  The semester is ending, and we're staggering our hours.

So I went out and bought some milk and juice for breakfast, then went straight to the internet cafe, intending to be here only a half-hour or hour--ha-ha!  That was 12:30, and it's now going on 3:30.  I looked up the American Tract Society about writing tracts, and printed out my God and Chocolate tract, first transferring it to MS Word.  I was also on Amazon.com.  There are quite a few picture books about African-Americans at Christmastime!

 

I also sent an e-card to Brandon for his fourteenth birthday, and one to Elena, which I forgot to send last year, where I wrote: "Congratulations--it's a teenaged BOY!"

I should be at home cleaning up newspapers and stuff.  Actually, I started a few days ago, cleaning up a lot of junk from the living room coffee table.

Now the kids are coming into the internet cafe; it's their turn.  And, I'm afraid I don't have enough money with me to cover this session!  Oh, well.  I need to go home before the milk turns sour, if it hasn't already.  Good thing it's winter!

 

Christmas 2007 so far...
Mood:  lyrical
Now Playing: Do You Hear What I Hear? on a nearby computer

Oliver at the Free Synagogue of Flushing went very well, with well-attended, happy audiences and a couple of good reviews.  I was in the chorus, in four scenes, and I even had a line: "Bill Sykes!" 

Operation Christmas Child at NLF
Mood:  special

I'm surprised I made no entries here during December 2006!  How busy was I?  Anyway, I had Craig Allen at NLF make me a CD based upon an out-of-print LP of decades ago, 60 Years of Music America Loves Best, which my family grew up with.  It was especially appropriate just months after Mom's death, which happened July 2006, of heat stroke. Aunt Gladys, who had gone away to Japan, let us use her apartment Christmas Day.  Her daughter, my cousin Kim, was with us.  The gifts were especially plentiful that year, particularly from Ken and Margie.  Anyway, I also gave my family members lotions or lotion soaps or other toiletries from Bath and Body Works.

Right now, November 2007, a woman named Krista Bell is in charge of Operation Christmas Child for New Life Fellowship.  I and Jaye Lee (no relation) are the leaders for the Kairos small group. 

Personally, I'm planning to assemble a box for a Girl 10-14, based upon a chocolate theme, probably getting plenty of items from Hershey's Times Square.  Now I've seen a special Beanie Baby bear celebrating the 100th anniversary of Hershey's Kisses, but I was thinking, wouldn't it be nice if I could find a chocolate lab Beanie Baby for the box I plan to prepare.  Lo and behold, I found one in Flushing--a chocolate lab puppy named Diggidy.  He's so cute!  (He?)

I also bought the Hershey's Bear, called Cocoa Bean, at a store in my neighborhood.  Whether I'll put the bear in a second box I'll prepare or in a box prepared by someone else, I'm not sure yet.  Probably the latter.

 

 

Turkey be gone!
Mood:  happy

I'm pleased to report that this year the Lee family Thanksgiving was turkey-free--that is, human turkey free!  In fact, the one who came closest to acting like a turkey--twice--was me!

Becky and I arrived at Rachel's around 7:30pm, and her roommate Lani let us in.  Rachel was dead asleep in her bedroom, I supposed.  After a few minutes Becky and I went out, she to repark her car, I to buy some Prilosec.  I told Lani I'd return in a half-hour, but I may have taken longer.  I returned and rang the bell.  No answer.  Ring, then ring again, then knock, then knock again.  No answer.  By this time I was near crying; my legs hurt and it was getting near 9 and I didn't want to miss the parade.  I went downstairs.  The reception desk people called Rachel and said, "Let your aunt in."  I went back up.  A very sleepy and somewhat annoyed Rachel answered the door.  I apologized for getting her up early.  Then right behind me came Lani and her own uncle and aunt.  She had gone to get them.

A little later I couldn't find the macaroni and cheese that I'd baked last night.  I ran around semi-frantically wondering if Becky had left it in her car.  Becky returned, and I told her I couldn't find my food.  She had put it in the kitchen window sill.  I told Rachel, "I'm sorry I alarmed you."  She said she hadn't been alarmed.  I said, "Then I'm sorry I alarmed myself."

I sat on the generous window sill of the living room, which had a bird's-eye view of Herald Square.  I could also see the living room TV: two views of the same event.  Becky and Rachel came to the window to see A Chorus Line's kicking line; that dancing translated well from a distance.  Mainly they cooked duck and other things while I, who had cooked the previous night, watched the parade.  I had never seen it from this angle before.  Lani and her relatives watched from the bedroom, mainly.

Lani and her aunt and uncle went out a little later.  Friends dropped by to say hello.  Elena and her kids came.  She had been considering going to a friend's, but she stayed with us.  Ken was with Margie in Florida, and he called in.  We had turkey, cornish hen, duck, ham, sweet potatoes, mac and cheese, and assorted veges.  Rachel, Becky, and I had all bought sparkling cider: no alcohol allowed here.  The duck was especially delicious.

Later, all the kids were on some kind of electronic--Ipod, computer--while I watched TV, spouting out the answers to Jeopardy.  We watched Smallville and Grey's Anatomy.  We left around 11pm.  I'd asked Rachel for more duck, but she said no, because she and her friends were having anohter dinner the next day.

Friday afternoon I helped decorate the church for Christmas.

 

A day for being generous
Mood:  special

Right now I'm at the office, and I've just designed a new Vistaprint.com business card for me for Christmas 2006.  I used the design you see here, an ornament of a mouse sitting on a typewriter, resting on an evergreen branch.

This past Friday, the Friday before Thanksgiving, was a day of generosity for me, coming and going. 

I prepared four shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child of Samaritan's Purse.  A couple of months ago they had sent me a leader's packet, but I didn't bring this to my church's attention.  Maybe next year?  Anyway, one of the suggestions was to prepare a shoebox in someone's honor.   So one box I designated for a Girl, 5-9 years, in memory of my mother.  I included a bronze-skinned, brunette Barbie, socks, a diary set, and a toothbrush with Dora the Explorer, a mini duffel bag (for travel), a beaded necklace in the Mexican colors, red, green, and white, a mini New York City bus, a harmonica and kazoo (for music), a writing pad with a rose on it, and a white hankerchief with an "R" and a pink flowery design.  Two of the other boxes were designated for a Girl 10-14, and the fourth one for a Boy 10-14, filled with Mets and Yankees stuff.

I carried these shoeboxes in two large doubled bags to the Christian Bookstore near Times Square, which now has a new name: Timeless Treasures.  (More appealing to the non-Christians, I suppose.)

That day I'd decided to go see The Bluest Eye, playing in an Off-Broadway theater on West 42nd Street between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.  I passed by the theater on the way to the bookstore, and decided to wait until I'd unloaded the boxes to get a ticket.  When I returned, lo and behold, it was sold out!  And the waiting list was full.  Oh, well.  A line of mostly black theatergoers was waiting to go in.  As I exited, I passed a couple of white women who looked like they had extra tickets.  "Do you have an extra ticket?" I asked.  They said yes.  "How much?" I asked.  They said never mind that, and gave the ticket to me!  Praise the Lord!  So I went back in.  While the show was going on, one of the women started feeling ill; she was bent over.  The two left.  I'm sorry they had to miss it.  The show was a tad long, but very energetic, thought-provoking, and moving.  We had a talkback with the actors afterward.  I met a professor from Hunter College, and took her business card.

Afterward, I decided to go "ritzing" at Sardi's.  Actually, I stopped first at Lucille's in B.B. King's, but they had no seats and the music was too loud.  "Go to Sardi's" something inside told me.  Now I had challenged my students to "cross over" and go somewhere they had never gone before.  One suggestion was to eat at a fancy restaurant like Tavern on the Green, even if they could only afford the appetizer.

A doorman guarded the entrance to Sardi's.  "Can anyone eat here?" I asked.  He said, "Yes, come in."  So I went in and was seated at the wall.  It was a mostly white, mostly thin clientele, looking rich enough but not over the top.  I settled on a dish: a beef, lamb, and pork sausage rolled in a crepe and covered with a creamy sauce.  Appetizer got you one; entree got you two.  I decided to go with the entree and sacrifice the $27 plus tax and tip.  Now this was an entree without a salad!  I drank water.

As I was watching the clientele, a rather good looking brunet man and a lady friend sat next to me on my right.  I wondered if he were someone famous.  He resembled Mandy Patinkin, but he was too young and his hair too dark, and he was better looking.  The woman had a dessert, and I sensed the man was treating her.  Later as he got up to left, he said something to me like "Enjoy!" or "Are you enjoying your meal?"  A few minutes later my blonde waitress came up to me, handed me a business card, and said, "The man who just left paid for your meal."  I gasped and covered my mouth.  Wow!  Some tears even came to my eyes.  Now I hadn't dressed up and he may have sensed this was my first visit and I couldn't normally afford this.  Until this fall I couldn't really afford this at all.  No "lunch at Sardi's every day" for me!  (A line from a song in The Producers.)  The man was an accident lawyer from Michigan.  In the back of his business card he'd written in big letters, "Enjoy!"

I also enjoyed dessert, which I paid for.  An Orange R____ Pudding.  When I saw it, it looked like oatmeal, but it tasted good.  I called my waitress and asked what the R word was.  She told me (obviously I don't remember), and said it was from rice.  I said it reminded me of oatmeal, though it tasted good.  She said, "I wouldn't mind having that for breakfast."

Her name is Elise.  I paid my $10 plus and left her a good tip plus a business card or two of my own.  Later I went to the bathroom there, where the attendant was knitting a brown-and-white sweater for her toddler nephew.

Quite a day, wasn't it, with generosity flowing back and forth!

P.S. It's an Orange Risotto Pudding!

http://www.lawyerforlife.com     http://www.sardis.com     http://www.newvictory.org/show.m?showID=1006823     http://www.steppenwolf.org/backstage/history/productions/index.aspx?id=376         http://www.samaritanspurse.org/OCC.asp?MPGID=1 

On to Christmas 2006...
Mood:  not sure

I won't spend too long here, because I've already been on this computer close to three hours.

For part of that time I was on Amazon.com.  Their wishlist/giftlist has changed, that I could now record who's received what over the years.  So much I bought for my family over the past six or so years!

A few weeks ago I spotted a small personalized item in a 99-cent store that I thought would be nice for my female relatives.  And so I began my Christmas shopping.

My mom, Rose, died in July due to the first Northeastern heat wave.  I bought one item with her name on it anyway.

My 50th birthday will come up this year--my Cincuentanera!

 

Everybody Knows a Turkey--the sequel
Mood:  sad
I'm sorry to say that the Lee Family Turkey reared its ugly head again on Christmas Day. That's two holidays in a row broken, if not busted. What's going to happen to us on Easter, or Valentine's Day, or Martin Luther King Day?

I'll name names this time: it was my mother and me. She hadn't taken her medication in days, and had neglected to ask me or one of my siblings to get some more. So Christmas Eve she was in bed all day--no big whoop there--but Christmas Day she was flustered as she tried to make out cards to give to her grandchildren. "How many grandchildren do I have?" she asked me, twice. I knew then that something was definitely wrong.

My sisters came over, and Rachel, too. Becky was declaring that Mom shouldn't be left alone that night--which sounded like she was planning to leave me behind! I got Elena alone and said, "If our plans our skewered, our plans are skewered, but if you plan to go off together and leave me behind, I won't stand for it!" If you knew how it is with my mother, you wouldn't want to stand for it, either. So Elena got me out of that house almost immediately--for my sanity, she said. She also volunteered to return to the house later that night and stay with Mom overnight. This was early evening when this all came down.

Elena and I chilled out, and eventually Becky and Rachel joined us. Elena left around 11 or 12. Ken and Margie came much later, and by then I was in bed.

The next day Elena, Angela, Brandon, and I went for a drive to Manhattan to go visiting. Elena took me to the house of the Santa letter family, and waited for me outside. Fortunately the family was home--grandmother and kids, and Mom at work. Since there were two more kids that I didn't know about, although I'd bought extra little gifts just in case, I promised that in a couple of weeks I'd provide a gift especially for the one-year-old child, since there was nothing I had appropriate for a toddler. Then I went off with Elena & Co. for more visiting. Eventually she took me back home.

This week there is some major moving going on, but I haven't helped out yet. The day I planned to go, I was reminded of an event at the church, and went there instead. Am I staying away from another chaotic family happening? Am I burned out by duties at home? Am I angry at someone and therefore reluctant to help?

Anyway, now I have to give Mom her medicines, which isn't as hard as I thought it would be, though I did forget once. I announced to Mom, and then to Elena, that I'm not taking on more responsibility at home without also taking on more authority. I've had it with the current arrangement, which is mismanagement, very unhealthy for Mom and very unfair to me. Now how I plan to verify my statement of bravado remains to be seen.

My Christmas activities aren't totally over. We plan to visit one of my aunts next weekend--the weekend of Martin Luther King Day. (Everybody Knows a Turkey, part 3?)

I spent New Year's Eve at New Life Fellowship, with a party there which involved international foods and square dancing.

It's late, so I'll go soon. More details later.

Oh--I entered an adapted, musicalized version of my play, "Three Reporters and a Baby", to the Bad Musicals Festival in late December. I hand-delivered the script to them a couple of days before the December 31 deadline.

Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby!
Mood:  party time!
Today's my 49th birthday, and it looks like I'm going to spend much of it with my mom at home.

The story of my commute home, yesterday evening:

I found out my college was running shuttle buses to the Bayside and Jamaica LIRR stations. So I took the 5:00 run to Bayside, and took the LIRR to Shea Stadium, figuring to walk home to Corona. Well, the Shea Stadium LIRR station is sunken into the ground and pretty desolate, and it's a long walk even from the station, across the ramp, to where the elevated IRT is on Roosevelt Avenue. The avenue was packed with cars. I ambled along past the stadium, past the parking lot, over the Grand Central Parkway. I had to go to the bathroom. A gas station and an auto shop refused me, but I finally found relief at a laundromat near 114th Street. The sign on the laundromat's bathroom said "Customers Only", but I went anyway, and no one stopped me. I bought a Snickers bar from the laundromat's customer booth.

I hadn't figured that the distance between Shea Stadium and 111th Street is greater than the distance between other stops. I walked slowly, observing the traffic, enjoying the Christmas lights on people's houses along the way. All in all the trip took nearly three hours, including a couple of stops along the way.

I figured today I'd forget the shuttle and LIRR and walk and take a taxi home. However, I had a hard time trying to find a taxi from home (either cars weren't available or the cab companies tried to gouge the price), so my boss gave me the day off. And here I am in a local cybercafe.

When I'm done here, I'll buy some eggnog and go home. Hopefully, we'll have take-out food and a small cake later.

My guest column in New York Metro, 12/19/05
Mood:  special
I submitted a column to New York Metro last month, and resubmitted it last week, and gosh darn, if they didn't go and run it!

Christmas at My (Limited Budget) House
Christmas at my (limited budget) house

My View: Poor of pocket are rich in holiday spirit
(go to page 10)

Amazon.com: Listmania!: Christmas at My House


Well, the transit strike is on. Happy Christmas, NYC!

There's a lively discussion about that right now at the Bill Maher Message Board. I'll include here my entry. Please excuse my rough language:

Quote: Originally Posted by E..
Thats a pisspoor wage. Especially when living in the city. Most white-trash republicans (your classification confirmed in your homophobic, and insidious post), have never experienced life in a major metropolitan area, and don't realize how expensive the cost of living is in places like New York, LA, and Boston.

Posted by me (mnl_1221):
Amen to that. I'm the native New Yorker here. Let me speak.

The MTA offered us a fare hike some time ago, and they're thinking of doing another one in the near future. They closed down many token booths, compromising the safety of the passengers. They are even thinking of running conductorless trains! Think of that if your baby's stroller gets stuck in the doors!

Oh, yeah: after a private bus strike two years ago, the MTA took over most of the cities private bus lines. If not for that, I could have simply taken two buses to work today (whereas I could normally take a train, then a bus). As of now, I have to take a taxi to and from work!

(And the taxi driver tried to charge me $18 when the normal rate is $10-12 and the contingency rate during the transit strike is a maximum of $10 while traveling within Queens. We agreed on $12. After I got out of the car, I jotted down his driver's license and reported his ass via the Taxi and Limousine Commission's website.)

Fifty thousand a year is a great wage if you're single, but what if you're trying to send four kids to college? And do you have any idea what the rents are? You're lucky if you're not paying $1,000 a month for a single-bedroom apartment, and that's in Queens! Imagine Manhattan?

Although the strike is inconvenient, I think it's shameful that the MTA doesn't want to share its billion-dollar surplus (gained through fare hikes and employee cutbacks, not to mention suspected fraud) with its remaining employees.

BTW, to those stupid-ass people who say that public transportation is evil because it encourages dependency: how do you expect a major city to operate without public transporation? Today the streets of my neighborhood were more crowded with vehicles than usual. Does a cafeteria cook its food the same way a mom or dad feeding its own family cooks its food? Of course not! Then how do you expect a major city to handle transportation the same way a suburban or rural area does?

Fortunately I've already done most of my Christmas shopping. However, last week I picked up a Santa letter at the Post Office in Flushing. (Usually I've used the post office in Manhattan.) The transit strike will interfere with my playing elf and delivering presents in time for Christmas Day.