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NauenThen

My day (Wednesday)

Poor despairing Buster
I went to class (karate), hung out with a friend, & in an hour Johnny & I are going to see Hayes Carll. Our favorite singer & he's a block away, at the Mercury Lounge.

I have to get catfood. My piggish Buster, who will eat anything, is wasting away because he hates the Whole Foods kibble so much. And here I am, writing instead of feeding him!

I also have to get watermelon because the last one was so good.

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Private jokes

My sister Varda sent me this birthday card. We find & send cards all year round, unconnected to our actual birthdate, whenever we find one that fits our theme, which is a (loose) variant of "you're so great because you're related to me."

When I called to laugh about it, she got unexpectedly poignant—when we're dead, she said, no one will know about this.

No one knows now, that's what makes it special. That only 2 people find something funny (or meaningful) is part of how it connects them. If all those connections were visible, the world would be full of, y'know, fireworks & rainbows & unicorns. And it's still just between the 2 of us even if we tell everyone.  Read More 
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Why don't the poor rise up?

That question was recently addressed by Thomas B. Edsall in the Times. He suggests that the priorities of movements associated with individualization—the feminist, lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender, the black power, and disability rights movements— "do not lend themselves to broad economic demands on behalf of the less well off."

Us against them, me against you: "Instead of boosting prospects for the poor and working class, the agenda associated with individualization  Read More 
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Encounter on First Avenue

Teenage Boy: Can you help our basketball team?

Me: Wow, I can't jump, I can't shoot, so I don't think I'd be much help, but I'm flattered you asked!
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My day (Friday + a little leftover from before)

Riding downtown, stopped in thick traffic near the Midtown Tunnel, a guy in a van inches from me asked where I was going. We're going to the East Village too, he said, he (gesturing to the back seat) has never had an egg cream. The traffic broke then.

Chatted with a lady on a Citibike about the bike  Read More 
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Nicholas Winton

Several years ago I saw a documentary called The Power of Good, about Nicholas Winton, a man who saved hundreds of Czechoslovakian children right before World War II, and never said anything about it till his wife found a scrapbook in the attic 50 years later.

As I recall, he didn't talk about it because felt like he had failed—the last train out was stopped, on September 1, 1939, when the war started, and all of the 250 children aboard were never heard of again.

In the documentary, they showed him on a "this is your life"–type show on English TV, where the rest of the guests were the children he'd saved  Read More 
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Frida Kahlo in the Bronx

Characteristic Sandy Berrigan: getting a close look.
For all the Frida Kahlo immersion I've done, including a visit to her home in Coyoacan, Mexico City, I never noticed her plants. A show at the Bronx Botanical Gardens leads you wonderfully into her intentions to showcase indigenous plants and in fact all things Mexican: a cactus fence, the cobalt blue building reimagined from her parents' staid French-style home. Her father was German & I empathize with the 1st-generation daughter's desire to be more native than the natives.  Read More 
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