Elinor Nauen

Writing this in advance. When you read it, I'll be dozing down on the entire continent, flying from NYC to Portland, OR, for a family reunion of approximately 35 of my favorite cousins. 

Maybe will post while I'm away but maybe not.... 

The most difficult thing is the decision to act; the rest is merely tenacity.
~ Amelia Earhart

According to an article in The New Yorker — "So You Want to Be a Dissident? A practical guide to courage in Trump's age of fear," by Julia Angwin and Ami Fields-Meyer, April 12, 2025 (sorry, no link but can be found) — "Political-science research reveals that autocratic leaders can be successfully challenged. Erica Chenoweth, a professor at Harvard University, has analyzed more than six hundred mass movements that sought to topple a national government (often in response to its refusal to acknowledge election results) or obtain territorial independence in the past century. Chenoweth found that when at least 3.5 per cent of the population participated in nonviolent opposition, movements were largely successful."

Let's go, team! 

Walking through Village View from 1st Ave to Ave A. Someone called, I like your t-shirt. It was a laundry-day selection from B&H restaurant with their motto: Challah por favor.

I like your dog, I called back. 

B&H is closed now? he continued. 

Yes, til mid-August. We commiserated & that led to talk of his dog & our desires to monetize things like his cute dog & my ability to remember birthdays. We talked about a surprising amount of things, agreeing, joshing, stopping just short of making a playdate between Murphy, his corgi, and my cat. I know his name (Robert) & birthday, & somehow, everything I need to. I love that kind of New York City encounter, brief but complete, leaving both of pleased & feeling like we have a new friend even if just for a few minutes & we never see each other again. A one night stand friendship: satisfying & it ends there. 

Someone told me that in medieval China and Japan, incense clocks burned different scents throughout the day, so you could smell the time. 

Did people take it for granted: that's the way we do it, or did they marvel at the clever combinations? Were they trained, like Pavlov's dogs, to know it was, say, 9 o'clock when cinnamon wafted through the room? Could you torture someone or deprive them of sleep by lighting the early a.m. scent hour after hour? Would it influence people to experience synesthesia, the phenomenon of sensory "crossovers," like seeing letters as colors.

I remember I invented the AromAlarm, designed to wake you with the scent of coffee, but of course I didn't build it & was mostly pleased with the name. It's not a bad idea. 

During the pandemic, my neighbors and I went up on the roof of our building every night. We banged pots with people all over the neighborhood & sat & talked. It was a way to get out of our houses & have a social life. 

This summer it's been mostly too hot but we went up last night. The sun slowly bowed out & the pink sky turned to turquoise. Cool breezes & interesting talk.

Suddenly it's not such a bad summer.

Sensationally great to go to a game last night (despite it taking 2 3/4 to get home from Queens, what was with the train?). The weather was as perfect as it's been this wgike year, & the game had variety: homeruns, some good pitching, some thrills, some lulls. Exactly how a baseball game should be. It's a little like making love, it occurs to me: pleasantly familiar but you never know exactly how things are going to go. 

I just found a clipping I'd saved [not sure what paper I cut it out of], with the headline above, a photo of a newborn, & this text:

Fifteen day old Emilio Marco Palma Is unique. He's the first human born in Antarctica. Born Jan. 7, he's son of the commander of an Argentine military base. Argentina, trying to reinforce territorial claims, has sent families there.

According to wiki, he's featured in the Guinness Book of Records as the first person born on the continent. His father was head of the Argentine Army detachment at the base, and his mother was airlifted there when she was 7 months pregnant. 

"While 10 people have been born in Antarctica since, his birthplace remains the southernmost." None of those babies died as infants. Antarctica therefore has the lowest infant mortality rate of any continent: 0%. 

What happened to him? You can't dine out forever on having been born. Can you?

Apparently, I am the last person in the United States to discover that Frozen is based on Hans Christian Andersen's "Snow Queen." Certainly the only person who is reading little other than books about snow, including Barbara Sjoholm's The Palace of the Snow Queen: Winter Travels in Lapland and Sapmi, which begins with her describing how fascinated she was as a child with that story. Well, there you have it. HCA, coming right up! As far as I remember, the only story I've read of his is "The Fir Tree," which I read in Norwegian ("Grantreet") for a class. 

The young man caught up to me in front of Cooper Union. Hi, he said, I'm Adrian, what's your name? I told him. You like nature, right? Not particularly, I said. (I, City Girl!) That threw him off for the briefest second. Do you agree that NYC air is pretty polluted? he asked confidently. No, not really. He started right back in. Then I realized he was shilling for the Nature Conservancy. I support you! I declared; as nature goes, you're OK. He was pleased. Half a block later, I realized that my friend who works for the Nature Conservancy actually works for the Environmental Defense Fund, & now I can't remember which group I in fact have donated to, if it's even one of those two. 

There is a CONCENTRATION CAMP on U.S. soil. I can't think of much else. 

This is from Lucian K. Truscott IV's substack. He talks at length about Dachau then:

 Governor Ron DeSantis has built his own concentration camp, which he calls "Alligator Alcatraz," on the land of an airport in the Everglades. Nearly 900 undocumented migrants are kept there in cages inside huge tents, 30 or more to a cage. There are only three toilets and sinks for dozens and dozens of inmates. Reports from the camp say they are being fed spoiled fruit, moldy bread, ham or cheese sandwiches and little else. Swarms of mosquitoes are everywhere. Inmates are covered in festering bites.

... Nobody knows what the temperature is inside the tents, because no one is allowed inside the concentration camp to inspect conditions. A few Florida lawmakers from both parties, including state representatives and members of the Florida congressional delegation, were allowed into the camp last Saturday for two hours. They were not permitted to bring phones or cameras inside. Journalists were not permitted to accompany them. Citizens from the local area, including members of the Miccosukee Tribe of Indians of Florida who live nearby on land in the Everglades, are not permitted entrance to the camp.

Guards are being hired by Critical Response Strategies, a company that has been contracted to run the camp. The pay is $29 per hour, with $39 per hour for overtime. ... One guard who worked at the concentration camp and quit told the Washington Post that she had been put to work at the camp the same day she was hired ... If people are being hired and put to work as guards on the same day, it does not appear that they are given training or much of a background check.

There is much more, & it is shocking & intolerable. Unconscionable. But as a small antidote to this horror, my rabbi sent an email this afternoon, with the above photo & this message: Our neighbors at Madina Masjid [the mosque around the corner,] are in the midst of a construction project and ... since June, we have been hosting them on Fridays. We have been in relationship with the Imams and lay leaders of the Madina Masjid for decades. They participate in our annual, community-wide Spiritual Sounds concert and we have been there to support one another in difficult times as well. 

Shabbat Shalom.

1) Homeless veteran. Hungry. He had striking blue eyes. Do you want half a sandwich? I showed him the bag, sealed with an Elephant & Castle sticker. What is it? Cheddar and watercress. He thought for a moment. OK, he said, & held out his hand. I felt like I was supposed to thank him. 

2) He was sitting outside the pharmacy. No shade but the sidewalk is wide there. A deep box for contributions. Can you buy me deodorand at Rite Aid, he asked, miming applying it. No but I can give you a dollar, I said. Like the first one, he thought about it for a minute before he took my money. 

OK. 

Has it been long enough since I complained about the weather that my chance has come around again? Not so much a complain as a question: How is it possible that it rained so hard yesterday that some of the subways were flooded & yet today it's just as humid as it's been for a month? 

Hey WillisWeather, fix this for me! Or least explain it in way that makes me have hope for the future?

Looking for them* doesn't do any good. Maybe saying I can't find them will. 

* Right now, here are the books that I know I have but can't find. I don't know where else to look but that's where they are:

A Voyage to Pagany, William Carlos Williams

How Spring Comes, Alice Notley (I did find Johnny's copy) 

The Origin of THE Species, Barbara Barg

Magpie Rising, Merrill Gilfillan

Greggo lost his copy of Pagany years ago & would always ask me if I had it. I bought a copy a few years back & now it's gone. 

I feel like a teenager could come over & spot any of these, all of these, on my shelves in seconds. 

If you want a book, I have it. If you want a specific book, good luck. 

All music is folk music. I ain't never heard a horse sing a song.

~ Louis Armstrong

Not a Bastille Day quote. 

Not a profound quote either. 

Just a moment of levity. 

I tagged it with that frequently used title, because I have barely left my neighborhood this summer (except for a week in South Carolina, which is a different neighborhood of mine) but it isn't inspiring me to an anecdote. My mind is full of a problem in Norwegian: in English, "coat" means both a garment and a covering/varnish. But not so directly in Norwegian. I'm trying to find a word that implies both. It's riveting to try to track down words, in either English or Norwegian. I can appreciate the etymology better in English, of course. 

The weather has scrambled my brain so egg-like, I want my momma: friend chicken. I mean fried chicken (a telling typo!).

My pigeons had 2 eggs. One hatched on Monday. On Wednesday a dead newborn was lying on the ground in front of my door. On Thursday, there were 2 babies in the nest, one of which has to be at least a week or 10 days old. Very puzzling. 

I haven't actually eaten any chicken & it kind of turns my stomach to think of it. 

Nonetheless, a craving. 

Pigeons can feel the distress of their companions & at times will foster or adopt others' birds. 

Apparently, that's more than I can manage.

Someone said that about me this morning and within an hour 2 people had asked for directions: a couple with suitcases trying to find the Freeman's Alley hotel & an older lady who possibly has never been below 57th Street. I have, it seems, maintained my miniature-golf, ask-me-anything face despite all my years as a black-wearing East Village Malcontent. 

I didn't know her well but a lot of people I know relied on her. Her being is strong. Her writing is necessary.

"In the spirit there are no accidents. God is already ahead and waiting: the future is full." ~ Fanny Howe

Was there ever a time when it was under 90°? Was it during my lifetime? Can you personally remember being something other than a swamp creature? Is there a place in the world where it's not s*u*m*m*e*r, with a little sun hitting you with a golden hammer at every breath you take? 

What I read is a well-chosen & profound poem, posted each Sunday by Terence Winch on the Best American Poetry site. Every single poem is a winner. I have met several terrific new-to-me poets. I don't know how he does it.

I suddenly remember being at a bar in lower Manhattan with Terence, the late Ted Greenwald, & a few others. When the bartender found out that the man who wrote "When New York Was Irish" was drinking in his bar, believe me, none of us paid for another round. 

I've never been to a psychic, for all the standard sensible reasons. For research on some now-forgotten project, I did go to someone who claimed to channel an ancient spirit, whose message was not much more than greed is good. That was in the 90s. I suddenly think maybe I should go see a psychic ~ there's one on my block, in fact ~ & find out what she's all about. How do they manage to pay a NYC rent? They must know something. 

... over? Like I always say, we get a couple of weeks of nice weather at the end of May. Then it's Memorial Day. A week later is the Fourth of July & a week after that is Labor Day. And that's the summer. 

Stay safe today, everybody. 

Short answer: books about winter. Books with snow, ice, arctic in the title... They include The Palace of the Snow Queen by Barbara Sjoholm and Wandering Through Winter by Edwin Way Teale. A similar book is at hand everywhere I sit in my house or office. It's not really helping me survive the heat but I enjoy these books a great deal

A lovely article about Ringo at age 85 in today's NYT has me bopping to all the songs I've loved most of my life. I remember seeing A Hard Day's Night as a kid ~ it sent me leaping over fire hydrants: exuberance I didn't know existed. Someone who picked me up hitchhiking had a tape repeating on one side "Hey Jude" & on the other "Me & Bobby McGee"; that was all he listened to, one side then the other. He was happy to have exactly 2 songs that had everything he wanted.

Well, this happened: I've been studying Norwegian very closely for a while now & have been saying to myself that I should go to Norway & speak norsk (å snakke norsk). I checked today & fares were really reasonable so I didn't hesitate & bought a ticket for September. I'm never spontaneous like that, I never travel by myself, I feel giddy! Then I billed everyone I work for & it's exactly enough to cover the airfare. I'm excited to buy books, get to know Oslo, visit my friends in Bodø, & of course to practice my language skills. So!