Marching Orders

It’s that time of year again. Bleachers banging and clanging until they’re up. San Remo and Langham building guys erect wooden barriers around their shrubs. Slanted boards across windows. No Parking Signs for 3 days. Sweepers screaming and cleaning. Tow trucks at dawn. Opening up the streets. Taking down the traffic lights. Room for the balloons. Metal gates sliding and gliding along the curbs. Ready for the Macy’s madness to descend upon the ‘hood.

If anybody comes this year. Forecast. Windy and cold. Even the Grinch may stay indoors.

So lucky our microwave is big enough for a 25-lb. frozen turkey!!

Ides of November

6″ of snow in Central Park. Heavy and horizontal. While. Bleachers going up for the parade. Hope next Thursday will be clearer. In the meantime, enjoy a Diego Rivera mural as Matt Weiner paints a gorgeous tableau about love. The Romanoff’s in Mexico City. Sweet vignettes. Best one yet.

And. Can easily buy guns and drugs online. Yet. Still can’t figure out how to vote. Sad.

Sunday Scenes

Today’s final pairing at Ridgewood, NJ. Keegan Bradley & Bryson DeChambeau. Why aren’t they constantly on the clock? As they painstakingly perseverate over lining up each shot, there’s plenty of time to take a long walk around the block.

Never know who or what you’ll see. A visiting star from the great beyond. Or. A guy shlepping his flea market furniture find home. Only in NYC!

 

 

Street Talk

Not those Queens quips from Hot Air One. Although they qualify. It’s what’s overheard on the street. People on cell phones talking at high decibels. Intimate conversations with lovers. Bosses firing employees. The quack doc complaining about his wacky girlfriend crying on the floor in front of the elevators in the lobby of his building. Mother berating another over how to parent. Wife telling someone her husband’s working late every night. Even on weekends. She’s stuck home with the kids. Yup. It’s an audible soap opera every day. We can hear you!

Word on the street. U.S. Open. Ricky Fowler for the win. Wishing for Poulter. Looks like D.J.

Signs of the Times

It’s as true now as it was in May of 2016 in Hatfield, Massachusetts. One house. Two signs. Same message.

Socioeconomic stratification. It’s still the driving force in current geopolitical nationalistic leanings. Not silos of identities. Race. Gender. Ethnicity. Religion. Even political party affiliation. Middle classes continue to yearn for recognition, respect and relevance. Whether in Hillbilly Elegy country, America’s heartland and rust-belt. Or. In Italy. The U.K. France. Steve Bannon &  now  Barack Obama understand this. Who will embrace it and run in the next generation?

Just Sail Away

Please. Take a cruise. Around the world. Stop at every port. Buy bangles and spangles. Hillary. Nancy. Chuck. Lizzie. Bernie. Leahy. Durbin. Even Dianne. Old Dem leadership needs to take the gangplank up to the poop deck on an outgoing ocean liner. Bridge lessons. Lounge acts. Poolside leisure chairs. DNC should fund it. All aboard!

Wave goodbye to the throngs of new blood below waiting to commandeer a new day.