Saturday, July 16, 2011

Harry's Brooklyn


I
Structure of script
Overall it is my new interpretation of life, death and spirituality presented in a coming of age story that also reveals Brooklyn as a deeply rich, fascinating and utterly unique place. I will interweave the story of my life with Harry's to highlight similarities in the lives of all people and to stress my belief that life is much simpler than most tend to believe.





Harry's Brooklyn: working sreenplay
Harry's Brooklyn

Opening:

the phone call Dad calls my phone as I am in the car with Jenny and mom on the way to an appointment“ Mike Grandpa's in the hospital. He stopped breathing several times. It doesnt sound good.”
Me to jen and mom “Al right forget about the appointment. Lets head for Brooklyn.” Jen and mom faces confused “ Why?” me: With composure “Grandpa's in the hospital and he stopped breathing several times. Lets go. I'll drive”
driving slow with concentration
Stop at a rest stop
From a distance I see mom crying kneeling by the car
We all already know
We arrive at Coney Island hospital,
I fear and despise the the guard who stands between the waiting room and emergency room. I hate authority because its a wall that prevents me from freely going to Harry, the most important person in my life and I feel time intensely. Each second I lose is crushing. I need to be in control and the lack of angers me. I get to see Harry. He's unconsciuos but I am comforted that he is “alive” and in the hospital with doctors, who at the time I still held in high regard.
I go out to the car and leave Jen and mom in the waiting room

It Friday in the late afternoon and the beginning of shabbat “time for rest” is approaching. I am approached by two Hassidic men who anxiuosly ask me if I can give them a ride home. I don't want to help them as I dont want to leave Grandpa and I don't know the area. But in a flustered state I say OK. On the ride home I tell them about grandpa and say that I too am Jewish. I sense they do not respect my liberal atheistic judaism. How ever they say they will prey for him. I sense that prayers will not help. We arrive at their house 5 minutes late. They tell me to wait as they wish to pay me. I refuse but they insist. They come back and hand me $100.
I head back for the hospital. I have no idea how to get back. I'm starting to panic. Everything looks the same. In a frenzy I press and I find my way back. I hurry into the hospital. I don't see jenny or mom. My panic heightens. I exchange nasty words with the guard. A woman in the waiting room points me in a direction they had headed. I find them eating in a diner and I begin to calm down.

I feel dirty having the $100 in my pocket on this day when Grandpa is my only concern. I decide to give half to the guard and the other half to a woman who looked in need.

That night I spent alone with him in the hospital. My uncle Robert came by with some food for me and before he left said “if he wakes up tell him I'm thinking of him. Take it easy Michael.” I felt a sense of caring and emotion from Robert something that I rarely if ever felt. Immediately my inner sense told me I would never get a chance to deliver that message.

Camera fade out

Camera fade in: in hospital room Harry in yoga corpse pose. Mom and I at his bedside.

My narrative:



My Grandfather suffered a massive stroke at the base of his brain stem. He was unconscious, but still alive breathing with the help of a respirator. I was realistic and knew that his chances for survival were slim.
But while everyone else was talking about him in the past tense as if he were already gone, I held on to hope.
I visited him every day. I could to talk to him, play music for him, and hold his hand. On my last visit I felt something was different. He seemed to ever so slightly open his eyes and look at me. When I reached out to touch him he motioned as if to say, “let me sleep”. The next day he passed away. I am not sure if my interpretation of his subtle movements were real or imagined, but the memory is beautiful and haunting to me.

Focus on eyes

Song: Paolo Nutini “Autumn”
Fade out




In the beginning
Harry was born in the lower eastside on March 19, 1921, two days before the start of spring. His father picked him up from the hospital in a Rolls Royce. As his mother holds him in her hands, she whispers sweet words of Yiddish. When he was two years old, they packed and moved to Brooklyn where he would spend the rest of his life.

Song: art garfunkel reworking of “just over the Brooklyn bridge” less cheesines

#



Harry and his family
Harry loves and adores his four sisters, especially Ellie who has Down’s Syndrome. He watches out for them and feels lucky to have them. In the fall of 1927 two of his sisters got “the cough”. They stayed in bed and waited for the doctor to visit. The doctor examines the girls. Quietly, he takes Harry's mother aside. Everyone already knows, but as the doctor confirms this, the family enters a mourning for what they know will come.

Song: Eva Cassidy “Fields of Gold” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMpJG7yj5d0

#
Harry and friends
Harry Stern is a feisty kid, with brown eyes and kinky layered hair (jewfro). The year is 1929 and he’s eight years old. He’s known around his neighborhood as the best stickball player in Brighton Beach.
Harry and his friends are always getting' into trouble, but this year is different from all the rest. The game goes like this. Each person selects a card from the deck. The one with lowest card loses. The loser has to go over to Old Morry’s house, knock on the door and ask if “joe blow” is home. Morris is a bitter old man and all the kids love to pester him.
Harry wasn’t used to losing, but this time he does. Harry reluctantly walked over to Morry’s . The plan was to knock on the door ask for “joe blow” and run as fast as he can before Morry catches him and whacks him with a rolled up newspaper. Harry is successful and everything goes as planned. Wheww!!
Harry makes it back to the Park and the guys convince him to take another try. Being that Harry never loses, he figures that there is no way he could lose again.
But Harry’s luck had run out. He lost. His faced turned white. What was he going to do?
Quick on his feet, he came up with an idea that just might work. He headed home to see his little sister Jesse. He told her that he needed to get dressed up like a girl. Jesse got out the lipstick and Harry stepped into a dress.
He lightly knocked on Morry’s door. As Harry’s eyes met his, he sweetly asked in a falsetto voice “is Joseph Blow home?
Morry was caught off guard leaving Harry with enough time to get away.


The “Father”
Sam and Harry
Harry doesn’t know what to make of his father, Sam. As a ten year old, they would walk along the street together. Harry would often look up at him with wonder and awe. One day everything would change. As a young lady passes by, his father whispers, “I could have her.” Harry knows this sixteen year old girl and he has respect for women in spite of the vulgar example that his dad led. It is then that Harry knows he will not follow in his father’s footsteps.

You did not want to cross Sam Stern, his temper was legendary. Once when a customer refused to pay up for a paint job, Sam covered the apartment in black, sticky tar. Sam held many jobs, Police Chief, Fire Chief, and for some reason he always had money for new toys, like a speed boat or fancy car.
Whenever Harry’s dad stopped by, he always as handed him a one dollar bill. At that time, it was enough to do just about anything on Coney Island. First stop was Nathan’s for a five cent Hotdog. Five cents would also buy you admission to a Freak Show. With names like Zippo and Pippo and the Bearded Lady, Harry felt like he was on another planet.

Insert coney island 1920’s 30’s research

Skippy
Skippy was much like Sam. He fathered five pups and left them with their mother. Skippy lived in Harry’s apartment and frequently relieved himself on the family couch. He was “King of the Neighborhood” or at least that’s what he thought. This is a common delusion among most dogs.



The Chimp
Harry came home from school one day to a very big surprise. A chimpanzee greeted him at the door. Harry’s father, had bought the monkey from a guy who did sidewalk shows. His father figured that if a monkey could be trained to grind an organ and act like a kid, he could probably be trained to retrieve beer from the ice chest. The chimp’s name was Chump. “Chump the chimp”. Unfortunately, things weren’t working out and his father was talking about getting rid of Chump. Harry couldn’t lose Chump. He was his new best friend. Once again he needed a idea.
Harry asked his father if Chump could stay if Chump brought in some money. His father agreed for the time being. Harry recognized Chump had a lot of strength and thought that he might make a good boxer.

Insert coney island 1920’s 30’s research

Harry borrowed his friend Mikey’s boxing gloves and brought Chump over to the ring over in Coney Island. The famous Max Baer was knocking out guys left and right. As chump‘s turn came up, Harry got more and more nervous. Chump was about one-eigth the size of Max. The bell rang and the fight was on. But not for long, because Chump hopped on to Max’s shoulders from behind. Disoriented, Max stumbled. Chump turned around and sprung his little arms. Fifteen hits to the face in one minute was enough to take down the Bear. Chump was a champ and Harry was rich.



Duddy’s Apartment
Harry and Duddy were first cousins, so they hung out occasionally. Duddy lived on the second floor of his building. The window was directly above a bus stop. People were always standing, waiting for the bus. As two wisecrackers, Duddy and Harry loved to harass people. They would each take a turn with their pea shooters. The object was to hit someone without the person knowing what happened. Harry was a good aim and he spotted the perfect victim. A man with no hair. The pea ricotched beautifully off of his shiny bald head. What Duddy and Harry did not expect was revenge.
The steaming red faced man knew exactly where that pea had come from. He was sick of people taunting a man with no hair. He stormed up the stairs and pounded the door as hard as he could. Harry and Duddy hid under the bed and held their breath. Three minutes later the racket stopped. The door stayed hinged and Harry survived another day.


Yiddish, the Secret Language
Harry’s parents were Russian and Polish immigrants. They spoke a secret language that they taught to him, Yiddish. All of his friends knew the language and this allowed them to communicate secretly with each other. When the boys from Sheepshead bay came on to Harry’s turf all of his guys were ready. Although the Sheepshead Bay boys were older and stronger, Harry’s crew had the edge. Larry was based on the roof and the rest of the guys spread around the block. Each boy was armed with a pocketful of rocks. Larry would give up the positions of the Sheepshead Bay boys calling out in Yiddish…….


Shlomo the homeless guy
Unfortunately Harry and his friends weren’t always the “good guys”. Shlomo slept on park benches and wandered the neighborhood, never bothering any body. Harry’s group liked to practice their aim by taking pot shots at him. He would normally never fight back, but one day he did. The rock flew directly into Harry’s mouth chipping his front tooth. Mistakenly Harry ran to his father, who was an expert at revenge and showed him his tooth. Harry wanted revenge but not the kind that Sam would bring. Shlomo was beaten senseless and left for dead. Harry held great power, but from that day on he knew he had to be careful with its use.

Song : Bruce springsteen (acoustic) “the wrestler”
repeat for glimpses of my struggles

Teenage years
summers at duddy's house. racetracks and girls
Harry's attempt to untie a corset with little success



Before he leaves for the war
Dream sequence: Before Harry met Sylvia there was Marie, the professional roller skater.


Army Signal Corps
Harry works up in the poles, behind and below, the war is raging. In the barracks Tony says, “Harry I should let you have some of this French girl” Getting an STD was not on Harry’s wish list. The young French girl he spent time with was only a friend, who helped pick out gifts for the young American girl, Sylvia, waiting at home.Harry would always remain faithful.
incorporate philosophy of anne frank , despite everything i still believe people are good
As he looks through the daily reports, he reads “Max Klein killed in action” It was his best friend and the words hit him like a bullet.
Harry goes out for a walk alone at night and as he shuffles along he breaks down into uncontrollable tears. He thinks about all they had been through together. As an atheist there is not much solace only acceptance. His tears begin to recede. He sits down and looks up toward the stars.

Song: bruce springsteen “tom jode”” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKKpmbcSe5E
repeat for glimpses of my bipolar hell
I'm completely alone in my room. Days upon days pass. I feel as though my life is a living hell. My hell is dark and deep. I am in a free fall reaching depths I did not know existed. The result is similar to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. When I do come back I am deeply scarred. I have been through battle


The Return Home
The wedding at the Handwerkers house (Nathan’s)

(only the music can be heard peoples voices are muted)Song: Ben Folds “The Luckiest” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_XwAKrLidw
montage of photos and slow video, glimpses of joy. Harry and Sylvia dancing holding each other close, smiling. The party is filled with people all Jewish. A result of the old world

#

interwoven with glimpses of my wedding
Sayra and I moving to the same rhythm. Our party is made up of few people from all different cultures. Spanish, Asian, American. A result of the modern mixed world



Watch Shop
Harry had become a watch repairman, a profession that requires patience and a deft touch. His coworkers come from all walks of life. A young black man named Claude Brown works in the shop. Claude would later go on to write the classic book Manchild In the Promisedland. But before his fame he would frequently rob the store. It was something everyone knew, but no one would say.
Mr Fujiyama was another character of the shop. He was a new immigrant who struggled to understand the American way. Mr. Fujiyama asked Harry why Americans would waste so much money on birthday gifts. When his young son turned 1 years old, he decided to give him a practical toy to play with. He believed that his son would find enjoyment with cardboard. More specifically it was the cardboard that is left after a roll of toilet paper is finished. It was ingenious, melding the ideas of recycling, thrift, and fun.
----------------------------------------------------------




Fill in later years (vitamins, tai chi, feeling like a kid again)

struggle between "natural" and "unnatural", eastern western, vitamins medicine
heart problems, solgar vit, gary null, the psychologist, dr unger, "I don't understand" the date with the nurse

The evolution to who he ultimately became
Shuns money
Shuns fame
Values simplicity
Man of peace
Quiet inspiration

Harry would always say “I feel like a kid.” “My doctor says I'm the healthiest patient he has.” He felt as though through vitamins he had found the key to health. Unfortunately, his guide in this world, Gary Null he had never met. He listened to him religiously. But Harry treated his health alone and silently. He was not aware that he had gone too far at times and as a result he had actually done harm to his body
All really was not well and he could not accept this. He had problems with his heart and for this he sought traditional medical care. But as he continued to have problems he confided in me “ I don't understand.” He was at a loss for why this youthful spirit in a body that he thought had so much time left was faltering and he wasnt able to fix it.

On the outside he was full of youthfullness and energy but inside he had suffered greatly. He was determined to stick by his wife who ordered him around, showed him no love and slowly tortured him. It was the right thing to do he thought, the honorable thing to do. He was determined to be everything his father wasn't. He confided a flood of personal feeling with a young female psychologist. When she visited as he layed in the hospital she told my mother “ this was the first and only time he listened to me. He always had so much to say”

Funeral: insert my eulogy

Return to my narrative:
song: "Let it be me" Ray la montagne play softly http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LWpw3CMCEg

#
He left behind in body what seemed like a shattered family. I began to forget , continued my own suffering, and drifted thru life, with occasional moments of clarity. Slowly guided by his inspiration, not always knowing it came from him…. In what seemed like an instant, but took a lifetime…. I too begun to wake up.


start softly, slowly turn up
Song: Louie Armstrong “what a wonderful world” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5IIXeR5OUI&feature=related

camera fade in: a bird takes off for flight. through his eyes we see natural, raw beauty flying over mountains, rivers,
valleys. It is the complete opposite of Brooklyn, a concrete jungle, where most of the film takes place, but it reveals the truth and is the beauty Harry was always looking for and perhaps never or rarely found in his time on earth.

End
For Grandpa



The following are mostly written to jog my memory as I try to describe the realtionship between Harry and I
From my earliest memories I was always in awe of Harry. I was fascinated by his stories true or not. I loved his bozo the clown hair and was always eager to rub the bald top of his head. I cherished every single moment with him. As we lived 16 hours away by car in Tennessee, I would only see him 2 times a year.
Once while my grandparents prepared to leave my grandmother said to me “michael we're leaving are you going to miss us?” I responded “I don't care if you leave but I want Grandpa to stay.”
My childhood was mainly friendless accompanied by cartoons. I had often told Grandpa how amazing these cartoons were that I was obsessed with. One saturday morning I convinced to take a look. His was thoroughly unimpressed and left after a few minutes. I was truly perplexed that he did not awsomeness that I saw.

One Hannukah spent in Brooklyn at their dingy and very Brooklyn apartment. I threw one of my frequent temper tantrums. I was very angry at the toys I had received and spun into a rage. My father too k me to the incinerator with my toy and threatened to drop it down the firey hot chute.

On on of their visits to Tennessee, they took Jenny and I to Swenson's for ice cream. I was 4 and chose bubble gum ice cream of course for all the bubble gum. My grandmother then preceded to throw away all of the bubblegum except for one piece. It was then that I realized how cruel and bitter she was. However looking back chewing bubblegum while eating ice cream does in fact seem strange, stupid, and dangerous.

While eating pizza at Mr. Gatti's I began to have a craving for my cartoons. I said to Harry. “Ask them to put the 'toons on.” After repeated requests he relented. Music started playing and I continued to complain. “What's the matter?, he said, “They put some tunes on.”
On one visit to brooklyn Harry took Jenny and I to the park. I was about 4 years old wandered away, and got lost. Through my tears every building looked the same and I was certain I would never see my family again. A fat Italian tried to comfort me to no avail. Luckily Grandpa found me.

As a teenager I wanted Harry to experience the amazing food at the United Nations restaurant. He called up to make reservations and they told him about their “jacket policy” We arrived the next day in our rain coats.

The Nurse
While in a manhattan hospital for a heart procedure Harry was attended by a beautiful asian nurse. I got her phone number and we set up to go on a date.
Before I headed out of his apartment for the date Harry said. “I wish I could be there on the date. I wish I was a fly on the wall and I could watch the whole thing.
It turned out the date was a disaster and one of the most uncomfortable experiences in my life. If I could turn back time I would have gladly traded places with him.
As a teenager while my undiagnosed bipolar continued for a short while I was very hurt by Harry. Jenny and I were spending time alone with Harry and Sylvia. They jealously denied our requests to visit my dad's 96 year old aunt. I ended up crying for which my Grandmother coldly scolded me “Boys arent supposed to cry. After our visit Grandpa told my mom that they both believed there was something deeply wrong with me.
relationship between grandpa and I
my sickness
my adolescence- phone conversations


Saturday, April 2, 2011

Tico (Empire) State of Mind

Tico State of Mind

Stolen from the lyrics empire State Of Mind by Jay Z

[Miki]

yeah

Yeah I'm out that Tennessee.

Now I'm down in Costa Rica.

Right next to Gibson

But I'll be a jew forever

I'm the new Jesus

And since I made it here

I can make it anywhere

(Yeah they love me everywhere)

I used to cop in Balmore

All of my Anarchists (Hey yo)

Right there off of *St Paul

Brought me back to that *Red Emma’s

Took it to my stash spot

1 e chase st

Catch me in the kitchen like *Einstein whipping Brain Crack

Cruising down Charles street

Off-black Trek bike

Driving so slow

(but SY D, it's from Texas!!)

Me I'm out that PigStuy

Home of that boy Fulmer

now I live on La Nacion

and I brought my boys with me

Say what up to Hue Vos

Still sipping Beer

Sitting courtside

Vols and Vols give me high-5

Nica, I be Spiked out

I could trip a referee

...tell by my attitude that I'm MOST DEFINITELY FROM...

[Sayra]

Costa Rica!!!!

Jungle where dreams are made of,

There's nothing you can’t do,

Now you're in Costa Rica!!!

These dirt paths will make you feel brand new,

the sun will inspire you,

Let's hear it for Costa Rica, Rica, Rica

[Miki]

I made you a hot jew,

Catch me at Neyland with Bubba at a Vol game, Oh wait, Fuck y’all

sh-t I made the Vol hat more famous than a Vol can,

you should know I bleed Orange, but I ain't a fruit tho,

but I got a gang of Christians walking with my clique though,

welcome to the Latin Pot,

corners where we selling hammocks,

Afrika bambaataa sh-t,

home of the reggaeton,

red cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back,

for foreigners it ain't fitted act like they forgot how to act,

8 million stories out there and they're naked,

city it's a pity half of y’all won’t make it,

me I gotta write me a blog and I got it made,

If Jeezy's payin Houston, I’m paying Steven Pearl,

3 dice cee-lo

3 card marley,

San Roque parade, rest in peace Bob Marley,

Statue of Street Sweeper, long live the ,

long live the buddha yo,

I’m from the Tico State thats…

[Sayra]

In Costa Rica!!!!

Jungle where dreams are made of,

There's nothing you can’t do,

Now you're in Costa Rica!!!

These dirt paths will make you feel brand new,

the sun will inspire you,

Let's hear it for Costa Rica, Rica, Rica

Welcome to the bright light..

[Miki]

Lights is blinding,

girls need blinders

so they can step out of bounds quick,

the side lines is blind with casualties,

who sip the lite casually, then gradually become worse,

don’t bite the apple Eve,

caught up in the in crowd,

now you're in-style,

and in the Summer gets hot en vogue with your skin out,

San Jose is a pity on a whim.

good girls gone bad, the city's filled with them,

*Janie took a bus trip and now she got her bust out,

everybody ride her, just like a bus route,

Hail Mary to the city your a Virgin,

and Jesus can’t save you life starts when the church ends,

came here for school, graduated to the high life,

prostitutes, *dirty gringos, addicted to the limelight,

*S E X got you feeling like a champion,

the city never sleeps better slip you a *Klonapin

[Sayra]

Costa Rica!!!!

Jungle where dreams are made of,

There's nothing you can’t do,

Now you're in Costa Rica!!!

These dirt paths will make you feel brand new,

the sun will inspire you,

Let's hear it for Costa Rica, Rica, Rica

[Sayra]

Un mano in the air for the little country,

No lights, big dreams all looking pretty,

no place in the World that can compare,

Put your candles in the air, everybody say yeaaahh

come on, come,

yeah,

[Sayra]

Costa Rica!!!!

Jungle where dreams are made of,

There's nothing you can’t do,

Now you're in Costa Rica!!!

These dirt paths will make you feel brand new,

the sun will inspire you,

Let's hear it for Costa Rica, Rica, Rica

[End]

Send "Tico State Of Mind" Ringtone to your Cell

Saturday, March 12, 2011

The end of the world is coming?

Some religious people point to world events and worry about the end of days.

WE live in an Information Age, 24 hours news, Internet.....

What do you think the Plague, the middles ages, the Inquisition, Trail of Tears, Slavery, Civil War,WW1, World War 2, Vietnam looked like? The Garden of Eden

Is the US an empire?

Is the US an "empire"?

we in fluence world politics, world finance, maintain over 1000 military bases

We have started wars of so called peace, to bring about "something better" through violence

Empires oppress, police, exert force, look after their own interests

All empires have followed the same arc. they rise and fall. Is that the destiny of the US?

Can empires ultimately do good?

Do truly great societies want to be empires?

Can the US bring about world peace, world democracy?

What is the word for a great, balanced nation of peace and altruism? Possibly thats a word that doesn't exist. Is anarchy the only answer?

Old tired lettter to GWB

George W. Bush, obviously you started those wars to extend your pathetic presidency. If there was a god he would surely sit you down for a very long lecture. If there was a devil he would most definitely molest you for the end of time.

But while you enjoy your time on Earth, you should take a tour of your legacy. Visit the new iraqi vacation spots, the newly over flowing cemetereriesfilled children who died under the guise of the democracy that you waved in their faces only to secure the rights to a commodity that powers our cars, runs our a/c, feeds our vanity, lust, gluttony......

We all are hurting, suffering more now. The world cries for of Your actions

George have you honestly read the bible? Do you know those 10 commandments. Did you know you were playing the role of Ceasar.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Coney Island Story by: my dad

I was so impressed when I read this story written by my dad that I had to share it.
Interesting to note most of this story is based on truth. His brother that died in the war is actually him. He came close to being drafted, but argued that his religious beliefs, which he did not have as an atheist, made him a pacifist. As a kid he did not like his given name Ira and wished that he had been named a more common Steve. But in time he learned to appreciate his somewhat unique name

I can’t remember

A “B” reflected in the window. B! Brooklyn, that’s where I grew up. It was so long ago, I can barely remember. Mom and dad were alive, and it was before my brother Steve died in the war. Somehow I survived, or did I? I can’t remember.

Oh those were the sweet days.

Dad and I went to see the Dodgers play a doubleheader on a hot Sunday in July. What was the name of the stadium? something with an “E” I think. Sitting in the stands, we were all sweating. I was eating a big, juicy hotdog, oozing with yellow-brown mustard and lots of salty, delicious sauerkraut. I can still smell and taste it. The batter swings, snap, and the crowd roars. Who won that game, dad? I can’t remember.

We lived in Coney Island, right on the beach.

One summer, I found a ring in the sand. It was gold and had a turquoise stone. Wonder where it is now? I could sure use some dough.

Met a girl on the beach. She was so beautiful, but she broke my heart.

No air conditioning back then, only the natural kind when the darkness fell and the wind kicked up across the moonlit water. Through the open window, I could hear the crashing waves, and in the distance, the ding, ding, ding of the bell buoys. It put me right to sleep. Wish I could still sleep that well. Seen too much, done too much. Now I can barely sleep at all.

The games we played in the schoolyard; stickball, basketball, and handball. Do you remember skelly, the game played with bottle caps?

In the summer, Steeplechase Park was great, but we were too poor to afford the fancy Coney rides. All I could do was watch in awe and envy of those who floated to the ground on the parachute jump or who whirled and twirled on the Cyclone coaster. Then there was Bob, the overweight and somewhat grungy carnival guy who had all those girls hanging around. What did they see in him?

Each day, the old men and women would bring their flabby bodies to sit naked at the Turkish baths. Too embarrassing for a teenage boy to do, but wouldn‘t the soothing, warm water and hot steam baths feel wonderful now.

The crazy woman who rode the bus every day, sat in the last row, opened the window, and talked to herself or anyone in earshot of the passing bus.

Getting old and crazy is not fun.

Now where was I? Where am I? Is any one listening?

Hey buddy, can you spare a couple of bucks for an old man to get a cup of coffee and a newspaper?

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Mount Vernon Baltimore

Mt. Vernon

I lived in Mt. Vernon a neighborhood in north Baltimore for two years. According to statistics, Mt . Vernon is one of the most impoverished neighborhoods in the city. I however see Mt. Vernon as probably the richest, poorest, most liberal part of Baltimore. It is home to the wealthy who occupy the condos, the disenfranchised who occupy the streets, and the homosexuals and anarchists who occupy the liberal mindedness. My residence was The Belvedere Hotel, which was built in 1904 and more recently converted into condominiums. The building itself contained three bars, two restaurants and countless colorful people. Strangely I often felt like I was the only person who lived there, because certain times of the day the building seemed completely empty and lonely.
It would be possible to never leave the building and still eat, drink and socialize. Many people including myself and the custodians sifted through the trash. For some reason residents would discard expensive well functioning items like portable dvd players, furniture , and new turntables.

Living in a hotel comes with many advantages. As most women believe you are by definition wealthy they are very eager to see your home and literally sleep in your bed. As I knew the inner workings of the building, I could take the freight elevator past the guards and into a swanky party serving incredible food that I did not pay for.
Gary the rotund black doorman is the face of the Belvedere who is at the same time notoriously friendly and notoriously shady. Nearly all of the Belvedere staff was black but that did not create a barrier as most residents were friendly and actually very fond of most of the people who worked there.
A board consisting of owners dictated the rules which I often liked to break. . I decided to create innovative community programs, like for instance leaving magazines or books in the mail room to be traded amongst the residents. The board did not like this so they tried to put an end to it by posting a notice on the community message board. In a drunken rage, I solved this problem by taking the message board with me.

The lower commercial space of the building was owned by the Russians. They looked suspicious, were suspicious and by all accounts were criminals funneling their money into a restaurant that seemed to have no intention of making money. Next to them was an unusual space below ground that was regularly being shut down by police raids and liquor board. Without liquor to sell they targeted young inner city kids which consisted of rival gang bangers ultimately resulting in occasional shots being fired.

A prison three blocks to the east hung a banner reminding people to “Drop the gun or pick a room”, but as I said that was three blocks, in Baltimore terms another universe.

Mt. Vernon might be best known as the gay capital of Baltimore. Down the street was the Hippo, a gay nightclub which was across the street from Grand Central a gay bar. Next to the Hippo is Eddie’s a small traditional grocery store, where all the people come together; to shop not necessarily to intermingle. Each year the neighborhood hosts gay pride. Gays, bis, tris, straights, men, women, and all that is in between attend. It is in one sense about being open, but also in another about shocking and possibly pushing those more conservative further away.

Across the street from entrance to my building is a beautiful old church which overflows with music and black patrons every Sunday. I always wanted to join in, but this was a racial barrier in which I felt I was not allowed to cross, but true Christians should be welcoming.

I frequented Red Emma’s, an anarchist collective run bookstore coffee shop for free internet, yerba Mate, a tea like drink sipped out of a gourd, and political conversation. The collective consists of intellectual snobby, hipsters, who actually have become the people they hate. One of the founding members admitted to me that collectivism does not work in practice as some people are forced to take charge where others fail. Enzo is the most famous customer. He is an overtly friendly homeless black man who hocks stolen goods to support his drug habit.
When I first arrived in Baltimore I decided I wanted to be a part of the hippy, dumpster diving, bicycle riding, deep thinking scene. I first became friends with a young lesbian girl, but our friendship never evolved partly due to the fact that I was attracted to her. I then dated a bisexual polyamorous girl. She was a member of the Red Emma’s collective which briefly elevated my status, but I soon broke up with her after she candidly admitted to having HPV
I worked as a busboy at XS one of the many restaurants in Mt. Vernon. Most of the staff were either students at MICA, the art college or former students. Working there I was allowed into their scene, but after I was fired I was ostracized and never again let back in.

As an entrepreneur I turned an ice cream cart into a coffee and pastry cart. I branded myself The Coffee Peddler and stepped onto the turf of The Hot Dog Guy. The Hot Dog Guy owned the corner directly to the northwest of my building. He was a large, old man with a thick foreign accent. He sold hot dogs and drinks in the afternoon.

My license specified that I be moving unless I was making a sale, but my cart was so heavy it was practically impossible to do. I setup early in the morning and sold a quick breakfast to people on their way to work. Although the Hot Dog Man never saw me, he soon heard of me.

After I realized morning traffic was slow, I moved to Pennsylvania Train Station which is just over the border of Mt. Vernon. One day returning from work I crossed the path of Thee Hot Dog Man. Straining, on the verge of a heart attack he let me know that the block belonged to him.