Category Archives: Observational


Her legs were turned inward holding the leash between. I was positioned to notice everything that happens from the waist down; In the lower regions of life. Sometimes I spend all day like that, peeking up from a book and looking at people from their knees–down.

Just when you thought it was safe to stand idly, someone, somewhere is reading your character based on your shoes, socks, positioning of your feet, and where you keep the weight of your body.

Certificate of Health

So I’m in the process of getting my Food Protection Certificate, and was on the subject of Pest Control and this fragment of a sentence struck me, “They prefer warm temperatures and do not tolerate cold temperatures… and may move outdoors into yards during warm weather,” and thought “yeah, they’re like me. They move outdoors into the yard during warm weather.”

These of course are American cockroaches.

Before I forget

I’ll tell you when you’ve taken it too far.

You know how it works. You pay for something. I pay for something. Exchange, harmony, the person who paid first is happy to be at your mercy; the person who pays second is happy to reciprocate. This is normal. But when I’m trying to leave five dollars for cab-fare and I am standing at the foot of the door putting my hand in my pocket and you’re kicking me? You’re kicking me out of the cab when I’m already out of the cab. Continue reading Before I forget

The Business

There is something sad about auditioning for Equity productions.

The audition today was for a decent role, in a more than decent theatre company. This more than decent theatre company decided to give their “Literary Associate” the task of holding auditions. If I were a director I would be at the auditions. If I was a director who already knew whom I was hiring to play so and so role, in so and so production—but by Equity rules—was forced to hold auditions, I would not be at said audition.

It’s strange. For Continue reading The Business

New York

I think it’s very easy to hate everyone. Mostly, it’s due to the organic relationships that develop in a non-stop continuum. It happens the moment you wake. Like others, you may live in a home that is not really yours. You don’t own it. You haven’t installed any curtains. The brita filter is the same brita filter the last person who lived here used, and that last person—you didn’t really know. You may rent. And probably the lease is not in your name. Maybe you have a roommate. Another person you don’t really know. Maybe he’s right outside your door. He’s at the breakfast table, waiting, your door will open sometime, and he’ll be right there; ready to be your first ‘good morning.’ You could live alone, and upon opening your eyes, you focus on a book shelf. The books don’t look familiar, except for the fact, they were the same unfamiliar books you saw yesterday. They’re not yours, you haven’t read them, and they look at you like they know you. Continue reading New York

Park People

Everyone in the park looks like a picture. This one has a bonnet, this one has a book.  This one holds a ring, this one has a smoke. Another is staring into a tree, into the ground, into the sun. It’s all the same. It’s all the same to me.

I don’t have a job. I have a job interview, which is why I’m in a park in the first place. I’m not a park person. Park people usually carry guitars, walk around with their shirts off, have this fixed stare that says ‘I’ve suffered’ or ‘life hurt me,’ but if you look just a little closer you can tell the real ones from the fakes. The fakes need props (books, bonnets, cigarettes); something to distinguish themselves from the rest. The real one’s cover it up well. They look happy. Like you and me. Probably from years of practice. The fakes look like they practice, too. They probably work on it at home before they show up. There’s a guy, just like the one I’m talking about that’s been following me all day. Continue reading Park People

Destroy the Mona Lisa


I have no idea why people want to destroy the Mona Lisa but I saw this movie about Jackson Pollack, and Ed Harris was playing the main character and in the very beginning of the film he’s spitting drunk and [barely] going up the winding staircase to his apartment and he is so soused but somehow summons the wherewithal to scream at the top of his lungs “Fuck Picasso.”

I understood the moment as jealousy. At the unfair life Mr. Pollack had so far encountered, compared to the blessed life Picasso was having. He was angry Continue reading Destroy the Mona Lisa

So, I haven’t been sleeping lately

And it might be because there’s this dark matter where my heart pumps blood to my brain. But it also could be that in my room there’s a desk and a bed. When I’m writing, I’m at the desk, when sleeping, the bed, and sometimes I write in the bed and sometime I sleep at the desk and if i’m not doing either I have to go outside cause there’s no living room in my house. So I go outside and I have a smoke and all these people along 14th street are busy and excitable and walking and clapping and they’re heels are clicking and they’ve got to be somewhere now now now and they lounge around like every corner’s their own, and ringing are phones and I don’t know if i’m writing and I don’t know if I’m sleeping, it gets complicated, but it’s my world, as it were, so someone has to take a stand.

Let’s figure out a pattern to my behavior….

1. I have no patience for everyday pleasantries. Waiting in line, there was a man and his father behind me aimed to pass, and when they realized they did, they stopped and said, “Oh, you were here first,” and I said, “I know.”

2. I have the largest pimple placed sqaurely in the middle of my forehead and got roasted at work. Even the line cook who has two fingers on his left hand got in a few jabs. That sort of thing builds character but what doesn’t build character is when a quarter-way through the abuse I ask one of the waiters, “Michelle, do you have any cover-up? Seriously.”

3. I got tickets for a play and paid a twenty-five dollar non-refundable fee applied to my american express card and the day of the play, just two hours before show time I went to a bar and ordered a ketel one on the rocks with a twist, then another kettle one on the rocks with a twist, then went outside hailed a cab went home, fell asleep. Then, when Michelle asked me the next day how was the play, I said, “Amazing.”

From Drama to Comedy

You know when you do something real, truthful, full of sincerity, gushing with genuine feeling and realize a whole bunch of years later how funny it actually was?
I imagine the writers, directors, producers and actors of this film were thinking, “Wow, we are making a movie that will touch the very core of dramatic human existence,” and didn’t realize at all that 34 years later they made a hit comedy!