On Beating a Dead Horse

When There's Nothing Else To Do.

Stuck in a hole of self-pity and defeat, it can take the most unusual trigger to pull us back to the livelihood of our daily routine. And when that moment finally appears, we have the opportunity to incorporate our self-discovery into the person we're becoming on the other side of the funky threshold, be it a newfound passion for horses or a sudden onset for all-things-Kanye. The important things is we've come out on top, as we always do, only this time with an extra sway or swagger to our previously monotonous step. Enjoy!

On Things That Don't Changed

Until They Do.

If and when we choose a life partner, the reminders of life's messiness to come - responsibility, compromise, aging - remain on the peripheral of the heart palpitations ignited by hand-holding, comfort solicited by overarching promises, and fantasies about unborn children. Everything else - the stuff that supposedly tears apart both individuals and 50% of marriages in the United States - is too incomprehensible to face at a time when we're still naively invincible. To make this choice is to assume we are part of the 50% who will defy the odds, to continue to make vows of eternal sincerity well after the wrinkles have spread beyond our laugh lines, and to know without knowing that we have what it takes to courageously embrace in sickness and in health, etc etc etc. Until we're proven wrong, we should dance like nobody's watching and love like we'll never be hurt. Enjoy!

On Being Thankful

For Beautiful Things.

Thanksgiving is the perfect opportunity to stop in the tracks of our busy lives and take notice of the world happening around us. Too often, we get caught up in the infinite lists of things to get done / people to see / jobs to complete / children to care for that we forget to laugh / reflect / breathe / listen. And yet, here we are, one month before we make empty vows, year after year, to pay attention to the lives passing us by, with a weekend specifically devoted to recalling our thankfulness for friends, family, turkeys and tofurkys because even we deserve a forced moment to listen to the music we never hear, admire the photos we never saw, and reunite with old friends whose facebook statuses we no longer admire. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours; see you next week. Enjoy!

(PHOTO - THANKSGIVING DAY PARADE 1940)

On November 22nd, 1963

Forty-Seven Years and One Day Later.

Forty seven years ago today, people around the world woke up to the sad realization that yesterday's events were not, in fact, just a bad dream. The recollection of the details of one's whereabouts when President John F. Kennedy was shot is as vivid as those of 9/11 by generations not yet born (in 1963). For me, on September 11th, the only creative writing professor I ever had, a sixty-something, eccentric artist whose life experiences both preceded and included the unique events of the 1960's, tearfully confessed to pitying my classmates, at 8:30 that morning, for the unavoidably fearful lives we and our children were bound to lead. Her words felt cruel and unfair, though perhaps quite accurately informed by other great American losses that leave indelible scars on the hearts of the world's hopeful participants, like the one that happened forty-seven years and one day ago. (Enjoy.)

On the Pros and Cons of Singledom

Every Rose Has Its (Prickly) Thorn.

Being single, no doubt, has its ups: unshared google calendars that don't require consistent updating, Sunday afternoon solo rituals uninterrupted by pre-planned 'together' time, always anticipating the last remnants of cleanclothes/ shampoo/ chocolatepudding/ dvrspace, and unpredictable flirtations with open-ended possibilities (weddings/ familyvacations/ onenightstands/ freeconcertticketsandcompliments). Until the moments in which the cons take over: unending leaks in the kitchen ceiling, other people's relationship statuses, fevers without chicken soup and sympathy, and endless invitations to mistletoe-infested holiday parties. But whether your glass is half empty or full, color-coding google calendars is a great distraction from facebook statuses that deserve screwyou's instead of congrats, and drinking (free) alcohol at parties will likely to induce good-enough-sweet-nothings from Mr./Ms.-You'll-Do-For-Now under the sparking, plastic hemi-parasitic plant designated to making out for single folks and couples alike. Enjoy!

On Overcoming Demons

Past, Present, and Future.

No matter how hard we try to escape the past, our decisions are inescapably haunted by remnants of childhood woes, whether we're repeating unwanted history or dictating an unrecognizable path towards a life we've never known. Marriages are solidified by fearful victims of divorce, children are avoided by post-traumatic-childhood sufferers, and careers are pursued with scrutinizing apprehension. Enjoy!

on poems for daylight savings

you wrote it, i edited.

walking to the car
my mom was watching me go
i turned around and yelled

hows our neighbor doing?

the old man who stands outside in his front yard always talking and chatting

my whole life, he's there
telling us when there's parking, etc
and he was recently
sick

she yelled back, he died two days ago
i yelled back really? that's terrible.
and she agreed
but we were far away

in the dark

a few steps later
there was a box of romance novels
i yelled back about them
to her
but she'd seen them
gone thru them earlier
i got in the car
and drove home

On Finding Our Passion

Now and Later, or Maybe Never.

For those who knew they wanted to be a doctor/lawyer/nycfirefighter (which, btw, requires you apply before age 27) when they grew up, the rest of us are dying to know their secret. Decisions are hard enough without flashes (before our unfocused eyes) of unfulfilled careers reminding us that, perhaps, we'll never come to our own aha! moment and, besides, we prefer to take pleasure in simple things like walks through the local park on Saturdays after another disappointing work week, long dinners with friends where we commiserate over the latest facebook scandal, and the resurfacing of Kevin Arnold on The Hub. Or so we tell ourselves, at the not-so-off chance that lights don't appear at the end of our tunnels and taking one-day/career/adventure-at-a-time remains the eternal lens through which we lead our lives. Enjoy!

On The Things They Carried

Back to their Homes.

Knowing how to support a loved one through a traumatic, isolating experience of which we have minimal understanding is a challenge unto itself. We can grasp clues from movies and novels, self-help books, and support groups, but each person's relationship bears its own tacit consequences which surface at unexpected moments. And so it goes in relationships, regardless of its shape and size, when support supercedes sickness and (in) health, sibling rivalry and rights of passage, breakups and makeups, losses and recognitions, lessons we hate to love to learn, and everything in between. How lucky we are to experience life in these ways, even when we're sure we're out of luck forever. Enjoy!

On Last Chances

And Making the Most of Them, No Matter.

We've only one life to right our wrongs, find the ups amidst the downs, seek optimism where unfairness reigns, and maintain confidence in the face of uncertainly. But sometimes wanting something so badly, regardless of our willingness to sacrifice our pets/children/pacman-atari-game, does not a just world make, and we're forced to accept that life-saving moments of closure are simply cognitive tools to help us cope with the harsh realities of our one and only chance to live it up. C'est la vie. Enjoy!

On True Winners

And the Value of Being the Best.

What's the point of playing if you can't win the game? Ask my family and they'll overwhelm you with stories of childhood tantrums and sore-loser-syndrome from yours truly. I never understood why everyone's-a-winner caught on as well as it did, except, perhaps, to appease the losers. Yes, I said it: The Losers. Enjoy!

On Judgmental Adults

Growing Out of Innocence.

Bullying children can be chalked up to peer pressure, troubles at home, or age-defined naivety, and (hopefully) cured with an after school special on how to treat thy neighbor. But when acting like an adult lies at the route of the problem - insecure role models who never abandoned the judgmental name-calling for unconditional acceptance and love - the balance between sticks and stones and words-that-will-never-hurt-(me and you and everyone we know) becomes more equal than seems fair. Enjoy! (POST SCRIPTUM - GREAT FILM.)

On XOXO, Peace, Love, and Later Tater!

Finding the Perfect Way to Say Goodbye.

The electronic mail that flies back and forth between friends / co-workers / ex-lovers / siblings / strangers to break up the work day / finalize decisions / share ideas / make accusations has become second nature to most of us with desk jobs and portable, hand-held computer-phones. We skim their content, miss key points, ignore spelling errors, and multi-task responses until the moment we're stopped dead in our tracks. The inappropriate attachment is mistakenly sent in haste to our boss. 'Reply to all' magically appears without permission. And LOVE pops up in the signature, unannounced. The insignificant parting words between pen pals all of a sudden means everything, exacerbated by the emotional-less computer screen that allows our imaginations to wander, prescribing unrequited affection / defiance / declaration / passive-aggression to otherwise mundane farewell remarks: LOVE insinuates in love, BEST feels curt, XOXO is practically a grope fest, and SINCERELY is anything but sincere. Enjoy!

On Our Endless Imaginations

And Its Limitless Possibilities.

In spite of the timeless warnings about judging books by their covers, our uniquely human, innate ability to devise extra/ordinary explanations about other people's lives is what makes our existence that much more exciting. The 50-something, handsome executive with red roses in hand on his way to apologize for unkind words / forgotten birthdays / mis-prioritized weekend plans. The tearful teenager just abandoned by her first love. The weary patrons in hospital scrubs who undoubtedly spend hours holding hands of patients whose mothers / neighbors / best friends are called into work unexpectedly but promise to return before visiting hours end. The young child silently sucking his thumb while inquisitively taking in his surroundings falls asleep each night to the echoes of bedtime stories about cowboys and unicorns, alternately shared by his parents who never fight. The hunched old man whose fractured steps would falter without the assistance of his intricately-carved, wooden cane - a gift from his WWII comrade - consumed by memories of his boyhood in Colorado where he skipped rocks, climbed trees, and obediently tended to family chores. And that thin, tall, shaggy-haired friend-of-a-friend, the perfect father to my unborn children evident in his posture which intimates 400-page historic novels read by firelight and daydreams, identical to my own, about slumber parties under star-filled country skies. Oh, imagination, how dull the world would be without you. Enjoy!

On Pervasive Sibling Rivalry

Cereal Box Wars, And Then Some.

Family relationships are complicated, no doubt, but the simplicity of sibling quarrels is tragically reliable. Blood relatives without the necessity of (n)everlasting vows cemented by rusty-safety-pin-induced pin pricks and unrequited declarations of eternal friendship, siblings promise lifetime companionship til death do you part, an unlimited supply of jealous jabs, and un/constructive criticism drenched in deep-rooted resentment and undeniable love that knows no bounds. Enjoy!

On Why Exercise Doesn't Suck So Much

Because It Saves Your Life.

I joined the YMCA in 2005 for one whole year and went zero times. I agree - money well spent. And the lesson I've learned since then is to keep searching until you find the exercise that suits you. For me, six years, several wasted gym memberships and an overpriced personal trainer later, I've finally found kickboxing. But sometimes, even I need to kick my own butt to walk the forty minutes or take the two trains to the class (yes, that's how much I love it) because, even when going to the gym feels like a ton of crumbling bricks on my shoulders, I'm reminded of its health benefits and the long, vibrant years ahead. So do yourself a favor and follow life's grand ol' rule for pretty much everything worth fighting for: keep searching until you fall completely in love, knowing that for every bad day, there are five great ones to follow. Enjoy!

On the Electronic Photobooth

Better than a Mirror, Sadder than a Polaroid.

Or maybe not. Pictures once worth a thousand words might actually be reduced to only a few these days. Without camouflaging our imperfections, presenting who we really are in the cyber world (or otherwise) is actually quite refreshing. Until, of course, ten photos become ten thousand, and so on, but perhaps it's but a small price to pay for vulnerability. Enjoy!

On Hanging Up the Landline, Forever

Brrring, Brrring, Brrring....

A familiar yet antiquated sound that brings us back to the long hours of incessant catchup with friends who we'd just spent the morning, afternoon, and night with, phone chord twirled around our pointer fingers until their tips turned purple as gossip about love letters and bus rides were dissected into the night. Gone are the days when screaming battles were lost to the household bill-payers who disconnected the telephone after 9pm, and lists lopsided with pros demonstrating why phone lines should be installed in the bedrooms of everyone under five feet were ignored. Family meals went uninterrupted and the unexpected surprise of call-waiting made the dash for the phone receiver (to click to the other call) a marathon worth acknowledging. Enjoy!

On Ranting and Raving

And a Whole Lot O'Guilt.

I'm a door-stander and I ain't proud. Ever since I read this rant ten short days ago, I've been overcome with guilt. Twenty-three rides later (twice/day to and from work, one day of overtime I probably deserved, and a one-way visit to the 'rents), I've perfected the head-hanging door-lean, filled with more shame and humiliation than the time I crashed into our family aquarium in 1992 (RIP Timothy the Fish). And you probably wonder why I don't change my hypocritical ways, a question I often as myself, too. The truth is I also refuse to park patiently in line to exit the FDR, feel disdain towards trick-or-treaters who ignorantly interrupt the best parts of Grey's Anatomy, and laugh at the worst kind of inappropriate jokes. And, yet, for every innocent bystander scolded at work for being late on account of my poor subway manners, or candy-less Power Ranger waiting patiently at my doorstep, I'll never fail to illuminate the MTA subway map for an out-of-towner, toss change in the direction of a pathetic attempt to replicate the Beatles, and semi-regretfully pass up a lucky penny in hopes that the next person who finds it needs the luck more than I. In life, we do what we can't until we don't, and that's just the way it goes. Enjoy!

On (Other People's) Happy Endings

Short and Sweet.

Grasping the magnitude of a single moment in time is often reserved for hindsight and all its 20/20 glory. We live in the moment, embody the mundane details, and, in an unanticipated aha moment (!), months or years down the line, recall the intimacy and importance of experiences that have transformed into scraps of memories. Hence, nostalgia is born and life is lived and lessons are learned as fluidly as new ones continue to form. Enjoy!