Random Thoughts on 9/11

On Sept. 11, 2001 the world changed, and I was altered forever.  I don't speak of it much because I'm not alone in that, but for years I'd preserve my memories and emotions in handwritten diaries.  I don't need to preserve them for myself; I can close my eyes and return to that day (and the days that immediately followed) with crystal clarity and summon every detail.

Now I'm listening to the reading of the names -- a tradition I hope never will be abandoned.  In the early years, I felt they should've hired professionals to handle this solemn task because the readers invariably mangle some of the pronounciations.  But I've changed my mind over the years as waves of love from the victims' relatives wash over me.  They add short anecdotes that bring to life my fellow New Yorkers who did not survive and reassure me that I am not alone in my grief. 

This year, an 11-year-old girl read a section of names and concluded with the name of her father, adding that she missed meeting him by ten days.  She never knew her father, yet now she's a lovely young lady participating in his memorial.  There are many other young people like her this year -- paying tribute to deceased parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, people they love -- though they weren't even alive for the horrific event that brings them together today.  May they never have to experience anything like that!

On the footprint of the World Trade Center, tranquil pools have been erected and tourists throng by the thousands.  I haven't been able to bring myself to go down there to see the improvements yet.  (As unrealistic as it sounds, I'd have preferred they left the gaping hole in the ground so future generations could see what really happened.)   Whenever I was downtown, I loved dashing through the tower lobbies and cutting through the complex.  It had its own energy and was so impressive that after college, I declared I would work there someday.  (I did, very briefly, for the owner of the New Jersey Rams semi-pro football team, who had an office in the North Tower with a breathtaking view.)   I got my first NYC parking ticket at the World Trade Center, when I mistakenly left my red Pinto on a block where parking wasn't allowed until after 7 p.m.   Even the weekend before the attack, I drove around and through the World Trade Center in a bright yellow pick-up truck, joyously blasting pop songs and thinking that life couldn't get any better.  

Now I should be working and getting ready to meet the expectations of those who regard this as any other Tuesday.  The weather is beautiful, reminiscent of that fateful day 11 years ago.  Though life grinds on, I will never forget.

Happy Anniversary, William + Kate!

A year ago, it seems the entire planet was captivated by the royal wedding of the late Princess Diana's eldest son, William, and Catherine Middleton.  I confess, I got caught up in the fervor and was thrilled to have an invitation to a "royal wedding reception" that Friday evening to celebrate their nuptials.  The ladies were asked to come in semi-formal dress with headgear; I spent that afternoon at the hairdresser, primping and fluffing and having the handmade purple silk fascinator I'd purchased specifically for the occasion fitted amongst my curls.

The gala was hosted by "Margie, Queen of Stewarts" -- my sister's very British mother-in-law -- and it was a celebration, indeed.  Margie outdid herself!  She'd asked her sisters in England to send banners and flags bearing the smiling faces of the royal couple, which festooned her home.  Tents and heaters were installed outside to accommodate everyone on the eclectic guest list.  A tape of the entire event -- from guest arrivals to the wedding ceremony to the official "first kiss" on the Palace balcony -- was replayed on televisions upstairs and downstairs.  She served a delicious recreation of the wedding cake plus authentic British fare.

Best of all, the party guests were as delighted as I to be part of the celebration.  The festive spirit was infectious!  The love and emotion of the moment could not be denied.  Everyone was pulling for the royal couple to "live happily ever after."  We ate, drank, clapped and toasted -- and for a few brief hours, our own problems faded into the background as we shared William and Kate's hope and joy.

Today, I've poured a glass of wine and turned on the "telly" to watch the anniversary specials.  It's a pleasure to browse through my scrapbook of Margie's stateside royal wedding reception and savor the sweet memories of that day.  I'm a hopeless romantic, and I wish William and Kate the best of everything.  I believe in fairy tales...for if it can work out for them, perhaps it can work for the rest of us, too.

Perfect Start

I'm very happy to kick 2011 to the curb. I'm not celebrating its passing, but it's nice to be quietly counting down with NY1 and contemplating the future. Skip the champagne and kisses -- there are going to be some changes made, and that takes focus and resolve.

Happy New Year!

Person of Interest

The other day I decided to take the M101 bus home from Harlem.  When it finally arrived, I was a little annoyed to see that it terminated at 96th Street instead of making its full route downtown, but lately inconvenience is inherent in the price of a MetroCard; I hopped on and told myself that the short walk from East 96th Street to my apartment would do me good.

When I disembarked, I ran smack into a production assistant for CBS-TV's freshman drama, "Person of Interest."   Because the series was filming that evening on Lexington Avenue, the buses were being temporarily rerouted and the PA was requesting that pedestrians go to the other side of the street to avoid walking into the shot.

As I followed the PA's direction, I couldn't help sneaking a peek at what was going on.  Seeing the filming in action was a bit of a thrill -- even for a born-and-bred New Yorker like me.  First of all, I really like the show.  The premise of a pair of unlikely characters trying to prevent crimes in New York is fascinating.  Its noir style and sophisticated plots are a cut above what's commonly on network television, and Jim Caviezel ("Reese") and Michael Emerson ("Finch") play so well off each other that it's easy to forget they're acting.  To keep things interesting, the writers have infused the plotline with an homage to "The Fugitive," having a female detective (the terrific Taraji P. Henson) on the tail of the good guys.

Part of the fun for me each week is recognizing the streets, shops and landmarks as Reese and Finch hide in plain sight.  I'm very proud of how New York is portrayed throughout the series, and I told the PA as much. Often crime shows propel the drama by making the City look frightening in lieu of crisp, compelling writing.  Jonathan Nolan, the creator and executive producer, doesn't fall into that trap.  "Person of Interest" is a quirky valentine to the Big Apple.   Like Finch's relentless surveillance machine, New York's diverse urban landscape is an integral part of the cast -- and Nolan's team treats it with the respect it deserves.

As I hurried on my way, I forgave the MTA for dumping me on 96th Street.  After all, where else but in New York could one get a backstage pass to the set of "Person of Interest" for the price of a MetroCard?

Dog Days of Summer

The “dog days of summer” have taken on a whole new meaning, thanks to my friend Judith Gwyn Brown, a renowned New York artist and illustrator. Judith has illustrated more than 40 children's books -- so many she can barely keep them all straight -- and though she absolutely adores what she does, her true love is painting animals (particularly dogs).

Knowing her passion for canines, it doesn't surprise me that Judith has decided to offer a portion of the proceeds of her commissioned pet portraits to P.A.W.S. of the Vineyard, the all-volunteer, not-for-profit Pet Adoption and Welfare Service of Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts.

Not only do pet owners have a chance to have a beautiful portrait of the creature they love that's a work of fine art, they’ll be helping to save the lives of abandoned dogs and cats who might otherwise have suffered a terrible fate. For more than two decades, P.A.W.S. also has offered an Island-wide spay/neuter program with local veterinarians; proceeds from Judith’s pet portraits can be designated to provide coupons to Martha’s Vineyard pet owners to help alleviate the ever-rising cost of spaying or neutering.

I happen to know that Judith was courted by and considered charities that are a lot more high-profile than P.A.W.S. of the Vineyard, but her generosity is not born of vanity. Judith chose P.A.W.S. of the Vineyard in honor of its founder, her dear friend AnnaBell Washburn, an animal activist and one-time "mom" to 26 cats.

I find Judith's loyalty refreshing and incredibly inspiring. I hope her days are filled with opportunities to immortalize many dogs, cats and even horses for their loving families -- so that P.A.W.S. of the Vineyard will remain as vibrant as Judith is.

Lucky

Did you know that astrologers say this is the luckiest day of the year? It's certainly been a banner day for me!

Anyway, it's been a long time since I wrote and I wanted to apologize for that -- until I realized I don't have any followers (yet), so the only person I've disappointed is myself. Luckily, I accept my apology and I'm ready to move on.

Soooooo...I'm hereby officially resurrecting my blogging career. And, I promise, the next post won't be two years from now.

New Days

When I was a teen, everything seemed possible and I would take risks that surprise me now. Last week, I celebrated a "big birthday." It might not be a milestone to Hallmark, but it was big to me, since many of my relatives did not live very long lives. I am officially on the planet a year longer than my beloved Uncle Paul -- a real Damon Runyon-esque character, who taught me how to handicap the trotters (under the guise of helping me do my math homework) and let my sister and me eat Italian ices while hanging out of the sunroof of his Peugeot. I find this exhilerating. I have so many things I will do!

However, unlike my crew of teenage friends who would cheerfully egg me on to take on every challenge, from chatting up a cute stranger to trying to solve the problem of world hunger, this time around I'm surrounded by naysayers. No matter. My soul hasn't aged a bit. I'm as optimistic and determined as ever, and not only do I intend to do what I love, I'm here to cheerlead others like me.

If you're young at heart but holding back because your family, friends, your kids, the barrista at Starbucks or some news anchor is drilling into your head that you've gotta act your age -- I'm going to be your support system. I'm here to say, "Let's go!" when the wee voice in the back of your head says, "That looks fun." When everyone else is asking you why you want to it, I'm the one who will say, "Why not?"

I'm not talking about stuff that's illegal or dangerous. I just think we shouldn't hesitate to do the fave things that make us special.

Case in point. I was touring the Long Island Wine Country this weekend, and we stopped at Jason's Winery. There was a band -- the Long Island Hornets -- playing Beatles, Van Morrison, Chris Isaak covers, and some of us got up to dance. A woman with furry stilletto boots and big black sunglasses got up to boogie. People snickered at her outfit, but she didn't notice. She was glowing with happiness, enjoying the music and the gorgeous fall weather. When the song stopped, she sat down at my table and we struck up a conversation. She introduced her teenage daughter and her sister and proudly regaled us with tales of her infant niece. To help us understand different milestones in the stories, she let it slip that she'd beaten cancer not once but twice. Cancer did not define her, but I'm guessing the disapproval of strangers was completely irrelevant to her after such a horrific experience. She liked her boots. She was having a ball. And she was shaping her days with her family and friends in such a way that age truly is just a number to her. I was inspired!

You've heard it before. Do what you love. Do it now. Buy that Jaclyn Smith sweater in Kmart if you like it, and don't apologize when you wear it. Drink the good red. Don't save the perfume for a special occasion, 'cause every day is a special occasion when you think about it.

OK, enough soapbox. You get the point. If life has become a ferris wheel stuck at the top, we're about to start whirling again. Get on the ride!!