Two years ago, I stopped my bike at Sailboat Lake in Central Park and watched the hawk called Pale Male search for prey. He soared over Fifth Avenue. I tired before he did, but not before I took several photos of him dancing with the moon. Leaving the park a water fountain got all psychedelic on… Read more »
I like Central Park early in the morning. The light is special, the space is quiet but for the dogs off their leashes. I like that best, gives the place a country feel. Well, I was biking over there on a Sunday morning around seven when I saw this end result of a “funny thing to do… Read more »
“Get that out of your mouth.” The nun demanded. “Wha?” said the kid. “The candy.” With lots of lisping,”It’ssss not candy, it’ssss a cough drop.” The nun with pointing directions only made the boy take out a hanky and drop the drop into the snot rag. “No candy in class!” “It’sssss not candy!” The nun… Read more »
Finally, the calendar insists it is springtime in New York. Street blossoms just got in on the red eye. Walking through Central Park and the Upper Eastside I spied these scenes. Thomas Pryor’s blog: Yorkville: Stoops to Nuts
At 16, my dream job was working behind the deli counter at Daitch Shopwell. As a stock boy this would be a coup. Watching Milton or Marty cut thin slices of rare roast beef and Jarlsberg Swiss, I cried with pain. Pain that some son of a bitch was going to eat that tasty mound of meat… Read more »
Got into a sparkling new cab this morning. The seats, dashboard and windows shined. Riding my finger along the metal detail on the passenger door, I thought, the only time my brother Rory and I were ever this clean was for one lone hour at a photography studio on Third Avenue in spring 1960. I repel wool…. Read more »
When I was young, I connected with a few mothers of my friends. Sweet Mrs. Muller gave me Sloppy Joe Sandwiches, Funny and sarcastic Mrs. McMahon gave me my own half gallon of 4C Ice Tea on hot afternoons, and the intelligent and elegant Mrs. Peters (unknowingly for a short time) gave us space for… Read more »
Tonight, I’m going to my grammar school, St. Stephen of Hungary’s first ever all students/faculty reunion. I graduated in 1968 and soaring memories involving all my senses have welled up. Next Friday, I’m headed to Joe’s Pub to see the Loser’s Lounge Carly Simon/Linda Ronstadt tribute. The Losers Lounge is my favorite recurring NYC music… Read more »
March 19th is the Feast of St. Joseph ~ an East Side wide holiday in 1962 in Manhattan. The St. Joseph parish on 87th Street began as an orphanage on York Avenue (then known as Avenue A) and 89th Street in the 1800s. The cornerstone of the present church was blessed in 1894. My mother and… Read more »
I bet I can name every barber I’ve had back to five years old. I only remember nicknames for the first two on York Avenue because I didn’t know their real names. “Herman the German” and “Mickey Mouse” with his wife with Tourette’s syndrome. In a house dress with her wild gray hair, she sat next to you… Read more »
