Tuesday, April 25, 2006

New York, New York

I wrote the following piece several years ago when I was living in a LA and moving back to NY.


New York, New York
by Gayle Kirschenbaum



I have fallen in love with an old flame. A flame who is passionate, hot, cold, unpredictable, thunderous, steamy, takes me places I never thought I could go, keeps me up at night singing in my ears making my body pulsate.

I forgot what’s it’s like to be loved, admired, desired and turned on in a way that no other flame can do it to me like my old flame…New York.

Yes, a metropolis, a menagerie filled with yellow, white, red, black, brown. You name it; it all exists in New York. Every color of the rainbow, every language of the planet, every food of the world, every fantasy you can imagine… nearly every.

You want to dress up, put on a slinky black dress and heels and hit the street. You better believe you’ll be noticed and perhaps noticed by someone you want to be noticed by.

None of this get all dressed up and hop into you car where all which is noticed is the chrome which surrounds you. And all that is judged is the year, make and condition of your vehicle.

You are on babe, no shield around you, no car guards, just you, your walk, your sway, your smile, your stance, your glance, your attitude, you babe… it’s you on stage. It’s your time to strut, to communicate, to send out your message to all the hundreds of passersby, all the potential lovers, husbands, friends, buddies, dance partners, tennis partners, cultural partners, angels, dream fulfillers. They are all out there looking at you, thinking about you, wanting you, choosing you.

I’ve spent far too much time in Los Angeles, the heart of the entertainment industry, the city of illusions, the city of Palm Trees, plastic surgery, broken promises, rags to riches, riches to rags, bean sprouts, jimbaya juice, sunshine, more sunshine, smiles, more smiles, thank yous, hi, how are yous?, let’s do lunch, yoga, celebrity yoga, Kaballah, celebrity Kaballah, who you know not what you know, ideas--original, stolen, lost -- brilliance, creativity, hard knocks, big breaks, sex, drugs and rock and roll…alone, aloneness, isolation, depression, mood swings, failure, success, awards, Emmys, Oscars, acknowledgements, applause, fame, opened doors, come in, get out, come in, get out, yes, no, yes, no. Breathe deeply, don’t stop breathing because you must keep it together, keep going, never stop, it will happen, don’t give up, roll with the punches, stand tall, don’t hunch over, it’s time, it’s your time, it was your time, it’s your time again. Enough, stop, I want to get off of this ride!

I did. I am. I’m getting off, slowly. One foot at a time. Don’t want to fall, don’t want to lose all which I worked for, don’t want not to eat lunch in this town again, Hollywood town. Only an occasional lunch, when I’m there, when I’m not with my new lover, New York.

New York, the city that allows you to be yourself, the city where being a foreigner is the norm. The city where native born Americans can understand strong foreign accents. The city where “we all get along.” Thank you Rodney King. The city where the rich, poor, beautiful, ugly cross the same street, get wet from the same puddle and share the same frustration.

The city where you can wake up and it’s a heat wave and go to sleep and it’s hailing. Starved for nature, for trees, tired of all the cement, tall buildings, crowded streets, head up to Central Park. Escape into the meadows, rent a boat and row out on the lake, find a quiet patch of thick green grass, lay down and read a book, bring your dog, have a picnic, bring your lover, significant other, drink wine, eat cheese and bread, listen to a classical concert, watch a Shakespeare play. It’s New York, the place where all is accepted. The place where you can walk proudly arm and arm with your lover even your same sex lover.

Confused, lost not sure whether to turn right or left. Don’t worry, if you stand looking confused and happen to have a map in your hand, someone will come over to you and offer you help. If you don’t have a lost look, then stop one of the several people around you and I promise they will help you. Why, because New Yorkers are helpful! Because many New Yorkers were once newcomers and lost themselves. And if they weren’t they know what’s its like to be lost somewhere and want to help others.

I know you’re thinking I’m wearing my rose tinted glasses and New York is crowded, the people are pushy and it’s impossible to get a cab. Yeah, yeah, yeah, there’s truth to all that but so WHAT! You can’t have everything. Life is about choices and my choice is NYC. Thank you.

Tuesday morning

I actually never realized how many people in my life are reading this. I feel like I should be writing more often. I love interaction so please dont' be shy and write back. Chelsea is home sleeping or perhaps she was picked up and is hanging out with her friend Nathaniel. I escaped to a cafe and have much writing to do but emails bog me down, yet are a great way of communicating fast. I think I will use the blog now and then to publish essays I'm written in the past. Beautiful day in NY.
Enjoy!

Monday, April 10, 2006

Spring Time


Chelsea and I are heading down to Florida to visit my mom and brother and his family. I will see first hand how mom is doing since Dad's passing. By phone, she sounds great. Keeping quite busy. A Dog's Life was invited to the Festival in Avignon in June and mom and I are making a holiday of it, stopping in Germany and making a little trip in France. Should be fun. It will be the first time I traveled alone with mom but I've been saying for years from everyone in my family she is the most adventurous and most likely the one who I'd enjoyed traveling with. Haven't been in Europe since the Euros. No bargains in Europe anymore.
Due to dad's death there has been several weeks which passed that I didn't post some pictures from before. Chelsea and I went to Fire Island this winter and were there for a snow storm. It was wonderful. Here's a picture of Chelsea wearing her ski suit.

Oh, I had a bizarre dream about Chelsea. Someone had said they spotted fleas on her and I couldn't find them. I took her out for a walk and "shit" out a pigeon and then kept going and shit out another one. What the hell does that mean?
Okay, all got to go. Be well. Hugs and licks, Gayle and Chelsea