The Newtown Pentacle

Monday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Electrical transformer explosion season has come and gone here in the ancient village of Astoria, which is a shame since the folks who work for Con Ed’s Emergency Units are nice people who seem to drink a lot of coffee and eat a lot of sandwiches, so our local delis and bagel shops profit off of their presence. Without exploding manholes, this time of year, the local business forecasts and retail economy are flat.

Last week, a humble narrator made his way into Manhattan for the first of two COVID vaccine jabs. The process was very, very NYC. You waited in a line to provide your information and display your skill at filling out forms, which allowed you to queue up into a second line where the forms were discussed again, and then a third line which led to somebody in blue clothes and a white coat who did the deed after discussing the forms again. I experienced no side effects other than a mild headache, and a minor craving for human brains. I go back at the end of March for the second jab, and the particular flavor I received was the Pfizer version. I don’t know why that’s important, but people have asked me whether it was the Coke, Pepsi, or Sprite version in the last week. There you are.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

In the meantime, I’m still avoiding the rest of you and wandering around in the dead of night. Occasion found me cowering in fear when a group of teenagers were spotted. Luckily, I was able to dive into a pile of the omnipresent litter and garbage which distinguishes Queens, and secreted myself away from their attentions. While hiding in the midden of abandoned goods, one spent his time pondering the state of the world. I also checked my email and Facebook while submerged beneath the litter camouflage. Multi task! Cowering and productivity can and do go hand in hand neatly.

I’ve been allowing myself to feel emotions again, which has been a bit of a mistake, as the only portfolio of emotions enjoyed by a creature like me are classified as being amongst “the seven deadly sins.” I’m a particular fan of sloth and envy, but hatred – boy oh boy. Hate gets a bad rap, as does shame. If more people felt shame, I’d have less places to hide when I see a group of teenagers coming at me, since they’d litter less.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

After the adolescent horde passed me by, a humble narrator shook off the detritus and candy bar wrappers he was immersed in and continued on his way. My next stop involved yet another inspection of the fence hole situation at Sunnyside Yards. There actually were a couple of new ones, but the shot above depicting a Long Island Railroad train roaring through the Harold Interlocking was gathered at a fence hole which I’ve come to refer to as “the Old Reliable.”

One looks forward to the end of March, which is rumored to leave in the manner of a climatological lamb in accordance with some old chestnut of a saying, and end of March will be the moment when my immunological armor has been affixed. Getting out of the box I’ve been in for the last year is tantalizing for me. Saying that…

There might be teenagers about. Delinquents! Ruffians! No impulse control!

Note: I’m writing this and several of the posts you’re going to see for the next week at the beginning of the week of Monday, March 8th. My plan is to continue doing my solo photo walks around LIC and the Newtown Creek in the dead of night as long as that’s feasible. If you continue to see regular updates here, that means everything is kosher as far as health and well being. If the blog stops updating, it means that things have gone badly for a humble narrator.

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Buy a book!

“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.