Archive for the ‘Broadway’ Category
delvings into
Adjusting to the frozen realities of our time.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As a housebound invalid, which is what these frigid temperatures reduce one such as myself to, it has been a bit of trial accepting the simple fact that the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself will never again shine down upon and warm the good land of Queens. One can really get a sense of why the events which would signal the oncoming Viking apocalypse (Ragnarok) were called the “Fimbulvetr” – which translates as “awful, great winter” – after the last couple of weeks. Eschatology notwithstanding, a humble narrator wishes that something – anything – would happen, even an oncoming storm of vengeful Valkyrie, just to break the monotony of the “Frozone.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At this stage, it seems that I’ve watched everything which Netflix offers. I can recommend “Lilyhammer” without reservation, and I’ve finally caught up on “Sherlock” and can understand what everyone has been going on about. I’m rereading David McCollugh’s “The Great Bridge” and endeavoring to finally slog through the final chapters of “Gotham” by Mike Wallace and Edwin G. Burrows. Also, planning for this years series of walking tours is underway.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ll be doing an event at Brooklyn Brainery in February, which will be discussed in a post later this week, and preparation for this will occupy a bit of my time, but like my little dog Zuzu – I’m bouncing off the four walls right now. I should have become a slave to Opium at some point in the past, so as to pass through intervals in the frozone in a cloud of nepenthe.
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sleepy inefficiency
Just cannot stomach the indolence, and not for one minute more…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Like Yogi and BooBoo, my busy time of the year seems to come between March and November. Accordingly, the month and change during which I have little reason to wake up at all that falls between Thanksgiving and the second week of January. During this a period a short break is enjoyed. A humble narrator watches a lot of TV, sits around, and entertains the dog. Not too much excitement comes along, and annually, this is when I get a bit itchy for fun.
from wikipedia
Seasonal affective disorder (SAD), also known as winter depression, winter blues, summer depression, summer blues, or seasonal depression, was considered a mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the winter or summer.
In the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders DSM-IV and DSM-5, its status was changed. It is no longer classified as a unique mood disorder but is now a specifier called With seasonal pattern for recurrent major depressive disorder that occurs at a specific time of the year and fully remits otherwise. Although experts were initially skeptical, this condition is now recognized as a common disorder, with its prevalence in the U.S. ranging from 1.4% in Florida to 9.7% in New Hampshire.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s a good time to design new business cards, work on the book, and back up the hard drive. I also work on updating portfolios of photos, and retouching work, showing off notable jobs accomplished during the prior year. Lately, that includes blog stuff as well. One of the recent jobs which I’m kind of proud of is the redhookwaterfront.com site, for which I provided photos and did some historical workups and also did general blog writing. Check it out.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I have a couple of short adventures planned for the next few days, out there in the cold wastes, and hopefully there’ll be some cool stuff encountered to tell y’all about. Never know what Queens wants to show you next, as out of all the Boroughs, she’s the most coy.
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cold and cramping
Lurid shimmerings of pale light, that’s what I’m about.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The hours one spends marching about Queens are severely impinged upon by weather during the winter months, a fact injurious to both health and morale. A humble narrator attempts to fill the empty hours productively, but there is little solace for one such as myself in hours spent in the office. Perhaps relocating to a warmer climate is in order? That would mean that New York City had finally beaten me, and that a life long grudge match had been lost.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The various medications which my staff of doctors prescribe to manage those ailments which bedevil and weaken my material form have a certain downside – inducing a particular fragility to my homeostasis when the temperature dips down. Simply said, cold weather such as that which the City is experiencing is actually painful. Vital ichors run away from the extremities, and one begins to experience the sense of being in a long dark tunnel which terminates in a distant but brightly lit aperture. I call that aperture “April.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The hard reality of this, I’m only a quadragenarian after all, has made me truly love to see the oil companies delivering the fuel that stokes all the furnaces and boilers. I propose a new secular holiday, one which celebrates the constancy and efforts of the oil truck man, without whom we’d all surely freeze to death. Brr.
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wisely advised
Another year gone and deeper in debt.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Repent! is something which one has always wanted to shout at strangers, whilst wearing a sandwich board that proclaims dire future times and the arrival of an era of tribulation. A declaration of steadfast faith is what that would be, and I don’t really believe in anything except Superman, so my argument for repentance would hardly be convincing unless it involved Braniac. These are all imaginary characters, of course, so my supposition is silly.
Looking out my Astoria apartment’s window on Christmas Eve, this imaginary character was observed moving casually down the avenue towards the subway. Perhaps steadfast faith in not believing in anything is as silly as believing in Father Christmas or Braniac, especially when one of them walks past your house?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The little break enjoyed over the last couple of weeks has been refreshing, if fattening.
Ribald Christmas gatherings and feasts have been attended, and all met have been basted with cheery sentiment and seasonally appropriate call and response exchanges (merry christmas, happy new year, kwazy kwaanza etc.). Fear that my disingenuous lack of holiday spirit was apparent to all manifests in me, but what can one such as myself say to such accusation, other than stating that I do not – in fact – care?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Not too much of interest passed before me, at least that was worth photographing.
This giant pile of blood appeared in my path just last week, across the street from Doughboy Park in Woodside. Could have been a bloody nose, I suppose. Stab, maybe? I’ll get the boys in forensics on it when they’re back next week.
Speaking of Doughboy Park, (I’m talking to you George the Atheist) weren’t they supposed to repaint that day glow green stuff which appeared here last year?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I have no information on the blood, other than it tasted like Type A and whoever spilled it really needs to cut down on the fried food. The flavor profile was quite salty/fatty, and it smelled like freedom fries, but the stuff had a nice mouth feel to it.
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uneasy voices
Quite the hullabaloo over in Astoria last Friday.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Rainy, last Friday evening, a sudden explosion of sirens and a characteristic strobing of red and white light announced that members of the Fire Department had arrived to pursue their occupation. I grew interested when Rescue 4 showed up, which I understand to be a sort of mobile command post and which I’ve only seen when the situation is truly serious.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There were two crewed trucks, a hook and ladder unit and an engine unit. In addition, the Rescue 4 truck and this “Haz Tac” unit arrived on scene along with a couple of ambulances. The setting is Broadway in Astoria, by the way, between 43rd and 44th streets.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There were enough FDNY personnel down there to start a soccer team, but they all seemed to be milling about, rather than the rushing around and “crash bang” action which normally describes the pursuit of their occupation.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
NYPD sent an ESU (Emergency Services Unit) truck as well as a highway patrol and several ordinary unit cars, and being the nosey sort, this motivated me to throw the filthy black raincoat on and find out what was going on.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The municipal employees were tight lipped, as usual, but my network of local Croatians had already created a cogent narrative. The whole thing revolved around this van.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As transmitted to me by the Istrian witnesses, there was an accident. A typical fender bender with no injuries, the driver of the van nevertheless fled the scene and abandoned the vehicle.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Some unknown municipal threshold must have been achieved, in terms of ascertaining the threat posed by the vehicle, and the FDNY began to pack up and leave. NYPD got busy with traffic cones and redirecting traffic. One wonders, however, what triggered this massive response to an abandoned van.
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