Monday, January 31, 2011
TALES OF BROOKLINE: A Day at the Museum and L'Italia: Part II
On the pavement leading to the tracks at North Station, someone had dropped a bright yellow daffodil. She mrched forward, then stopped to pick it up. Construction to enlarge the tracks was in progress. She hoped they would not change North Station too much. She liked it just the way it was, an "old time" station, reminscent of the fifties with its high-backed long wooden benches, red and white signs posted overhead and TV screen announcing the train schedule to Lowell and North Billerica.
Now she would go through Downtown Crossing. Maybe those flower jeans would be on sale at Jordan Marsh. She spied a cart smelling of hot dogs and mustard.
"Orange soda?" she said. And then, "Nice day, isn't it? Especially for this job."
The young man smiled and agreed. He was probably just her age. She sipped the sweet refreshing stuff.
Other carts were selling the American flag and flags of other countries on the brick and cobblestoned walkways of Downtown Crossing. She sat among some old men on the benches by the Fountain and finished her soda.
She liked the reggae music they were playing today as she fingered the boldly imprinted jeans in Jordan Marsh. Green, orange, lavendar, daisies and poppies and tulips adonred them at eight dollars less than the week before! What did she have that would match them? She could not think. But they were her! Dare to be different, she thought. Someone with guts would have to wear these. And, of course, the guys at work would love them,as they caught a glimpse below her red apron smock that she hated to wear while cashiering at the grocery store.
Now, she walked back through Boston Common, over the bridge of the Boston Public Garden. The Green Line E emerged above ground at Northeastern University. At the museum stop, she stepped off the trolley. She found herself among a throng of students waiting for the free admission at four o'clock. They were handed little yellow badges, just like at the Met in New York. The indoor "sidewalk cafe" just outside the glass walls of the museum gift shop was reminscent of New York, its glass tables bedecked with fresh tulips. Even though the Museum was free until six o'clock, she browsed through the gift store for a while.
Past the eighteenth century, she wandered, the bucolic scenes of Winslow Homer evocative of a more peaceful era. Farms and hills and boys playing or fishing. She experienced eighteenth century America through his paintings.
Suddenly, a throng of women and men carrying folding chairs scrambled through the once quiet wing.
Oh, yakkety yak, she thought. Pretending they appreciate art. Maybe some of them really did. She enjoyed her private appreciation of these pastoral scenes which transported her to another place in time; the silent statues frozen in motion; the forgotten gods and goddesses who roamed the pages of Greek and Roman mythology as she now wandered through the ruins of ancient Egypt.
(handwritten note) The young Dionysius, my Greek namesake, lifted grapes to his mouth, as he sat astride a stone panther.
(My note: "Dionysius," the Greek god of wine. See French, "Denise." Look it up in the dictionary!!!...* * * :)
UP NEXT: SICK LEAVE...until next time,
Denise
P.S. We are expecting SNOW on Tuesday and on Wednesday, possibly changing to freezing rain. Be careful, everyone! Stay safe! Don't go out if you don't have to. Beware of black ice on Thursday morning.)
Now she would go through Downtown Crossing. Maybe those flower jeans would be on sale at Jordan Marsh. She spied a cart smelling of hot dogs and mustard.
"Orange soda?" she said. And then, "Nice day, isn't it? Especially for this job."
The young man smiled and agreed. He was probably just her age. She sipped the sweet refreshing stuff.
Other carts were selling the American flag and flags of other countries on the brick and cobblestoned walkways of Downtown Crossing. She sat among some old men on the benches by the Fountain and finished her soda.
She liked the reggae music they were playing today as she fingered the boldly imprinted jeans in Jordan Marsh. Green, orange, lavendar, daisies and poppies and tulips adonred them at eight dollars less than the week before! What did she have that would match them? She could not think. But they were her! Dare to be different, she thought. Someone with guts would have to wear these. And, of course, the guys at work would love them,as they caught a glimpse below her red apron smock that she hated to wear while cashiering at the grocery store.
Now, she walked back through Boston Common, over the bridge of the Boston Public Garden. The Green Line E emerged above ground at Northeastern University. At the museum stop, she stepped off the trolley. She found herself among a throng of students waiting for the free admission at four o'clock. They were handed little yellow badges, just like at the Met in New York. The indoor "sidewalk cafe" just outside the glass walls of the museum gift shop was reminscent of New York, its glass tables bedecked with fresh tulips. Even though the Museum was free until six o'clock, she browsed through the gift store for a while.
Past the eighteenth century, she wandered, the bucolic scenes of Winslow Homer evocative of a more peaceful era. Farms and hills and boys playing or fishing. She experienced eighteenth century America through his paintings.
Suddenly, a throng of women and men carrying folding chairs scrambled through the once quiet wing.
Oh, yakkety yak, she thought. Pretending they appreciate art. Maybe some of them really did. She enjoyed her private appreciation of these pastoral scenes which transported her to another place in time; the silent statues frozen in motion; the forgotten gods and goddesses who roamed the pages of Greek and Roman mythology as she now wandered through the ruins of ancient Egypt.
(handwritten note) The young Dionysius, my Greek namesake, lifted grapes to his mouth, as he sat astride a stone panther.
(My note: "Dionysius," the Greek god of wine. See French, "Denise." Look it up in the dictionary!!!...* * * :)
UP NEXT: SICK LEAVE...until next time,
Denise
P.S. We are expecting SNOW on Tuesday and on Wednesday, possibly changing to freezing rain. Be careful, everyone! Stay safe! Don't go out if you don't have to. Beware of black ice on Thursday morning.)
Friday, January 28, 2011
TALES OF BROOKLINE: A Day at the Museum and l'Italia
Finally! Hey, all of you avid readers out there! I don't want to lose ya. You've been great! 3/13/3-14 Yesterday, I went to Boston. Armed with a newspaper and a sandwich, I drank a second cup of coffee at Pugsley's before boarding the green line D in Brookline Village.
At the Arlington T stoip, I stepped off the train and up the steps of the underground station to Boston Public Garden. I wondered where the Swan Boat was for the winter as I crossed the bridge over the dried up remains of the pond. I walked along the pathways beside the college students and the lunch hour crowd. Assorted pigeons and squirrels assembled amidst a lone seagull on the Boston Common. I made my way up the hill to the Soldiers and Sailors Monument. I decied to pass right by the Downtown Crossing shopping area and headed for the water.
Traffic rumbled overhead as I crossed the cobblestoned highway to Waterfront Park. I passed the New England Aquarium on my way to Long Wharf. I walked along the road by the Charter House Restaurant and the ferry waiting for its season to sail tourists around the waters of Boston Harbor.
To my relief, hardly anyone walked the stone piers of Long Wharf today. I sat down and ate my sandwich. Several months ago, inOctober, I would have been tensed to hurry back to the real world. But my relaxed position was proof that those days were long forgotten. Too cold for seagulls today. I studied the knotted ropes of ships' moorings. The cold air that gusted over the boats rocking in Boston Harbor calmed me.
Now it was time to go to North Station. But first, I would walk a little ways north, past Waterfront Park.
I gazed into the windows of a restaurant called "The Aquarium." Business crowd. I traversed further into the North End, imagining what it would be like with my sister, Kelley or a bunch of friends, strolling and joking through the streets of Boston.
"Umberto's," I read. Just like in New York! Boston's Little Italy had an Umberto's Restaurant all its own. Ristorante di Theresa, I read. For lack of a better name, they had thrown on Theresa's name to the Italian gibberish. A car drove slowly by. A young man called out to someone on the street. Small lanes led through the rows of shops down to the waterfront. A "Peace Garden" was set up on the lawns of a Catholic church across the street. All around her, neighbors seemed to know each other, cars drove slowly by, men paused in the streets. She glimpsed more waterfront up ahead, but there were hardly any people in the streets now and she turned back to Boston. She passed by the Peace Garden, its various stone lambs and lions and saints basking under the trees and permanent Christmas lights.
TO BE CONTINUED. See ya all hear next week, perhaps Monday or Tuesday.
Have a good weekend and stay safe. Hope to see you at the HYGIENIC XXXII "Salon des Independants" Winter Arts Festival on Saturday night, January 28th. Starting at 8pm. (But I may go earlier.)
Until tomorrow,
Denise
At the Arlington T stoip, I stepped off the train and up the steps of the underground station to Boston Public Garden. I wondered where the Swan Boat was for the winter as I crossed the bridge over the dried up remains of the pond. I walked along the pathways beside the college students and the lunch hour crowd. Assorted pigeons and squirrels assembled amidst a lone seagull on the Boston Common. I made my way up the hill to the Soldiers and Sailors Monument. I decied to pass right by the Downtown Crossing shopping area and headed for the water.
Traffic rumbled overhead as I crossed the cobblestoned highway to Waterfront Park. I passed the New England Aquarium on my way to Long Wharf. I walked along the road by the Charter House Restaurant and the ferry waiting for its season to sail tourists around the waters of Boston Harbor.
To my relief, hardly anyone walked the stone piers of Long Wharf today. I sat down and ate my sandwich. Several months ago, inOctober, I would have been tensed to hurry back to the real world. But my relaxed position was proof that those days were long forgotten. Too cold for seagulls today. I studied the knotted ropes of ships' moorings. The cold air that gusted over the boats rocking in Boston Harbor calmed me.
Now it was time to go to North Station. But first, I would walk a little ways north, past Waterfront Park.
I gazed into the windows of a restaurant called "The Aquarium." Business crowd. I traversed further into the North End, imagining what it would be like with my sister, Kelley or a bunch of friends, strolling and joking through the streets of Boston.
"Umberto's," I read. Just like in New York! Boston's Little Italy had an Umberto's Restaurant all its own. Ristorante di Theresa, I read. For lack of a better name, they had thrown on Theresa's name to the Italian gibberish. A car drove slowly by. A young man called out to someone on the street. Small lanes led through the rows of shops down to the waterfront. A "Peace Garden" was set up on the lawns of a Catholic church across the street. All around her, neighbors seemed to know each other, cars drove slowly by, men paused in the streets. She glimpsed more waterfront up ahead, but there were hardly any people in the streets now and she turned back to Boston. She passed by the Peace Garden, its various stone lambs and lions and saints basking under the trees and permanent Christmas lights.
TO BE CONTINUED. See ya all hear next week, perhaps Monday or Tuesday.
Have a good weekend and stay safe. Hope to see you at the HYGIENIC XXXII "Salon des Independants" Winter Arts Festival on Saturday night, January 28th. Starting at 8pm. (But I may go earlier.)
Until tomorrow,
Denise
"What Else Did I Do There?"
While living and working in Brookline, MA (Fall 1990-Fall 1991), the end of the 80s Decade -- I made friends with my coworkers ("associates") at Stop & Shop. I worked every Friday and Saturday night, 6pm to midnight. I ate and drank with my buddies, Pam and Rachel at Arbuckles Pub. Everyone I knew had two or three jobs! No one could believe I was 29 years old. Pam ("Miss Woman" or "Madam") would boisterously refer to S&S-Brookline as "the ball and chain" and to our manager as "Balls Bacon!" After the bar, we would sit in Pam's car outside of her apartment, up the street from mine, on Aspinwall Avenue. And just talk. Although I didn't like the metro Boston area at all, I made some great friends there who dug me! I often took the "T" (trolley system) into Boston, to North Station and The Haymarket for fresh vegetables. I ate the same thing for dinner all week. There was a coffee shop. My apartment was beautiful but located on a busy street, just at the bend where you could hear the traffic rushing past at all hours. On my day off during the week, I took the "T" to the Museum of Fine Arts where I saw and heard the recorded exhibit, "The Pleasures of Paris," all about the golden age. In my neighborhood, there was a new age bookstore and gift shop as well.
There was a park with a duck pond (the Jewel? or the Strand?) designed by Frederick Law Olmstead. Where I would go to read a book and have a picnic lunch when the weather was warm.
My roommate (aka Nicole) from NYC came to visit me with her boyfriend, "H" who was attending college in Boston at the time.
When I finally made the decision to leave Brookline and the friends I'd made there, it was a painful one.
My friend Pam is now on Facebook. Do ya think I will ever have a face to face again?
There was a park with a duck pond (the Jewel? or the Strand?) designed by Frederick Law Olmstead. Where I would go to read a book and have a picnic lunch when the weather was warm.
My roommate (aka Nicole) from NYC came to visit me with her boyfriend, "H" who was attending college in Boston at the time.
When I finally made the decision to leave Brookline and the friends I'd made there, it was a painful one.
My friend Pam is now on Facebook. Do ya think I will ever have a face to face again?
Up Next: What Did I Do There?
A summary of my year in Brookline, MA, a suburb just outside of Boston, MA in the early 90s decade.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
22 hits!
22 hits and counting! Yet another snow day! This location -- today -- sure beats my former one at The Residence. Here I am, live at the New London Library! No more Home Alone II! I want to thank you all for reading today and to please come back tomorrow. I plan to be at the Groton Library. I would like to present to you TALES OF BROOKLINE: I. "A Day at the Museum and l'Italia." And to please remember, everyone, what your limits are. Snow! Freezing rain! Black ice! Alcohol. These items do not mix. And if you are me, Pasta! (This trio would be deadly for me!) Do what you can. Check out what's happening in your own back yard. And if possible, come and see me Saturday, night! On the evening of January 29th at 8pm, and all throughout this weekend, the HYGIENIC XXXII Annual Winter Arts Festival is happening! With an art show, rock music, live theater, etc., etc, etc. -- there is bound to be something (free or low cost) for EVERYONE in downtown New London this weekend! Brave the cold! Come and see me at the Hygienic on Saturday, January 29th, starting at 8pm. You won't be bored, I promise! (P.S. Will there be food???)
Friday, January 21, 2011
After That
After the journey back in time to Boston, I will have for you: THE SINGLE MOM OF CACTUS COUNTY. Enjoy the saguaro photos!
Up Next: Tales of Brookline
Before we traverse the desert of AZ in 1993, I want to take you back to the land of "that dirty water!" I have "on que;" 4 tales from my year in Brookline, MA in 1990-91. Well....what else am I going to do with all of my stuff? Let it collect dust? Or let it live on in posterity -- in Cyberspace -- and enjoy what fame I can attract? Even being a local celeb can be a bit draining. But fun. Hope to see all of you here next week, probably Tuesday or Wednesday. CU soon!
Denise
"Love that dirty water!" That land...down by the River Charles is what my best buddy Paula called home for fifteen years in the 1960s, when I was a child in Montville, CT. But...New York...will always be...the place where I feel at home...away from home (except for Groton).
Denise
"Love that dirty water!" That land...down by the River Charles is what my best buddy Paula called home for fifteen years in the 1960s, when I was a child in Montville, CT. But...New York...will always be...the place where I feel at home...away from home (except for Groton).
Spring / Fall 1993
Prior post you just "saw-guaro" {the cactus, silly!} was Spring in the desert; contrasted with Fall in New England. The greater Mesa-Phoenix-Scottsdale area of Arizona; and Salem Country Gardens in Connecticut with my mother.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
INTRO: The Single Mom of Cactus County
In October 1990, I walked out on my job in NYC for good. But I didn't move back home. I moved to Brookline, MA; into an apartment with two roommates I'd met through a newspaper ad. For a year, I struggled on a cashier's part time wages at Stop & Shop. I could barely pay the rent and I could barely afford my groceries. I had to eat the same thing for dinner all week. I took a second job on two occasions, one as a bank teller (BSB) and for the summer, as a secretary in a computer store, Microtech Systems. For some reason, I have never been able to handle working two jobs before becoming physically sick and giving vent to -- yes -- temper tantrums. (I would like to pause here and say: "Before you check out the splinter in someone else's eye -- WHY DON'T YOU REMOVE THE PLANK IN YOUR OWN?) In other words....Why don't you step outside that lens, my friend? And capsize, with all the lies, that YOU'VE been living in???... * * * :) My mind and body have never been able to handle two jobs, although I have often tried -- without success -- to do just that.
After struggling for a year in Brookline, and although I had made many friends at S&S who did not want to see me go -- I left Brookline. And then, I moved back home to Montville, CT; with my parents in October 1991. My parents eventually convinced me that I would be able to collect unemployment as Stop & Shop in Waterford had reduced my wages during the transfer. I suffered extreme burn-out, physically and emotionally, from living and working in two cities, 1987-1991. I was unemployed for almost a whole year (1991-92). I did take adult ed classes at Montville High, my alma mater, in Basic Auto Repair (my father's idea) and Oil Painting (following my mother's latent passion) in 1992.
Foxwoods Casino, which began as a bingo hall on an Indian reservation in July 1986, opened as a full resort destination casino in Ledyard, CT in 1992.
In the Spring of 1992, I also became a Reporter for "The Resident" newspaper in Pawcatuck, CT. (Check out some old issues for my byline!)
It was in the Fall of 1992 that, after sending out countless resumes and cover letters to any and all businesses in the area, and some, out of the area -- that I registered with Kelly Temporaries of New London. My first assignment was as a Bank Teller in my hometown (F&M) for almost a year. When my temp assignment ended in Spring 1993, I took a trip to Mesa, Arizona to visit my roommate I had in Queens who had also moved "back home" to write for a local newspaper. THE SINGLE MOM OF CACTUS COUNTY is my tale of this next adventure. UP NEXT, right here, on "Fool's Gold," a "novella."
After struggling for a year in Brookline, and although I had made many friends at S&S who did not want to see me go -- I left Brookline. And then, I moved back home to Montville, CT; with my parents in October 1991. My parents eventually convinced me that I would be able to collect unemployment as Stop & Shop in Waterford had reduced my wages during the transfer. I suffered extreme burn-out, physically and emotionally, from living and working in two cities, 1987-1991. I was unemployed for almost a whole year (1991-92). I did take adult ed classes at Montville High, my alma mater, in Basic Auto Repair (my father's idea) and Oil Painting (following my mother's latent passion) in 1992.
Foxwoods Casino, which began as a bingo hall on an Indian reservation in July 1986, opened as a full resort destination casino in Ledyard, CT in 1992.
In the Spring of 1992, I also became a Reporter for "The Resident" newspaper in Pawcatuck, CT. (Check out some old issues for my byline!)
It was in the Fall of 1992 that, after sending out countless resumes and cover letters to any and all businesses in the area, and some, out of the area -- that I registered with Kelly Temporaries of New London. My first assignment was as a Bank Teller in my hometown (F&M) for almost a year. When my temp assignment ended in Spring 1993, I took a trip to Mesa, Arizona to visit my roommate I had in Queens who had also moved "back home" to write for a local newspaper. THE SINGLE MOM OF CACTUS COUNTY is my tale of this next adventure. UP NEXT, right here, on "Fool's Gold," a "novella."
Up Next: Intro to "The Single Mom of Cactus County"
After NYC, then what? Did Debbie reeeally just give up on the Big City and move back home to Southeastern Connecticut? Or is there yet another chapter -- or two -- in the mix?
Friday, January 14, 2011
THE VIEW
...from the 42nd Floor. From my desk, I could look past the Office Manager's desk (who faced me) outside of the tall windows onto the Times Square billboard and the busy streetscape down below. To my right was the Hudson River. I saw the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center every day.
In the lobby was a card & gift shop, as well as Fritzl's Coffee Shop (which went out of business before I moved away!) Below, on the concourse level, was the Beanstalk Cafe. A large silver sculpture which represents a sundial still graces the plaza today. The white marble concourse leads to other shops and restaurants at the subway level and the F train subway platform which took me to Forest Hills and midtown Manhattan during the workweek. It also leads to Rockefeller Skating Rink, just a few blocks away from the office. The McGraw-Hill Bookstore was also at concourse level.
On one side of the building was a circular tunnel with a waterfall along both sides. There was a Labels for Less clothing store on 49th and the Dish of Salt Restaurant was on 48th Street. Across Sixth Avenue was the Simon & Schuster Bookstore. Just up the street is Radio City Music Hall. The Time-Life Building is on Sixth Avenue, where the Exxon Oil Co. had an office and a band once played protest songs outside about the Exxon-Valdez oil spill! (1989)
Valdez, ALASKA: Home of the Trans Alaska Oil Pipeline, 800 miles from Prudhoe Bay. (Follow me there! Follow me there!) THE MORE THINGS CHANGE, THE MORE THEY REMAIN THE SAME.
(Sarah Palin's Alaska, TLC TV, 8-9pm, January 9th Episode: a trip to Valdez, where her husband used to work. The series is available on DVD from TLC TV website.)
In the lobby was a card & gift shop, as well as Fritzl's Coffee Shop (which went out of business before I moved away!) Below, on the concourse level, was the Beanstalk Cafe. A large silver sculpture which represents a sundial still graces the plaza today. The white marble concourse leads to other shops and restaurants at the subway level and the F train subway platform which took me to Forest Hills and midtown Manhattan during the workweek. It also leads to Rockefeller Skating Rink, just a few blocks away from the office. The McGraw-Hill Bookstore was also at concourse level.
On one side of the building was a circular tunnel with a waterfall along both sides. There was a Labels for Less clothing store on 49th and the Dish of Salt Restaurant was on 48th Street. Across Sixth Avenue was the Simon & Schuster Bookstore. Just up the street is Radio City Music Hall. The Time-Life Building is on Sixth Avenue, where the Exxon Oil Co. had an office and a band once played protest songs outside about the Exxon-Valdez oil spill! (1989)
Valdez, ALASKA: Home of the Trans Alaska Oil Pipeline, 800 miles from Prudhoe Bay. (Follow me there! Follow me there!) THE MORE THINGS CHANGE, THE MORE THEY REMAIN THE SAME.
(Sarah Palin's Alaska, TLC TV, 8-9pm, January 9th Episode: a trip to Valdez, where her husband used to work. The series is available on DVD from TLC TV website.)
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Also Up Next
THE VIEW...Coming soon...this afternoon...LIVE from the Groton Library! (How can a place - the Town of Groton - feel so much like home to me?)
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Up Next
UP NEXT: Poems from Corporate Life in NYC
"New York Revisited" (Ya always go back!)
"The Single Mom of Cactus County" (a novellette about a trip I took to Phoenix, Arizona in the early 90s)
Until next time,
Take care and thanx for reading!
Denise
"New York Revisited" (Ya always go back!)
"The Single Mom of Cactus County" (a novellette about a trip I took to Phoenix, Arizona in the early 90s)
Until next time,
Take care and thanx for reading!
Denise
"Tough Sell"
CIS
McGraw-Hill Financial Services Co.
1221 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY
DTS
Director of Marketing
North and South
Denise,
I would like to congratulate you on your outstanding effort in the 1989 Blood Drive. I realize that the task was not easy. How do you make getting stuck with a needle sound inviting? That's what I call a tough sell. Some how or other, you were able to make it inviting enough to attract eight people.
Congratulations on a fine job!!
cc: BC
AC
BC
(P.S. Did ya get the memo???...* * * :) {sic}
McGraw-Hill Financial Services Co.
1221 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY
DTS
Director of Marketing
North and South
Denise,
I would like to congratulate you on your outstanding effort in the 1989 Blood Drive. I realize that the task was not easy. How do you make getting stuck with a needle sound inviting? That's what I call a tough sell. Some how or other, you were able to make it inviting enough to attract eight people.
Congratulations on a fine job!!
cc: BC
AC
BC
(P.S. Did ya get the memo???...* * * :) {sic}
"How Much Does It Pay?"
(32 hits on New Year's Eve-Eve! Thanx, everyone!) HOW MUCH DOES IT PAY? In June 1987, my starting salary was $16,000 per year with a full benefits package. By the time I left McGraw-Hill in October 1990, I was earning about $22,000 per year. The only time I have ever been able to top this salary was as a High School English Teacher at Harvard H. Ellis Regional Vocational Technical School in Danielson, CT; where I earned about $33,000 per year with full benefits, in a one-year temporary position in Fall 1999. The insurance package was Anthem Blue Cross / Blue Shield. I received excellent healthcare and medical treatment at Medical Center of NE CT in Fall 1999 and at Backus Hospital in Spring 2000 as a result of being a recipient of this healthcare benefits package. This is how I know that the public healthcare system sucks! However, I am very happy with the healthcare I have been receiving since Fall 2006. ("Talk about seven years bad luck!" '99-06)
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