Please Keep the Volume Down

“But I fell asleep,” John balefully wailed, a grown man sounding like a fourth grader. I was the third neighbor who had complained to him that his loud television had kept us up all night. It never occurred to him that perhaps the TV was too loud in the first place, and that falling asleep did not relieve him of any responsibility for broadcasting from his TV to the neighborhood in the first place.  How unfeeling we were to complain!

On most days, my downstairs neighbor played his music so loudly that my floors and walls vibrated. Small objects on the shelves actually moved. I complained to him. I complained to the super. I complained to the landlord. Nothing changed his behavior. I went to the super again. Joe had worked with this man at the same elevator repair company and so knew him personally. He would talk to him for me.

Maybe a dozen days later, as I opened my living room windows to let in a pleasant summer day, the bright sun, and the fresh smells of cut grass and leafy green trees, I felt a summer breeze waft against my face. It felt almost idyllic. The experience was abruptly spoiled-- by a spontaneous image of my neighbor with his ugly unrelenting music. And then a series of images formed in my head: a panel truck, on a narrow and windy, wet and wind-swept road, speeds around the sharp turns in the middle of a dark rainstorm. It slips off the road, careening straight into an immense, time-worn tree. Time stops and then, there in the shadows, is Death, just to the left of the driver side door.  Such an ugly thought on such a beautiful day. I shook off imaginings and returned to tidy my apartment.

As the next days followed, I went about enjoying my life, enjoying the quiet of summer. After two or three weeks, I realized that my neighbor had not disturbed me. I didn’t know what my super, Joe had said to John, but it had worked.   I went around the corner to the apartment office to thank Joe for his help. “Oh,” he told me, “I never got to talk to him.” Joe explained. “John was in an awful accident. Remember that rainstorm a few weeks ago?   He was driving his elevator repair truck on the Interboro Parkway . . . you know, that windy road that runs through the cemeteries. He skidded off the road smack into a big tree. Almost died. Be in rehab for months. He won’t be coming back to the apartment.”

I was relieved and guiltily joyful, that John and his loud disturbances weren’t coming back. Simultaneously, I shivered that anyone —even dislikable John-- was so mangled and in pain that he would need rehab for months. Then I stood stock still. Had I caused the crash? Had I envisioned the accident beforehand? Had my vindictive thoughts morphed into destructive reality?  My heart constricted, as I pulled away in fear from my own power. A few deep breaths and I calmed myself. It was a moment of precognition, I told myself, not an act of vengeful psychic capability. I mostly believe this.

My new downstairs neighbor is quiet.  I am thankful. Still, in the recesses of my mind, lingers a fear of distant pulses of psychic power.  If I’m afraid of such power, I think others should heed the possibility. Please, please, do not annoy me. 

Marsha

6.14.22

Thoughtful Neighbors

 

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Racket,

 Good morning. Isn’t it a beautiful day? It is truly impressive that a physical structure like your apartment for instance, could transform itself into such a wide array of uses over a relatively short period of time. It is true that a building such as Madison Square Garden is capable of hosting the rodeo at noon and be a basketball court by evening, but for an average apartment to make such a metamorphosis is truly remarkable requiring great elasticity, adaptability and free thinking on the part of the management. To think that your family was capable of hosting the Olympic Weightlifting Trials with the tumultuous commotion of athletes lifting and dropping enormous weights on your poor floor at all hours of the night and day and shaking the very walls down to the foundation was stimulating to say the least. The end of that endeavor brought a sense of peace and tranquility for a while. The apartment’s transformation into a recording studio for long haired miscreants toting electric guitars and drum sets was similarly disruptive as the walls reverberated with an endless hum while I walked around the apartment with cotton stuffed down deep into my ears as an arduous acoustical assemblage of dissonant anomalies assaulted my auditory senses hoping that I would not be electrocuted turning on my light switch. I am somewhat glad to know that the structure, having survived this last transformation was finally turned into a bowling alley. Although it is not as quiet as I might appreciate, at least the crashing of heavy balls rolling across your wooden floor – unhampered by carpeting – and into the wall is predictable and can be braced for with a reasonable degree of certainty, as to the time of impact. The Gorilla Gluing of all my Hummels to their shelves did not take long and I am sure that the absence of my invitation to the ribbon cutting ceremony for the grand opening of the bowling alley must have been an oversight, presumably lost in the mail, which can happen on occasion. In endless appreciation of our tranquil coexistence.

YOUR DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBOR

Jim

Play Every Day

 
          Every day I engage in some creative play. Painting, sewing and writing are my favorite activities to occupy my mind and time.  
          For most of my life, daily, I would feel incomplete and edgy and unsatisfied with how I spent my day without some creative outlet. My inner Muse would let me know she was not pleased with ignoring our craft. She is always right.  
          After many years of my inner Muse and my inner artist having conversations, we found a way to work well together. I know I cannot waste a day without at least a few moments of creativity and my Muse is happy with this.  
          Being creative is the same as playing like an innocent child. Being creative is being close to my inner core and soul and intuition. The byproduct is confidence and groundedness and peace by way of creatively generating ideas, possibilities, problem solving, communication and entertainment.  
          How very precious is that from a little bit of playing every day. Play away, every single day.  

Georgia

The Cycle

 

I pedaled along through the park enjoying the fresh, crisp air nodding to pedestrians as I passed. Suddenly I heard the ungainly slapping of feet behind me as if someone were trying to overtake me on foot. The noise grew louder as I went along, until I looked in my mirror to see my tracker and was shocked at the apparition that pursued me. It had the frame of a man with long gangly bony hands and the face of a skeleton! He wore a long black robe with a enveloping black hood. The robe extended down to his feet and flowed behind him as he tried in vain to overtake me. He possessed a long black wooden stick with some sort of a gleaming, razor sharp, curved blade on the end. With all the news of rampant crime and all the unpunished crimes in the papers, I pedaled faster to lose him. The faster I pedaled, the faster he ran, when I realized that he was The Grim Reaper and he had come to harvest me! With this new revelation I headed straight for the main clock in the center of town and skidding to a stop at the towers feet I vaulted up the tower stairs and climbed out to the face of the clock to stop it in its tracks. Gripping the huge hands with all my might I tried to stop the clocks mechanism and reverse its direction. I had no success and the sharp edges of its appendages cut into my skin and I began to bleed. By now he had arrived and was standing watching me with his arms folded ,shaking his head and tapping his toe impatiently.

“Don’t you know that you cannot reverse time? It is like a river; it flows in one direction. You might as well try to push the rising sun back down below the horizon or stop the seedling from growing into a great oak tree,” Grim said.

I continued to ignore his words even though I knew that they rang true and continued to struggle with the clock’s hands.

“Go away, I am not ready for you!” I yelled.

“Okay, okay; do your exercises, diet, and live on vegetables if you like, I can wait! As it turns out, I have a better prospect over at Prospect Park right now anyway.”

He decided to run a half marathon after sitting on the couch for six months! They are working on him now but I don’t think that he will make it,” laughed The Grim Reaper. I don’t need this aggravation. I’ll be back in good time!” With that he walked away to go find the nearest subway station. I climbed down from the clock tower with a new perspective, to appreciate every moment of life. I rode back to the park his words spinning around in my head and cycled round and round the park meditating on the cycle of life.

 

Jim

June 2022

Noisy Neighbors and Ghosts

 

Oh boy this is a loaded subject. I have lived in this old building for 25 years. This building was built in 1933 and there has not been much upgrade especially in the insulation area.  

Over the years many neighbors have come and gone or died. The walls here are extremely thin. Some neighbors play loud music, some are intimately active frequently, some speak loudly, and some have barking dogs, but the most recent one is truly sad. 

My downstairs 70-year-old neighbor had his stepmother move in with him after his father died. She has been in this building for at least 10 years at this point. This lady was always strange and aggressive. She is about five feet two inches tall with piercing blue eyes and a nasty mouth.  

It did not take long before she showed signs of dementia. Little by little as her brain kept shrinking in her head and her behavior became more bizarre and unpredictable. She would sneak out of the house and walk the streets and get lost. She would knock on everyone’s door in the middle of the night. My 70-year-old neighbor has had his hands full. 

Over the past three years this poor woman became so incapacitated that she screams constantly all day and all night. She can’t walk or talk or get dressed.  She lost weight and has no control of her bowels; she physically attacks the caretakers and does not know where she is.  

Thankfully I can’t hear her too much because I live on the floor above them. If I leave my door open to get some cross ventilation, I can hear her clearly. The sound of her screaming is truly gruesome and reminiscent of being tortured.  

I don’t agree with the step son’s decision to keep this lady in his apartment. She is clearly suffering. She does have aides that come to take care of her for a few hours every day and Social Services knows of her condition yet don’t put her in a nursing home. 

I am reminded that we really don’t know what is going on behind closed doors. Hearing suffering and conversations and violence and laughing and whispers are haunting the hallways. Not only with the current humans, also with those who are ghosts from the past.  

I can remember when I first moved into this building I would wake up in the middle of the night and I would hear Ms. Grant who died in my apartment walking up and down the stairs.  

I am pretty sure this poor lady with dementia will be the next soul who walks the hallway, still screaming and flailing and lost in limbo. Perhaps looking for her husband or step son.

Georgia

My Nice Noisy Neighbors

 

Noisy neighbors sounds like a negative; note the alliteration. In most cases one is describing an unappreciated scene. My positive nice noisy neighbors are the birds assembled or passing through my backyard. Who are these loud chirpers and tweeters gathering in song, usually in the very early morning or around my dinnertime? I never could identify the different birds, sometimes a solo aria; sometimes like a question and answer choral.

Sitting with friends around my patio table, we were blessed with a concert. Anne, my English friend began identifying the bird sounds. “Anne, you’re so good at that,”  I remarked. She admitted it had taken her a long time, using an app called MERLIN on her cell phone. She introduced us to the names of the birds providing all the background music to our early dinner. “ Well, I’ve heard of Merlin, the magician. What is the app MERLIN? “Anne filled in the details, “ The app is free from Cornell University Ornithology Department. It gives the listener a fast and accurate identification of the birds who are vocalizing around you. By just holding the cell phone towards the sound, MERLIN listens with you and uses Artificial Intelligence to identify the species. A visual pattern of each bird’s song is shown on a spectrogram.”  So, with the app now on my cell phone, I have learned the tweeters and chirpers in my backyard have included: sparrows, cardinals, blue jays, robins wrens, finch, mockingbirds and peewees.  Bless my noisy neighbors!!!

Ethyl Haber

Letter to My Best Friend

 

Dear Friend, 

I don’t know what I would do without you. You have my heart and blood. Thank you for being there during all seasons of my life. Thank you for loving me for who I am and all the ugly crying I have done. Thank you for not judging me and making me laugh. Like an eternal circle our friendship will never end. I know we will last this lifetime and maybe more. I love you.  

Georgia
June 2022

A Dark and Stormy Night

 

IT WAS A DARK And STORMY NIGHT…

     When I realized that I hadn’t gotten the car washed as promised, before she went off with all the ladies on the block to their annual knitting convention! She would be home early the next morning and the car wash was already closed! There was not a minute to lose and I grabbed my swimming trunks so as to get my shower in, and kill two birds with one stone (as the cliché goes), a bucket of water, and the dishwashing liquid from the kitchen, avoiding dirty dish mountain, which would also need to be dealt with, and a clean sponge and dashed out the front door, splashing soapy water all over the car and scrubbing it down like a man possessed, as stormy skies rumbled while thunder and lightning flashed across the night sky in the distance. After a few minutes the living room light went on next door and Fred came running out in his boxer shorts also carrying similar implements to rectify his slovenly behavior and procrastination! One by one lights flickered on all the way down the street like a Christmas tree with an electrical short as panic struck! Soon there were middle aged men with their paunches and skinny, hairy, white legs and thinning hair with bald spots and coke bottle glasses running around in their underwear or swimming trunks washing cars in a bizarre haphazard fashion all the way down the long block. Sometimes they concentrated on their own car and sometimes two or three consorted together to attend to a particular vehicle that was particularly filthy. Friendships were formed that night and acquaintances evolved into friends as this was an extreme emergency and the domestic tranquility of the community hung in the balance. As I stopped momentarily, it looked like a scene from a movie as if everyone had gone insane with a mass of tangled garden hoses like a den of snakes spitting and sputtering their venom, slithering and crisscrossing each other while middle aged men ran around haphazardly carrying buckets of soapy water and tripping over themselves through this outdoor aquatic insane asylum. I had started a movement! Now the rains came teeming down dousing men and cars and washing everything clean and pristine. Possies of men ran from house to house washing each other’s mounds of dishes, vacuuming rugs and generally setting things right for the tastes of the fairer sex.

When the rain finally stopped and the first light of dawn came, all of the cars looked beautiful and pristine not to mention that a considerable improvement had been made to the personal hygiene of the male population as well! It looked as if through some miscommunication the Auto Show had come to town and finding the Jacob Javits Center occupied, they settled instead on this residential road. With all of the money the men saved by washing the cars themselves, a poker game was planned and a poker tournament scheduled for the next weekend, to which the delighted ladies had no objection, having been astonished to find their homes looking like the centerfolds from Homes and Gardens. I did quite well in the tournament until the last round, losing to Tom, a CPA. As it turned out procrastination could have a silver lining not unlike the oft mentioned cloud.

 

Jim

June 2022

RAINBOW

 

Legend has it that there is a pot of gold at the bottom of a rainbow. Perhaps there is or maybe not. I have not personally met any Leprechauns who rule gold and rainbows. All I know is the beauty of every rainbow has colors that show its beauty through the rain along with bright sunshine.  

Rainbows are happy, symbol of hope, new beginnings and peace. In some ancient mythology the rainbow was personified at a bridge between humans and gods. In Greek mythology Iris served as a rainbow Goddess as a messenger between humanity and gods. In Aboriginal stories the rainbow bridge was for animals, humans and eternal beings and has been around since the world’s creation.  

There are lots of animal’s named after rainbows. Rainbow fish, rainbow flies, rainbow trout, rainbow slugs, rainbow reef, rainbow chameleon, rainbow harpy eagle, rainbow scarab, rainbow lorikeet, rainbow sea stars.  

Every rainbow I see I make a wish that is grand, colorful and magnificent and wide open and hopeful.  

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.

Georgia

The Bloody Red Moon

 

On May 13^th, Friday the 13^th to be specific, a dark and ominous day we boarded our ship the Celebrity Summit crossing our fingers and climbing the gangplank to our new temporary home, reminding ourselves that we were 21^st century passengers, our heads not filled with superstition and nonsense but rather facts and knowledge, in charge of our fate, not shanghaied, but willingly boarding the ship on this adventure to Bermuda. As the ship slipped out of its dock in Bayonne. NJ, the sky was thick with clouds but we punctured this thick fog disappearing from sight. Our view was completely blinded as we sailed out of the harbor sliding under the Verrazano Bridge.

Cruising along at a steady 22 nautical mph our strong, white, sleek, steel stallion sliced through the Atlantic Ocean on its way to our destination of Bermuda. The smoky gray skies of the morning gave way to a blue-gray pattern as the sun burned a hole through the mist. Silvery Flying Fish leapt through the air gliding over the water until gravity pulled them down again ending their fun, diving back into the deep bluish purple water speckled with white caps as the peaks and troughs glittered reflecting the sun. Waves crashed noisily against the hull of the ship as it cleaved through the ocean spraying mist  towards the stern of the ship. A waterspout spun wildly in the distance innocuously traveling across the water unlike its malicious cousin the tornado. Occasionally flashes of lightning lit up the horizon like the energy of one thousand nuclear power plants, followed later by the sound of rumbling thunder catching up with the lightning. The storms eventually passed as the sun came out and we cruised along through endless Lapis Lazuli seas. No ships or whales could be seen except for the occasional flying fish jumping out of the water to escape the largest predator it had ever seen in its brief life. The blue of the ocean melted into the sky on the horizon as white puffs of clouds sleepily drifted along. After a day and a half at sea the beautiful coast of Bermuda came into view.

The day passed uneventfully and as nightfall came to Bermuda the skies had clouded over again blocking the night sky and making a viewing of the Bloody Red Full Moon Eclipse unlikely. A great crowd had assembled on the upper deck to attend The Lunar Eclipse Party only to be disappointed by the continual overcast skies. Neither planets nor bright magnitude stars were able to pierce the thick clouds. Even the star of the show the moon herself could not be seen in the thick fog. People were beginning to filter away when far in the distance across the rolling fields of ocean a slight wave formed then began to advance towards the ship. Over a few minutes the breeze became stronger as the rolling wave of water crept along growing incrementally taller and more voluminous in size. It had now become massive, headed for the starboard side of the ship. Seagulls swirled above the ship taking notice of the wave. Now the sea-green wall of water towered over the ship like the KATSUSHIKA HOKUSAI woodcut THE GREAT WAVE OF KANAGAWA.

A thunderous noise accompanied this wave like a lava flow or a huge tree crashing on the deck. It hit the ship rocking the massive vessel like a cork bobbing in a bottle. The wave washed across the deck turning the freshwater pool brackish sliding steamer chairs across the deck and spraying the passengers with a saltwater shower as passengers screamed, but held onto their drinks. Now their attention turned to the animate beings that stood where the crest of the wave had fallen. Neptune in all his glory, Trident in hand, along with Salicia his consort and a school of beautiful mermaids, each very different at his feet. The mermaids headed to the numerous security personnel who had arrived weaving their spells and reducing the offices to entranced admirers dreaming of nautical naughtiness.

“Wow what an entrance! Forget Johnny Carson, Alexander the Great,Caesar or any of those other imposters,” said Neptune “Hey bartenders I think you are serving watered down drinks! New drinks for everyone,” announced Neptune laughing as he blamed the bartenders for his childish prank. The bartenders now busied themselves producing massive quantities of Sea Breezes (vodka, cranberry, grapefruit juice), Salty Dogs (Absolut pepper vodka, and grapefruit juice), Deep Sea Martinis (gin, vermouth, Pernod and orange bitters), Port and Starboards (grenadine and green creme de menthe), Little Dinghys (Captain Morgan spiced rum, Malibu coconut rum, cranberry, pineapple and orange juice), along with many other concoctions that I did not know the name of. Neptune sat down now moving off to the side with his entourage dripping wet sitting in a steamer chair near the ships railing and reclined with a cool drink and a platter of Hors d’oeuvre. Neptune wore a great robe of sea foam green with occasional barnacles and crabs encrusted on it that admitted a strong bouquet of fish combined with ocean spray. His sail pass said Neptune in large letters and on his head, he wore a crown made of various seashells interwoven with seaweed conforming his thick gray hair to the sides of his face revealing thick hoary eyebrows and a Roman nose descending to a thick gray beard that flowed down to his broad chest. His eyes were a deep blue, mesmerizing and crystal clear seeming to contain the secrets of the abyss within them. His consort was a beautiful woman dressed in a blue gown Salicia was the nameplate she wore on a silver chain with Raven black shiny locks that hung down braided at the ends with purple seaweed. Her eyes had a similar mystical quality and she smiled as I approached.

“These are wonderful festivities,” said Neptune.

“Yes, but it would be much improved if the skies had cleared and the moon made an appearance” I said.

“Oh I hadn’t noticed, I just came aboard after a little surfing”, The God of the Seas uttered.

“Let me see what I can do about this cloudy evening”, said the Sea God.

With that he pulled his long Trident from under his beach towel and thrusting it up to the heavens. The staff sent a bolt of lightning through the clouds striking Orion’s sword.

“That should wake him up!”, laughed Neptune.

A thunderous annoyed voice could be heard saying, “What can I do for you Neptune?”

“Good evening Orion, I am sorry to disturb your eternal hunt but could you do me a favor and ask your companion Serius to round up these clouds and herd them out of the way, I am attending a Lunar Eclipse Party and we need an unobstructed view?”

“Certainly my God it shall be done”, said Orion.

Sirius the Dog Star who always trailed behind Orion was summoned by the hunter and with his instructions he herded the clouds over the horizon.

Now the planets stars and full moon came out in all their glory, red, blue, green, yellow and white bright gleaming and dazzling for all to see, the brilliant heavenly jewels appeared as if they were displayed on a black velvet cloth. The people who had been exiting the deck now returned, and just in the nick of time as the eclipse of the moon was beginning. Neptune and Salicia applauded wildly ordering a Deep Sea Martini for Neptune and a Sea Breeze for Salacia. Next Neptune stomped his Trident on the deck and the band began to play, Fly me to the moon.

“You can’t beat that Frank Sinatra,” exclaimed Neptune.

Neptune held up his glass toasting Cronus,” Thank you Cronus for creating the Heavens and the Earth and to Orion and Serius for clearing the night sky!”.

Salacia kept one eye on the party and the other on the school of mermaids who were now swarming near Neptune sliding over the rail of the ship one by one increasing their numbers out of curiosity for the proceedings. All the partygoers applauded Neptune’s toast sipping their champagne and mixed drinks. As the sun’s infrared light streamed around the edges of the planet and this filtered light began to stain the brilliant white surface of the moon a bloody coppery reddish hue like a spilt glass of port wine staining the edge of a linen white napkin slowly invaded the fabric, creeping across the surface of the moon until the satellite was completely inundated with its bloody reddish hue oozing and dripping across the night sky, looking like a shiny copper penny hanging in space. It was quite beautiful and Neptune and Salicia along with the partygoers applauded wildly. I noticed at this point that both Neptune and Salicia seemed a bit uncomfortable, appearing to be drying out and after saying their goodbyes to the assembled crowd they disappeared in the blink of an eye along with their entourage and we could hear them as they dove into the water. This was a lunar eclipse that would not soon be forgotten

 

Jim

June 2022

 

The Rainbow

 

Matthew, my grandson, and Sophie planned a large wedding for November 2020, but due to the pandemic, all plans were cancelled. Wedding dress from Kleinfeld’s would rest quietly in the closet. The new plans were for October 17, 2021.  This long awaited event was a day to remember. 

The final page of their wedding photograph album displays a scene of Sophie and Matthews standing on the terrace of the catering hall looking out at a Brooklyn Skyline. They are standing in an affectionate  hand-in-hand posture. A gentle breeze appears to move her soft white gossamer ruffled dress. With an amazing stroke of luck, the photographer has captured this scene at the very moment an exquisite rainbow has arched the azure cloudless sky. How perfect!!  A beautiful scene; beautiful couple. The rainbow, symbol of fertility; symbol of hope; symbol of good luck. 

The pandemic had delayed  the wedding for a year. It took place during a small window of time before a new surge of cases would have caused an additional cancellation, so the rainbow was truly a symbol of good luck. I had written a whimsical poem for the occasion.

The Wedding

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

Have you been hearing?

Sophie’s and Matthew’s wedding is nearing.

Have all been waiting, hardly bearing.

All this year, we have been fearing

Would a wedding we all be sharing?

Stop your worry, stop your caring,

No more need to be so scaring.

This beautiful wedding indeed is nearing.

October 17, we’ll be appearing

Party clothes, we will be wearing.

So Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

It’s time for cheering! 

Wedding bells we will be hearing!!

Ethyl Haber