oops.

March 10th, 2010

the new furniture is absolutely stunning. we will have a lifetime to enjoy the hand-carved golden oak table, chairs and sideboard, and come thanksgiving (which we are hoping to host this year), we will have a table that seats 14 easily. amazing. thanks to you, dear reader and old friend, for changing our lives for the better. a million thanks to my friends in the boston and new york loading crews. i owe you all big time!

the only problem is that i have completely and utterly destroyed my back. i fell off of a balcony back in 2003 and hurt my back so badly that i had to quit the job i loved, teaching preschool (my present resume includes the fact that i toilet-trained ten children simultaneously). after the fall of man (me), i became all too familiar with a life of back pain.

and now my back is out again, for the first time in a decade, and each step is agonizing. i have ballroom lessons tonight which are pretty much completely out of the question. i really thought i was lifting properly and watching myself, but i guess i pushed a little too hard. i’m hoping that a day of rest (after radiation and a couple appointments of course) will loosen things up a little. but if it doesn’t stretch out quickly, i may need to call in some favors for a meal or two this week before we head to california on friday.

thank you again to all involved in getting this incredible dining set into our now even-more-beautiful brownstone!! i’ll get some pictures at some point to share with you.

puppet dance party

March 9th, 2010

i’ll be busy moving furniture tomorrow, so here’s a quick post before bed. i didn’t realize that the link to this video was changed not long after i posted it. so many of you may not have had the opportunity to see this remarkable, quirky little piece brought to you by my friends amber, sam, kirsten and chris (and featuring us newlyweds on the day of our wedding!). the puppets in this video are from a puppet show based on the children’s book city of hamburgers that my friends developed and continue to perform in the new york area. kirsten and amber help run an amazing organization called alphabet arts that you should totally hire to perform at your child’s next birthday party!

on with the show!

i’m on a boat.

March 8th, 2010

i am not on a boat. i am on a bus. i’m going to boston for the night and coming back with what sounds like a gorgeous dining room set. it’s sort of a wedding present (although we don’t want wedding presents… yet…). i haven’t seen it but it’s supposed to be beautiful, old oak, matching chairs etc. and i’ll get some time with my dad, and my cousin, and some old friends. which is always nice.

i have been up to so much that it’s hard to remember all of it. we had a massive jam session on friday with lyrics and chords projected on to the wall. with some amazingly talented musicians and friends from across the country present, we managed to banjo/harmonica/handclap/found object percussion our way through decades of classic sing-a-longs. as usual, we performed part of your world from the little mermaid. the song below (hey! they’re on a bus too!) was pretty awesome as well, thanks to my favorite personal trainer tickling some serious ivories.

spring is in full effect here (no more winter, please!) and we are taking full advantage. our friend works at a mindblowing art studio in red hook and we rode our bikes to visit him. they have been working on a stop motion movie of a barrier reef for many years and it was remarkable to see. it is made entirely of found objects. everything around the studio was just beautiful, creative, entrancing, magical. here is a bird made from strips of pizza boxes. it is animatronic.

pizza box bird

in red hook, looking out at the harbor in its glorious magnificence, the statue of liberty towering over the serene blue water, we took care of some unfinished business. you may have forgotten that a few weeks ago we hosted a ball-off, a potluck where everything had to be shaped like balls. the crowd favorite was a ball that was really more of a work of art. it was called SpHERE. it was a giant popcorn ball, two feet across and dyed groinstrong pink, which i always appreciate. even with a good crowd, we barely made a dent in the thing. so on saturday, standing on the edge of the water, we set the ball free.

popcorn ball

thus the SpHERE completed its artistic life cycle, as we returned the popcorn back to its natural oceanic habitat. and it will find new life in the bellies of the many birds, gulls and terns and others, that swarmed the marshmallow-covered gooey goodness. the SpHERE held its shape for a remarkably long time as it floated along the breakfront. i hope birds like marshmallows.

of course sunday started with brunch, as sundays should. as many of you know, the last section of old elevated subway track in manhattan has been converted into the high line park. it is absolutely stunning, a new way to look at the city, a new way to see the urban environment in all its glory and chaos. the park is full of interesting, experiential art, like the installation of stained glass that slowly shifts in tone and mood as the day passes and the sunlight and shadows crawl.

high line sunset

the art and the stroll with my loving and lovely wife was not all the day had in store for us. above the high line sits the standard hotel, which has become infamous for its exhibitionist clientele. the windows of the hotel look down on the park, and as kathryn and i walked in serious conversation, we glanced up and saw a couple at their window. they were draped in towels. they waved. we waved. suddenly OOPS! the man’s towel fell. it must have been an accident…

this coming saint patrick’s day marks four years since i moved to new york. the word on the street is that it takes five years to be a local.

but i have now seen a naked man at the window of the standard hotel.

i have finally arrived.

high line standard hotel exhibitionist

rest in peace

March 5th, 2010

i have no idea how this post didn’t get up – somehow it saved as a draft without being published. i’m sorry for those of you who were waiting for news on my grandfather – i wrote this last week the day after he passed away. kathryn and i will be in california for the memorial service next weekend.

my grandfather passed away last thursday evening. he was much beloved by many and will be sorely missed. but he put his passing into his own hands, entering hospice last month when he knew it was time. we should all be so lucky, to greet death with respect and understanding, to be able to say goodbye on our own terms. and he will live on, in the values he taught all of us, in his infectious wonder and enthusiasm for life.

a couple years back my cousin matt asked my grandparents to write statements of belief, brief stories of their lives and their values to be shared and cherished. it is a gift to have that statement now as we mourn his passing.

THIS I BELIEVE – CLYDE ELLER
I had a very happy and carefree childhood, growing up in a small town, surrounded by family and friends. However, the Great Depression affected us greatly, from 1930-1938. Our area suffered from severe drought during much of this time which greatly exacerbated the impact. I suspect some of the trauma lingers in my attitude toward life.

My values were shaped early – as a product of my family and community. We were constantly reminded by little sayings, i.e., aphorisms that reinforced the values and morals we were taught to live by. My father impressed on us the absolute obligation of our responsibility to family and the community that has stayed with me throughout my life. And this led to a long series of volunteer responsibilities, from leader for Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts, to membership in church boards and civic organizations such as Jr. Chamber of Commerce, Rotary and Kiwanis. My Life’s work in Environmental and Public Health, at the City, County, State, and Federal levels also carried out my desire to improve the quality of life for individuals and communities. I was proud to receive the National Samuel Crumbine award and the Public Health Services Distinguished Service Medal in recognition of this effort.

The church I have belonged to for the past 50 years or so has always stressed the process of searching for meaning, from any and all sources of wisdom and thought. It is only in my more mature years, after much searching and thought that I have become comfortable with my humanistic view. I believe this life, this time, is our only chance to impact our thoughts and values and that our immortality exists only through this impact on our family, friends, and community.

In looking back over my very long life, I have many things to be happy for, especially my long relationship with my wife, Linda, and the pleasure of seeing our children become adult friends, and especially the joy of interacting with our eight grandchildren as their lives unfold. I feel fortunate to have had such a long life and so many wonderful friends in our retirement years.

Clyde Blaine Eller Jr. lived to be 89 years old. He raised four children, and he got to become friends with all of his eight grandchildren. He loved life, travel, the outdoors, and all its wondrous beauty. He was an intellectual, and a compassionate humanist. He was dedicated to his church, the Unitarian Universalists, as its ideals of community and tolerance appealed to his values of civic duty as well as acceptance of all people to work for a better world. But most of all, in all his life, he loved his wife Linda, with whom he was married for 66 years.

folk opera

March 5th, 2010

you guys the folk opera is amazing. i know a lot of you have seen it already – this was my third viewing but first with full instrumentation, last minute violin and bass players who filled their roles with remarkable ease. this video below is not of the best quality but maybe you can just play it in the background as nice music. because it is definitely nice music!

also, just so y’all know, i’ve been posting again on adventures in brooklyn. this morning i delved into the disturbing world of domesticated hippopotami.

crisp?

March 4th, 2010

“crisp.”

the oval of skin on my shoulder gets redder and redder each day. yesterday the radiologist said that by the end of treatment it would be “crisp.” that is not an adjective that i especially like to hear used to describe my skin. but again, i remind myself that this treatment may be the last for quite some time, so i suppose it’s worth putting up with it. i search my body regularly for odd moles (you remember the ABCDE of mole monitoring, right?) and lumps in the lymph system. it is not a search i relish. too many times i have experienced the terrible, frightening feeling that comes with discovering an anomaly. i have found most of my tumors well before they light up on a scan, and the finding comes with a sadness and frustration that i simply cannot properly express. it’s all just part of the roller coaster life of living with advanced cancer.

speaking of roller coasters: ballroom dancing is hard! foxtrot is easier; i must have learned it at some point at a wedding or some such. but the swing steps are a little tricky. i’m going to need some practice.

friends: don’t forget to come to jalopy theater tonight for anne bacon’s folk opera! it’s awesome.

here’s a preview of what’s in store tonight. there will not be a miniature steam train involved in the performance. as far as i know.

strictly ballroom

March 3rd, 2010

today is christmas day! hooray!

well not really of course. but it is the first day of a christmas present that i gave to my lovely wife (!!). i registered us for a month of social dance classes at the 92nd street y.

obviously she will dance circles around me. but she will have her own challenge: letting me lead after years of playing the six foot tall lead partner in her own classes. i think it will be something like this video below, except replace fran with me. but keep scott… just to have him around.

yes i will take my glasses off. it’s evidently an important part of the transformation from meek and shy to sexy and talented. i will no longer live my life in fear. by the end of our classes it will probably be something like this.

show business

March 1st, 2010

to my dear friends in the new york area: my old friend annie bacon is in town! we love anne and it is always nice to have her smiling face around. this thursday at 10 pm, she (and many of our friends) are performing an original folk opera at jalopy. it is an excellent place to see music, and is just a short walk from my house. i will be pressing through the growing fatigue of radiation treatment to attend, and thus you have no excuse for missing this one. if you would like to meet at sackett street and walk over with us, that would be just fine.

if you visit annie’s myspace, you can listen to the song “window moons,” which she generously wrote about visiting me and kathryn when we are old and gray. it is a very sweet and tender song. i was singing it in my head when we were married. “we’re looking forward to looking back.” lovely.

new york in warmer days

February 25th, 2010

it is wet and gross out there. i am glad to be home from treatment.

sometimes it’s nice to have a reminder that winter doesn’t last forever.

this video is freaking amazing and beautiful and warm like spring.

be sure to watch in full screen HD. after you watch it, you’ll want to see how it’s done.

incredible.

The Sandpit from Sam O’Hare on Vimeo.

snow!

February 25th, 2010

i am sitting in my cozy room, watching the large, heavy wet flakes of the nor’easter fall on the still, abandoned construction project across the way. this is a morning where i am glad i am not working, and the fact that i have a ten minute long appointment an hour away is not especially appealing. the physical drain of radiation is starting to catch up with me – at 9 pm i am ready for bed, which means i miss things like your awesome show at mercury lounge. (sorry elijah!) but more than the physical drain, it is the routine of being at the cancer center every day. i’m used to being surrounded by cancer patients all the time, and although the alopecia and weary, worried faces have taken some getting used to, nearly everyone there is ready with a smile. we’re all in this together, after all. the problem is that 34th street is not especially close to my house, and since they never built an uptown transfer between the F and 6 trains, it takes a while to get to my treatments – here’s an explanation from the times, saying a fix is coming soon. oh wait, it’s dated 2005.

speaking of the times, i left a comment on the PLX4032 articles (see below) and over 700 people clicked on groinstrong yesterday! i guess i should leave more comments with links to the site!