Death of a City

Me, in the data lake, searching for answers – Illo by PC Mag

Back online, after a few weeks of radio silence on this channel.

I have been busy with my tech project, and writing here. Behind the scenes, I have been rolling up my sleeves and get down and dirty at the command shell level with MySQL.  Without going into detail, I have an idea that I am pursuing, mainly because it interests me.

To that end, I have become a complete data animal — the way I once was when I worked downtown.

This is my world now

We’ll see how it works out.  I will be writing about that sort of thing in that other blog, so if you are interested, that’s the place to go. I’m also back on Twitter.

Speaking of writing, the Gouna trip (see numerous posts dating from September ’17 to April of this year) was not for naught in that regard.  I did end up writing a rather meditative piece just before I left Egypt. I submitted it to Mizna, where it is now being considered for the Winter issue.

In other news, I have decided not to move to Portugal, which currently is in flames. Maybe down the road, but not now.

Tomorrow, I leave for New York City, where I spent most of my life.  I’ll be staying at the Marrakesh at 10025 on Broadway, and putting up pics while there.

Manhattan — the authentic, pre Giuliani grifter version — is still so in my blood still, it isn’t even funny. Real bagels, at last, not to mention full sour pickles!

There are still vestigial remnants of what it once was, so the trip should be a gas, even though much of what I loved about the city is almost gone, replaced now by obscenities such as this.

On a more positive note, here’s an article written by Andre Aciman (of more recent Call Me By Your Name fame) over 20 years ago.  In it, this fellow Egyptian (yes, Alexandrine and Jewish, but still miya fil miya Egyptian!) describes in elegant detail Straus Park, which is right next to where I lived then, and also two short blocks away from where my wife and I will be staying this time around.

Tomorrow, after checking in, I’l be sitting at 7PM maybe at the Abbey Pub, where I once regularly drank to excess, but survived it, and have a burger while watching my beloved Jets. Nah, can’t stand the Columbia grad students who now come down to frequent it. I’m sure the Broadway Dive will be showing the game; only two blocks away from the hotel.

So, already what a trip, right from the get go!  Sam Darnold! We Jets fans want him on that wall.  We need him on that wall!  (If you’re a  long-suffering Jets fans, you will know exactly what I am referring to.  If not, don’t worry about it.)

And on Saturday, we will be going to Ludlow Street, down at the tip of Manhattan, to attend the Metrograph Film Festival.

This is the sort of thing that my mind craves, and what I have missed most about living for 17 years in the wretched old people hell hole known as Florida.

I’ll leave you with a wonderfully-written, long read about the Big Apple that came out in this month’s Harper’s.

It articulates exactly how I feel about the place, by someone who began living there in the mid 70s, just as I did.  Actually I moved there two years before him, so was exposed to even more of the grunge that was the LES and the Village, in the day in the days when NY was full of  New Yorkers.

Stayed tuned for pics…

Death of a City

leaving america