Archive for the ‘Things I Love That I Go to Inappropriate Lengths to Track Down’ Category

Rob Lowe’s Exploits

September 19, 2016

Husband and I caught a few minutes of Rob Lowe’s roast on Comedy Central recently (I have never been more uncomfortable than I was seeing Anne Coulter’s zombie-face reactions to various jokes about her) and I recalled a few years ago, when I worked for a very famous actor named [redacted], who regaled me and the fellow assistants with various stories about Rob Lowe’s insane romantic past.  At the time, I Googled him, and found on his Wikipedia page a harrowing story about his relationship with Little House on the Prairie star Melissa Gilbert, and we (the other assistants and [redacted]) all gasped at it.  Then, post-roast, during which they made endless fun of Lowe’s Lothario (to put it gently) past, I went to look at the Wikipedia again, and the anecdote wasn’t there!  It wasn’t that it was so fascinating, but just that it clearly had been edited out by someone’s PR lackey that annoyed me.  Anyway, I tracked it down on Reddit, so you’re welcome:

“Lowe, a little-known actor at the time, and Little House on the Prairie actress Melissa Gilbert briefly met at age 14 in 1978 in the halls of CBS Television Studios.  In 1981, when both were 17, Gilbert spotted Lowe stopped at the red light next to her car and the two began dating.  During the filming of The Hotel New Hampshire (1984), Lowe began an affair with Nastassja Kinski.  According to Gilbert, she caught Lowe in Kinski’s hotel room and then slept with Lowe’s then-best friend, John Cusack, out of revenge.  Lowe broke up with Gilbert in 1986 when he began dating Princess Stephanie of Monaco, but when the relationship with the Princess ended, Gilbert and Lowe reunited. The two quickly got engaged and were to be married in the summer of 1987.  But when Gilbert informed Lowe she was pregnant, he broke up with her for good.  Gilbert claims she miscarried several days later.”

This isn’t the half of his sordid back story, this one still on Wikipedia: In 1988, Lowe was involved in a sex scandal over a videotape of him having sex with a 16-year-old girl he met in a nightclub. They were videotaped the night before the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta, Georgia. As the age of consent is 16 in Georgia, both were of legal age to engage in sexual activity, although not to be recorded. At the time, Lowe was campaigning for Michael Dukakis.

Someone get this guy a Lifetime biopic!

Shoe Poms

August 24, 2016

A big tragedy as of late was that these shoe pom-poms were sold out.  I swear, sometimes I feel like I live in a war zone, given all I go through…

Screen Shot 2015-11-15 at 7.51.50 PM

I don’t have the best kicks to go with these, though, so…

That Time I Traded Theater Tickets on Craigslist and Came Out Nearly Two Grand Ahead

August 22, 2016

This weekend, we had friends over for dinner, and we were talking about funny experiences on Craigslist, and I was reminded of the time five years ago when my friend KC and I traded two tickets to a play at BAM for a week on the North Fork of Long Island.  Below, the long winded account of our victory.  (Never did get featured in the Times, though, I’m reminded!)

The Ad

 

2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

Date: 2009-12-02, 4:03PM EST

Reply to: sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Two twenty-something Columbia grads have two extra tickets to see Cate Blanchett (directed by Bergman muse Liv Ullman) as Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire at Brooklyn Academy of Music on Friday, December 11th at 7:30 PM. Will accept exchange for personalized gifts, written works, tickets to other performances including but not limited to: ballet, opera, theater, private art viewings, movies, promises of grand gestures, beautifully crafted love letters, a delicious meal at a restaurant, etc. Be creative!

The Sweet Underdogs

From:  Tom Wilzer <twilzer@gmail.com>

To:      sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:   Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 4:54 PM

Subject:           I want these tickets badly.

 

Dinner for two at the spotted pig, or somewhere else, if you’re vegetarian/vegan.

40% discount at Odin (men’s boutique) and Pas de Deux (women’s boutique).

 

My undying love and affection.

 

In person recitation of Queen Mab speech.

 

All can be yours if the tickets can be mine.

 

Thank you,

Grant Wheeler

 

From:              Elizabeth Knox <septimus7sylph@gmail.com>

To:                  ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

Date:               Thu, Dec 3, 2009 at 12:20 AM

Subject:           Re: A Streetcar Named Desire

           

Wow! Okay and thank you for the quick response. I thought I would also let you know that my best friend who I went to Interlochen with (who is a very gifted poet) somehow meant an artist who was a friend of Frida Kahlos when she was down in Mexico, and teamed up with her to write poems about her work. You said your friend loved Salvador Dali, and these paintings with poems inspired by the artwork are one of kind. I also make fun, charm bracelets on ribbon. But the most popular bracelets I make, and the ones all my friends have are cuss bracelets. I get lots of fun colors and beads like turtles, whales, teddy bears, you know like kid stuff, and then you pick out your favorite cuss word in bright letters. They’re the best! Just thought I’d let you know what else I have to offer…hope to hear from you soon!

 

A Lovely Story

 

From:              Andrea Pasternak <APasternak@giantlawfirm.com>

To:                  sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 5:04 PM

Subject:           2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

You are very creative! Are you women or men? My boss is going to Streetcar tomorrow night because his daughter is organizing the gala at BAM. I am a legal secretary and could never dream of Streetcar, it is beyond my dreams.

I have never seen a live play before, though I read plays from the library and love literature. You must be brilliant to be Columbia grads. I admire your moxie.

I hope you find your hearts’ desire. I would love to know who you awarded them to, and what they bestowed upon you.

 

Andrea Pasternak

 

From:              ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

To:                  Andrea Pasternak <APasternak@giantlawfirm.com>

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 8:33 PM

Subject:           Re: 2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

Hi Andrea,

That’s sweet of you, thanks! We’re female grads. The Gala sounds incredible too! Not that you included details but hey, Streetcar, Cate Blanchett, BAM, gala… what’s not to love?

I’ll be sure to tell you who wins the prize. We’ve had some cool responses thus far.

Get yourself to a live play STAT!

Sincerely,

ID

 

From:              Andrea Pasternak <APasternak@giantlawfirm.com>

To:                  Itinerant Daughter <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 9:07 PM

Subject:           RE: 2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

Hi ID,

 

Thank you for your kind note. I am very lucky – I’m going to Streetcar! My boss, who is trustee of a philanthropic fund, asked the Development Director at BAM if she had a ticket left for me, and she did! I am absolutely thrilled. It’s so amazing.

 

All the best,

Sincerely,

Andrea

 

from    ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

to         Andrea Pasternak <APasternak@giantlawfirm.com>

date     Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 9:09 PM

subject Re: 2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

Have a great time!

 

 

A Sketchy Reply

 

From:              Claudette Davide <yoclaudette@hotmail.com>

To:                  sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 6:55 PM

Subject:           Tickets?

 

Our offer depend, partially, on:

 

are you men looking for women?

men looking for men?

women looking for men?

or

women looking for women?

 

Looking forward for a great exchange…

 

Claudette

 

From:              ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

To:                  Claudette Davide <yoclaudette@hotmail.com>

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 7:54 PM

Subject:           Re: Tickets?

 

Ha… we are women, but we’re not looking for anything sexual, so the recipients’ genders are irrelevant to us…

 

Though we do prefer pretty people to ugly ones.

 

The Strangest Responses

 

From:              Hillary Norris <hn87@ivyleagueuniversity.edu>

To:                  sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:               Thu, Dec 3, 2009 at 4:22 PM

Subject:           2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

Hi there,

 

I suspect you’ve been flooded with all sorts of colourful offers for those highly prized tix – but if not, consider the helpful services of an Australian veterinary pathologist (in training)! Do you have any dead pets you’d like an opinion on? Or live ones…? I’m looking for a reason to head to the city in a couple of weeks (and escape rainy Ithaca). I missed the Sydney Theatre Company’s Sydney shows of STND as I was on my way over here and would love a chance to see Cate Blanchett on stage. Let me know! And enjoy the show!

 

Cheers,

 

Hillary

 

From:              S. B. Summers <samanthabsummers@gmail.com>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Sun, Dec 6, 2009 at 2:55 PM

Subject:           Streetcar Named Desire

 

 

Hi,

 

I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to have the two Streetcar Named Desire tickets you have for next Friday. Not to toot my own horn, but I happen to be an incredible baker and make a (vegan) ginger, macadamia, coconut carrot cake to die for! I’m also a public defender in the Bronx Family Court and would be happy to represent you in a child neglect or abuse case. 😉 The gentleman who would be accompanying me is a scientist and could meet any of your chemistry needs (not an offer to make illicit substances, btw). That’s all I’ve got. If you have any specific requests, let me know!!

 

Best,

Samantha

 

A Really Annoying Response

 

From:              Allen Parks <atparks@gmail.com>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Sat, Dec 5, 2009 at 12:03 PM

Subject:           Streetcar tixs?

 

I’m not very creative unless you consider this as an opportunity to make a young woman/my incredible girlfriend a very happy person for Christmas. 🙂

 

If that does anything for you, please let me know.

 

Allen

 

A Funny Response

 

From:              acyoung <acyoung@gmail.com>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Sat, Dec 5, 2009 at 12:49 PM

Subject:           street car tickets

 

I am willing to clean your house completely naked for these tickets.

 

The Curveball

 

From:              Sasha Attenberg <sashaattenberg@yahoo.com>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Sat, Dec 5, 2009 at 8:42 PM

Subject:           Streetcar offer…

 

Hello, I saw your offer on Craigslist…so how about this: I published a book on Tennessee Williams’ later plays some years ago called The Politics of Reputation, and have also edited and introduced a new volume of his later plays for New Directions Publishing titled The Traveling Companion, previously unpublished work from the 1960s, `70s, and `80s that came out last year…I can get you a copy of each, signed. I have been trying to get tickets to this production, and Tennessee’s last assistant and companion, John Uecker, has been trying as well…with no luck. We both think it’s important for us to see the play, and do want to go desperately.

Please let me know what you think…

Thanks,

Sasha

 

Five Runners-Up

 

  1. From: alyssa lampisi <alyssa_la@yahoo.com>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Sun, Dec 6, 2009 at 9:02 PM

Subject:           Streetcar named desire tix

 

We are two employees at the United Nations on short work assignment in NY and would love to see this play! We are stationed in countries that do not offer much in the way of cultural events, especially with award winning actors! This would make our NY visit the top of the pops! In exchange we can offer you two tour tickets to the United Nations building and we will take you to lunch in the private staff only delegates dining room as our guest where you can eat with UN dignitaries, possibly even the Secretary General will be there too.

 

Kindly let us know if our offer interests you!

 

Best,

Alyssa

 

  1. From: Nevalle Horace <nhorace@gmail.com>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Fri, Dec 4, 2009 at 7:13 PM

Subject:           Streetcar

           

Here’s my creative offer: I write crosswords for the NY Times (you can

google me to see my work). I will create for you and your seatmate a

personalized crossword puzzle all about you. Great for proposals,

anniversaries, etc. And I’ll put the word “Stella” in it too.

 

(I’m also a lawyer, so if some free legal services are more your speed…)

 

Enjoy!

Nevalle

 

  1. From: Chung, Stephanie <lily.tang@enormousbank.com>

To:                  “sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org”

Date:               Fri, Dec 4, 2009 at 1:50 PM

Subject:           Tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

How about a day of sailing any day you choose? Our 30 ft sailboat is docked in City Island (1 hr drive from the city).

 

Includes champagne and lunch on board (again your choice of food).

 

  1. From: Alanna Glass <agyorfi@amnh.org>

To:                  sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 5:14 PM

Subject:           2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

Hello,

 

I work at the American Museum of Natural History. I can get you unlimited free tickets to every show at the museum (planetarium movies, IMAX movies, special exhibitions, and behind the scenes tours of the exhibition department) for one full year!   My friend and I working here would love love love the tickets, and I really hope you like this museum so that this deal is enticing. Please let me know soon!!!!

 

Thank you very much!

 

Adrianna

 

  1. From: Delora Wieting <delora.wieting@comcast.net>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Fri, Dec 4, 2009 at 6:23 PM

Subject:           Tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

Yes!!!! I love that you are looking for a creative trade. We are creatively willing to trade you a photograph of a dog named Stella AND a week (without us) in our house in Burlington Vermont on Lake Champlain… Or if you don’t care for travel, you could have two pounds of Small World coffee shipped to you every month for a year. We have a 3 bedroom place on Lake Champlain that you could enjoy almost any week of the year (except the week between Christmas and New Years). It’s a joyful place to be any time… But if you prefer to get jacked up on the best coffee in America (that’s right, we roast it!) we will happily share our beans for a year in exchange for theater tickets for a night. And, ofcourse, a photo of our four-legged Stella. What do you say? Say yes, and make new friends.

 

The Winner:

 

From:              SAVANNAH THOMPSON <estateantiques@optonline.net>

To:                  sale-wtmuu-1494817476@craigslist.org

Date:               Fri, Dec 4, 2009 at 4:41 PM

Subject:           Tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

We would love to offer you a week at our waterfront cottage at Breezy Shores in Greenport, NY. It’s an adorable two bedroom looking across the water at Shelter Island. Fridge will be stocked with North Fork wine and cheese. (Obviously to be redeemed when the weather is warmer and you can really enjoy it!)

 

Backtrack

 

From:              Suborov, Pam <pam.suborov@megapublisher.com>

To:                  sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:               Thu, Dec 3, 2009 at 3:27 PM

Subject:           2 tickets to Streetcar Named Desire (BAM)

 

How about brand new books from my publishing company? Would make great Christmas gifts. Think of the money you’d save!

 

You can call me at 646xxxx or at work at 212xxxxx

 

Pam

 

The Rejection

 

From:              ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

To:                  Pam Suborov, and others

Date:               Sun, Dec 6, 2009 at 5:47 PM

Subject:           Streetcar Tickets

 

Hi everyone,

 

Thank you so much for responding to our exchange offer so thoughtfully and creatively! Unfortunately we’ve had to narrow down the contenders and thus are writing to tell you that you were not chosen. I highly recommend doing something like this if you find yourself with spare tickets; it will renew your faith in the communal artistic spirit! And forward it along to me, if you do, so I can return the favor with an epic poem!

 

Sincerely,

ID

 

The Challenge

 

From:              Pam Suborov <pam.suborov@megapublisher.com>

To:                  Itinerant Daughter <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

Date:               Mon, Dec 7, 2009 at 9:33 AM

subject:            Re: Streetcar Tickets

                       

Thanks and what a kind note! Just curious… what offers did you get?

All the best for a happy holiday season,

 

Pam

 

From:              ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

To:                  “Suborov, Pam” <pam.suborov@harpercollins.com>

Date:               Mon, Dec 7, 2009 at 11:58 AM

Subject:           Re: Streetcar Tickets

           

Hey Pam,

 

Thank you! This has really been so much fun. Funnily enough, I work for a writer (am an aspiring one, myself) whose last two books were published by your company, so I have a hook up there already :). Right now we’re deciding between a year free at the Museum of Natural History (including all planetarium and IMAX shows!), a week at a house on the North Fork of Long Island, a week at a house on Lake Champlain in Burlington, Vermont, and a personal tour of the UN with lunch in the staff dining room. Also, Tennessee Williams’ final assistant and “companion” responded and wants to come, along with a scholar friend of his who wrote a book about Williams. This presents a bit of a literary moral dilemma, don’t you think?

 

Happy holidays to you!

 

Sincerely,

ID

 

From:              Suborov, Pam <gail.dubov@harpercollins.com>

To:                  ID <itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com>

Date:               Mon, Dec 7, 2009 at 12:03 PM

Subject:           Re: Streetcar Tickets

 

I just love it! I am going to tell someone I know at the Times about this—I think it’s an article in the making.

 

Who do you work for that is published by HC? No moral dilemma really. Maybe you can get an autographed copy of something by Tennessee Williams…I’d take the North Fork (if it’s not in winter and after you see photos of the house) or the Museum of Natural History for a year. All IMAX and Planetarium shows? That’s worth a lot.

 

Books from HC seems like a wimpy proposal compared to what you’ve been offered! But if you’d like any books anyway for Christmas presents, let me know. Just because you sound like a good human being!

 

A Genius Idea

 

From:              Edith Thompson <edith.thompson@mac.com>

To:                  Kelsey Osgood <kelsey.osgood@gmail.com>

Date:               Tue, Dec 8, 2009 at 3:50 PM

Subject:           Re: re

           

Your angle could be something about wanting free swag, tone down the artistic/altruistic endeavor & ramp up your curiosity in seeing what people might offer

 

Tally/Profit

 

Total cost for four tickets to Streetcar:                                                          $160

 

Total cost for one week in July at a sample 2-bedroom, 1 bath house in Greenport, Long Island, property 186858 listed on www.homeaway.com:                                           $1950

 

Total cost for four bottles of 2007 Merlot from Bedell Cellars Winery in Cutchogue, New York:                                                                                                                          $25

 

Total cost for a “Picnic Special,” which includes 2 cheese selections, box of crackers, plastic utensils, plates, napkins, and a chunk of goat milk fudge from Catapano Dairy Farm in Peconic, New York:                                                                                                $20

 

Total cost:                                                                                                                   $1995

 

Profit =                                                                                                                       $1835

 

 

The One For Which We Would Be in the Most Debt

 

From:              Jasna Gorcik Miroslav <Jasna_miroslav@yahoo.com>

To:                  sale-2sxxb-1491949221@craigslist.org

Date:               Wed, Dec 2, 2009 at 10:51 PM

Subject:           tickets fro Streetcar named desire

           

Hi!

I just saw your ad, it is exceptional! I missed the play in DC and I would love to see it. Please let me know if tickets are still available. I can offer to pay for them, or can be your guide in Belgrade, Serbia, one of the cities everybody falls in love with, and/or in Herceg Novi in Montenegro, the city on the coast of the Adriatic see.

 

Best regards,

Zlata

 

Total cost for Streetcar tickets:                                                                                  $160

 

Total cost (including tax) for round airfare to Belgrade, Serbia in May via Cheaptickets.com:                                                                                                         $1,153

 

 

 

Profit =                                                                                                                       $-993

           

The Product

This

 

 

 

 

 

 

Find Me!

July 31, 2016

Last week, my husband and I went to visit Mont Saint Michel, an iconic island monastery in the muddy shores off Normandy.  For those of you who don’t know what it looks like––which I can’t imagine is many people––here’s a picture.

the-mont-saint-michel-jeremie-eloy-wanaiifilms-com

It was the kind of visit that reminds you of why it’s so stupid to call places “too touristy,” which someone did about MSM later that day.  There’s a reason so many people want to see a spot like this one.

Anyway, afterward I was doing a little Googling on the Fraternity of Jerusalem, the religious order that now lives there (the Benedictines were the original tenants, and were invited back in the nineties after exile post-French Revolution, but decided it was a little too bustling for them.)  I came upon the following from an article in the Telegraph.  Guess which part caught my eye:

“After many ups and downs – post-Revolution, the Mont was a jail – a religious presence returned to the rock in the Sixties. It is now maintained by monks and nuns from the Fraternity of Jerusalem. “There are two realities here, spiritual and tourist,” Sister Nathanaël told me. She had travelled widely as a commodities trader before taking holy orders. The realities meet up when Sister Nathanaël walks from her quarters up to the abbey church. She may be stopped two dozen times in 200yd by people with questions (“Is this place religious, then?”) or wishing to have photos taken with her. “The smile is vital,” she said. “And we usually manage it, but not absolutely always.” There are rewards. A visiting Japanese woman had recently been called to Christianity by St Michael. A medium on a retreat had renounced his spirit-contacting activity as displeasing to God.”

I must find this Japanese woman!  If you get this, reach out to me!  I’ll come to Japan to talk to you…

Other things I want: a pink ombre sweater and a French straw hat.  Ugh, I’m such a WORLDLY creature!

 

Theresa Duncan, Again

May 19, 2016

I’ve written about Theresa Duncan before, in a mini-obit that strikes me now as pretty adolescent (although I’ve resisted editing it.)  And today, while writing something real (aka something not to be published here), I remembered an old essay of Duncan’s, perhaps the only piece of her writing I’ve ever really enjoyed or understood, the latter more a comment on her penchant for vagueness masquerading as intellectualism rather than my own powers of comprehension.  In fact, I was writing my own essay about the Hotel Chelsea at the time, and about the inability of my own generation to create or connect to anything meaningful (it was a tough time in my life, I guess), but because of this essay I just stopped in my tracks, declaring myself scooped.  It’s not quite as impressive as I remember it being last time I read it, but there are some bits that I still really enjoy (“smell like someone else’s teen spirit,” par example, and that line about the ancients drinking at El Q.  I used to drink there often; I know those people.)

I left her typos intact.  As a parting note: I wonder what’s happening with that Van Sant biopic?

Generation Xorcism: Baby Boomer Ghostbusting at the Chelsea Hotel

“I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were talking so brave and so sweet,
giving me head on the unmade bed,
while the limousines wait in the street.”

–Leonard Cohen, Chelsea Hotel #2

The Chelsea Hotel, with its dead poets and rock star revenants, is one of the most counterculturally significant locations in New York City, perhaps the most hipster-haunted location in the U. S. of A. The glamour of the Chelsea, with its curlicue iron balconies, resolute dumpiness and ghostly auditory echoes of a thousand fantastic lays–Edie Sedgwick and Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen and Janis Joplin (musical homage to said encounter above), unspeakably sexy Vogue model Verushcka and Peter Fonda–is still utterly evident. Even the ugly abstract art in the lobby speaks to the place’s authentic Bohemian status, unlike the gorgeous, expertly crafted products of the boutique-art doppelganger Chelsea four or five blocks West. When I’m in town I like to go to the El Quijote bar downstairs from the hotel and drink next to people who have been perched for hours–perhaps days, even decades, a century?–on the black vinyl barstools. These are drinkers who make my thirstiest night seem like I’m sitting in a high chair in my mama’s kitchen. This is, after all, where Dylan Thomas uttered the last words, “I’ve had eighteen whiskies, I think that’s a record,” before retiring to sleep off his hangover for all eternity.

In 1992, critic Anthony Vidler published a book entitled The Architectural Uncanny, which posited that architectural space is psychically charged [editor’s note: need this book immediately], which echoes an earlier theory of Walter Benjamin’s that fetishism explores a confused overlap between the mental and the physical, the organic and the inorganic, as in the great poster for Andy Warhol’s film about the Chelsea Hotel, above. Having a paella dinner at El Quijote in the October rain this year, I had a chance to mull these theories over vis-a-vis the Chelsea. On the sidewalk outside the hotel, the red brick facade was suddenly a tombstone, its historical-monument plaques epitaphs, the still vibrant swarm of life inside a danse macabre to the tune of somebody else’s youth. The mirror over the bar didn’t reflect back my own face, but someone inhabiting someone else’s possibly better era, like the 19th century photo-double that grins back at Jack Nicholson’s 1980s hotel caretaker in Kubrick’s The Shining.

The uncanny version of the El Quijote mirror gives us a funhouse look down the decades into the irrational possibilities of the bewitched architectural space. Suddenly my generation’s much remarked (and thereby constantly reinforced) “ironic” embrace of other peoples’ clothes and music and styles is not a choice, but a masochistic assignment to worhip and enact scenes from the previous generation’s bygone but admittedly intoxicating youth. The crimson awning over the lobby entrance in this light is the famished cat in the animated cartoon who deceptively rolls out his tongue as a red carpet leading into the flashing entrance marquee of his fanged mouth. Sitting in the Chelsea drunk on the musty but still potent perfumes of Jack Smith and Joey Ramone, I’m actually volunteering to surrender my subjectivity and enage in a seance where I am not a citizen of the 21st century but an empty portal for some East Village other. If you doubt the Chelsea’s status as the Haunted Indian Burial Ground of Baby Boomer hipster culture, consider that no significant counterculture has been produced by Western white middle class youth since Sid Vicious murdered his girlfriend on this very spot and died of a heroin overdose in Rikers prison in the middle of the East River shortly afterward.

Like the Chelsea Hotel, our present culture is so haunted by the long-over and yet uncannily indestructible “youth” of the Baby Boomers, so crammed with grey ghosts that room to inhabit the present is nearly nonexistent. That cultural undertow you’ve been feeling lately is them, invisibly buttonholing young strangers for just one more shared joint or pint, just one more amazingly funny anecdote about what happened back when. Our samizdat, our stray revolutionary pamphleteering, takes place in the invisible world inside the computer. Like peering into a private diorama inside an Easter egg, Generation X and younger generations have to look to the digital to find our stories anywhere. It’s not the already dying years of my own prime that I remember well in the Chelsea Hotel, it’s a mnemonic rock and roll rosary on which I worry the beads of memories that aren’t really mine. There is a vision haunting contemporary culture this Halloween, it looks like a spookhouse and smells like somebody else’s teen spirit. Like that famous adage about a nice place to visit, there’s nothing wrong with a trip to the Chelsea, as long as you leave the getaway limousine idling in the street. Request a 2005 model, and if you overhear a voice saying “Well Andy says…” grab your iPod and run like hell.

To the Is-Land

May 18, 2016

The New York Times is running a little series on islands this week, and I’m thrilled, but a little sad they didn’t call and ask me to contribute. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by islands: their miniature sustainability, the way they all seem haunted, even the jolly Caribbean ones. I was obsessed with drawing road maps as a kid, and, perhaps because islands were manageably small, I chose to plan out a million different islands, the towns or counties (depending on how big I decided to make it), the cul-de-sacs and stretch of stores. Then I’d decide where my friends would live and where I would live (always the nicest part of town, as I was a bit of a snob then.) I was also enchanted by addresses, for reasons I’ve never quite understood. Even now, when I visit a new place, I pick out the houses I like best, and imagine a card being sent to me at that address. 90 Church Street, Charleston, South Carolina. 36 Quai de Bethune, Ile Saint-Louis, Paris. Ballamona Estate, Oak Hill, Isle of Man, United Kingdom.

I’m so beguiled by islands, in fact, that I paid $500 to be a “fellow” in an artists’ commune on Governor’s Island last summer, even though I could have paid $0 to continue writing from my couch. I even wrote the above paragraph (talk about a pause in rumination) from an empty bedroom (I’m guessing) of a crumbling, plumbing-free house on Governor’s, which is full of decrepit and vacant old buildings (another obsession.) One day a friend came to visit and we wandered around the place, sneaking into buildings with the doors slightly ajar, fantasizing about writing a YA book in which all the tri-state area teens are relocated to an ominous boarding-school-type facility on the island after a nearby nuclear disaster––OR WAS IT?

The issue with loving islands is that eventually, you’ll start to want them to be smaller, more sparsely populated, more island-like. It’s like a drug, except instead of more, more, more, it’s smaller, smaller, smaller. A fondness for Ireland becomes an obsession with the Aran Isles; affection for Venice morphs into a burning desire to set foot on Poveglia Plague Island. Best of all, the Thimble Islands, the improbably adorable little specks in Long Island Sound, so close to where I lived for so long and yet I never even thought to go. With names like Frisbie Island, Little Pumpkin Island, Potato Island, Cut in Two Island, and so on. The coast of Maine? A dream for an islet junkie.

My fantasy of the ideal island home has changed a great deal over the years. It used to be Saint Croix, in the US Virgin Islands, or Aruba––the Caribbean was my jam, before I deemed it too touristy to sustain real life. More recently, it was Governor’s (they say you can’t sleep overnight, but ferry employees do, which might be something to look into.) Now, I’m kind of into islands in this neck of the woods: Isles of Scilly, Blasket Islands (only bunnies live there now), Faroes (which are Scandinavian, if you wish.)  Or maybe I’ll just make like Andrea Zittel and construct my own little island and float off on it.

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Robert Smithson’s “Island Project”

 

Let’s Get What We Really Need

May 17, 2016

It seems that all-female remakes of classic dude flicks are in vogue.  First, Ghostbusters, and now, Ocean’s 11, starring, maybe, Jennifer Lawrence?  From some website called Movie News Guide:

Jennifer Lawrence has been making headlines for her every real or reel life move. Rumors of the “X-Men Apocalypse” star joining the female-led “Ocean’s Eleven” spin-off had been making rounds for quite sometime, but the representative of Lawrence has recently lashed out at it terming untrue and baseless.

(Quick aside: how hilariously UPSET is the tone in this?  Her representative “lashed out” that the rumor was “baseless.”  It’s like she’s been accused of having kiddie porn or something.)

Anyway, I guess this is a fine idea, but what I decided really needs to happen is an all-female remake of Reservoir Dogs.  My husband thinks this idea is meh, but I’m pretty sure it’s gold, Jerry!  I call the role of Mr. Pink.  I’ve always agreed with him on the tipping front.

 

A Girl and Her Gameboy

April 10, 2016

When I was in maybe tenth grade or so, I read a little interview with Lisa Kudrow in InStyle Magazine (slow Sunday, I guess) in which she said that her absolute favorite stress reliever of all time was Tetris on Gameboy.  I knew the sweet bliss of zoning out to Tetris myself.  When my brothers and I were little, my mother used to buy us new video games for our handheld devices––back then, we had Gameboys and Sega Nomads––so we would stay relatively quiet during the sixteen-hour-plus car rides our family took every summer.  Sonic the Hedgehog was a great favorite, but it was anxiety producing, as you were supposed to be aspiring to new levels.  My brother had a Kirby game, which was fun, but a little bad-trippy (somehow I knew even at that age.)  Tetris, on the other hand, never seemed to make me worry about my accomplishment; I was always just content to play.  So streamlined, so clear and mathematical, that dinky digitized Russian theme song––heaven!

But by the time I read that little interview with Phoebe, Gameboy was a thing of my family’s past.  Still, her mention of it stirred a longing in me that remained for the next ten years, until finally, I had thirty-odd bucks and some time to spare, which I spent browsing Ebay for old machines.  Now, I am the proud owner of an old-ass Gameboy––the big, gray, clunky kind, not the sleeker color versions of the late nineties.  Although the screen has fallen off a few times (thank G-d for superglue) I have only had to change the batteries once in the past two years.  The most serious technical glitch I’ve encountered has been solved by blowing in the little slot at the top or rubbing the batteries until the machine goes on.  Take that, iPhone!  (And yes, I do believe playing it on the Game Boy is somehow more enjoyable than downloading it and playing it on my phone would be.)  I play it everywhere: on the plane, on the train, on ferries to exotic islands off the coast of Sicily.  Okay, so maybe I mainly play when I’m being transported somewhere, but still, I play a lot.  People tend to find it pretty funny, and it makes me happy to see how joyfully nostalgic they get seeing this lovable relic.  “Does this make you a hipster?” a lady on the New York City subway once asked, only half in jest.  I don’t care! I thought to myself.  I love Tetris!  And if loving Tetris is wrong, I don’t wanna be right!

Recently I read this article about Rutherford Chang, an artist who is working on an ongoing project to beat the top Tetris score in the world (held by Uli Horner, a London-based architect.)  Here are a few things he said about Tetris:

“Every 10 lines you complete, you advance one level and the pieces fall faster,” he says. “Eventually they fall so fast that you can’t keep up and you die. You can’t ever beat the game. It’s about squeezing in as much perfection as possible in this limited time before your inevitable death.”

Whether you read Tetris as a parable for life’s finitude or the savagery of capitalism, there’s no denying the focus it requires. “It’s a pretty brutal game,” says Chang. “It definitely requires a lot of concentration, where you only think about this rudimentary logic. It’s meditative.”

Meditative––that’s why I do it.  It’s like my version of mindfulness.  And for a split second after reading about Chang, I felt envious of him, sitting around all day playing Tetris and doing it to some legitimate end.  But then I realized that if I were doing what he is doing, the game would cease to soothe me the way it does.  Once something becomes an ambitious pursuit, it no longer can be relaxing (see also: writing.)  And so for now, I remain a dedicated amateur.

Calling All Jewish Jewelry Designers

March 9, 2016

I’ve long been enamored of this story of Hasidic rabbi from Poland:

It was said of Reb Simcha Bunem that he carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one he wrote: Bishvili nivra ha-olam—“for my sake the world was created.” On the other he wrote: V’anokhi afar v’efer”—“I am but dust and ashes.” He would take out each slip of paper as necessary, as a reminder to himself.

So enamored, in fact, that I’ve always hoped some spiritual jewelry designer would read my mind and make a necklace homage to this saying.  Ideally, the necklace would be a simple gold, circle pendant, each side engraved with one of the sayings.

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And yes, I do realize I can probably just have one made, and maybe I’ll do that, but I just thought I’d give some young upstart the chance to roll with a pretty great idea.  #mitzvah!

 

 

Not Kidding, Or: Sybil! The Musical

March 6, 2016

Very frequently I say deadly serious things that people assume are jokes.  Like, “Hey, save me some of that Percocet you’ll be prescribed post-back surgery!”  Or, “I actually believe that photographs steal a bit of the subject’s soul.”  Or, “Remember when I exhibited at Art Basel in Miami?”  People laugh and say, “ID, you’re so funny,” and I’m left scratching my head, wondering how I could communicate to others better when I really mean something and when I’m just joshing around.  Case in point: when I beseech people to find me a musical theater composer to help me write the libretto for a project I’m working on called Sybil! The Musical, and they laugh and then never find me any damn composer.

For those of you not into psych misery lit, Sybil is a classic––nay, THE classic––of the genre.  Written by Flora Rheta Schreiber, with the help (or perhaps collusion) of psychiatrist Cornelia Wilber, Sybil tells the story of Shirley Mason––not named in the book––a young woman inhabited by sixteen distinct personalities.  Her condition––Multiple Personality Disorder––was, the good doctor discovered, the result of unbelievable childhood trauma.  When it was published in the 1970s, the public went wild for the story, and for the diagnosis (prior to Sybil, fewer than two hundred cases had been documented; after its release, individual clinicians claimed to be seeing thousands of cases a year.)  There was a TV movie starring Sally Field, multiple appearances on talk shows for Schreiber and Wilbur, and talks of board games, dolls, and t-shirts.

One small glitch, though: Sybil wasn’t true.  There was a woman named Shirley Mason, and she did enter therapy, but as Debbie Nathan tells it in Sybil Exposed, her fascinating 2011 expose of the whole clusterfuck, Shirley was heavily influenced by her therapist––and the drugs Wilbur frequently administered to her hapless patient––to basically behave like someone with MPD.  And then doctor hooked up with writer and figured they could all get rich off the very salacious story of sex abuse, inner children, and ultimately, redemption.

One of the offshoots of Sybil they considered was a musical.  Here’s Nathan:

“By 1986 [Flora Rheta Schreiber] realized that The Shoemaker [the book she wrote after Sybil] had put her $100,000 in debt.  Sybil had sold millions of copies in America by then and been published in nineteen foreign editions, yet Flora was utterly broke.  Desperate to make money, she tried to sell The Shoemaker to Hollywood or television.  There were no takers.  She pitched spinoffs of the TV version of Sybil: a soap opera; a Broadway musical she proposed should be choreographed by Twyla Tharp, with songs including ‘The Peggy Part of Me,’ ‘Nobody Likes Girls,’ and ‘I Want to Be the Man I Marry.’  These efforts also bombed.”

When I first read about the musical, I thought it was the funniest fucking thing I had ever heard.  Obviously I’m not talking about Shirley Mason’s predicament, or the wave of irresponsible psychiatry her ersatz biography spawned, but just the concept of the musical.  I have––no exaggeration–-thought about Sybil! The Musical every day for the last two years.  And finally, I’ve decided to make a go of it.  But I have no idea how to write a musical.  For a short while in 2014, I worked for a very famous actor (his NDA spidey sense is probably kicking in right now) who was writing a musical, but I actually think I was better prepared to work within this genre before I had that experience.  All I know is that I’ve decided on a meta-plot––the play will be about a troupe of actors working to put on a production of Sybil, in other words––and that the grand finale will be a modern dance-esque sequence in which all Sybil’s personalities merge together, culminating in a spirited version of “One” from A Chorus Line (provided I can secure the rights.)

So!  Now that you know I am NOT KIDDING, will you help me find my composer?  I think this will take Edinburgh Fringe by storm.