Archive for 2011

Hard Landing in Downtown NYC

September 5, 2011

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One bummer of living in downtown New York City is that any return home, after time away, necessitates a confrontation with a grim political past, i.e. the old World Trade Center site.

When walking past Ground Zero on a daily basis–late to work, late coming home from work–it is easy enough to pay little attention to it. There are the windows of Brooks Brothers, for example, a store I never seem to enter, but always think I should. (I have this belief–never tries–that if I would just buy a few quality pieces that, unlike all the clothes I get online, really fit, I would never be late for anything again.)

Then there is Century 21 whose sidewalk is jammed with people carrying large bags.

And the fire station. Which is distracting because New York City firemen really are quite good looking. (The calendar doesn’t lie.)

Then there are the streets down by the excavation of the old Deutsch Bank building–they are distracting because I once saw a rat in broad daylight/twilight. Right on the sidewalk.

So on a normal workday, there is plenty to think about other than 9/11.

But on a return from a trip, carrying stuff that makes you walk slowly, it is hard to avoid the sight of all the tourists and, worse, the many cameramen. (One reporter was getting his face powdered today). I am being unfair, I suppose, but the energy feels remarkably like rubbernecking. (The powder-faced reporter had a very ostentatiously curled plastic cord snaking behind one ear.)

I will be very happy when this week is over.

Menace then glow.

September 4, 2011

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Earlier tonight, the sky turned menacing.

Not more rain! We could hear the heavy machines still working down below on the damage from the last storm (Irene.)

Soon water rifled the sky, punctuated by a couple of huge booms.

The distant growl of machinery cut off; men shouted. Inside the house, the dog stepped from her small bed, tail down.

As suddenly, it stopped.

Inside, the dog lay down. Outside, an afterglow of storm lit up the grass, the trees, the sky, even my socks.

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Not just my socks.

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Not stranded in Catskills Anymore. (Darn.)

September 4, 2011

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Reconstruction in Catskills Post-Irene (Stream-Cleaning?)

September 3, 2011

The above video may only be really interesting if you are a child (probably male) who really likes the 1939 classic Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel.    I am not such a child.  Even so, seeing (live) the machines working on the stream up here in the Catskills has been pretty extraordinary in the last few days.  The crews are working with speed and good humor, and seem almost as enamored of their big machines as fans of Mike Mulligan.

Disaster conditions apparently allow for a lot of tugging and pulling.  I told the two guys above that their coordination was like a ballet.  My husband, who had noticed the large Harley-Davidson tattoos on the workers’ forearms, thought that was not perhaps the most appropriate compliment, but the guys seemed to like it just fine.

P.S. – the little shriek in the middle of the video is me being surprised (stupidly) by the possibility of flying debris.

A Small Dog Is To A Large Zucchini

September 2, 2011

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A Small Dog Is To A Large Zucchini

A small dog is to a large zucchini
what a bungalow is to a road (six lane),
what a tadpole is to a Peach Bellini
made from a magnum of Champagne,
what a thimble is to a Fred Fellini
and miso soup was to Charlemagne–
the nexus, to some, seems very teeny,
to others, perhaps, it’s simple, plain.
All I know is that my large zucchini
and my small dog just aren’t the same.

(As always, all rights reserved.)

Working remotely Post-Irene. Normalcy of new milk.

September 1, 2011

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A greater sense of normalcy was felt by this particular evacuee in the Catskills post-Irene today. (For those who have not been following this blog, I am a “Zone A” resident who was evacuated from New York City six days ago. With remarkable foresight, I went to a part of upstate New York that turned out to be a center of flood damage.)

Normal is what you are used to. I am getting more used to the rearrangement of the streams around here. Just as the water is endlessly deepening its new channels, so the sight of those new channels is becoming less shocking to me.

Even working remotely– emailing myself documents to work on, walking out beyond the back porch for calls to my office (the small field there is one of the few places where my cell gets decent reception)–is getting less cumbersome.

A lot of this situation is frankly pretty nice. The days since the flood have been beautiful; doing office work in the open air is lovely.

Then too, there is the wonderful fact that someone made the long roundabout trip of just-opened detour road and the short hike on foot to bring us fresh milk today. (Meaning that my very strong tea with same is assured for a while longer.)

One misses the cameraderie of co-workers. The group groan and grunt The (more or less) set hours. It is easy, working remotely, to start very early, and then because of interruptions–the need of one’s dog or one’s own hind legs to take a walk–to feel pressured to go quite late. (Maybe one doesn’t, in fact, go quite late, but it is certainly easy to feel pressured.)

And yet, of course, it’s all so very lucky–to have options, milk, a dry place to sit. At the other end of the short hike and long roundabout detour, in our nearby Catskill town, many are enmired in dried mud, wondering what comes next.

While, of course, down even longer roads, life goes on as usual. More or less. Until the next crisis. Normal.

Wasting Away Margaretville

August 31, 2011

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The above is a piece of road outside of Margaretville, New York, post-Irene.

I have not yet been to Margaretville since Irene, largely because of sections of road like the one above. However, I heard two very disturbing bits of news today: first, that much of Margaretville will be demolished given the hazardous conditions created by buildings damaged by Irene. Two, that some Republican congressmen such as Eric Cantor have discussed mounting an effort to withhold funds for FEMA assistance to disaster ravaged areas in the absence of further budget cuts.

The village of Margaretville had the distinction, prior to this demolition, of being a true town. The historically difficult economic conditions of Upstate New York have, perhaps, discouraged the abundance of Walmart’s. As a result, Margaretville was an actual center, with a grocery store, a couple of pharmacies, ice cream parlors, a cheese store, a sports shop, a library, a jewelers, antique store (in an old movie theater), a relatively nice restaurant, greasy spoon, bar, liquor store, thrift shop, children’s/art and clothing store, and (occasional) hair cutters. There was even the “Department Store”–a place where you could (at different times in its history) buy work pants, boots, and rare coins. Canning jars!

Everything was in walking distance, connected by sidewalks. There were a couple of parking lots, one near a stream that sported ducks! (One of them bit my daughter’s finger.) There was an old and somewhat grandiose school building built, I think, from WPA funds.

Huge ice cream cones. (Perry’s.)

Winters are long up here and there is no legalized gambling. This may be another way of saying that it was not a tremendously prosperous town, although lately, owing in part to a popular farmers’ market, local farm businesses and dairies seemed to be coming back.

Not only is Main Street being demolished, but the local trailer park (in Arkville, the adjacent town) has washed away. People who lived there have lost all they owned.

The local road crew has been working very hard, filling in crevices, removing rubble, redirecting new creeks and stream bits, arranging for milk and food to reach families still cut-off. One worker mentioned, when we spoke to him today, that he hadn’t been able to sleep even when he’d finally gotten home each night. If we wanted to donate clothes or food to those in Margaretville, he said, we could take them down to the local fire station. (This assumes we had a large vehicle that could get through the still-ravaged roads. We don’t, but still it’s a big improvement on being stranded.) I didn’t get a chance to ask him what he thought about protecting tax breaks for private jet owners.

Double Yellow Lines Mean “No Passing” – Strips of Road-stripe Catskills Post-Irene

August 30, 2011

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End of the Road? Catskills/Post-Irene – Margaretville/Fleischmans

August 30, 2011

The above video (a bit less wobbly than some of my earlier ones) is of a Catskill Road in a valley outside of  Margaretville and Fleischmans, New York.  I haven’t been to Margaretville or Fleischmans since Irene==that would involve crossing what is left of the above road.  From the video reports, the towns appear to have been hit very hard, large sections destroyed. Both towns were home to many who were already struggling economically; it is difficult to imagine how they are coping with the losses caused by Irene.

What is also very sad is that each of Margaretville and Fleischmans are actual towns, with “Main Streets” and cafes, bakeries,restaurants,, actual smallish stores for food, clothing, guns, planting supplies, pots and pans, art materials, and (okay) antiques. (The nearest Walmart is probably an hour away.)

But they have character.  And sidewalks.

Fleischmans has both a fairly large Hasidic population and also, it seems Mexican immigrants.  When you stop there on the early morning bus, you see groups of young men in long black robes and hats with various colors of bath towels flung over their shoulders, while even the smallest dim shop sells those dark round slabs used for Mexican hot chocolate.

Margaretville has a library!  And ducks!  And some small platforms for skateboarders next to the ducks!  And a playground and the Cheese Barrel and the Bun and Cone.  Margaretville recovered from a major flood in ’96, but governments were different then. Hope that the town gets help now.

Which Rocks Don’t Belong? (Catskill Driveway – Post-Irene)

August 29, 2011

Above is a video of those parts of a Catskill driveway not currently under water.

See prior post for Catskill roads.