Tag Archives: A to Z Challenge

G: Gowanus & The Great British Bake Show

2020 A to Z Challenge, , , , , , , , ,

A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

GOWANUS: Gowanus, once known as South Brooklyn, is the neighborhood where I live. It saw the first settlement of Dutch farmers, who staked their claim along the 1.8-mile-long Gowanus Creek. British ships navigated the creek during the American Revolutionary War, the manufacturing industry turned it into the Gowanus Canal in the mid-1800s, and allegedly, the Mafia used it as a dumping ground. Pollution has made it a superfund, and thus, the Gowanus Monster was born.

(“Aqua Incognito” by street artist, Raul Ayala, in 2014)

Tales of its toxic waters has made it into novels and movies, but it wasn’t until 2014 when author Dave Kelly published an issue of his comic series called, “It Came from the Gowanus Canal,” that the legend of a grotesque Loch Ness emerged from the murky, contaminated sludge. The comic series publisher teamed up with the Gowanus Souvenir Shop (a fantastic shop, by the way) to create a fake movie poster, which also lead to a number of items such as postcards, hats, t-shirts, prints, etc. My time here wouldn’t be complete without some souvenirs of my own.

THE GREAT BRITISH BAKING SHOW: Yes, I’m slow to the party. Everyone has already binge-watched this charming, highly addictive baking show on Netflix, that pins kind and lovely amateur bakers against each other. It’s refreshing to see a reality show where the contestants are actually nice to one another, whereas, in the U.S., abhorrent behavior is a staple of American reality television (a.k.a. “I’m not here to make friends” entertainment).

I don’t bake often, and aside from bread, we rarely consume home-baked goods such as cakes, cookies, pies, etc. Unless I’m baking for a crowd–which isn’t happening these days–a half-eaten lemon bundt cake will start to resemble the Gowanus Canal lurking under the foil.

But dang it, I now have a hankering to bake and eat it all. Suddenly, I’m perusing old cookbooks and spending way too much time on Pinterest building my baking boards. When I cook dinner, I find myself with an inkling of anxiety as an imaginary clock ticks down, signaling I have little time left to assemble our veggie bowls. I’m taking the show in doses, and because I’m only on the second season (or collections, as they call them), I should be able to sparse the show out in a nice, even layer.

E: East Estuary & Eeriness

2020 A to Z Challenge, , , , , , , ,

A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

EAST ESTUARY (RIVER): That’s right; the East River is actually an estuary (I couldn’t resist the triple E). The island of Manhattan lies between the Hudson River (also an estuary) on the west side, and the East River on the east side. What you see above is the southern tip of Manhattan and the beautiful Brooklyn Bridge, taken from the Brooklyn Bridge Park, just south of DUMBO–and only a 30-40 minute walk from our apartment.

While it’s cleaner than it has been in decades, the river’s pollution level deems it safe only for secondary contact such as boating. From sewage to bodies to diamonds, the East River contains it all, including a surprisingly diverse marine life (much of which comes with warnings to not consume–no surprise). Despite it’s sordid waters, many swimmers cough up (no pun intended) $2000-$3000 to take part in the 20 Bridges Swim each year. Nope.

The river has had its share of disasters including the 1904 sinking of a steamship that claimed over 1,000 lives, making it the deadliest NYC catastrophe until 9/11.

I hate to just rag on the East River, so here’s a fun story from last September where a paddle boarder came across a tomato plant growing out of a wooden pillar in the river.

Photo: Matthew Frey

EERINESS: Empty would also be appropriate. We rarely venture out unless we’re going to the grocery store, or maybe the occasional short walk to get the blood going.

The streets and sidewalks are quiet; an eeriness has settled over the city. Discarded rubber gloves have replaced coffee cup lids. Frankly, that’s about the only trash you see right now. We made a game out of it: if we spot two gloves of different colors mingling together, that’s a padiddle. A mask and a pair of gloves together is a triage. We haven’t spotted one of those yet. (It’s easy to run out of things to discuss on a long walk.)

Before leaving the apartment, I feel as though we’re preparing to walk out into Chernobyl. Once outside, it’s hard to not envision you’re in an episode of the The Walking Dead, feeling vulnerable, uncertain, and fearful.

But it’s necessary. And as eerie as it is, I’m glad to see very little people out and about. So let’s keep up the eeriness until we get through this.

D: Dioramas & Dig Me Out

2020 A to Z Challenge, , , , , , , ,

A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

DIORAMAS: We all know them, but we don’t all love them. I wouldn’t say I love dioramas, but since childhood, I’ve been drawn to them. As a vegan, I should despise them, but dang it, I can’t quit these antiquated, taxidermy displays.

The quiet, dimly lit rooms with each scene illuminated like a vintage slide, captivate me. The background art alone are marvels in themselves, many dating back to the 1940s, that transport the viewer back thousands of years before we humans screwed things up. I get lost in the details depicted behind the bygone animals. The whole thing is a strange dichotomy: we’re seeing a dead animal “alive” in its habitat. That’s exactly why dioramas were created in the first place; to elicit an emotional connection between humans and nature.

These pre-virtual reality depictions of history are now being eyed with a bit more light these days. Many museums across the globe see these displays as dusty, outdated demonstrations that no longer serve their intended purpose, and are being removed. Others still see them as a vital part of our history that remind us of a world before climate change and the deterioration of many of our environments. In 2011, the American Museum of Natural History in NYC (where I took the above picture) spent $2.5 million to update and restore the dioramas.

Right now, there’s just something inviting about these peaceful depictions of eras not yet fraught by humans, that I’d like to sit with for a while.

If you share my fondness for these displays, the AMNH (and many museums around the country) have opened their virtual doors and are allowing visitors to peruse their exhibits online. Might I suggest starting with the Akeley Hall of African Mammals?

DIG ME OUT: Who doesn’t love slang? It’s a side of humanity that I . . . dig. And as a writer, I love slang even more. According to the Victorian Dictionary of Slang & Phrase, Dig me out was a society term meaning, call for me; stop me “from lazy loafing in the house.”

Alas, no one is coming to dig me out of this imposed ennui. The fact is, I’m very fortunate The Husband and I work from home, and with our son grown, we don’t have little ones to keep corralled and entertained.

Frankly, a lot of my time is spent worrying about my aforementioned offspring and my mother and stepfather back in Colorado. All of them, however, are staying indoors and taking every precaution to stay healthy. The rest of my time is spent writing, reading, listening to podcasts, watching TV., attending online webinars, and chatting with friends. To get the blood pumping, I’ve taken to going up and down the stairs at the end of the hall.

The Husband ordered a stationary bike that will hopefully arrive next week. My calves aren’t happy about this makeshift gym, and frankly, I’m terrified I’ll take a digger down this concrete death trap.

One of my favorite ways to fill time (and learn a thing or two) is to listen to podcasts. Allow me to help dig you out of boredom with these suggested podcasts:

Everything is Alive, The Hidden Brain, Wait, Wait . . . Don’t Tell Me, Criminal, This is Love, The Anthropocene Reviewed & Phoebe Reads a Mystery.

B: Broadway & Bidets

2020 A to Z Challenge, , , , , , ,

A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

BROADWAY: I’m up to 19 Broadway shows; 14 since we moved here last March. TKTS, the discounted ticket vendor had become my go-to app. With the exception of a few, I knew little to nothing about most of the performances before seeing them, which is I believe is half the fun.

Technically, Cyrano was off-Broadway, but up until the mid-1800s, the heart of Broadway was located at Union Square where we got to see Mr. Dinklage. Check out TheaterSeatStore for some fun facts about the history of Broadway, like this gem:

“During the back half of the century, there were fewer prostitutes in the audience which in turn increased the number of women who attended theater.”

Because performances are suspended, actors are finding ways to raise money AND still keep us entertained. The #BWayHandWashChallenge encourages Broadway stars to sing show tunes while washing their hands for 20 seconds, all the while raising money for theater charities.

On to another hygiene challenge . . .

BIDETS: That’s what in those boxes. Not one, but two bidets.

Do we need two? No. Do we need one? No. Does The Husband need to sleep at night? Yes. Not knowing where his next roll of toilet paper was going to come from, simply became too much–for us both.

Surprisingly, unlike a lot of places, it hasn’t been an issue getting tissue here in Brooklyn. I hope I can return these bidets.

A: Arts Calendar & Apartment Life 24/7

2020 A to Z Challenge, , , , , , , , , , ,

A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

ARTS CALENDAR: It only took me a year to figure out I needed one. New York City is a busy place, comprised with only what I can describe as an incessant plethora of activities. I shouldn’t have been surprised, given it was one of the reasons we moved here; I just didn’t realize it’d require a pocket guide to keep track.

March was shaping up to be a busy month of culture for me with a variety of new museum exhibits, poetry workshops and readings, and concerts. I can’t bring myself to the turn the page and see Elton John, Barclays Center, written under April 11. Who knew March would be the longest month of nothing.

Fortunately, most museums have opened up their virtual doors so we can at least check out exhibits from afar, but otherwise, it’s all on hold as the world grapples with a pandemic.

But hey, that’s just the way it goes. Most things will get rescheduled. It’s not the end of the world . . . wait . . . *thinks about it* . . . so anyway . . .

APARTMENT LIFE 24/7: The Husband and I have both worked from home for at least ten years, so this new normal shouldn’t be so new, yet somehow, our 800+ square foot space suddenly feels a bit smaller.

Like, why do his toenail clipping sound so much louder? Has that faucet always dripped? What’s that smell? When did that annoying tick of yours start? It’s almost time for my 10:00 a.m. nap.

We have our respective wings in our 2b/2b, rectangle-shaped apartment. At the end of the day, we’ll meet in the middle for dinner and TV time. We’re fortunate to have lots of natural light, so when we eventually emerge from hiding, our eyes should be able to withstand the daylight.

After I completed my novel, I had planned to reward myself by taking a little time to wander museums in the mornings, but that got nixed before I could say MoMa. Now, waiting for agents to respond to my queries is like watching those toenails grow.

It’s Day 1 of this A to Z Challenge and as you can tell, the snark has set in.