Posts Tagged ‘love’

Matches and Memories 

December 28, 2024

A few weeks ago, as I was scrolling through Instagram, I came across a post from my friend Chris who shared a story that included matches from the famous Coffee Shop that once took over the corner of 16th Street and Union Square West. 

As soon as I saw those blue and yellow matches it struck a chord and I quickly went to get my container filled with matchbooks I’ve collected. Sure enough, I still had them.  Even though I met Chris years after he worked at the Coffee Shop, we both had that same little piece of NYC memorabilia. 

Most of the places that fueled my NYC energy are – sadly – no longer in existence.  In the early 90s I worked downtown. The city was very different back then – there wasn’t a Walgreens or Chase bank on every corner – instead there were more brick and mortar stores and old mom and pop places. 

As I rummaged through my blue glass container with that overwhelming smell of sulphur in the air, each match book I touched sparked a memory.  

There were the many magical moments at the Greatest Bar on Earth and maybe too many Friday night margaritas at El Teddy’s in Tribeca. I could almost taste the yummy  pancakes and hear the click of flutes filled with mimosas as we toasted another Sunday jazzy brunch at The Cupping Room. 

For a moment I felt that I could hear my feet walking on the crunchy floor filled with peanut shells at the Louisiana  Community Bar & Grill on Broadway and Houston.  I remember ordering my first flight of wine at The Soho Kitchen and Bar and I thought that was the coolest thing.  And oh, those nights dancing on the chairs after dinner at Boom on Spring Street followed by late night singing and dancing to 1970s hits at PollyEsther’s in the East Village. I can still feel the beat from the tambourine. We were having the time of our lives. 

The one book of matches that wasn’t in the pile was my all-time favorite, Lucky Strike in Soho.  I think I took all my friends and even my Mom to Lucky Strike.  That’s what I loved about Lucky Strike; you could spend hours sipping cappuccinos, a leisurely lunch or just a glass of wine, but what I especially loved was a steak frites dinner with a bottle of wine or two, simply talking about the meaning of life. 

I was introduced to Lucky Strike in the 90s when there was a line to get in – it was worth the wait – there was sense of excitement as we walked through the doorway and that velvet curtain parted and we entered an intimate bar filled with people drinking, eating, and laughing. But the real fun started around the midnight hour. We always ended up dancing the late night hours away as the DJ, tucked in a corner, was happily spinning records. For me, this place encapsulated my New York City. 

Every matchbook has a story and I cherish all the memories. Now, when I see the blue Chase sign instead of the vibrant bright red “Coffee Shop Bar” sign that once lit up Union Square West, I smile and pause for a moment – I am glad there are places I’ll remember even though most have gone. At least I have these matchbooks to spark my memories. 

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Coffee, a Cry and Creativity at Campground

June 9, 2024

On May 17th,  I met up with Sara Hosey – an author and the host of the creating writing class that I participated in at the Sea Cliff library back in March – for a coffee at the Campgroup in Sea Cliff.  Campground is a place known for craft beer and craft coffee and a fun place to take a seat or perhaps pitch a tent. 

I was almost going to cancel after an insane week in the office. But I needed to take a break and could spare 45 minutes to meet up with a new friend.  I took a deep breath and after a short moment of gratitude considering all the positives around me, out the door I went.   

She and I quickly got to chatting. Not too far into our chat, a wave of emotion came over me along with a few tears that slowly began to trickle down my face.  I tried to resist but the emotion was real. 

I said, “I am so sorry. I am not the kind of person that shows up for coffee and brings along drama,” and quickly explained that I had had a stressful few weeks. With compassion, she just said to “go with it.” And so I did.  

As I wiped away my tears, I glanced at my phone and saw a response from a text from Lover. Earlier I wrote,” I am exhausted, I mean I don’t know how much more my brain can handle,” and his response was “try to relax and enjoy the new friendship.” I read this out loud to Sara and she thought it was sweet. As did I.  

Exhale.

I recently heard Jerry Seinfeld say, “Does anyone ever look back and say ‘I wish I had spent more time at the office?’” That struck a chord with me. It astonishes me to think that I’ve worked more than 37 years at the same place.  Am I getting too old for my job?  Or is it time to start a new career? Or perhaps both? 

My mind is sharp and I can still multi-task like a mad woman, but I continually question myself. Is this what I should be doing and for how much longer? Any time that word “should” comes in – it  isn’t a good sign.  If I were doing something I loved, would I feel this exhausted and mentally drained? It feels like I have been on a roller coaster for years at my job, yet I keep staying on for another ride. I’ve maintained my balance, managing to find time for a life outside of work and to balance my many creative endeavors. But lately – this idea of getting old – hit me. I am not 25 years old. If I do want to start a second career, it’s time that I step it up. 

I recently sorted through a chest filled with old journals which included over 20 years of dating, grieving, and aching to be in love, along with a consistent message of wanting to write and tell stories, whether it be via prose or photography.  It was so exhausting reading through them that I started to take some of the journals, immersed them under water, and then ripped them to shreds before tossing them into the garbage.

It was always the same theme and the same story line.  I have probably been fantasizing about writing for almost as long as I was fantasizing about falling in love.  

The love has arrived. Now I am finding myself as a creative person. These little monthly essays are part of that process. They help.

“What we resist persists” the wise Carl Jung once said.  Ain’t it the truth. I have worked through many obstacles in life but this feels different. It is fair to say that I have stayed with the familiar for a very long time and that a feeling of comfort has kept me feeling safe. It is time to be honest and say that I am fearful. There. I am putting it on paper.  

After the coffee with Sara I came back home. I had a work call. I felt mentally drained. I could barely make a sentence, but I pushed through as I have for the past 37 years and then I let things go.  Maybe I needed to shed a few tears to welcome my new life with Lover in the quaint town of Sea Cliff and the many creative possibilities that lie ahead.  I am glad I didn’t resist those tears. They are a good reminder to have patience, to be persistent, and stop this damn resisting. 

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Something about Nothing

May 2, 2024

Jerry Seinfeld did an entire show about nothing and it was a great success.  Since it is one of my favorite sitcoms, I thought I would give it a try and write about nothing.  

Is life made up of a whole bunch of nothing moments? We can think of nothing moments as nothing but I think, instead, that they are something!  

Why did we all find it so funny watching the Seinfeld crew waiting for a table at a Chinese restaurant? Or when they couldn’t find their car in the parking garage?

Because we can all relate.  Lover and I once lost our car at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville.  We walked around for at least 20 minutes with perspiration dripping from our faces, going from lot to lot, clicking the car keys with the hope that one of the grey Honda CRVs would light up. We kept at it, wandering around in circles, and at one point a kind lady pulled up and offered to drive us around. Embarrassed, we politely declined and continued on our search until we finally found the right car.  

These nothing moments may not be among the most amazing moments in a life; the thrill of going on an African safari or the exhilaration of a first skydive. But these everyday, ordinary moments have a way of staying with you. Author and researcher Brene Brown wrote, “In many instances, we equate ordinary with boring  . . . ordinary has become synonymous with meaningless.”  But she also found that the memories that most people held most sacred were the ordinary, everyday moments.

Here are a few sacred moments from my life.

When my friend Lori and I shared a ski house back in the early 90s, we had a fireplace, one that could easily have been a substitute for a sauna. The heat made us both a bit woozy. After waking up from a heat-induced nap I blurted out “Hey, Lori did you know there are multiple ways of spelling ‘Helen?’”.  Thirty years have passed and we both still belly laugh about this moment.  And by the way, there is only one way to spell “H-e-l-e-n.”

One Sunday, at a church service, during one of those grim weeks after September 11th, my friend Bridget and I found it impossible to hold back our giggles when we both realized that Marla Maples was in the pew directly in front of us and that even she had noticeable underwear lines.  This was like the time that Elaine left the PEZ dispenser on the chair during a piano recital.  It wasn’t the time or place for a belly laugh, but the distraction was welcomed.  

And then there was the time that Michelle, Marybeth and I were trying to launch one of those paper Sky Lanterns.  I’m not sure what we were thinking trying to ignite a match with the wind making so much noise that we could barely hear each other as we yelled out “hold this part down,” “no, hold this part down.” But we were determined. We continued to yell “block this side and then strike the match” and after many failed attempts, we finally got a flame.  As the little lantern brushed the sand we exclaimed with excitement as we thought it was at last a “go.” But it had other ideas, like bursting into flames.  The three of us began chasing after it running against the wind in many directions to catch it.  If only there had been a camera to capture this moment of ordinary. 

Me and my work pals have shared many nothing moments. There was the time when I mistakenly thought that LMAO meant “Leave Me Alone Now” That evening, at a work dinner, a colleague asked me, “Why did you stop answering my instant messages?”  “I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” I replied.  It was a wonder we were able to finally place our food order amid all the laughing. I am now more proficient with acronyms but now and then I still wonder when Cinco de Mayo is.

I love these nothing, ordinary moments; they are the essence of life.  If you have any nothing moments to share, please drop a line in the comments.  Perhaps I can read them over a margarita on Cinco de Mayo! 

We can’t have a month go by without a little something Italian.  There is an Italian phrase Dolce far Niente that translates to the sweetness of doing nothing.  Today, April 30th, I took the afternoon off to do nothing and came up with this little bit of something to write about. And it was sweet!

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