A My Private Coney project Flash non-fiction, brief moments and old memories of a city and mother's emotional and physical real estate disappearing at the speed of heartbreak.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
In Lieu of Flowers...
Tell the truth.
Tell yourself the truth.
Don't let your bullshit compromise either of the above.
Don't lie. Unless you're drunk. Then really don't lie.
Look fabulous in your own clothes. They may have started out as hand-me-downs but they're yours now. Proudly recount their lineage. Never feel ashamed about that.
Never take a taxi.
Don't wear a coat in winter.
Carry your own weight to the point of pathology. Better to err on independence than not.
Refuse to lose at the hands of cowardliness, mediocrity, stupidity, and the need to blend in.
Suffer aloneness at the risk of fitting in with any of the above.
Refuse to feel fear. If you do, ignore it and keep going. Just like Florence did that night during a World War II blackout under the Manhattan Bridge by the movie theater (now a Chinese market).
Always put your work first. Always do your work. Always put your work first. Always do your work.
Rage against the Machine. Even when it looks like it's related to you.
Risk being laughed at by morons when you do something no one else is doing. Just like when Florence put on those roller skates in 1972 and skated up and down Grand Street and all those people laughed at her and then a couple of years every one had disco skates.
Start your entire life over at 60 like you were a 14 year old. Because on some level, you still are.
Fight back just like Florence did all the times someone mugged her or tried to mug her during the 1970's.
Don't EVER quit.
Know that that beer, that sandwich, those shoes, that jacket, those pants, that avenue, that movie house, that proper grammar, that street, that bar, that woman, that dance, that etude, that sonata, that scale, that subway, that bus, that hotdog, that boardwalk, that beach, that ocean is Your New York.
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.