Friday's Child is Loving And Giving And Somebody's Soulmate!

Why, you might ask, 

does a blog that explores New York's 

disappearing landscape, family and home, 

write about cats and dogs up for adoption?

Why indeed.

 

Click here to find out.

Meanwhile, at Social Tees 

 cats and dogs, 

kittens and puppies 

are just waiting to show you 
what real love is all about

Just like one kitten did to me not so long ago.

FALLING IN LOVE WITH DINGO

A true story!!!

“We came to Social Tees looking to foster a small, fluffy dog, but instead we met Dingo! 

Super underweight at 40 lbs, Dingo had just been rescued from a hoarder’s neglect case. He had no hair on his back and had trouble walking long distance. He also had digestive issues (diarrhea) and slight bladder control trouble. 

We were hesitant at the beginning but Robert assured us that Dingo was the sweetest. It turned out that he was right! After 4 months of fostering, we couldn’t help but fall in love with Dingo’s goofy bark (think Pterodactyl), his soft eyes (always saying thank you), and his big bright bulldog smile. 

He is now a permanent member of our family and we are so proud to be his human companions. Thank you Social Tees for rescuing Dingo and for giving us the best dog we could possibly imagine.”

DO YOU WANNA FALL IN LOVE!!!???

OOPSY BEAR - a teacup beagle of 10 pounds of very gentle, loving, and playful!! Right off the bat! He's also awesome with other dogs, cats, and every person (including kids!)

GRINGO!!! Seven pounds of friendly and sweet!  Great with all people and other animals. He's 10 yrs old and we don't want him stuck in a cage!!

DRAGON!!! A hunk-a-hunk-of-burning-love!!! One year old, covered in mind blowing beautiful black swirly stripes, and the friendliest cat you could hope to meet. He's a big boy!!  THAT MEANS BIG LOVE!!!

VOLUNTEER!  FOSTER!!  ADOPT!!!!
And your life will be love-rich forever!!!

Social Tees  
325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003
socialteesnyc.org
www.facebook.com/SocialTeesAnimalRescue

Stranger In A Strange Land

It was about 3°.

The thing about growing up in New York and then not moving out is you never really learn to drive and car washes are seriously exotic.  Or at least completely unfamiliar. 

But, in America, as the Mariner pointed out, car washes were a part of life, up there with laundry and grocery shopping.

This was America.  On the list of necessary stops, appointments and errands that silently broke an already broken heart, was the car wash.

A big sign with fabulous names like THE ULTIMATE or THE V.I.P. or THE EXECUTIVE spelled out what would happen or not happen like inside vacuuming or outside polishing or just lots of water and then you were on your own.  Ben picked a lot of washing and then serious drying. 

I watched the young man standing on the edge of flying giant mops, mutant brushes and spraying water, take a hose to what I had thought was a gray car.  Windows rolled up tight we then traveled through a Disneyland ride for cars, that is if cars were alive and went on vacation.

At the end, the same young man waited.  I wondered how he stayed dry all day, always on the outskirts of such ferocious wet activity.

It was so cold that the water on the mirror froze before he could finish drying it.   He leaned in and said something.  His accent was Russian.

"It's fine. It's fine.  You did great.  Here.  This is for you."  Ben handed him more tip.

There are a lot of Russian refugees here, Ben mentioned.  That's because it's warmer than Siberia, I joked.

We continued watching the kid attempt to beat the cold before it froze all the water on a now dark blue car.

**
Related Posts:

Knock Down Seven...

Big Leaps And Little Steps In The March To Commitment

Knock Down Seven...

 

It is unspeakable at times, so sometimes it doesn't feel real, this loss, this devastating loss.   There are closets to clean out and paperwork to do and phone calls to make and condolences to accept.

How, I once asked someone, how do you go through the maelstrom?  She replied, "How?  Honest. Open.  Willing."

Now I watch him minute by minute, phone call by phone call, condolence by condolence, being honest, being open, being willing.  

And then sit, dazed and disbelieving.

And then back on his feet, errand by errand, chore by chore, push-up by push-up...

Knock down seven.  

Get up eight.  

**

Related Posts:

The obituary of Judith Joseph 

Sunday Memories: The Daughter, The Granddaughters, The Women From Her New York

Ben's Birthday

Sunday Memories: The Daughter, The Granddaughters, The Women From Her New York

One, with an eighth grade education, helped support the family during the depression, survived the brutality of poverty and then the fascism of McCarthyism, defied injustice and even when confined to a wheelchair in her later years, fought for peace, writing articles and missives with fingers crippled from arthritis.

And her children, surviving McCarthyism's terror as it destroyed their family, home and safety, endured poverty, separation, and loss, and then went on to fight injustice, demanding the Constitution include everyone.

Those two children changed the laws of their towns, cities, states... their country to represent that principle.  One became the first woman judge in her county.  The other, with her colleagues, established one of the first domestic shelter in the United States.  And those accomplishments were only drops in the bucket of their efforts and work.

Their mother's beginnings in a tenement on Henry Street, when the Lower East Side was still a sea of slums and lack, not a bastion of hip luxury, was what spurred them all on to the American Dream, a dream that wasn't just about buying an expensive car that used as much gas as it wanted, but a dream that promises us all the freedoms in the Bill of Rights, like speech, belief and due process, and the principles of liberty and justice for all.

 **
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: Cuz It's Your Birthday

Dust To Dust And Then New Cities Rose

The obituary of Judith Joseph

Friday's Child Is Loving And Giving. And That's The Facts.

Why, you might ask, 

does a blog that explores New York's 

disappearing landscape, family and home, 

write about cats and dogs up for adoption?

Why indeed. 

Click here to find out.

Meanwhile, at Social Tees 

 cats and dogs, 

kittens and puppies 

are just waiting to show you 
what real love is all about

Just like one kitten did to me not so long ago.

MEET DOUGIE!!

With those ears, he will always listen to you when you need to just share.

Dougie was just pulled from the kill shelter.  He's four years old, only 15 pounds, and a little shy at first, but very loving and playful.  

He is getting over a cold so, if you want to foster him, he should be in a home without other dogs for now.  

TWO! TWO! TWO TIMES THE LOVE!!

LOOK AT THESE SMILEY, HAPPY, LITTLE FLUFFY PAPILLONS !!!!

Lady and Macho, recently surrendered to a kill shelter when their owner couldn't care for them, are sister and brother and absolutely adore each other.  So they need to go to a home together.  

What YOU get in return is twice the love, affection, and soft, silky fur to pet!  These Papillon mixes are about 4 years old and ssssoooooooo friendly. They are great with other dogs, cats, and every person they meet. When you open the door, they scamper over to you gleefully and wriggle around at your feet waiting for kisses and chin scratches. 

Macho is about 12 pounds, and Lady is a dainty 8 or 9 pounds. They cuddle and sleep together and want to snuggle up with you! Interested in adopting? Submit an application at socialteesnyc.org.

VOLUNTEER!  FOSTER!!  ADOPT!!!!
And your life will be love-rich forever!!!




Social Tees  
325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003
socialteesnyc.org
www.facebook.com/SocialTeesAnimalRescue

Desperately Seeking Her New York - An Encore

Originally posted August 6, 2009, this moment began haunting me yesterday.

Where was Her New York, a city that once grew art and families, and now grew only glass luxury? Was this place becoming as obsolete as real books and a paper newspaper? Or, in crack and corners, was there a defiance still thriving, a refusal to disappear? 

I'm willing to let things die.  I am just not willing to allow murder.  

Her New York still lives here.

For a second I thought parts of Florence had come back to life. Same sneakers, cheekbones and that skinny body bursting with life, but in jeans and a bandana.

She was staring at all the reading glasses. Only the pharmacist saw me hiding behind a corner and quietly snapping pictures. He didn't to say anything, even though he had that uncomfortable look of "that's not allowed here I wish I were a manager and could say so." It's possible he thought we were related, both of us dressed like one another and different from everyone else in the store.

Finally, she stomped just like Florence over to the counter and told him she needed glasses but couldn't figure out which one was which and how did she know which one was which and which one would be the one she could read with and although he was swamped and the only one at the counter he came out and tried to explain to her which was which and what was what.

"I can't read my newspaper!" she exclaimed, as he pointed here and there. You just knew it was the New York Times she was talking about.

Perhaps it was all the times strangers stopped for Florence or perhaps it was all the times I wish I had, but I found myself standing at the rack handing her different strengths and styles and explaining and commenting, and sure enough she picked the pair with the least bells and whistles and the one most fitting for someone with a soul like a razor and a face that defied the contradiction of age and beauty.

**

Related Posts:

Anything on Jeremiah's Vanishing New York a.k.a. The Book of Lamentations: a bitterly nostalgic look at a city in the process of going extinct

"How Fragile We Are How Fragile We Are"

I didn't realize something was wrong because NOBODY had stopped.  And I didn't have my glasses on so for a second I thought she was petting her little black dog.

But the woman next to me said, "They just walked by her!" And we both rushed over to her and that little black dog was her purse she was clutching and she was trying to stand but she was crying because it hurt too much and I remembered at least one important word from my bad long-ago Spanish and I told her to sit back down.  The woman next to me called 911 and just then a young woman wearing scrubs stopped.

I said, "Are you from Beth Israel?"

She said, "No, NYU." And she knelt down, speaking almost perfect Spanish, while the woman next to me was telling the police operator, "No, not me. This woman fell down... "

And the three of us stayed with her, me waving down the ambulance coming from Third Avenue, the taxis not stopping because you only wave an ambulance down like that.

And after the doctor told the EMT guys what had happened in the proper medical words, we waited until she was on the gurney before we said in English and then in Spanish, "Que se mejor a pronto."

We are all so fragile and in Her New York, we stop.

**
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: Neither Rain, Nor Sleet, Nor Gloom of Night...Until Suddenly...

Sunday Memories' Of Days Like This That Didn't Include Food Poisoning

Valentine's Day, a truly perfect day this year, ended in digestive misery.  One, then, can only dwell on better times.

Originally posted February 14, 2013.

photo by E. Lohninger

"One day at a time" is way too long.  I'm only capable of handling 20 minutes at any given moment and that's on a good day.

It is hard to carve and coax love out of one's failed past, broken-hearted role models, and Fred and Ginger movies.  Even An American In Paris offered only fantasy as a road map. (yeah show me a broke artist who picks the poor girl over the heiress....)

But, like time passing or a kid getting taller, its presence, during many twelve hour walks through the city, unfolded imperceptibly until one morning a note sent to a friend recounting the previous twenty-four hours was filled with words like "laughing" and "fun" and "good" and other similar happy descriptions.  There were no recognizable words like "struggle" or "fight" or "confused" or "frustration" or "despair" or "futile" or....

If I hadn't written that note, I would have never known how I had laughed all night (which is just like dancing all night only you get to sit down).   I would have never notice what once was foreign in my life was suddenly present.  I would have never have noticed my life was becoming different from what I had known for so long.

So, imagine my surprise 780,000 minutes later (which is approximately 39,000 20 minute segments) that what once was different now seemed normal. 

Happy Valentine's Day to the Mariner.

**
Related Posts:

In Case Of Emergency

The Untitled Store

Sunday Memories Encore: A Table of Thanks

Tales From A Hard Day's Night: Mieux La Chance, Que L'Address (Better Luck Than Skill)

In Honor Of Love That Blooms In Autumn

Winter Encore: Sunday Memories: A Winter Coat

Friday's Child Is Loving And Giving And The Ewok Valentine You Always Dreamed Of

Why, you might ask, does a blog that explores New York's disappearing landscape, family and home, write about cats and dogs up for adoption?

Why indeed.  

Click here to find out.

Meanwhile, at Social Tees 

 cats and dogs, 

kittens and puppies 

are just waiting to show you 
what real love is all about

Just like one kitten did to me not so long ago.

ANOTHER EWOK NEEDS AN EARTH HOME

WINNIE GETS READY FOR THE SNOW! THE SLUSH!  THE RAIN!
THE SLUSH!

Winnie, a stray, was found in Queens in pretty bad shape -- she only has one working eye, a swollen mammary gland, and her fur was a mess. She was so stressed out at the kill shelter that Social Tees didn't know what to expect when they rescued her. 

The minute she got to Social Tees... WOW! She started prancing around the floor, begging the other dogs to play by popping up and down, and rolling around on her back squirming for belly rubs. 

Winnie has enough spirit for all of us! She is a happy, cuddly little girl who loves giving and receiving affection. Plus, she looks like a little stuffed animal! She's is about 7 to 9 years old and 15 pounds.  

Best of all, she gets along great with other dogs, cats, and everyone she meets. Her health issues are on the mend. If you're interested in adopting, complete an application at socialteesnyc.org. Got questions? Email samantha@socialteesnyc.org. 

GOT CAT?

Oreo is as cute as they come and as sweet as... an Oreo.  He's super friendly and loves to chill out on your shoulder.

Come meet him and all the other kittens and cats up for adoption!

Get involved, volunteer, foster!  Adopt!!!!

Social Tees  
325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003
socialteesnyc.org
www.facebook.com/SocialTeesAnimalRescue

Enore: Times Square On Valentine's Day

An encore of the day of love originally posted on February 10, 2010 when capturing smoke at that time was more likely to happen than finding love.


Everyone was snapping pictures.











Trying, like me, to capture smoke in their hands.

**
Related Posts:

Days Like This

Another Night Home On The Range

 

After all my savings disappearing into Jupiter's emergency hospital stay, I wouldn't let him out of the house and into the hall.  Who knows how he got that infection that almost killed him, but I didn't have another $5000 to find out.

That did not make him happy.  Back on his feet, weight regained (and then some), he would sit at the door waiting. Patiently.  Looking at me with expectation that at some point his stare would command me to do his wishes.

It worked. Oh, of course I told myself it was so he'd get more exercise and lose a little of the extra weight he had put on from us feeding him frantically after he came home from the animal hospital.  Just a few trots around the stairwell with me right behind making sure no germs got him.

But, what he really wanted was to go visit Pat again.  And one night... tonight... I turned my back for a second or three and Pat opened her door and Jupiter scampered in and Pat rang my bell and I went to find him and before any of us knew it we were all watching the big white fluffy poodle win best in the non-sporting group.

 **
Related Posts

Home Home Home On The Range

'Twas The Day Right On Christmas...

Sunday Memories' Encore: Days Of Frostbite

Sunday In The Hall With Cat Boy

Sunday Memories: All Together Again In Jutta's Kitchen

This is Jutta. 

An artist who has never stopped painting.  Not after being hit by a car.  Not by blindness creeping in.  Not by a fixed income. Not by being housebound. 

This is her son, my friend since I was thirteen.  

A violinist.  A builder of computers.  A renter in a building of owners who wonders why his neighbors don't hold each others' mail when it piles up.  A irreverent smart-ass who still has no fear saying whatever he wants. He knows he can get away with it because it's always really, really funny.

This is the Mariner.  

A writer.  A storyteller.  A really hard worker.  A seeking soul.  An questioning mind.  A commuter who knows where the R train goes and where it doesn't go, no matter what the signs say.  An honest man. A rascal.  A lover.  A friend.  And, after effortlessly sitting down at the old table the rest of us had sat at for 42 years, a member of the family. 

 But whether it was four decades ago or this evening...

...what brought us all together before - art, music, life - brings us all together again.

The never-ending curiosity of stories told in the strokes of a pen or a paintbrush.

This is Her New York.

**
Related Posts:

Jutta's Kitchen's: Part Two

Jutta's Kitchen Stops For Nothing

Big Leaps And Little Steps In The Long March To Commitment

Friday's Child Is Loving And Giving And Just What The World Needs Now!

Why, you might ask, does a blog that explores New York's disappearing landscape, family and home, write about cats and dogs up for adoption?

Why indeed.  

Click here to find out.

Meanwhile, at Social Tees 

 cats and dogs, 

kittens and puppies 

wait breathlessly to change your life.  

Just like one kitten did mine not so long ago.

Meet  Wonder!

Wonder is a male Lab/Akita mix.  He's 4 years old and 55 pounds. And ABSURDLY well behaved with GREAT manners.  Best of all he gets along with everyone!!

Hello My Name Is...Phillippa!

Phillippa is a female tabby who is 3 months old. She's very easy going and affectionate.  A perfect Valentines'.  She and her sisters!!! are all up for adoption!!!

HAPPILY EVER AFTER HAPPENS AT SOCIAL TEES!!!!

"My husband and I had wanted a Boston Terrier for ages, but we wanted one from a shelter -- not a breeder -- which we figured we'd never be able to find.   However, we were lucky enough to adopt Betsy after she was rescued from a hoarder in Tennessee. I knew we had to meet her when we saw her picture on the Social Tees Facebook page. 

Given the situation she had been in, it was no surprise that when we got her she was in rough shape.  She had just had puppies (one of which was adopted through ST and they have had play dates with since!), been spayed, had bumps all over her skin from a terrible diet, and her ears were partially eaten away by fleas. She was also really scared. To be honest, I was a little worried about whether it was the right fit when we first met. 

Within an hour of having her home though, I understood what Dimitra had said about finding 'your dog.' After a warm bath she started to relax, and it was clear to us both what a wonderful dog she is. She is so sweet, loving, and happy. She is funny, feisty, and world class cuddler. I truly couldn't imagine our lives without her, and we are forever grateful to Social Tees for saving her!"

Get involved, volunteer, foster!  Adopt!!!

Social Tees  
325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003
socialteesnyc.org
www.facebook.com/SocialTeesAnimalRescue

Guest Artist Ben Kushner: ...But You Can't Take The Moxy Out Of The Bronx Girl

Before it was "Fame" and before it became LaGuardia, Ben and I went to Performing Arts High School together.  His mom, Eleanor, now 91, was born at 2083 Clinton Avenue in the Bronx (near Morris Heights).  He shares his journey with Eleanor in Her New York.

The ensuing conversation after urging Eleanor to "behave so that the staff will be nice to you”.

Mom: Have I been good?

Ben: Well, you know what Mae West used to say.

Mom: Come up and see me some time.

Ben: Well, yes, she said that too.  But she also said “When I’m good I’m really good.  But when I’m bad, I’m even better”.  And do you know who she said that to in the movies?  Cary Grant.

Mom: I’d like to say that to Cary Grant.

**
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories Of Guest Artist, Ben Kushner: Dementia's Ah-Ha Moments

Rock. Hard Place.

Walking again has been a thrill.

I told a friend how lucky I was to be alive in a time where, after a forty-minute surgery that fixed me right up, I got to go home.  If I had been born a century ago, I would have been lame for the rest of my life.

But, he said, if you had been born a century ago, you would have been born into Her New York, a city that welcomed everyone to the table, not just those who could afford insane rents for renovated tenements.

It made me think of this walk-up down the street.  The Florence.

Home to the Stage Restaurant, and just recently sold for millions to some kids eager to cash in and be part of the so-called East Village mystique which is now only a memory.

Would I want to limp through a neighborhood that accepted me, or did I want to stride through a city that has erased so much of what once made New York Her New York?

**
Related Posts:

Not Just Any Old Port In Any Old Calm Before Any Old Storm

Sunday Memories: Last Call

Sunday Memories:  It Was Her New York And For A Brief Moment It Was Ours Too

What I Stared At While Wondering...

Sunnyside Up

An Attempt To Do It Before They Do

In Memoriam As The New Year Begins: In Lieu Of Flowers

Sunday Memories: Interior Design

To me, this piece of linoleum was the height of beauty and sophistication. 

Laid on the bottom of Florence's closet, peeking through some shoe boxes and other miscellaneous items, like her secret box of tampons.  There may have been art on the walls and a Steinway in the living room, but furniture and floors were more catch as catch can.  A hand-me-down, a second hand find, something cheap from Coney.

This piece of floor defied all that, insisting on being a brush stroke of aesthetic taste, like joy and hope, only briefly seen behind closed doors.


**
Related Posts:

Little Bea and the Welbilt

New Home Edition!

Sunday Memories: You Say You Want A Revolution

Sunday Memories:  Florence As A Memory

Sunday Memories: Steinway To Heaven

Sunday Memories: The Painting