Friday's Child Is Loving And GivingAnd Was On TV!!!!

Social Tees and other rescue 
organizations and people 

were celebrated tonight on

CAUSE FOR PAWS!

OK so the show only had dogs on it.  That's because there's no way you could get cats to cooperate.

Still, no matter if it is a cat.... (Goldie, rescued a year and a half ago from Social Tees)

... or a bigger cat.... (Jupiter, rescued from Queens Boulevard four years ago and who went on to keep my heart alive)

... or a cat who pays the bills... 

(Ada, rescued five years ago from Social Tees by Jillian- she was brand new to the shelter, dirty, stinky, and mean. Named Ada (after the mathematician Ada Lovelace) because of her mathematically complex hiding places. These days, she sleeps next to Jillian's mom, dances for ham, is a fan of Doctor Who, had a NYFringe play written about her)...

... Or Lotus who is doing amazingly well!!!  (in a loving warm foster home!!!)

Thanks is given to the hard working people who go out and rescue and find homes and work tirelessly for a better world.

SOCIAL TEES IN THE EAST VILLAGE!!!

Come Volunteer!!!

Come Visit!!!!

 Come On In!!!!!

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

Encore for Thanksgiving: HAND-TO-HAND-COMBAT! LIFE OR DEATH DECISIONS! SLOW CAR CHASES! IT'S THANKSGIVING, THE MOVIE!!

Originally Posted November 26, 2009


This really happened.

It was right before Thanksgiving and like a billion other people, my friend ordered dessert from Veniero's on 11th Street to bring to the family gathering in Pound Ridge. It was probably pumpkin pie, or pastiero di grano or maybe even a cheesecake with little cannolis on top.

This woman is very attractive and she is over 30. Maybe even over 40 but her seamless attractiveness is elegant and well appointed. Oprah's makeover couldn't improve on her classic outfits, highlighted with tasteful touches of contemporary accessories.

So... as she waited on the long line she grew a bit tired. Noticing a bunch of round tables stacked along the wall, she sidled up to one and gently, as only elegance and class could, sat down.

The woman behind her, generously described as perhaps not very attractive and very unhappy about not being attractive, snapped I'M IN THE FOOD INDUSTRY AND YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE SITTING ON A TABLE. My friend politely pointed out that these were tables being stored, not being used for service. At that point the counter guy called "Next." Which was my friend.

YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE A NUMBER yelled the Unhappy Woman. My friend pointed out that not only did she have a number, she had the one they were calling and off she went to pick up the family dessert. Turning to leave she came face to face with the Unhappy Woman who then... punched her.

"Why'd you do that?" the counterman asked.

My friend quickly left and joined her husband in their car. As she began to tell him what just happened, the Unhappy Woman ran out of Veniero's and began yelling at the car. Windows rolled up and doors locked, her husband began to drive away. My friend pleaded for her husband to go slow because all they needed was for him to run over the foot of the Unhappy Woman as she followed the car down 11th Street yelling things at them.

That Thanksgiving Dinner the dessert was brought out to many ooos and ahhs.

"We almost died for this cake," the husband said.

A brief discussion ensued. Did the Unhappy Woman attack my friend because she was Asian? Did she attack my friend because she was Asian AND pretty? Or was this Unhappy Woman just basically nuts?

Nothing was decided. So they ate the cake.

...One Story At A Time

The United Nations is all orange, campaigning to stop violence against women.  Those lights are trying to paint a more beautiful world where if you have a vagina you'd be safe.

Writing this, live coverage of Ferguson show the police crouching behind riot gear and while the President of the United States quotes Michael Brown's father asking his son's death not be in vain but bring change, the Channel 11 WPIX reporter at the scene gets tear gassed.

It's also Florence's birthday.

I think of all the untold stories and unspoken words about all the blows she took, the acts on her body she did not agree to.

Her stories and all those Michael Brown could have told become lost, become ghosts.

Suddenly the TV shows young men kneeling in the street, hands in the air with an American flag, defying the order to vacate the area.

And suddenly those ghosts start speaking back. 

**
Related Posts:

UNite To End Violence Against Women

A Special Encore of Sunday Memories: I Hear It Was Her Birthday

Sunday Memories: Mathhew 26:52

Use Your F*#&$*g Words

Sunday Memories: The Expansion Of Family Burgers

Adrian and Alon come to burger-visit

For years, we - Adrian and I - wove burgers in and out of our travels as we headed to love and art and other places in our hearts. 

Brooklyn with the mac&cheese side we liked better than the burger, Avenue C with everything on it, St. Marks Place traditional, fried onions for me, cheese for him, bacon for both of us, Buenos Aires but there it was called steak, London too many to recount but each one noted in full detail, 13th Street small and spectacular, Cape Cod during a break from fried fish, at a french restaurant in Tel Aviv, tonight on 14th Street. 

Eating them and pondering their place in our exploration, even while lovers left, partners stayed, marriage happened, unions were made, families got bigger... perhaps it was the burger that got us to go places we never thought we would.

**
Related Posts:

The Eyes Have It

Metamorphosis:Après Le Déluge,Avant Le Déluge

The cupboard, painted, fixed, shelved.....

There is no history in it and there's no storytelling coming out of it. 

It suddenly looks like the homes all the expensive magazines tout, insisting real people really do live there, and all the clothes match in neat, small piles.

But, real life isn't small, monochromatic or neat.  It's overflowing, messy and filled with color.  It gets stuffed into corners and falls on the floor.  It clashes and sticks out and everything seems to be arguing with everything else.

Still, for just a brief moment, ignoring all the stuff piled all over the place, waiting patiently to be put away, the fantasy of a life this still entices.  Sorta like interior design porn.

 **
Related Posts:

Metamorphosis: Skeletons In Closet

When One Door Closes And You're Headed Towards The Other Door Opening...

Emptying Into Open

Rainy Day and Monday Encore: "You Say You Want A Revolution..."

Rainy days and Mondays lend themselves to glancing back at other times.  Although not necessarily better.  Or worse.  Just a reminder of the original home

Originally posted July 5, 2009

Monty's Mom asked what everyone in the courtchyard asked. "What are you doing with your mother's apartment?"

(actually it was more like "whatcha gonna do wit ya motha's apartment?" note: the "t" is silent)

I gave the usual answer about renting and the piano.

"You still play?"

No. I had put my foot down at 13 and refused to play anymore. If I was going to be forced to study music, go to music school and attend the music department at the School for the Performing Arts for violin, I wasn't also going to study the piano. In a rare nod to my individualization, Florence agreed.

I never liked it, I told Monty's Mom.

"Well," she said, "You were a rebellious one."

I was? I had played with Monty when we were little little but like most of the neighbors in the courtchyard it never really felt like anyone knew me, just of me as I ran past in a game of tag.

"Oh yeah. You were power to the people. I mean it was the 60's. But yeah, you were. You were little, too. Yeah. Power to the people."

Sunday Memories: When Late Comes Early

When the sky gets darker, the lights brighter and the streets come alive, Childhood reappears in the middle of middle-age.

The delight of staying up late, the excitement of holidays coming even if we didn't celebrate them, the flurry of promises made between pedestrians and cars...

**
Related Posts:

The Sign Of Things To Come

Lights Of Autumn

Sunday Memories Of Light And Night

Miracle On Grand Street

Friday's Child Is Loving And GivingAnd Happy And Healthy!

GOLDIE UPDATE!

(RESCUED BY SOCIAL TEES 
AND ADOPTED BY HER NEW YORK)

Goldie, no longer a painfully skinny girl, runs the show at home.  

And when she needs a nap, she curls up in curtains by a good poem and rests...

LOTUS IS SO HEALTHY 

SHE IS READY TO GO HOME!!!!

YOUR HOME!!!

Lotus, the super cute munchkin, and FORMER-abused dog is well on her way to total recovery. Needs a loving, fun, warm foster home with someone who can send Social Tees lots of great photos so it can continue sharing her story at Facebook.com/SavingLotus. 

She's 5 years old, 15 lbs, and wee pad trained and housebroken.  Loves going for walks and playing, great with other animals, very food driven, needs daily meds and to gain weight. 

Email samantha@socialteesnyc.org if you can foster her!!

AND DAISY IS DANDY!

Daisy, the diabetic Shih Tzu mix that was stuck in a cage at Social Tees' vet for months and recently FINALLY found an amazing foster home where she could be a dog again?    She's still doing awesome... but STILL NEEDS A FOREVER HOME!!!!   Her foster mom says: "Nothing excites Daisy more than going for a walk or meal time. She jumps and dances, she talks and practically sings.  When she's tired she either curls up next to you on the couch (she's a great snuggle buddy) or puts herself to sleep by sprawling in the middle of your bed by herself, ha!   She's a sweet girl who just wants to be loved with a spunky little attitude who loves to have a little playtime each day. She's great about getting her shots at mealtime, so it's not a big deal at all. Daisy is a wonderful, sweet girl who deserves a home with as big if a heart as she has!!"

CAN'T FOSTER OR ADOPT??  HOW ABOUT A PARTY!!!

    ** Related Posts:    GOLDIE'S STORY 

LOTUS' STORY

DAISY'S STORY

Son Of New Camera, Old City

Metamorphosis: Skeletons In The Closet

It was like this in 1976, only without the nice fancy wooden pole that let it pretend it was a real cupboard.  A beat-up broken one, badly painted white was there instead. 

It was into this cupboard I'd crawl, when, all the age of 17 or 18, I got struck by words or deeds too big to stand up to.   I'd pull the doors shut after me and only then, in a darkness made by roommate's clothes could I weep in fury or heart-break.

Life got bigger, badder, better.  The stuff inside the cupboard became a mirror of the changing world inside the apartment:

• a roommate's wardrobe
• another roommate's wardrobe
• yet another roommate's wardrobe
• the winter coats of a long-time partner
• the boxes, containers, files of my own efforts in the world
• the wardrobe of a new partner
• my own wardrobe after throwing out all the clothes of that no-longer-new partner (well, he told me to)

And as things came and went (really, he told me to throw everything out), odd flotsam and jetsam got left behind, becoming a graveyard of the mundane and the marvelous:

• the dozens of reel-to-reel audio tapes documenting my father's youth, Florence's talent, my sister and my playing our piano pieces with Florence drilling us to recite the piece's name and composer as we practiced performing before whirling tape
• the reel-to-reel player
• the ice machine and the ice compressor heralding in a new age of old knees and middle-age ailments
• the bags of wrapping paper and bows and boxes from just received gifts that could be used for presents because you know you never should buy any of that stuff new
• hats marking different commercial or travel or sports moments that would be forgotten if any hat got thrown out
• a box of jewelry no longer worn but standing as a monument of family fissions and vengeful acts
• a really bad painting of a naked woman in the ocean that was so bad it couldn't even be hung in a bar over the cash register (I was only 13)
• my beloved old wooden toys I used to decorate little homes for my dollies, wishing I could live in with them

 That collage of old skeletons, stuffed precariously into cracks and peeling paint, stayed that way...

...until almost forty years later, flushed with a little bit of money and magazines and catalogs touting how closets could become meccas of  easy-to-use serenity, a new partner's teeshirts and hats marking different commercial or travel or sports events needed a place to go. 

There are no more reasons left to crawl into dark corners.  Very little strikes that hard any more.  Emptied of the past, that old cupboard will soon be filled with a much nicer life.

**
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: On The Road

Beauty In The Eye Of...

Sunday Memories: The Difference

Sunday Memories:Friending,Old School Style

We hung out in pizza parlors, rarely sitting since there often weren't chairs and tables, but it didn't matter.  We were too busy talking, laughing, joking and eating a second slice to even notice.
**
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: Our Facebook

A Labor Of Love

Friday's Child Is Loving And GivingAnd A Bear Of A Babe

MAGGIE THE BABY BEAR!!!

Also known as Maggie the adorable, loveable, delicious, cuddly CHOW!  

Maggie is about 3 years old, 35 lbs, and a major love bug. She adores being held and she she loves cuddling. She's friendly with everyone, very mellow, and housebroken. Interested in adopting this not-bear?

Complete an application at socialteesnyc.org! — with Lauren E. O'Connor.

and Maggie isn't the only one:

Puppies, doggies, 

and your new best friend

Why does Her New York
care about animal rescue?

BECAUSE and BECAUSE....

JOIN THE LOVE!!!!!
ADOPT!!
FOSTER!!!!
SUPPORT!!!

SOCIAL TEES IN THE EAST VILLAGE!!!

Come Volunteer!!! 

Come Visit!!!!

 Come On In!!!!!

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

New Camera, Old City

This Ain't Your 1970's 14th Street

It used to be if you stood too long in one spot, a neon sign started flashing above your head, going "Mug Me! Mug Me!"

But now, you can hang out and have dinner with your best friend and all you get is fed.  And maybe fat.

**
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: Our Facebook

Sunday Memories: Food On The Run

Sunday Memories: Fast Food In Fast Times

Sunday Memories: When The CityWas A Black And White Photograph

The thing is the first photographs or movies we saw of our city were in black and white.

It was Florence's WeeGee on the wall, the pictures on the front page of the New York Times...

... the rare glimpses of television shows...

But it wasn't just those images that made the city a thousand shades of gray. 

It was the seeping loneliness whether inside a thought or home....

....or wandering empty streets in deep night....

....even when photographs became colorful, along with more frequent television viewing.....

....the city still only looked like itself in that starkness.

**
Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie

Sunday Memories:  In The Still, Night Travels

Sunday Memories:  Television, Old School

Friday's Child Is Loving And GivingAnd Waiting For You!

SUCCESS STORY

A PRINCE AMONG PRINCES!!!

This gorgeous spotted man was adopted earlier this year as a fuzzy little puppy -- my, how he's grown!

Social Tees just got this sweet email from his dad:

"Just wanted to give you a little update on my border collie Prince I adopted from you. I am so pleased to say that you guys have given me my best friend.

This dog is completely awesome. His personality is very sweet and friendly.  He plays great with other dogs and I keep him very social. He is a genius (sometimes smarter than me I think) so training is a breeze for him and he is always eager to play ball or with a disk. Sometimes he can be a pain but thats a border collie puppy for ya."

WAIT!!! NO!!!! IT CAN'T BE!!!!

BUT IT IS!!! IT'S LOTUS!!!!

A couple of weeks ago Lotus was rescued, a special Facebook page was set up to help her and other horrifically abused animals, and Friday's Child highlighted her.  She has barely any fur and gaping wounds all over her.

Look at her now.

Social Tees says: 

That's right, our girl Lotus! She was kind enough to give us a nice brisk stroll in this lovely warm October weather. Lotus was so jazzed to get out of her kennel for a while, she skipped down the street with the most adorable little strut. 

This girl's booty is happy! She walks super well on a leash and stops all over the place to soak up all of the smells the East Village has to offer... just like a normal dog. 

Her skin is still a bit crusty and sour smelling, and she's got some weight to gain, but her fur is starting to come in nicely. We walked along, shared some pizza crust, stopped here and there for petting sessions, and we can't wait to see her again tomorrow. Her pushed in little face and curled up tail are so irresistible!

PS -- THANK YOU to all of you wonderful supporters who have donated money toward her vet care and material donations via our Amazon wish list. We left her with some chew sticks today and boy was she thrilled. More pics to come!!!

SOCIAL TEES IN THE EAST VILLAGE!!!

Come Volunteer!!!

Come Visit!!!!

 Come On In!!!!!

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

When It Comes To The World Series, Plus ça Change, Plus C'est La Même Chose

We'd walk from newstand to bar to candy store to building lobbies to hardware store window with all the TVs on the same station, everybody's radio blasting the game, people crowding around....

The whole city became one big stadium.  

But then private TVs the size of a small island and the internet built a world filled with selfies and streets and restaurants filled with people whose idea of eye contact involved staring at a tiny screen.

Except...

When October comes and suddenly walking from candy store to bodega to bar to... crowds gather and the score is shared shouted over the din of the standing-room only crowd and texted into phones by caring friends who, still at work, watch the game over illegal streaming or listen through one of the last transistor radios being made.

Beneath Her Surface

The chance to peek below couldn't be missed.

Is that rope a safety rope for the guy down there, I ask the FIOS guys?

Nah. We don't like him that much.

The yellow tube, however, was blowing enough oxygen while they took turns looking for tree-trunks of cooper wrapped in melted lead.

They're getting rid of all the copper wires, the guys says.

15,000 telephone wires, 15,000 telephone calls, 15,000... all those phones calls, seventy years of phone calls.



I'm not giving up my copper wire, I tell them.

Me neither, says one of them.

Another trunk gets hauled up, all three guys hauling it up together.

It's so beautiful, I tell them.  Can I take another picture?

Sure.  Nobody is ever interested.  Usually, they just come over to complain to us their phone isn't working.

Cowboys or Redskins, one of them shouts to the other.

Royals, I tell the guy standing over the open pothole.

Probably Giants, he says.