Pfunksfoolosophy

I took the day off yesterday (from writing) and did a bit of thinking about life and what’s important to me and relevant to my personal development. This war is making me nuts, the situation in Darfur saddens me to no end, and we’ve still got many, many Americans living below the poverty line. (I am one of them) What to do?
Well, I’ve adopted a soldier and plan to write to him/her once a week. Yep, I’m going to bore some poor sap to tears. My way of saying thanks for putting yourself in harm’s way. Thank you for participating in a war that makes no sense. Mind you, war as a rule doesn’t make sense, but you catch my drift. Oil. Money. Hmm.

I don’t want my blog to end up being a political rant. Any jerk can point out the problem; it takes a real genius to come up with reasonable answers. Guess what? I’m just any jerk.

My only solution is to attempt to help by adopting a soldier  and divesting. It’s not such a sacrifice. As you can tell, I like to write. I’m usually broke, so boycotting Coca Cola or Fidelity Investments will NOT be a hardship.

I do suggest that you take a look at miafarrow.org if you’re truly interested in helping with regard to Darfur. I’d love to be able to fix everything with my good wishes, but it isn’t enough. What if we could all put our egos aside and not have to be right to make others wrong? What if we could feed every hungry child and shelter every homeless family?
What if all of our talk meant something tangible?
There are plenty of people out there who don’t want to have an actor tell them about Darfur or Hurricane Katrina or politics–look, I’d like to pimp slap Alec Baldwin myself, but I had to really think about it: these actors are US citizens first. They’re allowed to voice their opinions just as much as I am…maybe I should get off their backs and get on the ball.

Hm. NOW I’ve gone and done it…I’ve started thinking, again. Trust me, it won’t last.

As you know, I’ve been freelancing and trying to generate more money as I am ‘underemployed’–that’s just a sweet way of saying ‘broke’.  I received an email from a collaborator friend of mine who runs a studio in the city and he offered me an opportunity. I’m stoked because if all goes well, I’ll be exposed to industry insiders who will be swept away by my charm and talent…Yes, I know…but I can dare to dream.

You never know where your blessing is going to come from, do you? I think it goes back to cultivating friendships, checking in every now and again and really being present in the lives of your loved ones. Keep your fingers crossed.

Like in ‘A Chorus Line’: I hope I get it.

Oh, I’m on a roll.

Movies…old movies…oh, man…I got to watch ‘Ball of Fire’ with Barbara Stanwyck and Gary Cooper the other night. I absolutely love that film. Richard Hadyn, the character actor is wonderful…He is probably best known as ‘Uncle Max’ in ‘The Sound of Music’…hey, that’s another one.

The Sound of Music was my favorite movie from childhood and I have to confide something here: whenever I’m feeling less than sure about my life or my choices or when I’m faced with a challenge, I sing ‘I have confidence’ to myself. Yeah, I know…that’s kinda wacky. I never said I wasn’t a little off. Somehow, that song does it for me. That, and the theme for ‘Gidget’. Gets me in the right frame of mind.

When I was younger and my sister was still alive, before I would go onstage, she would sing that theme song for me. Understand that my sister couldn’t carry a tune in a paper bag. It was sweet and it was funny. It used to hurt to think about her.

It’s been over 20 years since she died and it feels like yesterday. Funny, this post was supposed to be about things that make me happy. I suppose it is because I’m smiling as I type this.

My sister and I had some tough years together. She was 7 years older so we didn’t play together. My parents gave her the task of naming me; if I had been born a boy, my brother would have had the honor. She gave me a biblical name with the same first and last initial as hers. I remember her reading to me and giving me baths. At the time, you don’t realize that those moments are little tokens, little gems of love and compassion. I used to be such an unruly, noncompliant kid but she was patient most of the time. Once, when I was around 4 or 5, she decided to indoctrinate me into the junior Black Panthers. It was the height of the civil rights movement and my sister was an activist at an early age.

Her: What are you?

Me: I’m an Afro-American!

Her: What do you want?

Me: I want my freedom!

Her: When do you want it?

Me(after a loooong pause): Umm….I don’t know…

Her: NOW! YOU WANT YOUR FREEDOM NOW!

Me: Okay.

You see, I had no real concept of time at that age and didn’t understand the urgency. I felt relatively free as I was able to ride my bike, have ice cream if I had eaten my dinner and if I made a particularly convincing case, I could watch “Mission: Impossible” which came on well past my bedtime. Our neighborhood was integrated, so I didn’t see how the freedom timeline would impact my life. Usually, she would give up and tell me to go play my Disney records. But she would smile at me and give me a hug.

I knew that I was frustrating her, but she was my sister and I was younger–that was my job.

Later, when she had my niece and nephew  I understood just how much she loved me and I returned that love as best I could. We had a lot of laughs while playing Rummy 500 and eating her famous crispy fried potatoes. The kids would be asleep, the house quiet and we would talk long into the night until both of us would shuffle to bed, quietly chuckling about some inside joke we’d just created.

Thinking about her makes me happy. Even though I’m crying.

I was taking one of my power walks today and I found myself grinning, letting the sun bake my smile and the wind run through my hair. The realization that it takes very little to make me happy even made me happy. Normally, I am not a fan of the sun. I believe that I am part vampire. The cute, hot sexy vampire not the ugly, skin peeling, zombie-like vampire…just want to be clear.  Perfect weather isn’t so rare, but after our ‘return to winter’ a couple weeks  ago, I felt like a million bucks.

This kind of weather makes me want to go buy a big jar of bubbles and sit out in the park with nothing on my mind but the beauty of the simplicity of the act.

Blowing bubbles will always make me happy.  Flying kites, buying balloons for kids in the park, doing my one cartwheel of the season, rolling down hills, playing on the swings…all of these things make me happy. Last year I played kickball with some kids in the park for a half an hour. (that was about all I could take; I’m old)

I think people lose their sense of whimsy when they grow older. Golly, I hope that never happens to me because I’ve seen ‘grown-ups’ and they are NOT fun people.

Maturity is one thing, but forgetting what it was like to find a four leaf clover ,watching ants on an anthill, or making a whistle using  a blade of grass, is sad to me. We’re all busy and we’ve all got serious issues and challenges in our lives, but I feel that we’d be better served by feeling fortunate that we have each day to enjoy. Now, don’t think I’m Pollyanna because I’m not. It’s just that we’re all blessed that we get a chance every day we’re gifted with life. We’re given an opportunity to make and shape our lives any way we wish.

Here’s hoping I can remember that tomorrow.

It’s a good time to let you in on something: I’m a bit of a geek. My crushes tend to be on men in Physics or men who aren’t conventionally handsome.

When I was in high school I had a crush on Carl Sagan and Seiji Ozawa. Sure, I had a major crush on Paul Michael Glaser from Starsky and Hutch, but it was Carl Sagan and his ‘billions and billions’ of interesting facts about the cosmos making my heart race. As I grew older, it was Stephen Hawking, but that was an ill fated intellectual romance because he disproved my theories on time travel. We’ve since drifted apart, but he’ll always have a special place in my heart, even if he thinks my theories are faulty.

Michio Kaku became my not so secret intellectual beau after I read ‘Hyperspace’. He’s dreamy and smart. An astrophysicist with a sense of humor is my kind of catnip. I keep him in the rotation because he also teaches here in NYC. Another of my favorite men is Neil deGrasse Tyson. He’s the grooviest.  ‘Death by Black Hole and other Cosmic Quandries’ is  well written and a fun read. If you’re even remotely interested in astrophysics, you’ll read it in a flash.

Tyson was also voted one of People magazine’s most beautiful people. I’m not saying I knew that before them..I’m just sayin’…

Check out his website: http://research.amnh.org/~tyson/index.php

My friends tease me about my ‘boyfriends’ but I don’t care. If loving them is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Anyone can have a crush on Johnny Depp. It takes a woman of substance to find a physicist sexy.

(well, I wouldn’t go that far)

Sundays in my family are traditionally big food days.  Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, veggies…desserts…we love to eat. It’s very telling that one of our favorite movies is “Fatso” starring the lovely, talented and sorely missed Anne Bancroft and the very much alive Dom Deluise.

That movie revealed our family’s dirty secret. We are EATERS of the highest order. Something to celebrate? Let’s make a cake. Unhappy? Let’s get something to eat while we talk it out. Feeling tepid? How about some comfort food. Unsure of how you feel? Grab a bite. Sometimes I think it would be easier if we had alcoholics instead of foodies in the family.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s dysfunction on that front as well…but it’s not satisfying to talk about.

So, today since I was feeling like I needed to reward myself for my hard work (The hard work was getting out of my own way to write my great American novel), I decided to make myself a good savory treat. I made pernil.

Pernil is Puero Rican pork roast. It takes the lowly pork butt or shoulder  and elevates it to the sublime. Garlic, oregano, and other spices are forced into slits in the meat and as it roasts, melds with the flesh…sorry, I started drooling a little. The apartment was perfumed with the aroma of roasting meat, garlic and oregano. Even the cat was purring happily as the roast cooked.

Is it good for you? Well, since the meat is rather fatty, I would say that it’s a heart attack on a plate, but it’s soooo yummy. I made arroz con gandules and string beans to go with and I ate like it was going out of style.

I’m full and sleepy…but there’s room for ice cream. Since I now have a gym membership, I think I will break even health wise. That’s the best I can do, right?
Now for that ice cream

There are times in my life when I just don’t feel like talking. Or listening. Today is one of those times. I’m not particularly sad or upset; as a matter of fact, I feel pretty peppy…it’s just that sometimes you need silence in order to recharge your batteries.

So, I’m on radio silence for the day. If my phone rings, I’m not going to answer it.  When you have the ‘cool quiet and time to think’ that you crave, you can interact in a much healthier way when you have to be around people. Take some time for yourself.

Turn your mobile phone off, turn the ringer down on your landline and pick up a book or your journal. It might encourage your creative side. It might be the best thing you’ve done for yourself all week.

I meant to blog about this yesterday, but it slipped my mind.

A friend of mine and I were standing outside our favorite watering hole in the West Village. It was dusk, which is my favorite time of day due to the favorable lighting, and we were watching the police’s traffic unit hook up a Jeep to their tow truck. What made it particularly entertaining is that we assumed that the owner of the truck had to have been  an entitled person of means because he/she parked directly next to a fire hydrant. Either that, or they were completely ignorant about parking rules.
The owner of the Jeep parked in front of the very tony workout establishment called ‘Equinox’. Many celebrities in the area work out there. We watch them while eating potato chips or other snacks. I like to have a milkshake if I can afford it. Sometimes we toast them if they catch us gawking. It breaks up the day for us.

Anyway, as we’re making our snarky, witty commentary, who should approach from around the corner but Ethan Hawke. My friend spotted him first.
My friend: Check it out, Ethan Hawke has ice cream all over his face and he just threw the cone away.

Me(turning to look. then laughing): No way!

As Ethan approaches (I am laughing and laughing) my friend says, ‘What’s  wrong, dude? Didn’t like the cone?’

Ethan (making the blech face and wiping his face with his hands):ICK!

The man could have used a good scrubbing. I don’t think  his teeth have seen an abrasive cleanser since the Reagan administration. And the hair. Pulled back into a rat’s nest ponytail. I had never seen one before. (I am amazed. )
He was also wearing orange track pants. Neither my friend nor I enjoyed looking at them. Yep, we made sport of him. That’s our way.

Ethan took it in stride, G-d bless him. He shrugged and went on his messy way, wiping his face with his already sticky hands

You’d think that he’d wash before he goes out in public. He has kids. Lead by example, I say. I hope they don’t smell like urine. Or worse. I’m thinking of sending him a little gift basket when I get the means.

Poor kid. Hope he gets home okay.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about my relationships–specifically my relationships with other women. It’s a complicated, delicate balance for most people, but I’ve had the same best friend since we were 7 years of age. We met the summer before 2nd grade and I had just moved into town.

Kim and I have had our share of ups and downs and after this long we know when to just leave the other alone. I attribute this to the fact that we were both told, ‘It takes a friend to keep a friend’.

It’s true. What does that mean? Well, to me it means that you have to be honest. When you’re stressed out and  your best buddy calls you with a challenge or they’re stressed out also…the best thing to do is listen as much as you can. Sometimes you have to tell her, ‘I can’t listen to you right now.’ This doesn’t  mean you don’t want to listen; it means you CAN’T listen. You don’t have the tools available to be empathetic because you’re just too stressed and you’ve got to nurture yourself.

It takes a long time to get to that point with a friend, I know. Still, I think that if you care about the friend, you’ll find ways to cultivate that relationship.

It goes beyond having a love for shopping or make up or whatever else people think women are supposed  to enjoy. You need a solid foundation. Everyone isn’t going to fit.

You have to try them on for a while and see if you like the way things work. If you don’t have a common ground you’ll find out soon enough. Making friends is a snap. Just start talking and you’ll see that you get along just fine. The thing is, you’re not going to move past  that honeymoon phase if you don’t talk about the real stuff.

Your morals (Kim and I both have loose ones), your beliefs (we have a strong faith), your interests (we both have varied interests…most of them involve gawking at good looking men) , sense of humor (we’ve been at it a long time) and so many other intangibles make your friendship long lasting and interesting.

Sure, we have often sat in the same room not talking to one another for hours on end, but it’s not because we have nothing to say to one  another, it’s that we’re comfortable enough with one another that we DON’T have to speak. That’s the good stuff.

We send one another stupid cards, we talk on the phone about nothing and everything.

The last conversation we had was filled with the usual catching up stuff, but we ended up talking about how G-d is looking down at us saying  that classic Professor Marvel line from “The Wizard of Oz”: “Poor kid. Hope she gets home okay”…’cause he knows we’re usually so preoccupied that we’re bound for disaster…Also I suspect because G-d knows it would make us laugh. He’s that kind of friend.