"I've been thinking of you today..."

This romantic card contained no signature because it had a note attached...

a note to a young woman's heart...

Sex, Lies, and 40 years later... the Internet

These greeting cards are pieces of a bittersweet memory from 1970 to 1973, and the messages are quite romantic. I saved the cards to always remember a man I loved named: Lou. But, this was a dark and layered and mysterious "love" because Lou was not just a man... he was my therapist.
Lou looked like Al Pacino in "Serpico." And he was married with several children. I'll be brief...
I began seeing a therapist in about 1970. His office was in Greenwich Village and after just a few sessions I came under the seductive spell of "erotic transference." I grew attached and I was dependent. I fell in love, or thought I had fallen in love. The feelings were not yet mutual. There arrived the day when Lou told me he was moving his practice to Staten Island. I was not ready at all for the separation and I was emotionally devastated. So, I followed him to Staten Island and became a twice a week ferry regular.
The longing for him until my sessions each week was unbearable. I was vaguely aware back then that transference was a common feeling when in analysis. And I had fallen deeply in love with my therapist. Lou sent a real mixed bag of messages; by turns flirting with me and allowing me to believe the feelings were becoming mutual, and at the end of each session he drove me back to catch the ferry. But, in the sessions he would emotionally push me away. He pulled me in and gave me hope and played with my desire, and then confused me by pushing me away with his mercurial whim. He vaguely promised to soon meet me for lunch in Manhattan and then in the next session he told me to find another therapist. I returned home filled with longing and I was confused and desperately unhappy. I was in anguish. I wrote him long love letters in which I poured out my heart.
He sent me greeting cards for Valentine's Day and my birthday... copies hang at this blog (configured with folds to fit.) The saga continued for several years and well.. as it goes with time, the hypnotic spell eventually broke and I ended the "therapy." One day, just like that.
About eight years later, in 1981... I tried Lou's old number and I called. I needed closure. Lou was very excited and happy to hear from me. He was now divorced. He started calling me twice a day. I had to tell him to calm down. So, we had dinner at a Manhattan restaurant. He sat there all pompous and smoking a nasty cigar. We went back to my apartment and well... anyway, when he left he hugged me and I knew it was a good-bye forever. He had not changed. He had told me over dinner his experience with me took him to a place where he made a decision to never allow physical contact with a patient in a session ever again. The man was a fast and quick study!
I look back on this episode of my life now and it is totally meaningless. I am not angry. I feel nothing. I know this goes on. I watched "In Treatment." Lou was verbally unprofessional, unethical, and his behavior was inconsistent. He did not know what to do about me and he could not handle and come to terms with his own feelings. I hope in real life transference is being handled properly by those who have fallen under it's seductive spell. I am happy I saved all of Lou's cards because I am reminded of what I believed to be what Diane Keaton has called "the sweet anguish of love..." in my specific situation in all it's full-blown and enabled delusional glory.

"Milk"

I saw "Milk" today and what a great film this is which honors an extraordinary man and visionary politician. Parts of the film took me back to "the David" years. I was surprised that during those times a teacher could lose her job if she openly supported gay rights. I was a teacher in 1976 who marched in the Gay Parade and I attended rallies. I never gave it a second thought. These photos show the end of the parade on that summer day on 7th Avenue South in 1976. We then walked to a gathering on Hudson Street where I posed for a photo. And that night, I went to the "Limelight" to see David... performing as Barbra and Cher.

a swim, a pony ride, and pulling a hitcher

All these three photos show different kinds of rides. Sometimes we swim dangerously alone and in three inches of water wear a tube. Sometimes we take rides and let a stronger person lead the way. And sometimes we give a ride to a friend who needs a lift. Wherever the ride takes me, at the end of the day memories beckon from behind stained glass windows and I am like a naked amnesiac who struggles to reach some intoxicating elixir of home. ® WGAE 2004

Greetings from a Time Traveler!

I think I got it! OMG, the clue is in the "tachyons!" My favorite theoretical physicists are Michio Kaku and Amit Goswami. If you put their ideas together, you got some "ball 'a wax!" And along with Stephen Hawking, they too are searching for the "Theory of Everything," which is considered the "Holy Grail" of physics.
The entire universe is governed by four fundamental forces: the gravitational force, the electromagnetic force, and the strong and weak nuclear forces. And the "Theory of Everything" will link together all the four forces.
Dr. Michio Kaku explains that before the Big Bang, the cosmos was a perfect ten-dimensional universe. Our ten-dimensional world cracked, creating a four-dimensional universe. Out of the chaos of the Big Bang came one electron, which traveled back and forth through time creating copies of itself and an infinite set of parallel universes, each with it's own clock. In a sense, all time exists at the same time in an expanding universe.
Dr. Amit Goswami writes that "consciousness" creates the material world. This has profound implications. It implies that each consciousness, from the Big Bang to the Big Crunch, must always be present as "an observer" in order for there to be a universe. Not one person can ever truly "die" and thereby no longer exist.
I believe in reincarnation, and superstring theory in quantum physics hints that it is possible to "time travel." When we "shuffle off this mortal coil" the consciousness is no longer confined by matter or gravity. The "tachyons" of the mind tunnel FTL through wormholes, at black holes, to one of an infinite set of parallel universes where you can be born again forward or backward in time. Such beauty exists in this simplicity. It is our consciousness after death that is the ultimate time traveler. We are all time travelers!
Oh, what a journey! I am left breathless by the infinite possibilities! Perhaps one glorious day I will ride with Jack Kerouac. Maybe one great night I will party with Marion Davies and William Hearst at San Simeon. I hope in a next life I remember not to book passage on the Titanic.
Can we begin to understand the strange cosmos? Stephen Hawking said: "to know the Theory of Everything is to truly read the mind of God." Albert Einstein said: "God does not play dice in the universe." Perhaps physicists are not hard-wired to ever find the mysterious and elusive missing piece of the puzzle.
Maybe we are just like little goldfish... goldfish who will never ever even understand that 1 + 1 = 2.

"good teachers"

I recently was involved in a discussion with a man who used the expression "good teachers." That same day, a woman said it was "tragic" that students did not want to learn. That gave me a good laugh. She must have forgotten what school was like. I openly admit I never went to school "to learn." I don't remember any kids liking school. I hated school and so did all my friends. We loved summer vacations, snow days, weekends, and holidays. We loved when the teacher was absent. We tortured subs like all kids do. We all signed "Maynard G. Krebs" when the substitute passed around the attendance sheet. We never connected school with "learning" and like all kids, we wanted fun during school hours! I can remember sitting with my friend Roberta in the school cafeteria. We bought 8 Hostess Sno Balls that had pink and white tops. Just as lunch was ending, we "scalped" the Sno Balls and left the tops on the lunch table to annoy the teacher who was on lunch duty. We had such innocent fun in school back in the 60s. But, we also turned a chemistry room into total pandemonium when the bunson burner accidentally exploded in the teacher's face.
So what's this hand-wringing shtik about kids going to school these days and not "wanting to learn?" Most kids never connect school with learning. I think adults have to accept that scenario and also stop thinking that learning should be fun. The "fun" has to be taken out of the daytime equation. Schools should be like that old TV documentary "Scared Straight." Anything else sends the wrong message because in the 60s it was all about American Bandstand and today it is all MTV. School is not MTV.
The latest hogwash is for school to be run like a model from the corporate business world, where the teachers who don't "produce" are "fired." That is an even bigger laugh. Obviously, none of those who advocate that agenda have ever been in a school in the role of a classroom teacher. One day in the classroom would be their total cure. They seem to think it is all about crafting excellent lessons where students sit quietly and attentive soaking up the subject matter like dutiful sponges. They believe that students regurgitate on standardized tests what they were taught and thereby show a teacher's merit. They do not understand that there are variables involved such as paying attention, studying and learning the material, and doing the assigned work to reinforce the lesson.
And the most important element of what makes a "good teacher" is the ability to handle and manage what often may be a difficult class with several disruptive students. The teacher needs the ability to manage the schedule of subject time blocks and to craft mandated mini-lessons that are easy to understand and follow. She must communicate with students and parents in a professional manner in soft and measured tones and never never ever "yell. " Yelling is considered corporal punishment.
The teacher must be able to handle many noneducational tasks and interruptions each day... such as students going to the nurse, parents coming to pick up students, the need for the bathroom all day, notes from parents, fights, missing books, students' needs (the sun is in my eyes, it's hot in here, it's cold in here, he took my pencil, my brother expects his notebook now, my mother told me to call her at 11:00, etc.) And then the class phone will ring and the school secretary is asking for a child to be sent to the office immediately with work for the week because he is being placed on an in-house suspension. During the call, everybody starts talking and when the call ends the teacher has to use all her energy to quiet everybody down again. Two minutes later, the principal booms into the class loudspeaker that a monitor should bring down the class record box. Then a fight from the hall spills into your classroom and the school security guard trips over the students while she is trying to break up the fight.
There are constant disruptions to be handled such as the nurse coming in with notes for immediate distribution, the art teacher returning unfinished paintings, the speech teacher picking up her group, the resource room teacher giving you IP reports to fill out, the computer repair guy coming to class, the principal asking for report cards, the school secretary asking for immunization record reports, administrators who march in from the district office and check bulletin boards for posted standards, the school-based team asking for student assessments, the custodian coming in to deliver new equipment, the testing digiteks arriving which have to be returned within an hour, your planbook is overdue and you didn't list the aim of every lesson, the science teacher comes in and wants your projects for the fair, the music teacher busts in and wants the chorus, a kid vomits in the back, a kid goes to the closet and rips a down coat and feathers fly all over the room, a kid chases another kid into the hall, the AP returns a kid who ran out of the room and she tells you it was because your lesson was not motivating... whew, can we come up for air?
And yes, indeed the teacher will be blamed for everything. There is not one incident for which the teacher cannot and will not be blamed. If an 11 year old student trips on his way to the bathroom, the teacher will be asked by the principal why she did not make sure his shoes were tied before he left the room. If a student does not eat his lunch during the lunch hour, the teacher will be asked why she did not realize the student was not hungry before the lunch hour and send him to the guidance counselor. If a student does not do his homework, the teacher will be blamed for not making the homework more interesting. If a student fights with a sibling on the weekend, the teacher will be blamed for not assigning more reading to provide more weekend distractions. If one student pushes another student on the stairs and they fall, the teacher will be blamed for allowing them to be near each other on the class line. You get the picture. The teacher will be blamed for everything that happens... even if she is not even there. And the teacher must value "instructional time" more than fasting on Yontiff.
Wait! I omitted the most important point for the evaluation and determination of who are "good teachers." She should be a good interior decorator because principals love love love rooms that look like super sweet sixteen parties. Her bulletin boards should have cotton and glitter and pipe cleaners and three-dimensional pop-out technicolor doilies and ribbons. And they must be covered in more plastic than my Aunt Sadie's Brooklyn sofa.
And if anybody asks about the school... teachers must always reply: "It's good," even if it resembles the prison in "Midnight Express" because TPTB hate hate hate whistleblowers. Teachers, be prepared to kiss principals' asses in Macy's window until retirement! OK, how do we determine who "good teachers" are? Well, at the least level she should certainly be able to multi- task! And on a few days along the way be prepared to go home by ambulance. :-D

I dedicate this blog entry to Ruth Wenig, Kimani Brown, Michael Thomas, and Josh Gutterman... who learned the score the hard way from principals who perhaps had no principles as they pursued their transparent hidden and vindictive agendas.
Ruth Wenig's ordeal:
http://www.uft.org/news/teacher/general/religious_practice/

Kimani Brown's saga:
http://www.uft.org/news/teacher/top/banished_rubber_room/

Michael Thomas's saga:
http://www.uft.org/news/teacher/top/whistler_blower_sent_rr/

Josh Gutterman's saga:
http://www.uft.org/news/teacher/top/fighting_back/

and my saga:
http://marjorie-palimpsests.blogspot.com/2008/08/teacher-accountability.html
http://marjorie-palimpsests.blogspot.com/2008/08/they-were-both-hoisted-on-their-own.html

In about 1976, I asked my friend Nell why newspaper columnists wrote pieces that were filled with advice that was not even relevant or pertinent to education in the school system. She replied: "They have no idea what goes on." And it appears that her response can still be applied today.

"you can't go home again"

“When you finally go back to your old hometown, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood”--- Thomas Wolfe

I may not be able to "go home" again, but I can close my eyes and still hear my mother (at 5:30) every evening calling us for "supper."  I open my eyes and walk to Whole Foods for an organic chicken and I wash it down with a pint of chocolate Haagen-Dazs. Then, I watch some reality TV and wait for the next day to arrive. In retirement, it's "Groundhog Day!" Or is it.....?

a view most remembered

a long time ago, through a window I could hear the sound of cars passing and if I looked out that window... I could see an earlier version of this view

the view from the epicenter

though I have lived in other places for shorter times and in another location for more than half of my life, it was this view from this window that remains with me the most

linked

Here are some other great photos of "the old."
PS 110M

Woman in front of the Garden Cafeteria

PS 122M, which is now a performance space

Shearith Israel cemetary. which is located on 21st Street between 6th and 7th Avenues in Manhattan

interior of McManus cafe, which is located on the corner of my street

exterior of the McManus cafe

PS 229K, my first school in Brooklyn

the old Garfield Cafeteria, which had the best red jello ever

the Valley Stream State Park, which could double for Willoughby

microforms, bring it on

I went to the NYC Public Library today and headed straight for the microforms room. I was licking my chops. On the call number form I asked for the Manhattan White Pages from the year of 1948. I wanted to load the film and print the list of NYC public schools from that year. I was curious to see the exact locations of many of the old schools from 60 years ago which are now vacant or no longer schools. The New York Public Library is a treasure trove of documents. Please click on the above page to enlarge it.
I was about to exit the library and noticed a quiet buzz around the main exhibit room. It was the Yaddo exhibit! Glory day! I stayed for another two hours reading and looking at all the interesting letters and papers and photos. The guard literally had to drag me out of the room at closing time.

from Yaddo's website

from the NYC Public Library

from the NY Times

schools that once were

In the background and to the right is an old school that is now a homeless shelter. It is actually just to the north of the newer PS 126, whose playground is on Catherine Street.


the old PS 160 is now the Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center at 107 Suffolk Street


the old PS 31 at the intersection of Monroe and Gouverneor Streets


the old PS 91 on Forsyth Street

Pitt Street, 2008

The top photo shows Our Lady of Sorrows Church. The church was built from 1867-68 based on the designs by Henry Engelbert. He combined Victorian, Byzantine, and Romanesque styles, and the church opened on September 6, 1868.
The next picture shows the old PS 4. It can be seen in the center of the photo. It stood on Pitt Street at Rivington Street and it was further south nearer to Delancy Street.The building has been gutted and only the facade remains. It is now an apartment house.
about Pitt Street from the NY Sun.

the old

there is nothing like a delicious bialy from old Kossar's


the Henry Street Settlement on Grand Street is old


it feels old


the old Zafi's luncheonette next to the new butcher which replaced the old and beloved Welcome Pharmacy


the old Seward Park High School


the old PS 12, on Henry Street right off Grand Street
my father's cousin, Arthur Seidman, was the principal of this school for many years... and he can be seen as a young man in the photo (at this blog) of the side of the family from Minsk that was taken in about 1916 in Brooklyn


the mikvah is still in the old building on the right


the old PS 147 became a new PS 134

even older

This is the Jewish Daily Forward Building, which was built in 1912. It is located at 175 East Broadway.


The Asser Levy Bathhouse on 23rd Street was designed by architects Arnold W. Brunner and William Martin Aiken in the Beaux-Arts style.


The Hamilton Fish Park was designed in 1898 by Carrère & Hastings who were the architects of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue. This is a Beaux-Arts style structure on Pitt Street and is the only survivor of the original park plan.


This is the very old Bialystoker Synagogue, and a history is here


This is St. Augustine's Parish, a very old church on Henry Street and this is their website


This is St. Mary's Church located at 440 Grand Street.

west 18th street

West 18th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues was originally lined with private stables. This article from the New York Times of January 27, 2008 tells about the history of West 18th Street. 138 West 18th Street is shut down. It was home for many years to the Carrandi Gallery. At the link you can click on the slide show to see the facade and the interior of the gallery that is now gone.

The Concord Hotel, 1963

All the other adventurers on that cold snowy morning reached the top of the slope and put on their skis and flew down the hill. I decided to walk down. I took baby steps. I was not a risk taker.

fashion forward, 1960s

During a family trip to Puerto Rico in 1965, I walked around all day with rollers in my hair. I loved my bermuda shorts and the horizontal striped tops completed the look. And check out my assortment of glasses. I was 40 years ahead of anything going on at Bryant Park.

turning 60

This was taken in January 2007 at: The Water Club during my 60th birthday bash. Lucy's "Friends of the Friendless" were all there and I played the trombone like Nick Hudson in Foden's Band.

"if a girl isn't pretty like a miss atlantic city"...

like heck all she gets in life is HBO, Showtime, Cinemax, and Starz... and mornings and late nights filled with On Demand.

the last days of autumn

In 2000, I took a catamaran ride up the Hudson River to West Point. The fall foliage was beautiful along the way. And during this fall of 2008, I visited Historic Richmond Town on Staten Island, where the pumpkins were ready for pickin'.