....a Wonderful Day in the Neighborhood!

Dear Reader,

What a day in the Park!

I got out later than I wanted to, as usual, but once I got out, it was wonderful! The weather was perfect, everything was green, there were folks out enjoying the Park, and many of the dogs and their people who I have come to feel are friends, came through.

The highlight of the day was the extended interaction between a terrific dog, Smokey, and three lovely little girls, who I think were getting their first chance to really "molest" a gentle, patient dog.

Smokey and his person, Linda and a friend came by; we began to have a nice chat, then walked over to the bench area to have a sit and chat some more. Farther over there was a family with three small girls playing; at some point they espied Smokey, and ran over to see him.

Smokey is a singular dog. He is a rescued German Shepherd; incredibly gentle, well tempered, and focused. All Smokey wants to do when he's out in the Park is carry and chase his kong toy. This is basically a stretched hard rubber ball; it takes funny bounces. He likes to have it kicked or thrown; he will chase it if it goes 6 inches or 60 feet. He will do this on end, to the exhaustion of himself and whomever is participating. With all of this focus, it was amazing to watch him patiently sit and be petted, poked, pulled, prodded and generally admired by 3 little girls, each of whom was no larger or heavier than him. A lesser dog might have snapped, not only psychologically, but at one of the girls; Smokey dealt with it all, in hopes that he would get to play more, which he did.

It was such a hoot to watch the girls explore Smokey, watch them run around, speak with their parents about them, watch them play with another dog who happened into the picnic zone. In short, for me, it was so wonderful to watch people really enjoying the area I work in. This is exactly the goal I am working towards; having the area be an oasis for folks to come out, enjoy the park, maybe get to know their neighbors, interact with the nature that's out there, and appreciate the park in general. I am fortunate that in this case, I was also able to sit down with folks for a while and chat and joke. Although I'm out there working, for me it is a social exercise as well; sometimes I talk to the dogs first, but I always do end up talking to the people. I hope at some point to make some real friends out in the Park.

This harkens back to my previous column, "Small Town: New York City"
(http://catbirdeye.blogspot.com/2006/12/dear-reader-next-time-one-of-your-out.html). I continue to be surprised at how many people I know, at least by face, in my neighborhood. I even have neighbors in my building whose names I don't know, but who give a nice "Hi" and a wave when I see them in the Park or on the street.

I really love this part of my life. I know I post many depression-inspired columns, and those are totally real. There are parts of my life that continue to frustrate and sometimes overwhelm me. Fortunately, though, I have a short enough attention span that a day like yesterday enlivens me for a good time to come; I might even get my new tattoo soon!

Happy Memorial Day,
Catbird

Friends for Life.....?

Dear Reader,

I've been thinking of my friendships lately. I've been thinking of all of the people I work with, sing with, enjoy the Park with, and how many of those people are really my friends.

Many of them are friends, in the immediacy of the moment. They are friends while we're in the room singing, or while we're in the office working, or while we're in the park chatting about the gardens, dogs, etc. But none of them is a "best friend." None of them is someone I could call in a moment of need or weakness or despair. None of them is someone I could call to "just talk," just blab or gossip or even argue. None of them is someone that I would not feel terribly guilty about asking for help, and awfully humiliated at being needy. And sadly, none of them is someone I could just call up and say, "Hey, want to go see a movie; or go out for a bite or a drink," or anything else social.

Over my lifetime, I've had few "best" friends. I can count them on one hand. And, they have always left, or I've left, so those friendships have been short-lived. The longest "best friendship" that I have had was my friend Joy, with whom I was friends from 1979, when we met through circuitous circumstances, until she died in 2003. I have been feeling this loss more recently on meeting a woman who not only resembles my friend in appearance, but in attitude in many ways. I do not expect to form a "best friendship" with this person, but she brought to mind what I had lost.

The other person I felt was a best friend in my adult life was a woman I sang with in several different groups, with whom I had an "occasional" interaction, but when we did get together, it felt totally easy and comfortable. Later in our interaction, I would see her once or twice a year, for a day or two, to compile her tax information and help her get her husband's materials organized. Although I did send a bill for the work (at her request), for me these sessions were much more about catching up and commiserating. Nancy died of breast cancer in March of 2005.

Having lost the only two "best" friends I have felt I've had in my adult life, I now know the meaning of the phrase "friends for life." I have many friends, associates and other relationships that have been continuous for my entire lifetime, or at least a good portion thereof. Of course, I've known my sisters for 49 (Amy) and almost 42 (Megan) years; I've known the woman I work with off and on since 1976 or 77; I have a few other folks I've known since college, which is nearly 30 years.

But no "best" friends; not really any friends for life. No one that I can call on, rely on or even impose upon, at least without feeling tremendous guilt. The "friend" test is that there is no guilt in the interaction; there is no feeling that one is imposing oneself, or that one has to worry about showing the bad or weak side. Best friends accept all, and do their best to help, if help is wanted. This is why I was able to see my friend Joy in the throes of Parkinson's disease, and feel terrible that I was losing her. I considered for awhile moving in with her to take care of her, but that was simply not possible. I felt badly that I wasn't able to do more for her.

I don't know if I'll be able to make another friend for life. I hope so, but at my age, everyone pretty much has their lifetime relationships sorted out, so there's little room for new ones. I do still hope I'll meet a man, but in the big picture, that person won't end up being my "best" friend, although the relationship experts say he should be.

I suppose if I could like myself it would be a start, eh?

Sorry to be so philosophical,
Catbird

We'll be "Tsarry!"

Dear Reader,

I have stayed away from politics here because I usually just get angry when I think/talk/write about the current political situation. However, the latest development has driven me to write.

A "War Czar (Tsar)" has been appointed by "W" to handle the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. I had always thought, perhaps naively, that there was a "Secretary of Defense," or a "Commander of the Joint Chiefs of Staff," or EVEN a "Commander in Chief" to handle these things. Now we need a War Czar (Tsar)?

And, does anyone know or remember who and what the original tsars (czars) were? Absolute, dictatorial, unilateral, unquestioned rulers; unelected royalty whose rule was only ended when the entire family of the last one was killed, including the children, because otherwise they may have come back as Czars (Tsars) or Czarinas (Ts... yeah, yeah).

Is it me, or is there something wrong with this picture? Are we getting yet another "presidential" appointment, who won't be voted on by Congress (not that that has done much), and who can't be removed from office by anyone other than the "President?" And what are the chances what he’ll be rejected by the Senate, as he is, apparently, subject to some approval? Will the Dems have the spines to reject this new invented office? All “W” has to do is appoint a few more people, in bogus offices, and he'll have the entire system under his control. All Congress seems to be able to do is hold pointless hearings, and maybe take down a flunky or two.

What the hell has happened to representative government, the Constitution, those things we learned about in Social Studies? Has the "W" administration circumvented them entirely, or have we relinquished our government by not participating? How many more czars (tsars) are we in for, at least until 2009? You tell me.

More for sure,
Catbird

Nature: Alive and Well, and Living in NYC

Dear Reader,

I have been gardening in New York City, in various areas, since 1991. I began working out in the medians on Broadway near my apartment building; three blocks from 101st St. to 104th St., where I gardened until June, 2003. Then, I was fortunate to get an area in Riverside Park, again near my building; my area runs from 101st St. to 103rd St., in what is known as the "Firemen's Memorial Island" section of Riverside Park.

Throughout my years out in the Parks, there have been things that have consistently amazed me. For one, how so many New Yorkers take so little notice of the nature and greenery that surrounds them in the forms of street trees, window boxes, pocket and larger parks, birds nesting (not pigeons; they'll get their own column), etc.

Then there is the matter of trash; it never ceases to amaze me how people think it's okay to drop pieces of paper and plastic, used kleenexes, straw wrappers, and the number one piece of trash in NYC, the zip strips from cigarette packs, on the ground, thoughtlessly, mindlessly. Do they do this in their homes? Who do they think will pick this stuff up, or do they even think that far in advance? I just don't get the behavior.

But the thing that amazes me the most is when nature explodes in the City each year. This happens every spring. At some point, usually within a week, it seems as if everything happens. The trees are fully covered in leaves; the shrubs are all flowering; the grass is all green; the violets and other flowers are in full bloom. Now, the reality is that we've already had the early bloomers; the forsythias and daffodils have hit, the callary pears (one of the predominant street trees) have bloomed and are leafed out, many of the early guys have all done their things. But somehow, it seems that everything else all happens at once.

When I went out into the gardens yesterday, I was inundated by green. My big shrubs were all shaggy and in need of a trim; the tiny flowers and catkins had all fallen from the ginkgoes and oak and covered the ground. The grass has shot up, the second round of bulbs has hit, and I am suddenly overwhelmed with pruning that needs to be done! The big trees are all leafed out; it just seems like last week I could still see through them out to the River (the Hudson). Now, I won't see it again until October, unless I go down into the main Park.

People think of Nature and the City as two separate and antithetical things. They are not. Despite the bricks and mortar, paving and cement, Nature can't be held back even in the middle of the most urbanized place on earth. Fortunately, there are enough people in New York who appreciate these green spaces, and support their care and continuing existence. The current mayor and administration seem to also appreciate greenery, and have programs in place to expand the green areas in the City. This isn't just an environmental fad; city planners have finally learned that people who live and work, or even just work in urban areas need those green spaces. People need their surroundings to reflect nature and the seasons, even if it's just a strip of land in the middle of a roadway.

I am so fortunate that I am able to participate directly in maintaining a great slice of green in the City, and am involved with an organization that works terrifically to maintain the green western edge of Manhattan Island. Nature IS alive and well, and happily living in New York City!

More pix to follow,
Catbird

Singing for my Sanity

Dear Reader,

You may have gathered from these columns that I am a singer. I am not a professional singer; I don't earn a living at it. But I have always been fortunate to be involved with groups that do high-level musical work, and sometimes get pretty "high-falutin" gigs. We did one of those last night.

I have been singing for as long as I can remember; informally as a kid, singing "Jesus Loves Me" with my sister for my grandparents' congregation when we were tiny (I, 5 and she, 3, I think). Singing along with the 45-RPM records we had as kids: Daddy would put a stack on the automatic record changer when we woke up on Saturday mornings; these would keep us occupied while he went back to bed for an hour or so, until it was time for cartoons. Singing along with the Beatles on the records I wore the grooves out on; learning the tunes, harmonies, rhythms, messages to the point where I can still quote nearly all of the Beatles catalog almost from memory. I finally became involved in "formal" singing in high school, in my second year. I was one of the "smart" kids, and had an extra course slot to fill. I was told chorus was easy, so I signed up for it. It turned out to be one of the most difficult classes I had, but fortunately, I was good at it. I learned to read music, perform, rudimentary vocal technique, and had an "in" to participate in the school musical each year. I had had several years of ballet, so I had a good sense of rhythm and tempo already; the dancing also helped in the shows.

When I came to NYC for college, one of the first things I did was find the choral organizations on campus. At the time, there were only two; the Columbia Glee Club (all men, except for a few female tenors), and the Barnard-Columbia Chorus, the community/Music Department chorus, each semester of which counted as 1/4 of a course. The grading was Pass/Fail, but amazingly, when I began, the conductor was Gregg Smith, one of the premier choral musicians and conductors in the country. At the time I had no idea who he was; he was also the conductor of the Glee Club, which WAS a big deal. In any case, I joined the chorus, not the Glee Club; I'm a soprano, and could not sing tenor. I was also accepted after auditioning into the Madrigal Group, which was a subset of the B-C Chorus. This was conducted by Gregg's then-assistant, Peter Schubert. Thus began one of the relationships which led to later relationships which have carried on up to now, 33 years later.

I have been singing continuously in choruses since 1971, with only two, 1-year breaks. These two years that I took off I look back on as a couple of the low points in my life. The assumption is that it's because I wasn't singing, but it could be I took the years off because things were so bad, and I didn't want to carry that into my singing. I don't know which it is, honestly. I am lucky that after each hiatus, I have been able to come back, audition, get in (!!) to superior (or soon to be superior) choral organizations, and become deeply involved in them. I don't just show up and sing. I get involved in the running of the groups; I have the "treasurer" skills, which groups always need. I inevitably end up on the boards, or helping in management in some way. I love giving parties, and this is also a skill choruses need.

The groups I have sung, and currently sing with have been comprised of very skilled, amateur singers and musicians. The word "amateur" is unfortunately seen as pejorative; in fact, it means "lover of." I sing with very skilled lovers of choral music and singing. I have spent lots of time and money honing my skills, as well. I was a music major in college long enough to get all of the basics (music theory, history, ear training); I spent several years cleaning house in exchange for voice lessons, and spent 4 years studying with a great teacher who helped me harness the real power of my voice.

It's funny though; if someone asks me to sing something for them (a tune, an ad theme, whatever), I can't do it. I can sing in a "formal" setting; I can sing when I'm alone with the cats; I can't sing informally for other people. Very weird.

This discussion was brought on by a gig we did last night. It was the 25th Anniversary Gala for Americares; the highlight was that we were singing for George H.W. Bush (41) and Barbara. I was only able to see his forehead from my place on the stage, but it was clearly HW's forehead! Bar was at a separate table, and I couldn't spot her hair. Bummer. Anyway, the gig went well, and my little bit of "production" went over well, apparently.

This was our last gig for the season. We reconvene in September, although I am hoping to have a party for the group out in the Park sometime this summer. It would be great to bring both of my worlds together; we'll see if I can get it together and do something.

More to come,
Catbird