Circle In Monkeyshines, Winter 2022

As some of you may know, my partner Toby Hobbes, aka dudley ghost is a musician / artist who frequently contributes mixed media to Jonathan Russell’s quarterly Monkeyshines zine. I have joined him in contributing to the hot-off-the-press Winter 2022 issue. Here is my contribution:

Circle

In a Queens, New York row house
a mother and her infant begin their daily stroll.
She pushes the carriage forward embarking on their route
in these trying times.

She turns right into the kitchen
then right through the living room
another right into the dining room
where mother and child are momentarily bathed
in a sunbeam through the skylight.

Another right turn and it’s
back through the kitchen again.

There’s a rhythm to the carriage wheels
rolling on and off the area rugs.
The mother chants along in a sing-song voice:
Right turn, right turn, right turn, sun!
Right turn, right turn, right turn, sun!

Around and around they go
through the sunlight every 37 seconds.
The child squints and laughs.
The mother smiles through her song.

This moment in time she will always remember
how she kept her baby safe.
This moment in time she will never recount
to a child too young to remember.

The mother’s efforts will not be in vain.
The child will live for 101 years.
Ultimately exposed by a grandson
who didn’t trust the science.

Lying in an ambulance headed to Elmhurst Hospital
There is some cellular recall.
A flicker of a memory:
Right turn, right turn, right turn, sun.

Monkeyshines | ˈməNGkēˌSHīnz | 1. pl. noun: Mischievous behavior.
2. noun What is probably the finest, best example of a zine in existence.

Subscribe to print edition: subscribe@monkeyshines.media

A little backstory….
I walk my dog in the alley behind a block of these row houses in Queens, New York. In the early months of the pandemic, I would see this woman pushing a stroller around inside her house. She would repeatedly pass by the dining room window, always entering on the right and exiting to the left, moving through a sunbeam from the skylight as she walked the stroller around and around. This image stayed with me as such an interesting symbol of the strange time we were living in…. this mother did not want to risk taking her baby outside, but infants are often calmed by the movement of a stroller, so she just kept circling around in the house, day after day.

My grandmother and her mother, Woodhaven, Queens (1918)

As comparisons were made to the 1918 flu pandemic, it occurred to me that my grandmother was born in April of that year in Woodhaven, Queens. This is just a mile or two from where I live now. My great-grandparents lived in a row house and, with the birth of my grandmother, had three daughters under the age of 6. And yet there was never a single story passed down about how they made it through or what life was like at that time.

Back to the present: my partner and I see this guy around our neighborhood who lives on the next block in the house where he grew up. When the pandemic hit, he was caring for his elderly mother and was especially concerned about her health.  As time progressed, it became clear that he was anti-mask and anti-vaxx. “For your mother’s sake, if nothing else,” I said; “you really should get vaccinated.” We started to avoid talking to him when we would see his stupid maskless face heading towards us.

His mother died last month. I am unclear on the circumstances.

On The Life Of Brian… During The Pandemic

Artist / writer Adam Donaldson Powell asked if I would contribute to his latest project, in which he invites artists, writers, musicians, and other performing artists from around the world to contribute essays about their work and lives during the COVID-19 pandemic and aftermath. Here is my contribution:

https://adam-donaldson-powell.blog/2021/05/11/on-the-life-of-brian-during-the-pandemic/

Guys with iPhones. In Masks. On Subways.

Earlier this year, I began posting photos I snapped around New York City – just as the pandemic was taking hold and then again when it started to reopen. As we teeter on the edge of another necessary lockdown, lets pay tribute to these intrepid commuters – men who have navigated the subways sporting face coverage while still putting forth a sense of style as well as a certain…. je ne sais quois.

This post goes out to KennethInThe212 blog, which recently celebrated its 15th anniversary. Prior to the pandemic, Kenneth Walsh (who lives in Manhattan so you don’t have to) regularly featured snapshots of stylish men photographed in transit. Alas, he doesn’t need to take the subway while working from home, so I began taking photos that I imagined would have fit comfortably into his oeuvre (despite a lack of mustaches and singlets).

Then again… who knows what facial hair grows behind these masks?

Congratulations to Kenneth on 15 years! Stay safe New York.

More Toilet Papers Of The World

Last month I posted my ongoing tribute to toilet papers from foreign lands that have washed up on our shores. Six months into the pandemic, the U.S. supply chain continues its struggle to catch up with the pooping demands of a terrified nation. Exotic papiers de toilette have found their way onto the shelves of our local supermarkets, bodegas and pharmacies. In honor of these quirky lifesavers of dubious quality, I posted an 8-part video series here. Today I present to you three more entries honoring Toilet Papers Of The World!

Domino – Dominican Republic

Más suave! From the Dominican Republic, here’s Domino, with an acento agudo over the “O” that I can’t get my keyboard to duplicate. Joining the parade of furry TP mascots like the shitting Charmin bears, Bulgaria’s Emeka pooping panda and Poland’s crapping Camilla Almusso cub, Domino brings you their BM bunny. Welcome!

Stratus – China

I’ll be honest – I did not buy this one. Things are not so bad that I have to resort to bamboo toilet paper, although it is a nice metaphor for 2020.

Sufy – Turkey

The word on the street in Ankara: Sufy is super ëmici with extra yumuşak! Who am I to disagree?

Newsday article, November 16, 2020 – Besides the photo of Regio (video #7), Vogue (video #4) was also mentioned. (Thanks for sending this, Mike Turner!)

That’s all for now. If you come across any exotic TP’s that you would like to share, please do!

Never Forget This:

Remember when the New York Times ran “Portraits of Grief” – a series of profiles of those lost on 9/11? They didn’t cover every single person who perished, but these were published daily for months and later compiled in a book – 1,800 individual stories. It was hard to grasp the number of lives lost.

We are now losing a 9/11’s worth of lives every 2-3 days. Over 190,000 people in this country have died. If the New York Times were to profile one person each day, it would take – are you ready? – over 520 years. And that’s if COVID “magically went away” and didn’t claim another life after today.

Where are these people being honored other than @facesofcovid? At the very least, why aren’t U.S. flags flown at half-staff? Is it because they die in solitude and not on a clear day, live on television?

To those who aggressively wave their flags and yell “Never forget” as an angry cry for revenge – still calling for the blood of those responsible for the 9/11 attacks even though we got them long ago – let us never forget this:

Trump dismantled the Pandemic Response Team that was already in place.

He threw out the Pandemic Action Plan given to him by the previous administration.

He purposely downplayed the virus and lied to the American people.

He continues to put concern for the economy over the safety of the public.

He continues to put us all in danger by ridiculing those taking precautions for their own lives.

Other things to never forget:

Remember that he invited Taliban leaders to the White House while simultaneously withdrawing our troops from Iraq.

Remember that he still has not condemned Putin’s bounty on the heads of U.S. soldiers.

Remember that he refers to service people as “suckers and losers.”

These are just the highlights.

Never forget what this traitor has done – and continues to do – to us and to the country.

New York Is Still (Kind Of) A Ghost Town

After nearly 5 months of working remotely from my home office in the lovely borough of Queens, I was summoned back into Manhattan on August 10th. This was the first time I had been there since March 18th, when everything was shutting down and downtown NYC was eerily quiet. I posted the photos I took in March here.

Upon my return, I quickly figured out that everyone else didn’t get the memo that we were supposed to come back – both in and out of the office. The quiet took me by surprise, but was not unwelcome. My fear of being trapped in some close quarters subway rush hour (so far) has not been the reality.

There will never be another time quite like this, so I am taking pictures once again. These were all taken at what would normally be high traffic times of day:  weekday rush hour or lunch hour.  And while I do notice an uptick in the amount of people over the last 3 weeks, I still find myself, at 8:50am, walking in a long stretch of the Fulton Street subway station… and I am the only person there. At rush hour. On a weekday. So, no. New York is not a total ghost town, but it’s still pretty close. Here are some photos from the past couple of weeks.

LIRR Arriving at Penn Station – August 17th, Mon. 8am

Before and after the protests: City Hall Park – March 18th and August 12th.

Brooklyn Bridge on-ramp looking NorthAug. 12th, Wed. Noon

Park Row – August 20th, Thurs. 1:30pm

Spruce St. fine dining on a slope, under scaffolding, next to the parking garage.Aug. 11th, Tues. 3:00pm

Benton Cafe @ 134 William St. – Aug. 20th, Thurs. 2:00pm

I have not yet had to face the corner in a shared elevator.

Centre St. – Aug. 13th, Thurs. 2pm

NYC Supreme Court, 60 Centre St. – Aug. 13th, Thurs. 2pm
100 Centre St. – Aug. 13th, Thurs. 2pm

Chinatown: Canal St. @ Mercer St. – Aug. 13th, Thurs. 2:15pm

Broadway @ Bowling Green –  Aug. 31st, Mon. 11:20am

The Canyon of Heroes: Broadway looking north from Wall St. – Aug. 31st, Mon. 11:30am

Federal Hall, Wall St. – Aug. 31st, Mon. 11:30am

Maiden Lane @ Nassau St – Aug. 31st, Mon. 11:35am

Classes are in session. Can you tell? Aug. 31st, Mon. 11:45am

Uptown A Train / Canal St. Station – Aug. 13th, Thurs. 2:20pm

34th St. A Train Platform – Candy seller with no customers – Aug. 13th Thurs. 2:30pm
Construction worker removes his mask for a moment on a hot day, uptown A Train – Aug. 13th, Thurs. 2:30pm

Uptown A Train @ Chambers St. – Aug. 24th, Mon. 5:30pm

Penn StationAug 20th, Thurs. 5pm

Penn Station – Aug. 17th, Mon. 5pm

34th St. A Train Platform – Aug. 10th, Mon. 8am

Penn Station Pigeon – Wed. Aug. 19th, 5pm

Toilet Papers Of The World

International toilet papers from faraway places have come to rescue us! As the U.S. supply chain continues its struggle to catch up with the pooping demands of a terrified nation, exotic TPs of dubious quality have found their way onto the shelves of our local supermarkets, bodegas and pharmacies. In honor of these quirky lifesavers, I bring you an 8-part video series: Toilet Papers Of The World!

Milde – Bulgaria

We begin in Eastern Europe with the strong & soft Milde, makers of Emeka (see below). Both feature “elastic fibers” that are probably causing some plumbing issues that we will have to contend with in the near future.

Suavel – Mexico

Ricooooo….. Admit it – you thought Gerardo as well. Even if you couldn’t remember his name. Why is there a baby in a baseball cap on the label? Do you want your toilet paper to smell like a tropical paradise? Is this TP orange or pink? So many questions.

Emeka – Bulgaria

Who needs the shitting Charmin bears when you have the Emeka pooping panda? I don’t know if it’s “paradise” or not, but there isn’t a single part of a coconut that I want in my toilet paper.

Vogue – Mexico

Strike a pose… Mexico is en Vogue with this chamomile-scented beauty of a bathroom tissue. And beauty’s where you find it.  So let your body go with the flow – you know you can do it! (Surprisingly, most of the lyrics of Vogue easily take on a scatological context).

Camilla Almusso – Poland

Ok – so scratch the shitting Charmin bears… and the Emeka pooping panda. Who needs ’em when we have the crapping Camilla Almusso Cub! From Poland. And delicate!

Good Choice Trading – China

Good Choice: Quality. Confidence. And Wood Pulp. Primary Wood Pulp. None of that Secondary Wood Pulp for your tender tuchus.

Regio – Mexico

Regio = Royal. For when you sit on your throne. And the improved new texture yields maximum durability. Long may you reign.

Sweety – Argentina

Argentina’s Sweety features an extra blanco swan on the package. The video has a nod to the late great NYC actor & drag performer Daniel Booth, aka Sweetie. Gone but never forgotten. Also – the Pet Shop Boys. And Absolutely Fabulous. All in under 20 seconds.

Thanks to friends and family for their contributions to this collection. If any new ones pop up, I’ll be sure to add them!

UPDATE: Here’s Part II

Regio Me

Scenes From A Pandemic: March/April 2020

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3/21: Hall table wi/ masks & New York Magazine, Forest Hills

“We are living in interesting times…” That is an understatement. For better or worse, I thought it should be documented here, as a continuation of my previous two posts. The following photos and videos were taken by me as well as my sister Jennifer, an ER nurse at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Bethpage, Long Island. Additional photos by my partner Toby and my stepdad Mike Turner.

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3/27: St. Joseph’s Emergency Room converted for COVID Triage

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4/1: Jen wearing a donated face guard at work.

Cards and notes of gratitude on the doors of the staff lounge at St. Joseph’s:

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4/2: Before masks were mandatory – a surprise visit to my bedroom window from Mom & Mike.

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4/2: Before masks were mandatory – a surprise visit from Jen.

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4/5 Burns / Clyde St. Alley, Forest Hills

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4/8: Jen in a floral mask made by Mom

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4/10: Burns St. Pharmacy, Forest Hills

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4/12 Pandemic Chic: Toby with Samus @ Forest Hills Stadium

Snacks and treats of gratitude for the staff at St. Josephs:

Every evening at 7pm, New York says thank you to first responders, health care professionals and all the essential people working to keep us safe. This is from local television:

4/17: The 7pm cheer at Parker Towers Apartment Complex in Forest Hills, with a flag bearer and saxophonist playing the Star Spangled Banner:

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4/15: Participants of the 7pm cheer, Parker Towers, Forest Hills

4/15: The 7pm cheer filmed by Jen outside St. Joseph’s Hospital:

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4/17: On her day off, Jen goes to the 7pm cheer with my nephew to support her coworkers.

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4/20: Line for Trader Joe’s, Rego Park

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4/20: Line for Trader Joe’s Pt.2, Rego Park

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4/21: Baron Von Munchausen, (aka Munch) on a chalk rainbow, Burns St., Forest Hills

Thursday At The Racetrack

I arrive at the Aquaduct Racetrack parking lot where the digital traffic sign announces COVID TESTING. I drive up to the first checkpoint. It’s all military here: everyone covered in fatigues and masks. Multiple signs direct me to keep my windows rolled up.

They yell at me through N95s and my closed car windows. I know they aren’t angry but it sure gives that impression. I am a possible contagion under glass. DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT? Yes. WHAT TIME? 1:30. SHOW ME YOUR ID#. PUT IT ON THE DASHBOARD WITH YOUR LICENSE AND LEAVE IT THERE. DO NOT OPEN YOUR WINDOWS.

Next check point. DO NOT OPEN YOUR WINDOWS. My dashboard info is examined and additional paperwork is placed under my windshield wiper. I am really starting to sweat now. It’s a warm day and I have turned off the air conditioning so I can hear what they are saying. I assume someone will take my temperature at some point and I’m going to say that they should really grade that on a curve. Thankfully, nobody ever takes my temperature.

Next check point. I am approaching the testing tent. The windshield wiper paperwork is now held up to the outside of the driver’s side window for me to examine and verify.

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I am instructed to pull up and wait. There are two cars ahead of me. DO NOT OPEN YOUR WINDOW UNTIL YOU ARE INSTRUCTED TO. PUT YOU HEAD BACK ON THE HEADREST. A COTTON SWAB WILL BE INSERTED IN YOUR NOSE TO COLLECT A SAMPLE FROM THE BACK OF YOUR THROAT.

I know. I know. I have been waiting for this appointment for quite some time. I am a week past my 17 days of fevers and fatigue but I thought I should get tested anyway, because who the hell knows what is going on with this virus?

Now it’s my turn. Pull up. Put it in park. Roll the window down. A medical person and his assistant in scrubs and masks approach. The previous information is repeated, just not as loud. I lower my mask. Put my head back. The swab is inserted. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.

“Are you a music teacher?” He’s asking me a question while this thing is twisting in my nose.

“Am I a… huh?” I’m trying to figure out what prompted this inquiry. And then I remember: my mask. Black with white musical notes and clefs on it.

I want to say “Oh – my mask? Well… for my birthday back in 2002, my mother used this fabric to make me a wall tapestry depicting the pre-9/11 New York City skyline and now she used the leftovers to sew masks for my partner and I. Can you believe this world we are living in?”

 
But instead I just say, “No.” The test swab is still grinding against the back of my throat.

 
“Was I close?” he asks.

I know what he’s doing. He’s being nice. He’s trying to keep me calm. But it’s like when you are in the dentist’s chair with a mouth full of gauze and suction and instruments and he asks a question that requires more response than a head shake or a nod. How in-depth can I get in the midst of this procedure?

Was he close? My resume spins like a rolodex in my head. I am overthinking this. I finally manage to say; “I was an actor.” Does that sufficiently answer his question? It is the simplest answer. And I still have a stick in my nose.

No other questions are forthcoming. I think about what I said. I was an actor. Past-tense. Before all this. Before we got here. Are we done?

He slowly slides the swab out and I am momentarily reminded of some stunt we used to pull as kids: snorting a spaghetti noodle up our noses and pulling it out of our mouths. Kids.

Once the swab has been extricated, I let out a little whoop that could be interpreted a lot of ways. Pain? Excitement? Relief? The assistant looks a little startled so I assume it is not the normal reaction.

We are done. I can go online in 2 to 3 days to get my results. I smile and thank them and wish them a good day and roll up my window. I put the car in drive and pull out of the tent, following a line of cones directing me back to Rockaway Boulevard.

The sun streams in through the closed skylight window. And I burst into tears.

———————–

Sunday: My results were posted today and I am all clear.

 

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New York Is A Ghost Town

As some of you may know, I have ramped up the blog posts in the last few months. Here’s a little backstory on why:
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I was abruptly let go from a humanitarian organization back on October 1st as my position was relocated to the London office. I spent the next 5 months at home, searching for a new job… and also devoting more time to this blog and other creative endeavors. I am lucky to have a partner and his nephew at home with full time jobs to help get through that period.
I was recently hired into the president’s office of a university downtown – my first day was March 9th. The following day, all classes were switched to online… and you can imagine how it has progressed from there.  By the end of the week, my partner and his nephew – a chef and a theatre manager – were laid off from their jobs.
At work, the number of people on campus dwindled, but we kept working in the president’s offices. I started taking pictures as the normally packed downtown/WTC/Brooklyn Bridge area started to empty out.
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The first picture above was included in an NBC news story about empty New York City.
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The above photos were taken at 1pm on Friday 3/13 – I wish I had retaken these angles today because it would have been much more stark, as you can see from the other photos I have taken since then.
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When I got the office today, I was told that we could now work from home, so I won’t be going back for a while. I’m grateful that I still have a job.