IT'S THE PITS...

Victim of circumstance?
You've seen those old movies where someone
is thrown into an insane asylum against their
will? Isolated within that crazed environment
said innocent victim fears they may lose their
mind. However ultimately they adapt to their
circumstances. Become numb to all external
forces. And somehow find a way to survive.
All of which is exactly what's happening here
in America. Confronted by a President who
can at times seem more than a bit CRAZY.
most have shifted into a disenfranchised state
of reluctant acceptance. And nothing could be
worse for us. To be that numb is paralyzing...

Life sentence?
You see it all the time in marriages. A couple
who are obviously wrong for each other still
find a way to stay together. The result being
if nothing else a longterm state of suspended
animation. Neither happy nor sad, each lives
in self imposed purgatory. And sadly have no
idea of what they're missing. That can be the
only excuse for not having sex for... decades!
Then suddenly one or the other finds another
or somebody dies. Only then can half of that
broken combo awaken out of their coma and
rise to new heights. All of which bodes the
question - why are we willing to accept less?

Truth or consequences?
For some such self deprecation is driven
by Jewish or Catholic guilt. Others feel
obligated to deal with their fate no matter
what. A few enjoy the drama that often
accompanies martyrdom. However in the
end such sacrifice benefits nobody. Did
you hear that?! Absolutely NO ONE.
While one might assume doing the right
thing is the best for all involved, it's often
the wrong decision. Thus while misery
may love company, it's unfair to drag the
rest of us down with you. Why should
we suffer YOUR consequences?!

More or less?
Why do we allow others to negatively impact
our chances for happiness? Commitment is a
good thing. However if theres no chance for
happiness, why spend your life in misery?!
In the end we all have to put an end to such
foolishness. Compromise simply for the sake
of detente may be appropriate when it comes
to world powers. However it isn't worth the
inevitable pain or suffering on the home front.
Facing one's enemy across the breakfast or
conference table on a daily basis gets rather
tiresome. Whether one wants to admit it or
not, it's also rarely productive. We all LOSE.

Man overboard?
I'm not telling you to quit your job or get
a divorce. However I am suggesting that
rather than accept less you demand more.
When confronted by disaster, what benefit
is there to staying aboard the Titanic rather
than grabbing a life boat to redemption?
There may some valor and glory gained
via perseverance. But only if what one is
fighting to make the world a better place
for all involved. Which is where politics
comes in. We can't allow the inmates to
continue to run our asylum. After all, the
future of our children lies in the balance...

Wake up call?
There is one point upon which both sides agree.
And that is that politics for politics sake is quite
a futile endeavor. For many Mr. Trump said all
the right things. Draining said swamp amongst
them. Yet now that he's deep in the muck he's
drowning or adapting to his new circumstances.
Like any survivor he's doing whatever it takes
to rise above. All while he's crowing about eight
versus four more years. Is that a fate any of us
are willing to embrace? If not, we've all got to
do more than read the news and weep. We must
pursue happiness. So rather than sleep it off -
IT'S TIME TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!

OUT ON THE TOWN

Order up
As many know, I adore the
occasional drinkie poo. Is
there's anything as civilized
as sitting at a bar and letting
go? I find the conviviality of
cocktails inspires sharing all
sorts of tidbits. Thus a bit of
the brew can stir life's pot.

Join the party
Depending on where one sips
one's immediate circle can be
large or small as local traffic
allows. Camaraderie can be
just as intoxicating as one's
preferred beverage. Therefore
please be careful or you just
might be left holding the tab!

Check in
I adore a venerable hotel bar.
It's like socializing in a good
friend's living room. Plus the
retro vibe of jacketed waiters,
imprinted coasters, swizzle
sticks, and bowls of nuts all
affirm civilization still exists!

Watch out

Bars are rarely the best venue
for a clandestine confab. It's a
small world, especially among
lushes. Many marriages have
ended due to some random
sighting. Hence if you must
misbehave, please rent a room
rather than risk exposure.

Sit still
For years I sat at the same bar
in the same stool, ate the same
meal, ordered the same martini.
It's also safe to assume I told the
same tales to my loyal barkeep.
Being a "regular" brings a sense
of well being that is well worth
whatever one's tab amounts to!

Sing sing
I've been known to enjoy the
occasional show tune. Long
ago I belonged to a club where
every night one could warble
beside the piano as the lyrics
flashed upon the wall above.
While I've never done karaoke,
I'm happy to sing in PRIVATE.

Get down
We've all hit rock bottom. Often
at some suburban basement bar.
Sadly such knotty pine dens of
iniquity no longer exist. Today
it seems that most parties begin
and end around a kitchen island.
CHEERS!

RUNNING ON EMPTY

Home alone
Frank has left me. Well at least until sometime
in the early fall. He has returned to Montana to
tend his garden, care for his Dad, and be where
he truly belongs... HOME. While part of me is
beyond happy that we're able to facilitate a life
that straddles the best of two worlds, I'm beyond
miserable when we're apart. Last night I stayed
at home in a daze. So upset that I didn't want to
drink. Hence I did what comes naturally... I ATE
and ATE and ATE. And before nine o'clock p.m.
I was deep into what can only be described as a
self induced food coma. Thus it's fairly obvious
that I'm in BIG TROUBLE.

Substitue teachers
When distressed we all search for a panacea.
For some that's booze or the shoe department
at Bergdorf Goodman. And occasionally for
a few, the comfort of some stranger. However
my comfort zone inevitably involves comfort
food. Thus nothing makes things better than
a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Even
if it's from a box labeled "Swanson." In theory
anything that satiates the pain is worth any
residual effect. However given I'm already
stretching the boundaries of my plus sized
wardrobe, I can't continue to consider food
my happy place. So how can I resist?!

Scale compensation
You see, I've been through this before. For
ten years Frank and I have maintained our
home base in Montana. Plus a satellite abode
wherever my job required. Overall this dual
habitation works quite well and confirms that
absence makes the heart grow fonder. Yet in
my case being far away from the one I love
also dramatically increases my caloric intake.
And given I've no desire to return to Montana
in a piano box, I must stop eating. Otherwise
even Frank will wonder who that fat man at
the door with a suitcase could possibly be.
Thus this summer it's my season to DIET.

Outer limits
Obviously there are a million ways to skin
a fat cat. As proven by those slim Jim's on
television hawking Nutrisystem for men.
However I've always preferred to eat out
of the box. Thus pre-packaged chemical
laden portions are not for me. Of course
I could eat healthy. However for whatever
reason devouring a ton of tofu and quinoa
still seem to put on the pounds. Especially
those organic vegan coconut macaroons.
The smartest approach is to cut my portions
in half. But that would involve drinking one
Manhattan which is a beyond impossible!

On a roll
What's a temporarily single, lonely, and fat gay
man to do? During this initial transition phase,
absolutely nothing. I plan to enjoy life to it's
fullest through May. My job requires that I'm
frequently on the road - where it's impossible
to diet. I may escape up to Connecticut for a
weekend and eat to my heart's delight. Bestie
"T" and I will celebrate our birthdays. Then I
fly to Montana for the week of Memorial Day.
Once all of that is over, I'll be ready to shift
into reduction mode. Meanwhile my only real
risk is that I may suddenly POP. Which could
involve an errant airborne shirt button...

Profile in courage
My ultimate goal is to become half the man
I now am. Thus I plan to walk everywhere,
eat wisely, drink moderately, and also stop
beating myself up. Sadly there seem to be
few miracles in today's world. Thus I am
going to have to lose the weight one pound
at a time. I'm willing to make sacrifices for
the sake of fitting into those Cucinelli jackets
hanging in my closet back in Montana. This
summer I'll try to put things in perspective
and find a sense of balance. While the odds
may be against me - somehow theres a slim
chance that I'll end up in a better place!

BEST LAID PLANS?

Out of sorts
Impromptu is not the easiest of urges to satisfy
here on the isle of Manhattan. One must plan
ahead in order to get what they want. However
in our constantly churning urban milieu it's
better to be prepared for disappointment rather
than fulfillment. Last night we decided to be
brave and try to dine sans any reservations. So
we walked over to one of our neighborhood
spots which was obviously empty. Devoid of
any patrons, we requested a table for two. Only
to be led to a table in Siberia just adjacent to a
service station. Suggesting an alternative, we
were next seated near the kitchen. Really?!

Neither here nor there
And soon thereafter we exited said premises.
Even when dining here in the Big Apple it's
all about location, location, location. Next
we moved on to another local haunt. Again
there were tables available in the front (best)
room. Yet upon querying about availability,
the Maitre d' picked up the phone.Which is
a sign for any culinary veteran of only one
thing - a table upstairs. Again, we smiled
and turned to leave. Boding his plea "I'm
sure we can accommodate you." To which
I responded, "as I'm certain Bello can also."
And with that we started to walk west...

Repeat engagement
It's times like these that I display more than
a tad of "attitude." While obviously we're
not high rollers within the context of this
metropolis, we certainly pay our own way.
Hence many local restauranteurs are more
than glad to see us walk through their doors.
My challenge is that while I'm certainly a
creature of habit, Frank still has a bit of the
adventurer lurking beneath his polished
demeanor. Thus at times even I am forced
to stretch my culinary boundaries and hunt
for alternatives. Which here in the city that
never sleeps requires that one plan ahead.

Reason to celebrate
Last weekend we celebrated our twenty second
anniversary by dining at a new venue. While I
should have started said search weeks before,
I ended up trolling Open Table on the very day
of. Fortunately I'm an early bird meaning that
prior to dawn I was still able to bag a table at
one of the newer venues. However rather than
being "hot" it has survived long enough to now
offer availability. And have a table opening at
a fairly decent hour. Ultimately we enjoyed a
beyond delightful meal that far surpassed both
our expectations. So much so that I've added
Vaucluse to my list. I'll be back next week.

Over and out
One may be able to teach this old dog a few
new tricks. However my natural inclination
continues to limit my sphere of influence. At
times doing so can be challenging in an ever
changing city. Shifting back to our search
last evening for a meal - post a second rebuff
we arrived at one of our all time favorites. A
neighborhood joint that always has our table
waiting for us along with a cocktail and good
meal. However we soon discovered that said
comfort zone no longer exists. Greeted by
closed grates and a sign stating that post over
three decades Bello had served it's last meal.

Open and shut case
To say that we were heartbroken would be an
understatement. I can still recall when Frank
first dragged me to Fifty Sixth and Ninth and
his latest "discovery." Post a fabulous meal
we returned time and time again. Years ago
"D" and I dined at Bello weekly while Frank
was back in Montana. Recently I introduced
several newbies to my favorite haunt. Then
suddenly, like jilted lovers we were locked
out and left standing on the street. Losing a
friend such as this is akin to a death. Hence
we're deep into mourning. In fact we're in the
denial stage. And all I want is a veal chop.

A la carte
For many reasons Manhattan is a magical place
to live. However it's also quite easy to provide
a list of reasons why living within it's confines
is a hassle. Along with Bello we've lost another
dear companion. "Po" suddenly closed down on
Cornelia Street in the West Village. After over
twenty three years it couldn't survive another
rent increase. Especially one that tripled their
bargain. And so two of our old standbys are no
longer standing. Meaning that now this creature
of habit is left wondering where his next meal
will come from. And whether it will be my last.
It's no wonder that I must have reservations...

Like a bridge over troubled waters

Multiple choice?
I don't understand what all the fuss is about.
People are human beings. Plus genetics deal
each of us a capricious hand. Meaning there
is no pre-ordained cocktail with one recipe
of characteristics. Complex creatures, we're
strong, weak, brave, cowardly, happy, sad,
bad, good. Thus the idea that each and every
one of us must conform to one set of criteria
is foolhardy at best. And yet, some seem to
feel that they are far superior to others. And
that their vision of how others should behave
is the only way. Thus they feel it's necessary
to force the rest of us to adhere to their rules.

Animal instinct?
Sadly most humans are but sheep. Few lack the
bravery to blaze a trail. Hence most sit back and
wait for their leader to tell them where to go or
what to think. The end result of such naivety
depends on the individual in power. As history
has taught us again and again, giving authority
to the wrong person inevitably leads to disaster.
Yet as recent events in Turkey indicate, history
repeats itself. Consider North Korea - why is it
that everybody else worldwide sees their leader
for what he truly is - NUTS?! Yet his followers
stand firmly behind him as he leads them (and
possibly ALL of us) to the brink of extinction.

Send in the clowns?
Here in America we're NOT all that different.
Obviously some of us are lost. That's the only
excuse one can give for the sorry excuse of a
man who now sits in our Oval Office. At least
half of us blithely voted in a confirmed liar as
our Commander In Chief. Yet now even those
who don't support his warped world vision roll
our eyes in defeat rather than battle his tsunami
of backlash. We are not alone. The citizens of
France are wrestling with an election that may
equally fracture it's democracy. Left and right,
conservative or liberal, right or wrong, some
idiot will win. But will they be ours or theirs?

Split decision?
The problem is that in a world of such schisms
we ALL lose. In a dictatorship only those who
at the top win. That also applies to all varieties
of communism du jour. A very few will benefit
while the balance descend lower to a baseline
of mediocrity. Within such a bland context of
commonality breeds a common existence that
is devoid of any dreams, aspirations, or hope.
Whereas in theory within a democracy equality
insures that ALL have an equal opportunity to
thrive, succeed, and pursue happiness. Yet in
America nothing is working to our advantage.
Or is it and we simply don't see the good in it?

Win or lose?
The fact is that in order for someone to win,
somebody else has to lose. While in theory
there is nobility in defeat, few if any enjoy
failure. Therefore our loss inevitably is our
gain. In that it's motivation enough to find
a way to regain whatever we consider to be
rightfully ours - not theirs. The jaded know
that this constant swirl can only lead to one
conclusion. Which is that vengeance fuels
all forms of government whether we admit
it or not. And soon after any leader takes it
all for granted, they inevitably lose all that
they fought to gain. And start all over again.

End of the road?
You see, we all make choices - right or wrong.
In places where evil rules, the meek sit back as
they wait for somebody else to save their asses.
But finding people who can turn such adverse
situations around is more than impossible, So
what am I saying? Simply that it's up to YOU
and ME. Unless we all try to do something, this
mess will only get messier. Meanwhile the odds
that some brave soul will rise up to guide our
collective destiny in the right direction is risky
at best. Theres a reason why we've few heroes.
You see we're all to human... including them.
Therefore it's up to each and every one of US.

Right or wrong?
To be clear - nothing changes overnight. Hence
much like our President, we must all embrace
that nothing of consequence occurs within just
one hundred days. It took years to get us into
this mess. And only the combined efforts of
all involved - both winners and losers - give us
a chance at changing our course of action. We
must try to right the wrongs, shift focus, guide
our destiny. All while knowing that somebody
will lose in the process. That's the way it is. The
question is will success come to the minority or
majority? The thrill of winning is all about what
side you're on. Ready or not, here WE come...

HISTORY IN THE MAKING

Half baked plans
We New Yorkers are a jaded lot. While our tiny
island covers but 23 miles, we tend to stay close
to home. Such provincialism breeds a snobbery
that purposefully defies anything new, different,
or experimental. The worst of said skeptics being
our beloved architectural critics. They seem to
decry anything new as a "disaster." And sadly
some are. For example, when Harry Helmsley
was forced to save the historic Villard Houses
(above) he simply built his Palace Hotel directly
behind them. The result was deemed per the New
York Times "An erect Twinkie standing behind
an elegant Napoleon." How sad... but true...

Under construction
Obviously even Manhattanites make mistakes.
That's the only way to justify the destruction
of Pennsylvania Station in 1963. For whatever
reason our civic and business leaders deemed
it wise to demolish this transportation temple.
Only to replace it with a massive mid century
equivalent of some dark and gloomy catacomb.
Recently I had to meet my kid's train there. I'd
forgotten that it is one of the most offensive of
crimes ever perpetrated on this city. Apparently
there are now plans to transform it back into a
proper portal. But why did it take us over fifty
years to finally atone for the sins of our fathers?

Treasure trove
Fortunately we learn from our mistakes.
When similar plans of destruction were
focused on Grand Central Station in the
mid-seventies, an irate group of citizens
(including Jackie Kennedy) fought to
save this architectural icon. One has only
to walk through it's soaring Grand Hall to
be humbled by their efforts. Such a space
causes one's spirits to soar. Even if one is
running to catch their train, it's architecture
transforms commuting into a noble endeavor.
Sadly such cathedrals of commerce are few
and far between in today's modern world.

Glory and honor
A creature of habit, I resist stepping beyond
my comfort zone. Yesterday Frank forced
me to go down to the tip of this island. As
a boy my Father worked in the area. I still
recall them blasting the bedrock to build
the original World Trade Center. Later we
all mourned it's loss. But I'd never ventured
downtown to see the World Trade Center
Memorial for myself. Gazing deep into the
two marble and water encrusted holes was
a beyond moving experience. However
seeing the area in it's new incarnation was
equally inspiring. What a resurrection!

On the waterfront
Across West Street (in my youth the elevated
Westside Highway) sits the new Brookfield
Place Center. Straddling the river and World
Trade Center, it's a rather dazzling space yet
all too familiar. In truth when within it's walls
one could be in almost any urban mega mall
development. It's only redeeming quality is
the location itself. Attached to the Battery Park
City complex, the mall faces the Hudson and
a network of parks that lines it. Oddly few New
Yorkers interact with our rivers except to cross
them either above or below. What a pleasure it
was to bask in the Hudson's glory. AMAZING.

Path to redemption
As we prepared to take the subway home, we
exited the mall via escalators. Honestly, I had
NO idea of what we were about to experience.
Like most Manhattanites we spend much of
our day underground getting from here to there.
And while the subway is certainly the fastest
way to travel, descending deep into it's filth
and gloom isn't the most pleasant experience.
Therefore we were both more than surprised
at what we found far below the World Trade
Center. At that base level we entered a modern
world that literally took our breath away. Who
knew such wonders were but steps away?!

Flight of fancy
Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava designed
this amazing complex to connect eleven subway
lines plus the Path trains to New Jersey. As we
made our way down it's ribbed passageway we
had no idea what awaited. There at it's heart lies
the "oculus" - an urban cathedral that we were
unprepared for. Akin to Grand Central Station
it is even more inspiring in it's modernity. At
least for this man, it's beautiful majesty moved
me to tears. Designed to capture the spirit of a
white dove, it's been called a "pile of bones" by
some. However trust me, standing within such
a space is well worth the trip FAR downtown.

Of mice and men
Experiences such as this that make me proud
to be a New Yorker. Almost daily I walk past
throngs of tourists taking selfies in front of
Trump Tower. I can't help but look at such
ugly monuments to arrogance with more than
resentment. Thats because I still remember the
beautiful buildings that were destroyed so that
said monstrosities could be built. Fortunately
my faith in mankind is reinforced by urban
developments like the rebirth of the World
Trade Center. While certainly not perfect, at
least they aspire to inspire the populace in
ways that benefit ALL - not the greedy few.