The Gherkin

The Gherkin I

When looking up, one sees an erotically enticing, phallus standing erect.  This shaft is a desirable enhancement against an archaic backdrop of battlements. The cylindrically sensual construct penetrates the city, emerging through layers and folds of flesh.  Smothered in a sexual glaze, this delectable gherkin arouses the appetite and emanates pleasure through its steel pores. Its thick base and slender tip provide for an orgy of interplay for all its clients. This entity is a potent, stroking member whose upright position awakens the senses and imagination of its partners.  It evokes desire, readiness and longing. Increasing in size against the landscape, it throbs against the city skyline.



drabble- n.  a story written in exactly 100 words.

Image courtesy of Castle Galleries, artist- Louis Sidoli

Rhythm of the City

Rhythm of the City

Mind racing. Heart thumping. Rhythms pacing. Music bumping.
Horns blowing. People walking.  Litter flowing.  Shoppers talking.
Taxis zooming.  Buildings rising.  Business booming.  Fashion sizing.
Lights blaring.  Shoes tapping.  Passers staring.  Awnings flapping.
Papers flying. Fires stoking.  Babies crying.  Poultry smoking.
Dogs pooping.  Children playing.  Seniors stooping.  Parents praying.
Meters running. Trucks parking.  Cops cunning.  Drivers barking.
Bikers peddling. Traffic moving.  Vendors meddling.  Dancers grooving.
Singles moping.  Couples holding.  Lovers groping.  Marriages molding.
Card sharks shaking.   Stocks falling.  No money making.  Sellers calling.
Liquors flowing.  No one’s buying.  Discontent’s sowing. People dying.
This is the pulse racing Rhythm of my city.








drabble- n.  a story written in exactly 100 words.
Image courtesy of Castle Galleries, artist- Paul Kenton.

The Versatile Blogger Award Goes To . . .

I was so graciously awarded The Versatile Blogger Award by Rayna M. Iyer and Jan Morrison.  Please check out their blogs.  They are fabulous writers and so much fun to hang out with.

As tradition dictates, I am supposed to reveal seven things about me.  So, here we go:

1. I am one of 17 grandchildren (big family), not to mention that these grandchildren have a total of 22 great grandchildren.
2. I have three beautiful children- Justin (16- Dear God, help me), Ayanna (14- ditto), and Zionne (7- my princess).
3. I manage the inclusion program (special education students in a general education environment) at a NYC high school.
4. I love to swim but rarely get an opportunity to go except during the summer.  :(
5. We are going to Disney later this summer (excited!).
6. I love art (Impressionism, Surrealism, and all its many forms).
7. I am Puerto Rican but have only had the opportunity to visit the island twice (once in the late 80's as a teen and in 2002 on my honeymoon with my wonderfully romantic and caring husband).

Next is to award this to several new recipients:

Hart Johnson- for her Nakedness and World Domination
Cruella Collett- for her Digressionisms
Tara Smith- for her procrastination, plus dithering and dathering.
365 Days of People- for being so observant and poignantly funny with sarcasm.
Becky's Book Reviews- for covering such a wide variety of books.
The WM Freelance Writers Connection- for having such wonderful ideas and being so supportive of Writing Mommies.
And because everyone else who I was to award this to has already received it, I will end there.

Thank you Rayna and Jan!

Burrow, Books and Balderdash

I am part of a wonderfully supportive group of writers known as The Burrow.  I never considered being writer.  Some negative and irrational beliefs hindered me for many years to come.


However, the Cafe Steinbeck nurtured what they deemed to be the beginnings of an author.  I am so grateful to Serafina Graham, Jason Drake and Rayna Iyer for believing in me.  I want to also thank Cruella Collett, Leanne Rabessa, Hart Johnson and last but not least Tara Smith.  You have all helped through the ups, the downs and the in-betweens.


Come check us out.  You won't be disappointed.
 
http://burrowers.blogspot.com/

drabble- n. a story told in exactly 100 words.

Very Van Gogh

Very Van Gogh

-oh my god.  these are the pictures made by that man that cut off his ear.

-well, what did he do a thing like that for?

-my mom says that he did it to feel pain or sad or something. 

-that is wicked cool.  i mean to just cut yourself like that and not be scared.  he is really brilliant. i like this van gogh guy.  think we can be like him?

-nah, i’m not cutting my ear off. plus, he’s dead. 

-come on.  let's go see his other pictures. i wonder if mom will buy one?
-he is awesome!

drabble- n. a story told in exactly 100 words

Image courtesy of Castle Galleries, artist- John Wilson.



Come see us at the Burrow-  http://burrowers.blogspot.com/2010/07/intro-bunowrimo-summary.html

On Being American

Yesterday as I was in Faber Park celebrating my daughter's seventh birthday, I looked around and admired the diversity of cultural backgrounds.  There were Mexican-Americans, African-Americans,  Dominican- American (from the Dominican Republic) and my family is Puerto Rican (American).  I am not sure if it needs a hyphen or parentheses since most of us who are of Puerto Rican descent just call ourselves "Puerto Rican."

It's strange because almost everyone I know will define their cultural background with a hyphen.  There are Italian- Americans, Irish- Americans, Polish- Americans, Russian- Americans, etc.  The list goes on and on.  I don't know a singe individual who identifies him or herself as just plain "American."  Don't get me wrong.  This is a great tribute to the "melting pot."  I find it amazing that so many different cultures could live in one place. What perturbs me is that we need a hyphen at all.  If we are all American, why is then that we differentiate ourselves with the hyphen.  Is this the governments way of political correctness or is it a way to separate us from the rest of the flock?  I'm still wondering about this and will probably post on just this topic.

However, as it is Sunday morning and I have not had my coffee yet, I will go off on a tangent.  Growing up in the Bronx was a balancing act when thinking of nationality and ethnicity.  On the census form, for Race, there are only a few limited options, in which I fall into none of those categories.  I am not Caucasian, Black or Mongoloid.  Now ethnicity is a different story.  Here my culture is recognized so I check the box "Puerto Rican."  This is just one example.  Next example of the tightrope act was education.  I was forced to take an ESL exam (English as a Second Language), although through my speech and writing, it was evident that I had a clear command of the language.  It was assumed that because my last name was of Hispanic descent, that I did not know English. 

It was also a little weird that I had to balance the best of both worlds.  Puerto Ricans have their own culture, customs, language, music, and food.  The United States, or New York City in my case (as a child I had a very narrow view of the world), has their own culture and customs.  I had to find the best in both and somehow blend them so that I wouldn't lose my "Puerto Rican" identity and not sacrifice my "American" identity. 

When listening to my grandmother, I realize that I didn't have it so rough.  During the 1950's, it was really rough in Brooklyn when my grandparents migrated from Puerto Rico. My grandmother tells me some pretty horrible stories of how she was treated at her factory job, in her neighborhood and the local stores. She was called names with negative racial connotations and discriminated against at places of employment. I thank her for these stories as I realize I really don't have it so bad.

So where are we.  Well, I'm still on the fence about the hyphen in identity associated with "American."  I am not sure if Puerto Rican American or just plain Puerto Rican applies to me and the world doesn't seem like such a horrible place. 

For those of you who live in the United States, what are you views on being American?  For those of you who don't live in the United States, how does your country view Americans?

Happy 4th of July America!

First two images taken from Wikimedia Commons and are free of copyright.

Final image courtesy of Zac Allen, http://www.flickr.com/photos/47264866@N00/3683040307/ Fireworks!

Obesity

World View

This is a very sensitive topic for me since I am what some people would call "morbidly obese." I am 255 lbs at 5 feet 2 inches.  Dear God, I can't believe I'm posting this but I really want people to understand what it is like for an individual who is overweight in a world that accommodates everyone from people with disabilities to people with different sexual orientations.  On the sidewalks, in New York City, there are bumps to let a blind person know that they are at the curb.  On the corners, the sidewalk declines into the street area to accommodate wheelchairs or the elderly who have difficulty walking.  The traffic lights accommodate those who have dyslexia, cannot read or do not know the English language by using pictures to indicate when to walk or when to wait.

Please do not misunderstand me.  As a special education teacher, I am happy that the world is finally accommodating those with disabilities.  It's been a long time coming.  Thirty years, that is.  I am only stating that I can't think of one accommodation that is made for people with a weight problem.

How We See Obesity

What I really find amazing is that people see obesity as something that can be easily cured.   "Just exercise and eat right, the weight will come right off!"  This is true for most of us who are overweight but not for all of us.  There are some individuals with thyroid conditions.  These people can exercise until their limbs fall off and they will still overweight.

There are others who react differently to all the processed foods available in supermarkets.  These items contain preservatives, excessive amounts of salt and some of the meat in our supermarket freezers contain hormones which are used to add bulk to the animal before consumption.  Genetics also play a part in obesity.  If your parents and grandparents are obese, chances are that you will be too.

Other comments made are at the expense of a good laugh.  What comedian wouldn't pass up a prime opportunity to get a guaranteed laugh?  As someone who loves comedies, I often find myself wondering, "Is this really how people see me? Do they smile in my face and laugh behind my back?" 


How I See Myself

Do you know how embarrassing it is to get on an airplane and the seat belt doesn't quite fit?  It is even more embarrassing when asking the flight attendant for a seat belt extender.  And of course, thanks to the economic crisis, no seat belt extenders are available.  You must purchase them online I suppose.

Have you ever been to an amusement park like Six Flags Great Adventure with your children and you go to get on the ride but the safety bar doesn't reach all the way to your lap?  This is what it is like for me.  I had to ask my friend to ride with my daughter. I had to watch from the ground with tears in my eyes because not only was I ashamed but was deprived of a precious memory with my little one. 

I have considered getting a gastric bypass or the Lap Band.  The jury is still out on that one.  I am really not sure of the after effects, plus the costs of upkeep.   That is another post altogether.

So next time, you pass an individual who is overweight, please don't judge.  That person just might be me.

The Million Dollar Park

It is funny how a single object could bring back such vivid memories. I was driving home from work today and I passed "The Million Dollar Park" which is sort of like an inside joke to my family. The park is actually named Nicholas Lia Memorial Park and is located in Staten Island, NY (one of NYC's boroughs).

My brother, Gilbert Orlando Gadson II, has always been in trouble. At the age of two, he drank my hair dye. Yes, I said hair dye. At the age of five, he stole donuts from his kindergarten teacher. That is another post altogether. At the age of 14, he had been suspended from school so many times, we thought he was going to be home-schooled. Gilbert was the sort of kid that got into trouble but you just couldn't help but love him. He had such a kind heart. If anyone in the family needed him, he was there.

But I digress . . . Gilbert was about 13 or 14 years old when I lived in my aunt's house. I lived in the upstairs rooms (two bedrooms and a bathroom) and my aunt had the downstairs rooms (three bedrooms, bathroom, living room and kitchen). One week, my aunt noticed that she had twenty dollars missing. The following week, my uncle noticed that he had money missing. The third week, I was missing money. We knew that there was a thief in the house but we just didn't know who it could possibly be.

One day, shortly after I was missing money, my cousin tells my aunt that he saw Gilbert with money. My cousin asked Gilbert, "Where did you get the money?" Gilbert replied,"In the park. It was on the sidewalk near the grass." My cousin, being curious, followed Gilbert. He said that Gilbert dug up the soil near the bushes in the park and "found" several twenty dollar bills. My cousin then proceeded in telling my aunt and myself. We confronted Gilbert and with an Academy Award nomination, he cried tears and professed that he did not take our money. He adamantly stated that he found the money. This was our reply, " So what now you're finding money in million dollar parks. Where is this park? I need some money right now." Hence, the park's name.

Now that I reflect on that gut-wrenching scene, I realize that I would rather have my brother here and stealing from me than gone resting in an urn in my sister's home.


I love you, hermanito.

Just When You Thought You Knew Somebody

Sometimes we think we know our kids. We raise them, live with them and talk to them frequently. However, sometimes your kid will make a comment that really gets you thinking, "Well maybe I don't know them so well."

Now let me put this into context for you. I am sitting at the kitchen table with my friend discussing my three children and their various achievements. We begin talking about my 13 year old being in the Junior ARISTA society, prom, graduation and her good grades. I was under the impression that I treated all of my children equally. However, my 15 year old son made a comment that surprised me. "Oh yeah, talk about the starchild." He gets up, with his head hanging down, and leaves the room.

I was shocked. These words nearly broke my heart. As a mother, you don't want your children feeling like the ugly duckling. It occurred to me that perhaps, I don't give him enough attention or the praise he deserves. Its not that I think he is a "trouble maker" (as he views himself). I just feel that he has made some bad choices in the past and is now paying the consequences of those actions. But that is beside the point. I now see that perhaps my son feels that the girls take up all of my attention.

Similarly, I noticed that in my writing, sometimes a character may not receive the attention to detail that they deserve. Peripheral characters truly support and provide a background for our main characters. During revision, I plan to polish some of these characters so that they not only provide a backbone for the main character but also coherently solidify the potholes in the storyline.

Course of action- give my son more one on one attention where just he and I are conversing about anything he chooses. No, this will not happen every single day but I have set aside some quality time. Let's see how it works.

Routines

Routines. This is a concept I have tried to drill into my students. Often, every morning in study hall, you will hear this conversation:

"Okay, take out your homework from yesterday so we can go over it."

The random groan will be heard from those who have not one assignment done. From those who completed "something" you may hear a shuffling of papers.

"Ms. P., I didn't do my homework."

"Why didn't you do your homework?"

A number of excuses will be used, such as "I didn't have a pen," or my personal favorite, "I had my friends over and we played some games on the PS3." I am just happy none of them have used the "I was with my girl/boyfriend." That would probably send me over the top.

I respond, "Do any of you go home and do homework as soon as you enter your house? No. You probably went home. Threw your bookbag on the couch, or the corner in your room or hung it up in the closet. You then did not look at your bookbag until this morning when you left for school. Am I correct?"

This is where the students giggle, look to the side or say, "Yup."


Of course this would follow: "You guys have got to set up a routine at home that incorporates homework. When you get home, take 30 minutes to do whatever you need to do. Use the bathroom, eat a snack, bother your sister or brother. But once that half hour is done, you need to hit the books. Get homework and all studying out of the way. Then you can do whatever it is you choose to do- video games, TV, chores and anything else under the sun."

Did they listen? I can only hope. We'll see tomorrow.

I am one of those individual who needs structure and routine in all areas of my life including my writing. I found that I haven't been "walking the walk," so to speak. I've been running around and not really making "To Do Lists" or creating a routine that is easily followed. I haven't broken down my life into manageable chunks. I also haven't applied this to my writing. Yes, I have been more active with my writer's group but the activity is for review of their work, not my own. So, I am creating a schedule/ routine that will hopefully be more manageable and productive to my writing- starting with this blog. Let's see how it works.