Photo Credit — Franco Folini / Wikimedia Commons

I had to look it up to confirm that, yes, indeed there is a traditional Jewish morning blessing that thanks G-d “who has not made me a woman.” Things change but I can understand this sentiment being shared robustly in a society where women were little more than brood cattle confined to propagating the species and changing their diapers.

This is no longer the case in much of the world (sadly, not all the world, however).

My own personal moment of daily gratitude comes as I reflect on all the ways in which my options in life and my emotional…

Photo Credits — Remington Write

There are a couple of taglines fighting for primacy these days in New York. Which one is winning depends on where you live and how well — or poorly — you came through the past year.

To the kids raving in Washington Square Park or in warehouses in Bushwick, the clear winner is New York is BACK!

To the guy who got stabbed on our subway platform last week the more apt tagline is The Seventies are BACK!

Judging from some of the graffiti I’m seeing around the city, I’m wondering exactly what version of New York City is coming…

Digital Montage designed by AleXander Hirka / Used with permission / “Meditation” — Francesco Hayez

Welp, the geniuses at the CDC have spoken. Again. It’s hard to tell how much credence to give these “experts”, however. You’ll recall that these are the same Einsteins who told us not to wear masks last April as our friend, the virus, was really getting up a good head of steam.

Then they coughed into their masks and corrected themselves.

Yes, people, yes yes yes do wear masks. But not to protect yourselves because it doesn’t work that way. Do it to protect those around you in case you’re infected.

We all remember how well that went over (you…

Photo Credit -PINKE / Flickr

I don’t recall ever having an actual Barbie doll. When we reached fashion-doll age my little sister and I got the cheaper knock-offs: Tammy and Pepper. Until Aunt Pearl brought us boxes and boxes of fabric my idea of playing dolls was to color their faces with crayons and stick pins in their ears. But those magical boxes of fabric changed all that.

We immediately took our dolls, scissors, thread and needle and went to town. We’d fold whichever piece of fabric looked the most wonderful in half and trace around the dolls’ bodies to get our pattern. By trial…

Photo Credit — AleXander Hirka / Used with permission

It didn’t cool down much last night so when I woke this morning I felt heavy, a little nauseous, and filled with dread. And I couldn’t remember what day it was. Ok, right, that’s totally a pandemic thing we all know about but even after thinking for a minute I still wasn’t sure if it was Monday or Tuesday.

The dread bit? Oh, right. I’d forgotten that that’s always how I feel when the really hot weather hits.

So we’ve established that it’s Monday (it is Monday, right?). Once I was up I began pinballing — in extremely slow motion…

Photo Credit — edward stojakovic / Flickr

Hooooo, am I glad I resisted the urge to do a victory lap around my computer last month when our overlords deigned to drop that first $500 bonus into my Stripe account. At first, I was sure it was some kind of mistake or scam but then when it became apparent it was real I sat back and let the other golden ones scamper about, crowing and earnestly analyzing what they’d done right.

I was keenly aware that had I not been one of the lucky ones I’d have been really pissed off.

Am I now really pissed off?


Photo Credit — Lewis Hulbert / Wikimedia Commons

I just walked over to a neighbor’s to get his keys. I’ll be feeding his cats while he’s out of town this weekend and on the walk home, through Central Park in a light rain, I watched a particularly beautiful pigeon pecking around in the grass.

The feathers on this pigeon’s back formed an iridescent stained glass pattern. It was bewitching to watch the light change on those feathers.

And then the thought pinged into the front of my head: that pigeon will never know how beautiful its own back is. Throughout that pigeon’s short life it may experience many…

Photo Credit — Remington Write / Because who wouldn’t want to buy their crypto in a corner store at Varick and West Houston in NYC?

I am not an early adapter. Of anything. It’s a wonder I don’t still have a boot button hook around here somewhere.

Call me Lady Analog and hand me that dial-up modem.

Let the record show, however, that I’m also not some crusty old Luddite who is still using AOL. My partner is more technologically savvy than I am but, hey, I’ve got the computer and the smartphone. I have a seldom-used blog and am working with a digital sherpa to develop a website with the intention of having a place where my work can live independent of this or…

Photo Credits — Remington Write / The view from inside the UPS Store on West 110th Street

My daily 6,000 steps take me to some fascinating places. And when I get home from my daily — or nightly — walking I find that amazing photographs have magically appeared on my phone. It’s mind-boggling.

Photo Credit — Remington Write

I get it. I do it, too. Blame everything around me for the ongoing fact that I can reliably count on eight people to read anything I write online. Ok, fifteen on a good day.

Here are my go-to theories about why I’m “failing” at this online writing dance:

  • The algorithm
  • That my smart, intelligent, thought-provoking writing loses out to listicles and lame retreads of dumb advice
  • People are stupid
  • That the editors bury my work because, well just because
  • Planetary alignment
  • It’s Monday

Or Wednesday or whatever.

What I don’t want to admit is that no matter how hard…

Remington Write

Writing because I can’t not write.

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