Should've Been in Love

Pequena in Fort Greene

Friday, the 13th, just a few short days before the rug was entirely pulled out from underneath this town I decided it was a good idea to take a read of the neighborhood by visiting a local eatery, Pequena here in Fort Greene.  I've always found it much easier to discuss hard truths over a platter of Mexican food.  Even though some changes were already announced, I was still schlepping to work on my bike, working in a heavy-trafficked retail environment without protection.  We needed to state our plans, worries and needs to go forward.  We felt an even bigger wave coming, so it was good to say things out loud. People are always talking about game changers, well this most definitely qualified. 

Enchilada plate, rojas and verde

Tres taco platter, chicken, pork and mushroom

pico and chili dusted chips

Not the first flowers of spring but most interesting

A week later now on the 22nd, check-ins with married couples are similar. Everyone is doing their best not to take their vintage cast iron pan to the head's of their spouse. We may need to temporarily suspend domestic violence laws along with alternate side parking. This will become a challenge of the wits.  We've always isolated, even from each other so we're starting out in our comfort zone.  The inability to leave though, I describe as how a cat reacts to shut doors.  They may have stayed on the bed all day given the choice but as soon as you shut that door they become obsessed with escaping and that quickly turns to panic.  I have a bit of that going on but this is when living in the present is really coming in handy.  When you don't allow that horrid future picture in, the present is pretty incredible lately.  Having all day long to write, listen to music, watch documentaries, eat, text, talk to people.  I mean especially for Americans as we're not great at taking time to be in the moment.  With all my layers of Catholic guilt, it's a dream to have my job send me a text to say I must stay in.  I've been in soccer pants since Tuesday!  

Seconds later, the mind takes over, you blink and you're blue.  Your brain becomes a toddler, a constant flow of nagging thoughts and doom scenarios. Shutting it off requires the patience of a saint, or a mother.  Spring is here and we're missing it!, my mind shouts.  I see the magnolia trees are blooming even without anyone there to admire them, it goes on.  Do trees feel sad? Before breathing deeply, which is like putting my mind on sleep mode, I tell it the blooms are a reminder that today's troubles are enough for the day.  Now shut the fuck up!

Bring 'Em All In

Trigger warning: Awkward girl tries to explain herself below

Enchilada Platter from Pequena in Fort Greene

In the end the joke was on me because Latin Heritage Month is in September but I could have sworn it was in June.

At a Mexican restaurant recently I went on about how the gays not only stole my Cinco de Mayo celebration at work, but they took over the whole darn month of June, which I thought was when we celebrated Hispanic heritage.  Overall, I was a little short with the whole gay spectrum and I was trying to understand why.  At first I figured it was because they had the gall to celebrate an entire month when most groups barely get recognized for their one day (I also didn't realize it was the 50th Anniversary of Stonewall).  I have this same reaction with people that claim entire birthday months.  This is unusual for me though because I have big love for homosexuals. I have always seen their struggle and frankly in my youth I thought they were way more interesting than straights 99% of the time.  But now I admire good character in individuals regardless of who you're schtooping. So I broadened my spectrum.  I'm all for everyone having the right to get married, and equal benefits, access to needed support and care. Of course we should have all of that.  I certainly see the huge steps the world needed to take from the 1980's to now for the LGBT community, absolutely.  But I was feeling somewhat pressed this year, in 2019.  I struggled to see what they could still possibly want.   What I mean is sometimes I see us all in lines like at the DMV and in those lines we have our Blacks, Asians, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, Whites, Women, overweight people, soldiers, poor whites, uneducated whites, Jews, the 99%, Midwesterners, Southerners, Refugees, Immigrants and the line really goes on quite a ways.  In other words ALL of the other oppressed and suppressed groups.  And so the next number comes flashing up on the screen and who keeps getting to go from the same line?  The gay activists! This is the way it feels to me anyway.  I like things to be fair.  I totally see there are big issues but they exist for many people in many forms and shouldn't we prioritize based on the urgency?

We are in a strange time where I struggle to understand if our improvements are positive or ridiculous. Sometimes it feels we've been completely turned around and shaken off our axis.  We've been completely distracted with this fight between parties, where every topic is politicized.  It reminds me of how in families oftentimes we despise the one who we are most similar.  The far right and the far left are not so different suddenly.  We've taken truth and reason out of the discussion.  But truth is a funny thing because it's like lemons, it can cut through just about anything and come out clean.

speaking of lemons, a delicious lemon seltzer with scoops of lemon sherbet, super refreshing! 

You never know what will surface with all this muddling.  People seem to be searching out and finding more critical thinkers that are having unmediated, long form discussions without the influence of corporate branding.  And these folks are willing to dish out but also take truth from both sides of the argument.  A proper discussion, how refreshing.

Another positive thing surfacing from all of this is instead of regurgitating trusted news source rhetoric the every day Joe's are challenging each other to form their own unique viewpoints around these complex subjects.  It's not enough anymore to come armed to lunches with friends quoting articles because we all have access to the same bullshit. It's time to have your own thoughts again.

So I was corrected the other day on my use of the current and ever growing acronym of LGBTQIA+.  They added an I&A plus a '+', which is; "Not just a mathematical symbol anymore, but a denotation of everything on the gender and sexuality spectrum that letters and words can’t yet describe".  New York Times.  Someone must have yelled Infinity!  Why add so much specific terminology on descriptions so personalized?

Gah!!! Honestly, wouldn't the gays be the first ones to call complete bullshit on all of this if the straights were to start charting up all these Scattergories???  I'm sure there are just as many ways to identify in the NON-LGBTQIA+ spectrum.  And don't we all bounce around a lot in expression?  Where is the science in all of this?  How are we abandoning that humans are only male or female or a version of something in between?   This just feels very fast moving to me.  And maybe this isn't the radical lefts doing but I'm still shell shocked from the masses making such swift moves on the condemnation of all the men that behaved badly recently.  How they took everything away and marked them forever bad without any proper legal means.  That hit like a tornado.

If we accept that someone is not male or female legally, then identity is fluid for everything.  Where could you then draw the line?  Age and race would then be subjective.  How could we manage that within our structures financially or otherwise? Someone is suing right now and it's not the first case. Not kidding.  What if you don't feel like being white any longer and prefer to identify as black.  How is this any different?   Who's rights are more valid?  I feel more 14 than most 14 year olds I know.

And if you think this is not going to be an issue and people are making too big a deal, consider that in Canada if your little girl starts claiming she's a boy and you don't take her to begin counseling for transition, she can be taken away from you.  And there are a lot of those little gems that I had no idea were already laws.  I see wording sneaked into our harassment training, 'even if the person perceives something as....dot, dot, dot.  Companies are financially liable if a worker does something that could be conceived as disrespectful, even implied.   Of course this is making companies so fearful that they're trying to get ahead of the curve putting in policies to save their ass and operating out of fear. Now you must do things that I would have been happy if asked but when you enforce a policy, I don't support that.  I back up not allowing racial or slurs of any kind, that's obvious.  But how is making me call someone xyr rational?  I can't get my company to call me by my preferred nickname which is only a shorter version.  But I could get fired by not using a made up pronoun and be faced with a $250,000 fine.

At work we had a whole company policy and shift in the way we could grammatically address a group of new hires, some in order to protect their right to identify as non-binary people.  I'm not yet down with non-binary as a term recognized by laws and government. With the people I have no problem.  I'm very pro self expression of any kind.  I think the science should be there though in order to declare yourself another human specimen.  I do want better lives for transgender folks I'm just afraid we're not staying reasonable. As a matter of fact, I am so happy to learn of parents and schools not pushing binary toys and letting the lines blur as they will for kids.  I've been on the pink princess hating bus for years.  I never liked that we guided kids to certain types of toys.  I loved going into my dads tool shed and pounding nails and building stuff, getting dirty and running like a wild dog in the woods but I also loved fashion and my sister and I would draw out wardrobes for the next semester year in grade school.

At a home furnishing store you would expect to find lots of gay men and they are represented but the number of women has grown by leaps and bounds in the last year.  Not only your garden variety lesbians but gender fluid, gender non-conforming, non-binary, trans, gender neutral and its been interesting to have this new evolution happen so quickly.  I feel a bigger connection.  If indeed it's true that 40% of the transgender community attempts suicide and that number is only 4% for straights, I want to listen because those are drastic emergency level numbers.  I think people are ready to have humane discussions outside of our political leanings that could be resolved without the government.  But that requires respectful honesty.  I think some liberals are operating solely on empathy.  Sometimes you have to tell people they're full of shit. That's something I actually learned from my gay friends.

I think we can support, respect and give credit when its due and stay clearheaded.  Just because you're gay doesn't make you a hero.  The real heroes in the community were the men and women in the 70s, early 80s, the thousands who took beatings and constant jabs throughout every facet of their lives but still stayed true to themselves.  Yes people still get violated but so do blacks, women, Mexicans, short people, nerds, etc.  Americans are cruel motherfuckers.  It's a horrible reality.  If you come out today, good on you and for real.  I'm just saying social media puts people on pedestals for the wrong reasons.

The truth is I like all of the new theys much better then all the other Cis hes and shes at work because they're different and I feel more connected to different.  But in the end, I'm much more concerned with identifying as cool, humble, kind individuals seeking to work because I'm old like that now.  My problem was never with the thems but the lawmakers and the radicals who took it way the fuck too far, too soon and put the money and pushed the bills to create all this unnecessary distinction without proper consideration for how it affects everyone, businesses, parents, schools, etc.  In their rush to save the world, I feel it's created its own new set of problems and division.

I am not yet equipped to counter the argument that we don't need to acknowledge up to 31 different protected genders in New York, several of which are not actual genders but expressions thereof.  See 'priorities'.  But by the way here they are and I am keeping my lips tight when I read that 6, 7 & 10, 11 differ only in abbreviations. Don't get me started on the definition of gender-gifted:

1. Bi-gendered
2. Cross-dresser
3. Drag King
4. Drag Queen
5. Femme Queen
6. Female-to-Male
7. FTM
8. Gender Bender
9. Genderqueer
10. Male-to-Female
11. MTF
12. Non-Op
13. HIJRA
14. Pangender
15. Transexual/Transsexual
16. Trans Person
17. Woman
18. Man
19. Butch
20. Two-Spirit
21. Trans
22. Agender
23. Third Sex
24. Gender Fluid
25. Non-Binary Transgender
26. Androgyne
27. Gender Gifted
28. Gender Blender
29. Femme
30. Person of Transgender Experience
31. Androgynous

One would think the easier but turns out just as serious subject is the laws are such that you must address these new genders by a plethora of new pronouns, some words new to anyone on the planet.  How did we get here so quickly?  I sat and watched about 30 Ted Talks with people unwrapping this topic for us Cis folk. Could that term be anymore abhorrent by the way?  It sounds like a soulless clone born out of a laboratory.   After watching various transgenders describe gender identification and pronouns as if its nothing out of the ordinary and how we should just abide by their wishes and if you screw up then apologize quickly and move on.  Okay, so far I don't follow on the actual gender descriptions, I see them more of expressions, and as far as the pronouns, they, them, sure no problem.  But then it keeps going and they explain the list may grow to whatever (currently we have 56).  Respectfully, there should be a middle ground here.  I'm not so concerned about grammar, although that's also hard to change, as I am opposed to being force fed some new behavior.  Like I said, logic has to play in.  I can definitely get the link between identifying yourself and feeling respected. One separate pronoun is reasonable and easy enough for folks to adapt.  In Sweden they say 'Hen' to describe gender neutral as opposed to Han or Hon.  My bud suggested some are using 'friend' which I love! I don't like guilt tripping people by citing Cis privilege though.  Just because you're labeled straight doesn't mean you're free from oppression.  These are very complicated concepts and I don't think it's fair to expect everyone to just hop on board without proper discussion.

My question is will all this new language and categorizing truly make the situation any better or widen the division gap?  Time will tell when the chromosomes settle.

A quick last thought: I had an amazing therapist in my 20's and she once told me one of the hardest things for me will be to realize that I am much more like other people than my fear of being so different.  It was a huge bombshell for me.  Sometimes I feel like all this division from the 'norm' is coming out of hurt, anger and rebellion, as well as preference.   Dividing us up further especially legally is a sad way to deal with this opportunity to come together individually to see that everyone is always many things.

How Lovely Are Thy Branches

Mission:  Christmas Tree

Pequena breakfast in Fort Greene. Chicken Verde Chilaquiles and Western scramble.  Lots of coffee.  So much coffee.

A spicy poach broth for my chicken breasts that night made them juicy and perky sliced over chile lime pinto beans, peppers, avocado, cilantro and homemade chipotle hot sauce.

Buying Christmas trees in Brooklyn.  They make it ridiculously easy.  We chose a nice spruce.  Oh they bend you over for them but it smells up the whole house and we get to see the hipster guy put it through that cool tie thingy. Picking and deciding, it's all a very traditional joy that somehow we have made a part of our holiday.  But each year I feel worse about cutting down a real tree, even though they grow them for this exact purpose. This is someone's livelihood I tell myself.  It's not like it would grow out it's years in the Catskills or anything.  It is only living for this one function.  And that mission is kind of beautiful.  A Christmas tree. Like he knows he will be loved and adorned and proudly displayed in someone's warm home when he grows up. Not before chopping his root nuts off but still.  

But it is a living thing.  Is this the same as breeding chickens in an enclosed pen without windows only to become someone's dinner? In some ways it seems more fair this way.  You're not taking any luxury from them.  They never know comfort. But to realize green grass and sunny blue skies, like the free range birds then to find it always ends in a harsh sudden death...how cruel.  People like me get caught up in the psych-science because if you buy into chicken's having capacity to love and feel, then why wouldn't a piece of broccoli have similar traits? Isn't it relative?  Do organs make the difference?  Does blood running through veins provide feelings?  Roots know how to survive, choke competitors and ensure future growth without any of those things.  Does all life matter? We can't yet comprehend the complexity and value of it in full.  So sometimes I think it's not what you do but how you do it that may matter in the end.

At least that's what I tell myself. 

I loved my tree this year so much.  I dressed it all up and lit it every night. 

Never You MInd, So Go On and Have a Good Time

Saturday Brunch with visiting brother in law.  Discussing movie making, Trump lawns across the Midwest, current music obsessions, family and the life of a traveling salesman slash mushroom farmer.

Chilaquiles Verdes and what I call extreme pleasure and satisfaction at Pequena Fort Greene.  Even though it included a live action scene of a neighbor off his meds being escorted by fireman to safety after he finished his breakfast burrito mind you and ranted for way too long and loudly in earshot to be ignored.  We all agreed that it was 'so sad' when the waitress said he was usually fine..... except when he drank.  Each taking a moment to realize that was all of us at that table. haa haa.

P had the Desayuno Mexicano with chorizo.

A bromance unfolding.  The bad jokes, the dirty Catholic humor that only two rotten souls could produce.  It's all so heartwarming.

Not as cute later in the evening when you feel like you're turning into Michelle Williams in Manchester by the Sea

Dinner at Black Forest Brooklyn Schnitzel and the Wurst Special.

Maybe I'm Amazed at the Way You're With Me All the Time

I spent the whole morning watching video footage around Michael Jackson.  Either of him or of Lisa Marie, Janet, Debbie Rowe, the Oprah Interviews, etc.  We are coming up soon on the anniversary of his death.
Let me share, that I love to talk about Michael Jackson.  Honestly, I could talk all day about him. I certainly am not obsessed by any stretch.   But I grew up with the Jackson Five's music and I do believe he was an incredible talent, maybe one of the most talented all around that we'll see in his genre.  I know that as fact but I didn't grow up thinking much else about him on a regular basis.  Who couldn't notice if you were of a particular age though?  Motown, The Jacksons. That's required music. His first solo efforts were up there with the moon landing. Not to be ignored. I was a rocker girl but coming from the Midwest, you had to have and understand your rhythm and blues roots first and foremost
The whole nation saw his entire child into adulthood and beyond.  He truly was the King of Pop.  Sad that it had to be almost a self made title.   And I actually think he was one of the most bizarre of all that we call celebrity. Not to say that his oddities were something to admire.  But you can't say he was just some kid. No, you barely think of him as our own species.  I respect his artistry a great deal, his musicianship. His dancing abilities were phenomenal to anyone's standards.  His understanding of the rhythm and the beats of a song and it's flow, the tiny pauses in between, the movement.  It was his God given talent.
As a human being on the planet, I seen him as a walking social experiment.  Someone to monitor and study.  As a country, we almost created him.  In some ways that's true.  He's a rare bird, or a visiting alien.  A one of a kind. Like Bob Dylan or Elvis Presley, we won't get another one of him.  And now he's gone, tragically.  It is sad also to have his death shrouded in mysteries and questions.  He left these beautiful nutty regular looking kids that we're all sorta looking at, me not being able to wait until they get old enough to start really sharing stories. That little Blanket looks like he has some things to say doesn't he?  He's been paying attention with those big eyes you can bet on that!
On the other hand, I almost don't want to know anything more that's any stranger than what we already do or suspect.  I have several theories on the subject of his changing persona's.  Who's the real Michael Jackson per say. One being that when you're abused as a small child you gain access to abilities to split in ways that I don't think we understand fully yet.  But its one of the most fascinating things to me, what the mind can do. I don't think you have to go full on 'Sybil' in order to save yourself from going off the edge say in an instant when you're kid-self can't truly grasp or handle the situation you're in.  Mental 'flight' takes over since when confronted with adults, you can't fight' and maybe you can't even physically leave. Thank God we're given tools to leave mentally.  I think Michael did that many times as a child.
But I don't think this tool comes without a bit of a price.  In fact I see it as an almost hacking of our computer brains.  You might upset some hardware up there permanently, get some pop ups that never go away.  Whereas that split forms its own little self.  Not completely independent but enough so that it will grow its own likes and dislikes, it's own personality so to speak.
But the perks are that it's yours to sort of pull out at will when necessary if you're savvy enough to use it and understand the ability.  You can't handle social situations? Well, concentrate and maybe with a little cooperation, your stronger, more gregarious side will come out and help. 
My belief is that we all have this ability to call on parts of ourselves in everyday situations. We're multidimensional. And we all use these to a point. But maybe its only when true trauma happens that the split becomes more of a permanent tear off.
But in cases where it's not about life or death, perhaps that slice doesn't dis-attach completely but dangles there on a string. Connected, but separated.  It won't go hauling off and becoming a hooker, calling itself Blanche or something out of a TV Movie of the Week, but instead, it lies dormant until another tragedy happens or you summon it to aide you in distress.
But another belief I have is that these 'splits' even though not totally independent can also get a little tired of waiting around like the Maytag repairman after awhile and can start coming alive and just sort of raising havoc.  Or trying to get a bigger role in the core's life, get more screen time and therefore gain strength, say like a vampire. They might need an opening, so I think it happens when one is weak or tired, sad or sick.
Where does the split gets its energy from?  Maybe if even only a portion of the 'soul' is left unattended for too long, either the devil or other entities can take the wheel.  Hey it could be like an open portal situation. Maybe there is a way in for 'others'.
Or, maybe it actually is just those disjointed parts of one's own self coming out and living through that opening for a short time.  It just could be that they want to help but are misguided because they were born out of fear and their soul purpose was to protect the core.  So their intentions are off, they don't trust anyone and are very suspicious of others intentions.
I do a little meditation and clearing of my mind exorcise everyday that I was taught years ago.  In the moment that I am very open, flushed of all clutter, it really feels like I could just hand over the controls to anyone if there was a way of doing that.  I can see how this is possible.
Anyway, so stay with me here.  I should admit, I write this all without any formal education on the subject and only personal experience to draw from but I also have always felt a very strong connection to this subject and have read several books on it. Okay, maybe only one but I read it all the way through! 
When the 'core' self loses pieces, not unlike losing a limb, then regular life becomes more difficult to maintain.  And you end up needing to call upon these splits, more often. The 'repair' is integration and like brain surgery, it might not be successful anyway but that's the so called cure.  Something Michael probably could have used some education in as part of a healing process if there were people around him that cared to make him better.  Well so if that doesn't happen though, the body and mind computer seems to be incapable of dancing like this for any length of time without misteps.  Therefore quirks start happening, like overheating or shutting down, confusion, depression, distorting of reality, bad behavior and importantly too, physical sickness. The body shuts down.
Humans are meant to have one mind on earth.  Maybe it's different the next place we get to go but here, we're wired more simply. 
He had to have a savvy business side when even though he wanted to play, he was forced to get serious and 'work' so he learned to rally that side when needed.  But truthfully I think he was also born with a deeper familiarity of life in general, like what we call a very old soul.  Not book smart mind you. And I believe these people are more prone to these complexities I speak of.  Jermaine didn't have this, Marlon maybe didn't have it.  Michael was a brighter light even as a very small child. You can see it in his eyes.
My main internal confusion lies in the question:  Was his 'core' personality was the shy, childlike Michael that was a beautiful sad lonely little boy that still believed in the pure good in the world?  Or was it the tween Michael that held all the pain and suffering, the new hormones and the anguish?  The little Michael that saw that his talents had the ability to light up the adults faces in a spectacular way, a magical way.  He held a power that he himself controlled when probably that was about the only thing under his control much of the time.   But close second was perhaps the boy that saw too much, an overload of the world given his Midwestern background and education.  Was he given time to even be naive or innocent ever?  He saw bad in people that maybe he wished he didn't from the gate.  He'd seen enough way to early to know everything was not right.  He had more time to understand his 'power' and the art of manipulation.
And then you have that mother, that was well intentioned and perhaps a victim of her generation?  I don't want to speak out of turn but I'm sure as he did have her love, even though she didn't/ couldn't protect him, he held on to that until maybe as a teen he saw she was just another victim herself, another sad soul.  
Who could he trust?  No one.
It sounds like he only knew of God as was explained to a small child, a magic fairy, not a God of Love and understanding of the real adult world.

Yes, I'm tellin' ya I'm serious, I could talk ALL day about Michael Jackson.  The funny thing is that I went to see Paul McCartney last night at the new Barclay's Center with my pal and had a wonderful time and I should be writing about that!













Beforehand we ate at Pequena in Fort Greene.  Food was great but I can't help but sneering at the takeover of the stroller crowd there and probably can't endure it again.  I know I'm being a creep but the site of strollers makes me 'wanna scream' as Michael once sang.
 

I Want You Back

Chicken Chilaquiles Verde courtesy of Pequena in Fort Greene. So good that we were almost able to ignore the stroller contingent that seems to have taken over the place. It's a tiny restaurant, therefore the name Peguena. It's kinda perfect for pairs or threesomes. It's not the best place for kids. Or to be fair, I should say it's not the best place for both, people with kids and people without. Who by the way just wanna go eat their chilaguiles and chat over good coffee and have some peace. It's almost as if the old crowd, that was cute hipster lesbian couples all had kids. Every one of them. And now they're back. With their strollers.
You win mothers. For now. We'll miss you dearly chilaquiles swimming in your perfect verde sauce, with the best cheese and your two fried eggs. We loved you almost enough to ignore the babies picking up every item on the table constantly and then dropping it on the floor throughout our whole meal as we all sat cozy side by side in this tiny restaurant. By the way did I mention is a perfect setting for couples and threesomes to sit and chat over coffee and get some peace. Sniff, sniff.

My Heros Have Always Been Cowboys

I call these dry chilaquiles but since I've been here in NY I've grown to know them as Tex-Mex migas ala Lobo Restaurant on Court Street. I also call it cowboy cooking because I often fantasize about being on the trail with my horse and black iron skillet. I have to stop for the night by the stream. This might be a dish I'd rustle up upon waking for breakfast. Strips of corn torts and onions fried up quickly in a hot pan then heat lowered and eggs scrambled in. It is always surprising to me how great corn tortillas taste heated in oil. Very rustic and earthy. Good all on its own. I put peas in this mornings migas to add some color. If you have it, nice soft chorizo is perfect.
In reading more and more about traditional chilaquiles it seems the difference is those are made with salsa. You cook the corn tort strips in the salsa to get a little softened. That's how they serve them at Pequena in Fort Greene. Super good, with salsa verde and chicken!
My dad's from Texas but I grew up in the Fort, Wayne that is, Indiana. Who knows how these recipes get passed down. Even on my end, we're talking eating these when I was around 7 or so, so I don't even know how they were made. I'm just going on taste memory.
Whatever you call them they're delicious, fast and special.