black history

 In honor of Black History Month—and Flip's last Black History Month at the American Program Bureau, where he has represented Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela and many others for many years (and btw why is Black History Month the shortest month?)—I present the work of my grandchildren on the subject. Isaac drew pictures of a bus pre and post segregation. In the post, he is the kid in the back of the bus. Camilla chose to do a project about Queen Nanny, a leader of the Maroons in Jamaica. I assume she was drawn to the topic having spent some time in Jamaica herself. And she waxed quite irate about the lack of info about the leader. I am just proud to be Mimi's Nini, possibly named for the First Mother.

getting the party started

Man of the hour author Adam Cohen and Hope arrived after the chairs.

 I got a call from Barb on the street. I shouted, "Yes! Yes!" Before she could even ask if I had gotten the pictures. She had found some chairs on the street she thought I might want for the Goose, and she was so very right. She is my street-find curator, and the only one from whom I will accept "projects." They are always worth it. She was only a block away, and Ed had just gotten here, so we ran down as she guarded the hoard. Yes, I'm gonna have to recover the seats, but hell yeah!

dress appropriately

My clothing is going to a place it will feel at home, the land of aloha. Looks like I need to pare down the stack to pack, though.

i smell a rat

Fortunately, the Rat was not outside my building or any of my usual haunts. Presumably it struck fear into whoever it was ratting out.
   Meanwhile, a couple things.
Hannah's fame continues to increase as part of FedEx's promo.
Barrett's childhood home, Weir Farm, gets its own quarter from the US Mint, featuring a painter with palette. You can go to the launch and get your own quarter on April 7.
   I am engaging in the usual spate of last-minute entertainments and tasks before leaving for warmer shores on Monday. Please encourage me to work when i get there! I don't have a problem with the playing part.

two-headed monster

It's interesting being in someone else's mind for any period of time. Editing is like that—you're channeling someone else's sensibility. So for the past week, Donna and have been side-by-side editing captions to pictures that comprise her life's work. Being in her head is challenging. Donna's world is violent, unsafe, oppressive, futuristic, fatalistic, polyamorous, patriarchal and relentlessly political. Except when it isn't—which really keeps you on your toes. Because I don't know if you've noticed, but people aren't consistent or logical. Particularly photographers, who are primarily visual thinkers.  Or maybe just Geminis. Anyway, ask me what Donna thinks about anything, and can I tell you: Both what she thinks and the opposite that she thinks a few minutes later. Now I have to remember what I think!

reigning supreme

Must have been past Adam's niece's bedtime. She clung to him the whole time.

Yes, there was cake.

This Sunday the cover of the NYT book review is Adam Cohen's book Supreme Inequality: The Supreme Court's 50-year Battle for a More Unjust America. Last night he was feted at the first of several book parties, attended by practically everyone he's known since college. It's the most footnoted book I've ever seen, as befits such an incendiary thesis, written by a Harvard law school graduate. It will likely be an even greater success than his last book, Imbeciles. I thank him for including me in his extremely long list of acknowledgements, probably because I buy him Diet Dr. Pepper.
It may be the only time I appear in print.

Barb took a pic of me by the fireplace. yes, she's acknowledged as well!

a bit of roundup

 They say when you lose weight, you should buy a new outfit. So 20 pounds later, I have. I leave for Hawaii on March 2. What I saved on the outfit (suit $20, sarong $10), I am spending on a rental car. Actually a truck, which will cost about twice the rent I'm paying for the shack. I guess if push comes to shove, I can live in it. The truck, I mean. Well, I plan on living in the suit, also. And the shack.
   I have been dealing with people's memoirs. With Chien-Chi's script, which is basically a memoir in slightly fictionalized cinematic form. With Donna's, which is in photographic form (see intro below). She will probably have to join the witness protection plan if this book ever gets published.  (As will I and Paula, who copy edited, and Barbara, who researched.) Captions are supposed to be finished this week. Looking forward to my own memoir which is in shitty written form at the mo! Planning to work on it in Kauai.

    Here is a story about Todd's work. We met 20 years ago when I was doing a story about him for LIFE magazine, right before it folded. Boy was he suspicious of me! But all these years later, we're still friends. I suppose I should offer a trigger warning with this, except that most of my friends who read this blog already know Todd and his work.

love is all there is

Happy Valentine's, valentines! If you are reading this, you know already that I love you, but heck, is there any such thing as too much love? I LOVE you. I HEART you. However, I have been unable to obtain these particular hearts for you. That's because the Sweethearts company was going out of business when it was bought by another company who apparently still hasn't got their distriution together. Meanwhile SweetTarts (?)  and some other companies have stepped in to provide "conversation hearts" in a little box. But I'm still waiting on the almost real thing. Love you! Mean it!

backyard life

I am about to go live in someone's backyard for a month. It's a dirt backyard that abuts the levee that keeps the Waimea River out of the lower valley as it empties into the ocean. The toilet and shower are in outbuildings. The shed I'm living in is new, built by my friend Jimmy. He's the one who talked the lady of the house into renting to me. He also narrates the videos. Hoping to write in the morning, then go to the beach, then go to Owen's or Jimmy's mom's house of an evening. Not sure about cell reception or internet.

And, in contrast, here is the shed Hannah is building in her backyard. The outside is almost done. I just wish I could build a shed on Block Island!

street scavengers

A lotta cans. TirBeCa

A lotta seeds. Upper West Side

block island now

Well not really now, but on Friday Johnny took these pictures of Block Island in the wind. No boats running, of course. These were in front of my house.

alice's restaurant church

Some of you may remember Alice, and the restaurant —and the draft. Alice and her husband lived in the bell tower of this church near Great Barrington, Mass., and put their garbage down where the pews usta be, according, memorably, to Arlo Guthrie, who attempted to take the garbage to the dump on Thanksgiving and thereby evaded the draft. And seaking of people who evaded the draft—never mind.
   Anyway, Arlo bought the church for real, nad now it's called The Guthrie Center. They hold hootenanies. Sorry, they have folk music concerts and interfaith religious services there, and I guess there's pews there again. I was gobsmacked to see the church when I was visiting Katie and Mike.

rags to rockers

Hannah's latest Wear Your Music project. I'll let her explain it. Rock Recycled is already quite a success on some band tours.

Also, if Hannah pops up on your Facebook feed, don't be alarmed. As a past winner of the FedEx small business grant, they have built ads around her.

journalists unite

One of the few houses that still seems to subscribe to print magazines.

Peter relaxes after Mass and prepares to cook breakfast.

The travelers depart. Photo by Peter Meyer

Barbara and I and Ed stayed overnight at Peter and Janet's house, which is a stylin' Air BnB. You can see the beautiful rooms here.
       Of course most of the action was backstage, in the family's half of the giant house, as Peter and Barb and Ed told war stories. We all met, after all, at LIFE magazine. Much laughing was done. These days Peter Meyer, former author of horrific, true crime books (until he began suffering from PTSD), writes about education and runs journalism classes for grade school kids, which you can read about in the NYT here.
   
  

Ed came up with a concept T-shirt: "Boobs for Trump." On the train ride home, Barb said she thought it should look like a cheezy Jersey shore souvenir. We amused ourselves with doing designs and watching the Hudson River slide by. Yes, I did butt in with college reminiscences at the Poughkeepsie stop and high school ones at Scarborough.
    What do you think about the T-shirt? Feel free to email me with your ideas and I'll post em up for a vote.

art weekend

Katie dashes by her Housatonic gallery and studio.

 Katie had a Big Day on Saturday, though with her two galleries, painting workshops and a life in the Berkshires and Block Island, most days are pretty big. At least she doesn't have a dozen horses and a farm any more. We headed over to her Housatonic, NY, Front Street gallery to pick up a telephone to test the land line in her Hudson, NY Warren Street gallery, where she was having an opening that day.

She hustles to Hudson, NY, to preside over an opening of her show of  flowers.

 In Hudson, after packing up the cheese and crackers and wine from the show, we headed over to a local hangout for dinner with my friend Peter and his family and fellow life friends Ed and Barbara, who had trained up the river for the night. As for what transpired thereafter, hang in til tomorrow.

Janet and Peter and their son Dylan in front of their BnB.