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Showing posts from January, 2016

Chaos and Control

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I was all set to raise some serious hell. I was preparing to do battle with my cable company and I had a chip on my shoulder, my nose out of joint, a bee in my bonnet and a massive bug up my ass. For months I have been struggling to get my remote control to function properly, but things were only getting worse. I had to press down on the buttons until my thumb ached, but I could barely change the channels. Certain channels wouldn’t come up at all, so I got into the habit of clicking a nearby number and working my way up or down to get to the station I wanted. I couldn’t get the Sundance Channel, for example, so I went to NY1’s Spanish language station and then clicked downward. While it was nice to hear the weather report in Spanish, I still wanted to watch my “Law & Order” reruns. But the very worst part of all this cropped up when I tried to watch TV shows I had recorded and I couldn’t fast-forward through the commercials. The whole point of getting the damn DVR w

Crying in the Chapel

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In my senior year of high school I failed the calculus final and wasn’t permitted to graduate. My mother and I went to the Math Department’s chairman on what was supposed to be my graduation day to plead my case, but the truth is that I had no case. I couldn’t grasp the basics of calculus and I think I had subconsciously decided early on that I would never understand this stuff—with the predictable results. (Illustration by Min Gi Ha) My math teacher seemed surprised that I was blowing off the graduation exercises—it’s only a ceremony, he said—but I didn’t want any part of it. So my mother and I left, walking down DeKalb Avenue to get the subway back to Bay Ridge while hundreds of my fellow seniors were heading up the street to get their diplomas. It surreal, going against that wave of humanity, and it felt like it would never end. Somewhere along the way we ran into one of my classmates, Wendell

Simon Says

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I tore through several tons of crap in my wallet, but there was no sign of it. My debit card was gone. This is your punishment, my conscience shrieked inside my skull. This is what you get for being so greedy. I had gone to the Chase Bank in Hoboken to get some cash the other day, but now my trip to the ATM was DOA. I had crumpled receipts, ancient dry cleaner tickets, and business cards from people I couldn’t begin to remember, but the debit card had vanished. I instantly imagined drooling hordes of subhuman sloths cracking open my bank account, throwing handfuls of my life-savings into the air while laughing hysterically and buying themselves all manner of ill-gotten goods and services. However, I had one item in my wallet that didn’t belong there: a Metrocard that I had found on the X27 bus last week after an evening out with my sister and auntie. I had seen the thing on the seat in front of me after I said goodnight to my sister and rose to get off at my stop. The

Face the Music

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The young Orthodox Jewish man approached me while I stood in Grand Central Terminal drinking a diet soda. “Excuse me, sir, are you Jewish?” he asked. “No, I’m afraid not,” I said. “Oh, you have a Jewish face,” he replied. “Have a nice weekend.” Jewish face? Me? Who knew? I’m sure the nuns in Catholic school would be surprised to hear this--not to mention my parents. But then I’m also circumcised so it’s not just my face that looks Jewish. Maybe this guy wasn’t so meshuggah after all… This little episode may sound strange to people in other parts of the world, but it was just one moment in a very long day I recently experienced in and around Grand Central, my favorite New York landmark. The place is so beautiful and vibrant, but I can remember the days when the terminal had fallen into a serious decline. Commuters virtually ran through the place to escape the filth and the panhandlers. However, it’s all so different now and I always tell tourists to make sure they visit

On the Wing

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Thank God we only do this once a year. On New Year’s Day my sister and I battled our way into Wing Hing, a fabulous Chinese restaurant on Avenue U, to order our holiday dinner. The place was packed as people lined up for a table or crowded around the front desk to order takeout. And just when you think the joint couldn’t possibly hold any more bodies, the front door swings open and a family of five comes plowing through. It’s like Armageddon with dumplings. My sister bravely made it to the counter while I did my best not to get trampled. Jesus, if I wanted this kind of lunacy I would’ve gone to Times Square a few hours earlier. This place would make a hell of a reality show and I feel like we should be given t-shirts that say “I Survived New Year’s Day at Wing Hing.” You need the right attitude to get through this ordeal. I felt my nerves starting to jangle as the body count kept rising, but I did my best to stay calm and polite. I held the door open for people, wished e

Of Dogs and Pandas

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I’ve been searching for a quote to set the theme for the New Year and I think found it in a fortune cookie I cracked open the other night. “Never chase a dog into a dead end alley,” it said. That sounds like the kind of advice that I’ve been ducking for my most of my life, so maybe 2016 is the year I avoid the dead ends. Of course, I should mention that I got another fortune in the same batch of cookies that said “a panda will enter your life in the near future and you will feed him delicious food.” That one had me a little confused, but if a traveling panda ever does slide over to Chez Robbo , I hope he brings a bottle of wine. I’m keeping the resolutions short and simple this year: I’m going to reinforce the good stuff that I should be doing and cut down on the crap that does me harm. And I’m thinking now that the dog in my fortune cookie can represent anger, fear, and ignorance. And the panda might be a stand-in for love, compassion, and kindness. I recently chased that