Monday, July 25, 2005

the Carni Code

on sunday heather and i ventured into the fabled Coney Island section of brooklyn (which is a bit of a misnomer, as it is not an island, but rather just the the southern most coast of Long Island).

coney island is the home of the famous Cyclone (wooden) roller coaster, Nathan's Famous hotdogs, Shoot the Freak (a game wherein you shoot paintballs at a human target), the Wheel of Wonder (a ferris wheel with unhinged seats) and the most deplorable beaches this side of the N train. i did jump into the Atlantic though, my first time. i also did all of the above except shoot the aforementioned freak, mostly because the human target in question happened to be a black guy, and i have a substantial amount of white guilt for a Latino. heather kicked my ass at both skee ball and that game where you shoot water into the clown's mouth. she won a stuffed bear.

it was the best day in a string of good days for me, mostly because it had been so long since i had been to both a beach and an amusement park. people were fishing for sea bass and crab off the pier, which seemed amazing to me as they would send down whole chicken carcasses, to harvest the smallest crabs ever. i just had to ask, why not eat the chicken?

and now some gems from the wonderful world of East Harlem Sol:

[reading homework aloud]
Sol has $2000 in the bank and Nick has $1000, [interjects] which is 50% WRONG, [continues reading] what is the ratio of Sol's money to Nick's?

[pointing to my elbows, which are notoriously dry and flaking]
You ashy! You need some lotion.

[replying to my suggestion we cut across a courtyard instead of walking around it]
nah, you don't want no drama! this is the PROJECTS, they like to mess with the white people. but you mixed, so who knows.

indeed who knows?

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Eating Watermelon in Harlem

today i met with my one and only student (at the moment), Sol. he's a nice kid, bright and eager, but also easily distracted and sometimes lazy. however, as he is my only client at the moment, i'll be sure to put my heart into his education and hopefully see that he does well into 6th grade. he's a little big for his age (11), stout and willing to rap during the moments that, with anyone else, would be uncomfrotable silences. i teach him in Harlem, at 130th street and Park Avenue.

it's hot in nyc, and after we studied math and writing for hours, it was time for recess. so we walked to the park where he played tennis and i wrote up lessons for tomorrow. after an hour we were both so hot and tired that we picked up some cold watermelon and ate it amongst the pigeons and children playing in the fountain.

the kid marveled that my appetite rivaled his. "no one's ever finished eating before me," said sol.

Monday, July 18, 2005

If I Can Make it There...

we've arrived in New York, with a few changes to our play:

the apartment won't be ready August 1st (it was supposed to be ready July 15, then pushed, now it seems pushed again), which is disappointing. however, i have a cousin who lives in yonkers, which is where we are staying now until the place is ready.

i've been hired as a private tutor and start immediately, adding much stress to an already stressful time

we're borrowing a friend's car to get back and forth from the 4 train into Manhattan (the only way to get to work) which is also stressful (NY drivers are frikkin nuts) but very appreciated, because to rent a car would be hundreds of dollars a week

however, upon arrival to yonkers we noted a steak house called, "Boulder Creek," and thought it would be a hoot to try it out. but the hoot, to me, became surreal as the menu items consisted of "flatirons steak salad" and "Denver strip steak" and "rocky mountain" this and "front range" that. what are the odds of two coloradoans trekking thousands of miles to start a new life only to find a Colorado themed restaurant 5 minutes from their home? i found it odd and wondered aloud if New York wasn't trying to tell us to go home. Heather posited that it was just the opposite: Colorado telling us to not forget who we are.