the cricket response…

the cricket response…

macro photography of babys ear
Photo by Burst on

sound, a transport device, a time travel mechanism at least in our memory response, something we all can account for, just now, I was listening to some random ambient on youtube and there was a background sound embedded, buried, a familiar sound, a pinpoint sound, crickets, like devious little natural metronomes, chiming, precise clockwork chirps provide context, surely this is not their true domain, a gloomy rainy cold day, the weather prognosticator already told the fortune of today, rain in spades, or some other suit, but that is the saying, anyway, that pill popped into my subconscious I was already to rue the day, to welcome the disappointment of my appointment with rain, the expected, expected to be understood and ground, I do love a good thunderstorm however, so my hopes were up for at least some rumble, some tussle of spark, a great reminder of nature’s power via rolling clouds of thunder sparked by bolts, yes, I do quite enjoy a good storm, as long as my power stays on, pampered human am I, all the while to watch the tempest from my safe box, admittedly, from comfort, but back to the crickets, I am transported from this somewhat lackluster day to a summer night, by a fire, in the mountains, or even just outside by a lake, but definitely summer, and most definitely night, when the all else of the world is faded, just the subtle crackle of collapsing embers, out past the flickers rising in the sky, the crickets, a constant sound, I could hear that sound in a blizzard and feel comfort, for at least a time, the power of sound to bring my mind somewhere else, sometimes a song, to a place, to a gathering, a party, a wedding, a celebration, I can feel the suit I’m wearing, the clanging of the formal wear, the shoes pound on a dance floor, or maybe just a time, alone sitting watching the waves come in, with a new album on my ipod, a dozen years ago, always connected to that beach, the clear waves of the Key’s lapping my feet, having the dock all to myself, like owning the world and stepping into the scene whenever I like, just a song, and I am there, and there are those who would argue about mystical things… take a listen…

notes… tomorrow will be day three back @ work for me, like, physically instead of remotely, at my office (Bergen County, NJ covid central ground zero in Jersey), granted there are only a few of us there, but I am dealing with all the same things in my head, my brother is helping this week taking care of my folks thankfully, the weather seems to be looking up, at least it wasn’t raining today, my bamboo is booming, as it always does this time of year (you would not believe how much can grow in a day), in my mind I look forward to when it fills out the entire corner of the house like an impenetrable forest  fortress of green all year round, that will take years, and I hope for those, those years that is….

PS: found a Chinese restaurant tonight that was open ! yay!  NY/NJ chinese take out is an essential thing, something we all (from this area) take pride in in some strange way, there is no way people here would blame them for the virus, I love cooking, but not every night (and only italian places seem open), there is something comforting in getting some wonton soup, shrimp and lobster sauce… and an eggroll, one of those little building blocks of normalcy I can add to the stack.

The Crucible…

The Crucible…

abstract active ash color
Photo by Pixabay on

something about a frog in a Jacuzzi, the heat being applied is perceptible, the unnecessary bits are being cast off, the core of our elements are coalescing, all from this undue force, forcing us to pool into a more singular form, extraneous matters seem, well, extraneous, because they are, luxuries once daily amenities fall further from our finger tips, the fanaticism of professional sports seem to have been sidelined rather quickly and quietly, once heralded as the pitfall of perils (or so we were told or sold) – Social Media, now seems to be morphing into some savior in a way, and I suppose it would, how do you isolate but not be isolated? strangely this might be the ideal time for such a dilemma to strike (if there is such timing), however, I can not imagine those who are not as fortunate, in countries not as advanced or those here, no, I feel no guilt for being born here nor for being able to afford some comfort in my life, but lack of guilt does not preclude empathy, that is why I have no ill will to seemingly out of touch celebrities, well, not all of them, some, I am sure are smug little things in ivory towers quite above you, however, for most, they are still human, flesh and blood, just the same, and not immune to the shooting gallery of contagion, and let’s face it, most of us put them up on the pedestals they reside in, we, society, thrust them up into their position, merely performers or just physically gifted lifted to some other level, but the crucible has winnowed this all down, social attrition at the hands of a hunter, an indiscriminate one at that, proof that regardless of stats, hacks, views, likes, visits, follows, zeros in accounts, we are all human, while we may look up from our own status there are certainly those below that deserve our concern as well, so if you can make some sacrifice, however small (or large), please do.

a crucible is also defined as a difficult time or test… and that is certainly this. So remember these lessons in times such as these, wear some empathy as a filter, at some level we are all just we.

notes… in near lock down here in New Jersey,  although I am not locked down totally as I support an ‘essential’ service (supermarkets), so for now I am still going to work and such… but how is a lock down total if … we all gather like a gang of vultures in the supermarkets? The line between liberty and safety is being blurred… I am wondering how far will it go… I certainly do not want  to infect anyone but I am and have been in every hot-spot there has been, NYC? yep, New Rochelle ? Teaneck?  Hackensack?.. check em all, plus my techs that I deal with daily are in and out of grocery stores all day… something is not adding up for me personally… what if this was a really deadly virus (not to down play this one at all but compared to Ebola this is nothing)…. just thinking out loud as usual, from my little blog… that’s all…


A touch of whimsy…

A touch of whimsy…

person holding red and yellow fruit
Photo by John Lambeth on

“a peach in the park”

how thoughts ignite in flames, bullet trains and maelstroms, so where should I start, so where should I begin? oh yes, a peach in the park, how might I endeavor to discover the clever fellow who placed this fleshy fruity fellow on this spot, might I infer into the meaning, the intention of this pit full globe placed perfectly perpendicular on the corner of this wall of laid stone… Should I become the king’s protector, a sampler, for a taste of hemlock, and reap the rich rewards of a job well done, unless I am done in by dining on this course, of course… Or is this the lost remnant of unrequited love, a date never met, literally a fruit not tasted, a memento of a moment not materialized, left behind in hest with heft on heart on broken, on further review, I do not think I like this interpretation…  perhaps this is an offering to the goddess of the central, in tribute to this grand oasis laid in the land of no sleep, surrounded on all sides by city streets, taxi keeps and buildings that dare scrape the very rooftop of air itself, a thankful ode, a nod to the one who keeps this trove, a grove, in the middle of all the manic metropolitan bustle and hustle, to the power of that natural spirit that sings in trees, howls across the winds, showers clean with the rain, blankets pure with the snow, I think I like the romantic interpretation of this intention… Or perhaps this is just some cruel trick, waiting for some fool (such as this, me) to pick up said peach grenade to receive a face-full of blasted peach parts, quite humiliated as the secret camera is revealed and all the phones that know no yield, up on the net I go, famous for something I’d rather not, for at least a cycle, face covered in shame and peach cob, no, this makes my hand recoil, I look around quickly to foil this latest plot, but nothing seems amiss, but should I take the chance?

and with all this scheming, mind running, scenario scrubbing, a subtle stranger (as we have not been introduced), has quite gotten on the loose, for behind this perfect peachy day, a squirrel has stopped to eat some fruit… well, I hope the spirit of the park is not amused… but for sure I am off the hook…

Notes: I have to say, sometimes I have no idea where this stuff comes from, well, technically it is me (obvious) but these things just pop in my head, to me, this is whimsy at best, letting my mind stretch and wander into some unknown field and describe the grass there.. if that makes sense, and if you read this it probably makes sense, and for that I say…. thanks…

Sometimes a name…

Sometimes a name…


the photo is from the intersection (well, slightly before it) of E 127th st and First Ave in NYC… OK, Anne Leibovitz I am not… but I thought it looked cool and throwing my phone up in an instant isn’t exactly my forte (or a good way to get a composed shot obviously)… but the double lights looked interesting and artsy, so you know, I went for it…  But back to my original thought, again, I am always banging the drum we take things around for granted that are certainly strange or cool.. or whatever, one of those things is a park.  I have always wanted to steal the sign of this park (as you pass it when you get onto the FDR north from many points in NYC)… well, the park is called (and I ain’t kidding)


now… I understand the sentiment as crack was a plague on inner cities in the 80s… but the execution of the sentiment is utterly amusing to me, and to put said slogan on an official looking park sign is just begging for theft (of same).  There is no way some kid playing at crack park even knows what the hell crack is… this is a great example of how the current time (at the time) seems so damn important and permanent… but yet is so fleeting like the spring snow of dandelions blowing through in a window of weeks, and then gone, all life is like that, how do we reconcile that?  I’m not sure, I am trying, my mind is grinding on it, to act in the now but also act for the then… we all have the strength within but man it is tiring, I think… especially wrapped up in our daily lives, work, family, love… where does it end? but it does.  how do we fit it all in, the more important stuff?

scattered” 6.3.18

I am ashes

I am shadow

collected dust


by the slightest breeze,

I am fallow

a shadow,

wait, I realize

a shadow is caused by substance,


I must be

no longer

in fact

I am no more

I’m scattered

to the four.

music.. long form tonight folks.  to say I am a gamer is sort of a weird thing, I grew up on original NES and arcade stuff, so… I still have all my original systems and love MAME…  there is a band that actually plays the soundtracks of classics (I can argue THE classics) while someone plays them… so it hits all my nerd chords to a tee… retro gaming – check, geekdom – check, guitar – check…

Bit Brigade – Megaman 2 @ Magfest X

To me this is just amazing … and cool, sue me, pool me, fool me I love it.

tonight’s lesson on new york city (or parts thereof)…

tonight’s lesson on new york city (or parts thereof)…

new york city
Photo by Vinta Supply Co. | NYC on

Although my job can be thoroughly frustrating (often) I must admit (begrudgingly) that it does afford me the opportunity to discover/explore/experience all the locales of the local locale (whew, that’s a mouthful), I guess more simply I am thrust into neighborhoods not too far from where I grew up (well, grew up in the physical sense), and said neighborhoods can be interesting little beakers of human experiment.  Today I was stuck, ahem, ‘assigned’ to a store in (googling the section where Dykman street is… hold on…) the Inwood section.  The history is pretty interesting if you read the Wiki…  but there is definitely some gentrification going on here, right around the corner from the store (and storefronts which are clearly Dominican/Puerto Rican) is a little street that is a little booshie… (go to the street side view)… very different from Broadway proper (almost the bronx)… trust me, this will be the new Williamsburg imo (not necessarily a bad thing)… just a little exposition on a neighborhood that will explode, I mean, damn it is right on the Hudson river, easy access to the G-Dub… cmon now…

Anyway, just past the store is this intersection… don’t blame me, blame the city planners…(map) (you might have to click on “larger map”), it is funny that it is a dead end where they meet… let me know if you spot what I spotted… (wink)

and I will be back there tomorrow, so I hope to explore the neighborhood further, but man the pizza (Sicilian) sucked @ tony’s but my co-worker Alex (who is all Rican … Dominican and Puerto mix!) said “what did you expect in a Dominican neighborhood”… damn I am white and stupid… I should stick to the local licks.