Thursday, February 28, 2013

The Power of People

I'm not really into sports at all but I do enjoy going to the basketball and hockey games (though basketball more - I can follow the game better) at Madison Square Garden.

"Why?" you ask, as you wrinkle your cute little nose in disgust.  Is it because of the sweaty bodies?  The super-fast action I can't really follow?  The endless flow of rules and fouls and penalties I have absolutely no interest in?

Of course not!!

It's the drama.  And the crowd.  The excitement that builds when even an ignorant novice like me can see and feel that something HUGE is happening.

Two nights ago we all stood up and cheered as the incredibly hot Ryan Callahan slid around and blocked a whole bunch of shots, much to the delight of 18,000 screaming fans.  The Rangers played terrible and ended up losing, but those few seconds were pretty exciting.

But nothing compared to what happened LAST night at the Knicks game.  12 year old Stephen Curry (or at least he looks like he's 12) scored 53 points and whipped everyone into a frenzy last night.  It was really exciting.  It kinda reminded me of when Jeremy Lin was here last year and we all ooh'd and ahh'd every time he did anything.

Sports.  Quite honestly, I don't get it.  Too many rules, too many tattoos.  But what I do get is the power of thousands of people sensing that something amazing is happening.  And being a part of history.  David told me that the 53 points against the Knicks in Madison Square Garden is the third most points scored by a player from the other team since the new garden as built in the 60's.  The other 2 players I even have heard of - Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan (oh come on, you don't remember his famous "Double Nickel" game??  Me either!!).  So yea, it was pretty cool.

So we will keep attending games at MSG, seeing famous people on the screen, and rising and shouting when something magical happens.

And, thank goodness, the cell reception in the building is good too, for all the non-magical moments.

Thursday, February 14, 2013


"You are the sun and moon and stars, are you
And I could never run away from you

You try at working out chaotic things
And why should I believe myself, not you?"

(Radiohead - You)
This is a slightly altered version of the letter I hand penned and left for David this morning.  I intentionally got up early and went out so he'd see it waiting for him when he woke up.

Dear David:

How do you put into words the feelings you have for someone who saved your life?

I do not exaggerate.  Without you, there is no me.  Without your love and kindness and support, then I am just another speck of dust blown about by the careless gusts of the harsh word.

How did it even happen?  Whatever possessed me to walk over to you at that party?  You certainly didn't seem like the type who was interested in damaged goods.  And whatever possessed you to give me your number?  And me the courage to text you?

And how on earth did this good looking, smart, funny and kind guy ever become such good friends with a messed-up rebel with a history?  And how come all my stories and secrets shared and tears didn't repulse you and make you push me away?

Honestly I have long ago stopped asking these questions. Because the truth is, I don't care why.  I'm just happy you did.  Thanks to your love, the messed-up, damaged good rebel is gone.  And there's me instead. 

Me and you. 


And now I don't have to wait to see you sometimes.  Or to hope you text me back.  Or whittle away the hours worrying that my absolute and extreme love for you wasn't reciprocal (bad times). 

Now we are together every day.  And I've never been happier.

Your family.  Your friends.  They have all been so accepting of me.  And they have made me grow and I'm a better person for knowing them.  And it's all because of you.

Being married has been an adjustment.  You seem to be handling it like you handle everything.  With ease.  But I love each and every minute of my life with you (even when you leave your towel on the floor in the bathroom or dirty dishes in the sink  :)  ).  I cannot imagine being any happier than I am now.

I even love all of our "together alone" time at MSG - for Knicks and Rangers games.  I mean, what girl wouldn't dream of spending so many weeknights surrounded by 18,000 people screaming for giant guys in shorts or skates when she could be home in bed watching the Bachelor or some other piece of art?

It's all good.  So good.  Great.  So much better than I could have ever have hoped for.  Or even dreamed about.  You are my dream.

And it has come true.

I love you.


Monday, February 11, 2013

Sometimes the Fat Lady Sings

A while back I wrote this, assuming it was the death knell of my friendship with Tova.  In a way, it was.  But it was, in truth, the beginning of the death knell.  The actual multiple stabbing didn't take place until a bit later.

When she got engaged.  And didn't call me. 

I heard about it from one of our mutual acquaintances who texted me to ask me why I wasn't at the L'chaim.  What L'chaim? I answered innocently.  WHAAAAT???  You didn't know Tova was engaged????  But you guys are the best of friends.  What happened????

What happened?

That text back and forth was the first of many times I avoided answering that question.  Because I knew what had happened, and I had even written about it here  (same link as above). 

The friendship we had so badly needed had dissolved.


It happens.  Shit happens.  Life happens.  David sometimes says you either roll with the punches or get your ass kicked.  (I'm sure he read or heard it somewhere, he isn't exactly the master of turning a phrase, but it's a pretty good description.) 

Tova and I had  a really good run. When we needed to be there for each other, we were the best of possible friends.  I stand by our friendship when it existed.  It was as good as can be.

But now it's clearly dead.  Wedding invitations are out.  I didn't make the cut.  Am I sad?  No.  As I wrote previously, I don't even really miss her.  That part of my life is over - lock stock and two smoking barrels. 

Would I have liked to have seen her walk down the aisle, perhaps catch her eye and smirk that she was surrounded by a weak father and a mother who hates her?  Sure.  Would I like to see my replacement friends?  Her new group and how they interact with her?  Absolutely.  But it's straight curiosity that drives these desires, not love or devotion or friendship.

Were I ever to write a book, its themes might be lost friendship.  They say "write what you know" and I feel like I have a strong grasp on it.  (The other options might be to write about redemption or soft core porn in case you were wondering.  But I digress.). 

Lost friendship.  Losing your best friend to circumstances and time and change.  Shouldn't it hurt more

What happened? 

The answer is so simple.  Was so simple.  Remains so simple.  Times moves on. You either roll with the punches or get your ass kicked. 

Except sometimes there are no punches to roll with.  Sometimes times moves on to bigger and better.  Sometimes you aren't avoiding a left hook, but making positive changes to your life.  Sometimes your dreams come true.

And, perhaps, there isn't enough room in the limo for all your old baggage.

Does that sound cruel?  Does it sound insensitive?  Is that all she is to me now?  Baggage?

Yes.  And No.  That's the truth.  She's baggage to me now.  But cherished baggage.  The kind you never throw away.  Heck, maybe you don't keep it displayed in the living room, but you lovingly wrap it up, put it in a box and keep it in the attic, refusing to throw it out no matter how many times you do your spring cleaning.


I texted her some time after.  I wished her a mazal tov, told her I hope she has a wonderful life with her guy and wished her the best.  She didn't respond.  But that's ok.  My words were perfunctory and I'm sure she guessed that.  She knew I hated that guy. She knew I felt she can do so much better than him.  He's a deadbeat.  She knew I wrote the words because I had to write something.   So I don't blame her for not responding.  She could never be fake about anything.  Being so close to death, so many times, buys you a certain measure of getting to do things your way.

So it's over. The fat lady has sung. My friendship with Tova, once the buoy that kept me afloat in a sea of turmoil most of you can never fully understand or appreciate, is dead.

And I'm indifferent. 

Thursday, February 7, 2013


I saw Joss Whedon's The Cabin In The Woods last night. 

I'm a huge Whedon fan.  I've seen every single episode of Buffy and Angel (not to mention all of lovely images of David Boreanaz I've had at other times).  So let's say off the bat i think the man is a genius of modern culture.

But Cabin in the Woods?  I mean i get it.  I got it.  But I don't think I really got it.  Does he really hate human-kind that much.  Are we really that worthless?  what's your grudge dude?  This society made you a rich man.

Anyone see this?  Anyone saw what I'm missing???

Monday, February 4, 2013

Things I Would Never Have Known But For Hanging Around A Bunch of Guys at a Super Bowl Party

 - Apparently Ray Lewis, a Ravens player, was heavily involved in a double murder a decade ago.  This led to The Guys (TG) gleefully reading tweets during the blackout such as "Ray Lewis killed the lights" and laughing uproariously.

 - What a "prop bet" is.

 - That there really is no limits on how much you can eat, no matter how skinny you are, if things such as "meat" barbecue" or beer are involved.

 - How to operate my very own "box pool" (we did not win, btw).

 - The harbaugh brother who coaches the 49er team is a spoiled brat.  He seems much more intense than the other brother.

 - The 49er quarterback has a bad-boy cuteness to him.  Too many tats though.

 - The guy from the blind side is a real football player!!  And he still plays!!  Apparently, despite the movie, he "sucks" or is, at the very best, "overrated".

 - Apparent it is no longer acceptable to simply watch the Big Game, you need every single guy following the game, in real time, on Twitter while constantly giggling and then passing the phone around so everyone else can giggle too.

 - Anquan Boldin is a "beast".  And the consensus among TG was that his parents couldn't spell Antoine.

 - Interesting fact - If you live in neither Baltimore or San Fransisco, it was impossible to choose a team to root for in this game.  That you were quite possibly rooting for both teams to lose or for a giant blackout to end the game prematurely (oh wait).

-  Guys are pigs (though, to be honest, I knew this without watching the game with them).

AND, the most important of all:

- That next year's Super Bowl is (i) going to be played in New York (ok New Jersey but whatever). (ii) That there is a significantly better chance that the Giants will be in it (realistic) than the Jets (iii) TG all hope the halftime show will be done by such local stalwarts (and cold weather performers) as Springsteen, Bon Jovi and Billy Joel, (iv) that there's at least a 32% chance that the game will be played in horrendous weather (including, but not limited to windstorms, blizzards and sub zero temperatures)and (v) that I'm like 92% certain I'd like to go.