I've Taken to Reading the Writer's Almanac

First published September 2011

I've taken to reading The Writer's Almanac
in the morning
before I get up.
It arrives around 2 a.m. into my gmail basket
And joins around 200 I've saved
hoping to read later
but put off so long
that I deleted a hundred a few weeks ago
totally unopened.
It starts with a poem
and that often gets me thinking,
and sometimes thoughts that
shouldn't start a day or even end one
(must I think of Mom and Dad
before I've brushed my teeth?).
Then the birthdays of writers
or actors
or things,
like the Metropolitan Opera House,
or geniuses like Tchaikovsky or Sibelius or Schubert,
although the Composers Datebook,
which joins the Almanac at about the same early hour each day,
has more of those
and sometimes I confuse the two.
But there's the short biography
or biographies
of writers who actually write
or have written
and were read and had thoughts
that I sometimes shared
or more often wondered at
but never wrote down myself.
Should I start the day
thinking like that
or take that dream, that nightmare, that obsession that robbed my sleep,
and chew on it instead
with my oatmeal (instant, not steel cut, no patience)
before turning on the TV
and the computer
and driving all thoughts
of any pedigree
out of my head
for the rest of the day?
Before I get out of bed, I've taken to
fumbling for the android
behind my head
to read the day's arrival
and then delete it.
Next, back to September
to catch up on those
late summer thoughts
and birthdays now long past
and send those to Trash
with the other thoughts
and poems that demand more contemplation
than I can give
while starting the day.
But I must catch up
and clear the Inbox, and
I've decided at least one old Almanac each day,
rewinding through hot and wet August and sticky July,
until the past is erased and I'm back to the daily Almanac
I've taken to opening
first thing in the morning
to nibble on other people's thoughts
to start the day.
Why not?
Perhaps I need find no words of my own at all today.
Rehearsal will have other people's words to learn,
and singing other people's poems to others' musical fancies
to the heart's delight.

Copyright © 2011 by Susan Kirby 

Fizzle Fireworks, July 4, 2009

First published July 4, 2009

So why did Macy's and New York decide to put the fireworks where only half the people who wanted to see them could see them?
     Your Chronicler loves fireworks. Really, really loves them! I am fond of things that go "Boom!" and have pretty colors and lots of glitter. So on a gorgeous July 4 evening at around 7:50, I headed out in search of big bang bliss -- the famous Macy's fireworks, this year scheduled to explode over the Hudson River.
     Your Chronicler also loves research, so I visited the Macy's Fireworks Web site to find out how to get a prime spot. I found the following:

      The Fireworks may be viewed from any area with an unobstructed view of the sky above the Hudson River. For the best views, head to 12th Avenue below 59th Street at the following access points along 11th Avenue: 

                    24th Street
                    26th through 30th Streets
                    34th Street
                    40th through 44th Streets
                    47th through 52nd Streets
                    54th through 57th Streets

       Please note: there is very limited viewing north of 59th Street on the west side.

   Ah, if only someone had informed the police officers all the way down 11th Avenue! Reality intruded, and all my research was in vain. For there was not one access point open from 59th Street to 28th Street. I know. I walked from 76th Street down West End and kept heading south (after the name change) on 11th Avenue. Every single street was blocked off, and New York's finest had no idea where or if any access was available. (From what I could tell after my long, long walk, there was no access, period -- anywhere, anyhow.) Every police officer had a different suggestion, one saying go to 72nd Street (so much for the "limited viewing" idea) and another saying go down to 24th Street. What was obvious was that the police were told to let no one go west. And 11th Avenue was full of traffic, too, so you couldn't walk on the sidewalks (too crowded) or on the street (too much traffic, and police telling you, "Stay on the sidewalk!" as if you could). If you talked to people going north while you were going south, the concept of "access points" was a total crock. The police knew no more than we did.
     What a disaster! I passed thousands and thousands of people trying to find a place to watch the show, and it soon became obvious, at least to me, that there was no such place. The police would not let us stand behind the barricades to look down any of the side streets, and there was no "unobstructed view of the sky" to be found anywhere. The best bit of pavement I found was at 30th Street. 
     When the fireworks were on the East River, it was so easy to get up on the highway and find a spot to watch. While there was the occasional overhead lamp diluting the sky, all views were unobstructed. There were huge crowds, but there always seemed to be room. And I remember when the fireworks were more accessible on the Hudson -- when we could stand on the West Side Highway or down at the river's edge. (Those were the days -- walk to Riverside Park and up on the highway, then glide home in less than five minutes.)

     What I saw of this year's fireworks was through the glare of the lights of a gas station, craning my neck to see over a woman's elbow as she held her camera high to take pictures or contorting myself to see beyond a very tall man's head to catch what little was visible. Definitely obstructions galore. Boy, do I wish I had been a big shot or a celebrity or a big donor or something so I could have had a nice place to watch them! But woe, I was just a New Yorker among thousands of disappointed tourists and neighbors with a pathetic view of what I imagine was a spectacular light show. I could only try to imagine how glorious the sight must have been, based on fireworks past.
    Thank goodness the Yankees won in 12 innings today. Otherwise my Fourth would have been a total disappointment. Yes, I heard the usual oohs and ahhs during the display, and the applause following the show. But those of us who have seen the fireworks the way they're supposed to be seen could only be disappointed and wonder what the heck Macy's, and Mayor Bloomberg, and whatever powers that be who kept us penned in on 11th Avenue were thinking.
    Some people did make it further west, I suppose, since I saw them walking east wearing wide smiles as I trudged home. Did they get there early this morning and set up shop before the police manned the barricades? Once back in the hovel, I rubbed my blisters (hey, I walked a hundred blocks down and back!) and watched a news show that gave the fireworks a rave review. Oh, well. If only I'd been able to see them. 
    Maybe the mayor and Macy's will explain why the Big Apple's residents pay taxes to have our hard-working police officers let us know that if we want to see the greatest show in New York, we should head to New Jersey.

THE CHRONICLER TAKES ON CYBERSPACE

First published May 2009

Preparing a Web site is more dizzying than whirling and swirling in Relicta's spaceship. This is the first of what we hope will be frequent musings on just about anything. But first a word about this site. Purple Monster first appeared in 1976, her purpose to inject some ChristmasSpirit into a materialistic world. She's done what she can, aided and abetted by the Chronicler (who loves materialism and does her best to keep the American economy going with her spending). 

The Sagas are listed with small thumbnails of the covers and brief descriptions of the narratives. The first, second and twenty-sixth stories are given as PDFs, and perhaps more will be included at a later time. Since the North Pole paid a calorie a word, later raised to three, the CM Gang hesitates to give away more of Chronicler's work. So we hope this whets the appetite. Chronicler can be bought, so offer enough and maybe you can read a few more of the Sagas. But in the meantime, you can get more of a flavor by visiting the Christmas Monsterland page, which will introduce you to the cast of characters and some of the Monsterland lore.

The Chronicler hopes to weigh in on various subjects whenever the mood hits her. (I'm a writer. It's what I do. Who I am.) So check out this home page and The Chronicler's Tales. Whether it's about baseball or books or the highs and lows of living in the Big Apple, I generally have something to say. But on the days when I don't, check out Our Favorite Things. It has a lot of links to really cool sites and spreads the love for Derek, Sir Simon and the latest Quanz ballet and will detail the search for a good pumpernickle.

And who is the Chronicler? Hmmmm. Click on About the Chronicler. That might help. Chronicler has many interests, and many personalities.