time marches on, mr. chips, beginnings and the radish

mes amis,

1. non ci sono piu le mezze stagioni

has another season come and gone? my how swiftly flies the time! just hier soir i was at a fête for poets in the outer reaches of the borough, a place called bathtub beach. most strange and marvelous! like being on vacation in one’s own city.

rosé was on tap and a blueberry cobbler was not eating itself(!) though the air was muggy, topics circulated about the season past and the academic year to come. i found myself asking, “so, what about you, handsome fellow? did you have a good summer?” my ears could barely believe it!

nothing says a change in season like rosé

nothing says a change in season like rosé

i know that stalwarts  and sticklers will say, “but kippy, summer technically doesn’t end until later this month!” to them i say, “sorry friend, you are wrong.” for i bow to a higher power than paper calendars. i bow to truth! i bow to the sun! anyhoo. off we dive into autumn. fall into the gap.

2. the potato chip of choice

today i am at the office-i-frequent-mondays-through-fridays, though this too is about to change. my new fall schedule dictates that i work from home on mondays and wednesdays to coincide with my academic dealings (also afoot in the outer borough).

allora, i went on one of my solitary walks and found, even after getting my soup card punched, that i was still chilled from the office air. i ambled onward and found myself in a deli i pop into from time to time. i often get a 50 cent potato chip bag, but today i spotted cape cod potato chips. dear sweet creations, my heart sang! so too did it pang! for i recall, as a youth, going to the cape cod potato chip factory. oui mes amis c’est vrais!



i am not sure what prompted my parents to take me to this location, but i watched in both awe and terror as we proceeded along the factory floor. the potato machines, to my whippersnapper stature at least, were massive. most striking of all though was watching people rake the potato chips to ensure they were covered in the proper amount of salt. and the hairnets, oh! the employees looked so morose raking those chips and wearing those uniforms. i don’t recall it whether it was mère or père winston who leaned down to tell me a waggish warning “careful. if you don’t study hard, you may end up having to work here!”

these words have echoed in my brain ever since! and yet, i wonder: would i be happier raking potato chips or attending an office mondays through fridays? one can never know.

3. beginnings

it was with great relish i attended a saturday evening viewing of hank willenbrink’s the boat in the tiger suit, my first official public relations media mogul client. mama mia! what joy. the audience was full to the brim and it was exciting to spot hank and director jose zayas buzzing about. i even spotted the stage manager teddy nicholas whom i’d recently caught singing (and strumming) at dixon place lounge. so many stars in attendance. noel allain of the bushwick starr, morgan jenness of dramturgy street and alice reagan a director par excellence. the play was a hoot–expertly written, directed and performed–but also deeply philosophical with underpinnings that left me mulling in the coming days. bravi a tutti (not that i’m biased, zing!)

a very tony photo of the week

a very tony photo of the week

4. the radish

coming to a cuny near you, look for it at prelude 2013!

a bientot!


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