Requiem for a Tuba

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/14/us/14tubaman.html

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My memory of the Tuba Man:

While Kitty and I lived and worked in Seattle, I was a member of the Seattle Opera Chorus. Perhaps more importantly, I was a busker down at the Pike Place Market on my lunch breaks. I would put out a coffee cup and stand on the corner singing my lungs out. I sang arias in front of tourists (not very well). It was a fun way to break down any last sense of fear that I might have had about performing.

One of the fun things about being a part of the Seattle Opera Chorus was that you could sometimes leave performances early (if we were done singing). I remember running out of the theater after shouting "Attenti agli sbocchi delle scale!!" at the end of Tosca. As I would leave the theater, beating the crowds by ten minutes (at best), I would wave to the Tuba Man as he sat blasting away "Ride of the Valkeries."

To the Tuba Man, my fellow busker: I wish I had given you a tip. I hope you're doing duets with Gabriel now.

"Where do we go now?"-- Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns & Roses

Well, we've had a great run here at the Chocolate Room! We talked a lot about the fun and weird and free and cheap things to do here in NYC. Together we made a trip to the DMV, we ate $1 dumplings, we watched the burgeoning love affair of my wife and a guy named Mamoun and we learned that a clever New Yorker really can drink booze for free.

So where are we going from here?

As you now know, Kitty and I are expecting a kid. It's pretty exciting and I'm thinking that there will be a lot of great new experiences to be had now that we going to experience the city 'a trois.'

Of course, we will still discover fun and exciting things to do here and I'll post about that. Also, I'll try not to make too many posts about my kid and its magic golden first dump... oh no, I will attempt to hold myself to a higher standard. After all, the Spud 0.9 is going to be born in the roughest, toughest city in the world and I'm sure there is a story in there somewhere.

People from Carolina know things

I won't talk much about Kitty's pregnancy because it was pretty laid back and I was told "it makes other mothers angry." I'm knocking furiously on wood right now. Consequently, we were thrilled about six months in when she got her first comment from the neighborhood about it.

Kitty and I were walking down Brevoort from the express train station when a voice came from behind us, "Well! SOMEone's having a baby! mm-HMM." At first we weren't sure if she was talking to us. We turned and smiled and waved. Our new friend wasn't content to leave it at that though.

"I just had my eighth. It's GREAT! Do you know what you are having?"

Kitty took the lead, "Nope. We're kicking it 'old school' and didn't find out."

"Well, I have eight BOYS. Nothing but trouble... Do you want to find out? Come over here, honey."

She opens the gate to her brownstone and meets us at a card table on the sidewalk where three older people are playing dominoes and smoking.

"Ma... hey, MA... Tell her what kind of kid she's going to have!"

The mother turns to us and smiles, gold teeth sparkling against the sunset. "I'm from Carolina, so I know these kinds of things," she says.

"Just relax, hon. Don't worry about what I'm going to do."

The old woman takes a drag off of her cigarette and places it down on the card table, the end hangs over the edge and falls onto the sidewalk. Still sitting, her hand reaches up and she places her hand on Kitty's throat.

After about thirty seconds she lets go, exhales her cigarette smoke and lifts the cigarette to her lips and takes another drag.

"I'm from Carolina, so I know these things... I felt two heart beats. It's a girl and HE," she motions at me with her cigarette, "is the father."

Baby Names

As some of you might know, Kitty and I are expecting an addition to the family.  In a few short weeks, our little Spud will be born and we'll have to choose a name.

If it is a girl, we'll call her Prosperity Mamoun and if it is a boy, Mamoun Prosperity.  I kid, of course, but if you have come to visit us here in the city, I'm sure you will know the references.

Mamoun's Falafel and Prosperity Dumpling are the only two restaurants in the city that we have gone to regularly and they always exceed expectations.

Mamoun's is located in the Village and provides hungry roamers with falafel (a deep fried chickpea ball) with baba ganoush, lettuce, tomatoes, tzaziki sauce and scorching hot sauce for $3.00 for each sandwich.

When the Bear found out that Kitty was pregnant, he said, "Congratulations!  Who's the father?"  The answer is easy, Mamoun.

Prosperity Dumpling is on Eldridge just north of Canal and they provide perfect pork and chive fried dumplings (5 dumplings for $1) and a sesame pancake sandwich with veggies ($1.25) or with beef ($1.50).  Kitty and I just got home from our almost weekly trip.  As we stood on line that went out of the door of the 10 square foot restaurant/stand, she said, "this time, I'm getting a second sesame pancake for the Spud."  We stood outside the little place and my eyes closed as I ate my pork dumplings.  On our way down the stairs to the subway, Kitty said, "Next time, please, don't ever let me eat two sandwiches.  I'm in a carb coma.  Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I had to try it to know, but now I'm sure... just let me eat one.  Not two."

Election Day, 2008

Today was my second experience voting in New York City. My district is in the Clinton Hill/Bed Stuy neighborhood. It's been that has been-- shall we say-- smitten with one particular candidate.

My first trip to the polls was for the primary. I got up early and the streets were barren. As I turned the corner to enter P.S. 56, a man leaning against a tree whispered, "Vote [censored]." We were well within the "no campaigning zone" but the man didn't seem to mind. I gave an uncomfortable semi-smile. "I see you're voting... you'd better be voting for [censored]." Of course, now I was turning into the building. He called after me, "I hope you are voting for [censored]!"

As I walked into the building a woman was talking on her cell phone.  As she smoked her cigarette (the first illegal thing she was doing) she muttered, "Vote [censored]... " as I walked by her.

Of course, once I got inside the voting area, everything was by the book.  It was so "by the book" that when I got to my polling station, my name wasn't on the roster.  Apparently the DMV had struck again and hadn't processed my registration from May.  Curses on you, DMV!!!  A thousand curses!!! You are my nemesis, now and forever.

Fast forward to November 4, 2008.  After watching a bruising campaign for both candidates, I woke up early and walked over the polling station with my voting confirmation in hand.  As I turned the corner, I saw a small line leading out of the front of the building.  It was 6:15 and the polls had opened only a few short minutes before.  As I walked up to the building a woman walked out with her daughter.  She lifted her up in the air and raised her up and down saying, "We made history! We made history!"

I looked past the happy woman and her daughter and I realized that the line went down to to the corner and turned right.  It then went about half way down the block.  Armed with my coffee, I went to the end of the line. 

The couple in front of me were definitely long time residents of our neighborhood.  "In all my years, I never saw a line this long," the wife said.  "I can't believe it," says her husband.  As I stood behind them for the next forty minutes as the line moves slowly but steadily forward, I heard them greet the people they knew.

"I have never been so happy to be at the end of a line," said one woman as she walked by.  The line was now down to the next block.

A woman walked past me towards the end of the line, tears running down her face as she said, "I can't believe it...  I just can't believe it."

When I got into the polling station, everything moved incredibly quickly.  I found which line I should stand on and then only one person was ahead of me.  Schools were closed for the day because all of the polling places seem to be public schools and kids couldn't eat lunches.  Instead, parents all over had their children and the kids watched as they got a civics lesson from their parents.

Evening arrived after a long day of work and Kitty and I watched election results come in over the Cnn.com.  (since we don't have tv).  At 11 a.m., when they called the election I heard people cheering outside of the window.  I put on my jacket and stood out on the stoop.  A man had come outside, put his car radio on full blast and was dancing in the street.  From the Shuttle train platform people were calling out, "we won!  we won!  HE won!"  Strangers were shaking hands and hugging as they moved past each other through the doors of the train.  Windows were opening up and down the street and people were leaning out cheering.  As I heard the people calling out to their neighbors and cheering, news radio must have announced the winner because all of a sudden, from Fulton and Atlantic, I heard a car horn go and then another and another until a chorus rose up on either side of our small block, adding to the music and the people cheering and the lone man dancing in the street.