10. Each year Kitty and I designate it "the year of..." and choose a seasoning or cooking technique. One year it was the year of Adobo seasoning. Another it was the year of salt & pepper. This year? The year of Baker's Chocolate Chunks! I try not to be a corporate shill too much, but these are clearly superior to all others.
9. Bronx Opera. They hired me for a bunch of shows and I've learned so much. On weekends when the train service is disrupted, I could get to Maryland faster than I do my round trip to rehearsal.
8. HPD of NYC. This exists in the toughest city in the world? Sign me up.
7. Because we don't need just one Chinatown. We have two... um... make that three. And yes, I no longer have to cross a river to get myself some Prosperity Dumplings.
6. The Xbox 360. Now I have a chance to do grown-up gaming for myself and actually play with friends online! I'm killing zombies in Left 4 Dead and saving the universe in Mass Effect.
5. The Flip. Keeping distiant family members up to speed on the Peanut is easy and fun. It helps that Kitty is doing all the editing and emailing. Shout out to Web Wendy... you made the top 10!
4. I did my first audition for an international opera company. It was humbling. The second one went much, much better. (but still no word yet.)
3. The 2 train. Kind of a sleeper hit. I switched to it on my regular commute and all of a sudden it shaved 25 minutes off my commute. Sometimes you have those NYC moments when you smack yourself on the head and say, "what were you doing for the last 3 years?"
2. The ice cream sandwich at http://www.xiexieproject.com/. And the bahn-mi. But especially the ice cream sandwich.
1. 2009 was the Year of Media. Discovering that my film debut is now available. Actually, I'm a little embarrased. Back in '96 when it was made, it took about 10 takes to get my one line right (it was in freakin' Czech! Give me a break!). I was broadcast on TV as Tamino in Bronx Opera's "The Magic Flute" (thank you Bronx cable access!) and my website got a facelift. While that is all well and good for me, Kitty and The Peanut got in on the act when we were featured as the family face of the Breastfeeding Initiative for the NYC Department of Health. (sorry... no links... but I'm sure it is out there somewhere.)
Thursday, January 07, 2010
The Peanut Changes Things
It's now been just over a year since the Peanut showed up and upended our time in NYC. There are certainly the big changes of having a baby. You can read about them in one of ten thousand books, blogs and newspaper columns. I'll spare you the stories of my daughter's golden dumps and magic spit-up.
Our neighborhood has not exactly "arrived" yet. There is still an edge to it. The police presence, the pharmacy under the train station that specializes in methadone, the graffiti and the public urination still reflect New York City from another era. Please note, we don't ever feel unsafe, we just haven't had the influx of cash yet that allows cafes, bakeries and boutiques to show up yet.
The Peanut has really changed our overall experience, though. Now when we walk through our neighborhood, people recognize us. Our checkout lady, Zenab, who wears an outfit one piece of cloth shy of a burkah, calls the Peanut "her little friend." The Peanut obliges by giggling and squealing and smiling whenever we are on line at the store.
When our neighbors noticed that Kitty was pregnant, I found out that they started a neighborhood watch of sorts. From their front windows, noted when she went out for her morning run and always made sure that she made it back safely. They also questioned me on a regular basis as to whether or not she would "rattle that baby right out" with all the running.
In the week after Millie was born, the neighbor down the street sent over a dozen roses for Kitty-- the first time we ever really had contact besides some cursory "hellos." The neighbor across the street stopped us as we all left the house to introduce herself to her new neighbor and give a card and a ten dollar bill for the college fund. The guys on the stoop now ask me how that little boy is doing when I walk by in the morning. (The Peanut is a girl and I've reminded them a couple of times and lately she has been sporting a giant pink snowsuit, but I'll take their warm but inaccurate greetings over the cool indifference of the past.)
On a very rushed trip to the grocery store, I was getting ready to grab English muffins and run back home when Zenab cornered me. "I have birthday gift for my friend. Wait here." She returned with a giant gift bag with an toy telephone that talks. I was so touched that I returned to the store ten minutes later to get the English muffins that I had forgotten.
Our neighborhood has not exactly "arrived" yet. There is still an edge to it. The police presence, the pharmacy under the train station that specializes in methadone, the graffiti and the public urination still reflect New York City from another era. Please note, we don't ever feel unsafe, we just haven't had the influx of cash yet that allows cafes, bakeries and boutiques to show up yet.
The Peanut has really changed our overall experience, though. Now when we walk through our neighborhood, people recognize us. Our checkout lady, Zenab, who wears an outfit one piece of cloth shy of a burkah, calls the Peanut "her little friend." The Peanut obliges by giggling and squealing and smiling whenever we are on line at the store.
When our neighbors noticed that Kitty was pregnant, I found out that they started a neighborhood watch of sorts. From their front windows, noted when she went out for her morning run and always made sure that she made it back safely. They also questioned me on a regular basis as to whether or not she would "rattle that baby right out" with all the running.
In the week after Millie was born, the neighbor down the street sent over a dozen roses for Kitty-- the first time we ever really had contact besides some cursory "hellos." The neighbor across the street stopped us as we all left the house to introduce herself to her new neighbor and give a card and a ten dollar bill for the college fund. The guys on the stoop now ask me how that little boy is doing when I walk by in the morning. (The Peanut is a girl and I've reminded them a couple of times and lately she has been sporting a giant pink snowsuit, but I'll take their warm but inaccurate greetings over the cool indifference of the past.)
On a very rushed trip to the grocery store, I was getting ready to grab English muffins and run back home when Zenab cornered me. "I have birthday gift for my friend. Wait here." She returned with a giant gift bag with an toy telephone that talks. I was so touched that I returned to the store ten minutes later to get the English muffins that I had forgotten.
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