Spare Parts

Along the walls of her aging home, crowded with small reminders of a life long lived, the Baroness perused her expansive collection of books. In every corner, on every wall, bookshelves rose proudly from the plush red rugs to the arched blue ceilings. The shelves were separated by grandiose windows where sunlight and moonlight competed for equal time, when the heavy draperies were not pulled tight together. Under the mighty weight of endless knowledge, the bookshelves strained to contain the countless printed pages of Bookville's most envied library. The Baroness walked among her books, touching the tomes gently with an extended arm and long, delicate fingers. She enjoyed feeling the smooth leather bound books and the soft paperbacks and the hardbacks, too. At the end of one of her booked walls, the Baroness climbed the rolling ladder and reached for Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter . She read a few lines, recognizing and visualizing the story, then closed it and put it

{{YAWN!}} {{Stretch}} Downward dog. Upward dog. Shavasanah. Ohm!!!!!!!!!! There are few things more unpleasant than a first day back to work following a brief respite. More so if the days off consisted of what we Americans refer to as vacation time – time away from all things routine. That is precisely the place I find myself at this time, having spent a few days away from the wretched office and in the big, old state of Texas visiting friends. And now, as I sit here in the early morning hours of Thursday, staring bleary-eyed at my workplace computer, I wonder aloud how it is that during my days away I managed to neither win the lotto, or secure other means of financial gain, so as to prevent this return all together. Thus far, the morning has remained rather quiet. Few folks have stumbled out of the elevator. And if I were being completely honest, I would love it if it stayed this way. As far as I am concerned, I should be allowed to sleep at m

In June of last year, I blogged about my friend Sarah, a soon-to-be published author of young adult novels. Her first book, entitled Twenty Boy Summer , is slated to drop into bookstores in June of this year. However, having the kinds of connections in the book world that I have, I was able to come across not one, but four fresh-off-the-presses tomes that were mine for the taking. I gave the first to a coworker and she has already torn through it. Now she can't shut up about how much she related to it. The remaining copies will go to readers whom I deem worthy of such a great little story. As for the rest of you, I will nag you until you get your own copies in June. I had been on the look out for the book, since she told me, but I never imagined this stroke of luck! Someone in our author promotions area told me that to get advance reader copies out there (which is what my copies are called) means the publisher really believes in the book. I am so not shocked! Since finding the

This past Sunday, Joe Ades quietly passed away at the age of 75. Who was Joe Ades? He was the ubiquitous carrot and potato peeler and pitchman at the Farmers’ Market of Union Square . On the three days a week when the Farmers’ Market was open, Joe could be seen sitting on a tiny folding bench, five to six white plastic containers before him, peeling carrots and potatoes into them with the ease and grace of a well trained musician. On days when the market wasn’t operating, Joe was stationed by Radio City Music Hall , or somewhere on a downtown Brooklyn street. Joe Ades (pronounced AH-des) was one of those memorable, quirky New York City characters that remained both an attraction of sorts and a mystery all the same. When I first saw Joe, whose name I only learned after his death, my thoughts were not: “Oh, well there’s a happy guy keeping himself busy.” Instead, I always thought: “Poor, miserly old man! I wonder what got him to this point? At his

This entry is a bit overdue, so allow me to just plunge into it. This past Saturday, I took my niece (and Godchild) Ellie, to see Disney's The Little Mermaid on Broadway. It was just the two of us girls on the town, making a cool Saturday night of it. The evening started off a bit shaky after her parents handed her over to me in Queens, like a clandestine trade off in the dark of night at an undisclosed location. I know it sounds corny, but I needed the drama. My GPS made me take a wrong turn, and for the briefest of moments, Ellie and I were lost in Brooklyn!! I managed to calm myself, after calling my brother and re-route the GPS to find its way. Anyway, once we reached the City, it was seriously like rush hour on a Monday! There was excessive traffic, construction, and pedestrians and more everywhere we went. No joke, we stood motionless in the car on 46th street for over 10 minutes!! When we finally reached the parking garage, I pulled in, freed the child o