New Yawk, New Yawk

Ten years ago this month, I took a monumental Cherney Journey to the city so nice they named it twice. You know, the place that if you could make it there, you'll make it anywhere. And just like the other song says, it's a helluva town.   

                       

I am speaking of course about New York, New York. The vacation back in 2011 was transformative for my heart and soul. The main reason my wife and I went to NYC was to meet my fresh out of the oven baby granddaughter Aefa and, oh my land, it was love at first sight. But the rest of the trip was gravy, my friends and I was soaking in it. 

It was just like an MGM musical and about as as realistic. For some unknown but so welcome and magical reason, NYC became the city I had only dreamed of, a mystical place where anything could happen and gosh darn it to heck, it sure felt like it did. That summer I was Gene Kelly, but I probably came off more like Jules Munshin.

I've had a special affinity for this magnificent bastard of a city probably since the day I was born. It always held a mystic quality for me, a faraway magic land where anything and everything is possible unless it decides to kick your scrawny ass to the curb like it almost did back in 1975. It scared the holy crap out of me, but I got by on my naivete' and youthful hubris somehow, some way. Perhaps that all rose to the surface again in 2011, a fountain of youth I desperately needed. 

Being there just before the 10th anniversary of 9/11 proved to be more important than I realized at the time. When those planes hit the World Trade Center and brought NYC to its knees, I was rooting for it to get right back up before the count of ten and stand on its two feet again, which it did, the big lug.

What really got into my bone marrow on this trip was Brooklyn. I hadn't felt a sense of belonging to a place since San Francisco back in the 70s. Perhaps I lived there in a previous life and my ancestors were calling to me. All I know is that I've always wanted to return, but here I am in 2021 and it ain't happened yet. 

It's probably for the better. My rose-colored view of New York and all its magnificence would be probably be shattered as soon as reality set in and I wouldn't have the safety net of returning to Portland, Oregon, a place with its own set of troubles, not the least of which that it is turning into New York in the 1970s. And with this bloody pandemic still upon us, nowhere looks very inviting these days.

But I have these great memories and am grateful for each every one of them. New York showed me a good time and will remain as a holy spot on earth as far as I'm concerned. I will be eternally grateful to my daughter Lindsay and son-in-law Chris who sponsored this amazing Cherney Journey, giving the world their beautiful and talented daughter Aefa and along the way, their new force of nature, Aefa's sister Athena. Howe I feel about New York actually pales in comparison to the love I have for this family I have been blessed to have been a part, the gift that keeps on giving. 

Below are links to my blog posts from 2011, the grand adventure that was and always will be for me in the kingdom known as New York, New York.

THESE VAGABOND SHOES

STRAIGHT INTA BROOKLYN

HELLO, MY CONEY ISLAND BABY

SEND IN THE DANCING MORMONS

GOOD NIGHT, HURRICANE IRENE

More Cherney Journeys, like the continuation of my South Africa saga PLEASE HOLD THUMBS:

CHERNEY JOURNEYS

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

That moment when you realize that we're not engulfed in a cloud of smoke, but only fog. Sweet, wonderful natural fog. Then that fog burns to reveal, oh, we are still engulfed in smoke. If that's not a metaphor for 2020, I don't know what is. 

I find it very disconcerting to bitch and moan about smoke when over a half million people in Oregon has been evacuated from their homes due to the devastating fires about the state. After all here we are, sequestered in our apartment, far from being displaced ourselves, though always on alert just in case. Then you check the statistics and discover that, due to the raging blazes we are surrounded by, the air quality is the worst in the entire world. We're Number One, Oregon! Three cheers! Hip..hip..cough..hack...choke...

This has been absolutely brutal. Thanks to my job, I've been out in this mess since it began and it has been miserable. Fortunately for me, I've been out of the danger zones, but I can't say the same for my co-workers, some of whom have had to abandon ship to bug out with their families of their own neighborhoods. I haven't seen the effects of the fires up close and personal, only what they have left in the atmosphere. Driving about has been eerie as hell, not being able to see downtown Portland at all when it was less than a mile away. Crossing a bridge, I had to strain to see the Willamette River. 

It occurred to me that only a few months ago, highways and by-ways, streets and sidewalks were all  deserted when the pandemic struck. I wondered if it was scarier to see it or to not see it all. We've always been told the there's nothing more frightening than the unknown. If we could visualize it all, would that tangible evidence make it easier to cope? Then this happened and set the claustrophobic levels into the red zone...literally. Maybe it's the combination of everything. Whatever the case may be, at least we know the fires will be extinguished and the smoke will eventually dissipate. Rain is on the way, at least that's the rumor AKA the forecast. The long-lasting effects will be the next obstacle to overcome and we shall, won't we?

This is happening during the anniversary of 9/11, the time to recall the events of that rotten day in history, but more importantly, salute those who both lost and gave their lives during that tragedy and since, given that they were in the thick of things, breathing in the poisons left behind when the towers fell. 9/11 gave us newfound and deserved respect to first responders and their spirits have lived on in those who have been on the frontlines of this Coronavirus debacle and the devastation of the fires all over the West Coast. Their efforts give the rest of us hope. Remember what is? 

We the People, goddamn it.

Now pass the Visine.

Osama bin Livin'

A package arrived at Al-Qaeda headquarters this morning. Unwrapping it, they discovered a dead salmon wrapped inside a newspaper.


"What the hell is this?" one Al-Qaeda member asked.

"It's a Sicilian message. It means Osama bin Laden sleeps with the fishes."

I have mixed feelings about the news that U.S. forces reportedly killed Public Enemy Scumbaggio Numero Uno Osama bin Laden. It's not that I'm sorry he's gone. Far from it. It's too bad he wasn't aborted years ago so that this evil fuck was never born into this world at all. Set the Way-Back Machine and bring a knitting needle. What this horrendous piece of filth put this world through in his life and time can never be undone and, yeah, we're better off without him and would have been even better off if he never existed in the first place. Should have been caught alive? According to the reports, it wasn't an option, but then again, he was unarmed. It would have been great to see him do the perp walk, but then what? Stick him in Gitmo for Allah knows how long so that he could really think about the consequences of his actions. A lengthy nonsensical trial and, throwing himself on the mercy of the court, is sent to prison where the poor unfortunate lad can be rehabilitated and released back into society as a fine upright citizen who paid his debt to society?

NAHHHHHHHHH.......

Let's just say I'm skeptical, but just don't try to demonize me as as a conspiracy theorist. In the wake of the Birther bullshit (the latest salvo sponsored by that hump Donald Trump) along with the onslaught of other wackjob cock-a-doodle-doo, I understand the trepidation. There are just a lot of questions and doubts that I have in my mind that are confusing me at this very important moment in time. This burial at sea business sounds kind of suspect. You could say after a cap was popped in Osama's noggin, he was fitted with a cement overcoat. (That IS the Chicago way, isn't it, Mr. President?) No trace of a body, but then again, what if Osama was bombed into submission in one of those damn caves where they claimed he was hiding out, (They found him a suburb. Swell. Was he just sitting down to watch THE AMAZING RACE when the Navy Seals busted in?) there'd be no way to confirm his death then either, but this story is too pat so far. Shot in the head. Well, that's what is known as The Money Shot, that's for sure, but the whole operation seemed so Tom Clancy-ish, a little too slick to be completely credible. This story just keeps changing day-to-day, back and forth, to and fro, down is up, up is down, a mystery wrapped in a riddle wrapped inside an enigma...you know the Oliver Stone drill by now, don't you?

I can't help but be suspicious. I am a product of my environment. In my lifetime, but especially in the eleven years since 9/11, we have been fed a series of deceitful lies and half-truths passed off as facts by the Powers that Be, that is, when they decided to tell us anything at all. The crap they spoon fed us following those darkest of days hit us when we were at our most vulnerable and gullible. (WMDs, anyone?) I can't take what we are being told at face value anymore. Doing so has gotten into most of the mess find ourselves at this very moment. Maybe in the age of instant information and gratification, I'm expecting too much, too soon as it drifts in from the fog of war.

And I don't mean to piss on anybody's death parade. Killing bin Laden does provide more than just modicum of closure. It's also a helluva story. No time in American history have we been able to kill the bad guy. Remember, Hitler killed himself. Al Capone was picked up for tax evasion. So this was a golden opportunity. The timing couldn't be better, right before the tenth anniversary of 9/11 and a year before the election.

So what would convince me? Pictures? Not in the age of Photoshop. A body? Too late. He's shark chum. DNA evidence? The results were supposedly given before President Obama gave the announcement that he was killed. What is it I want exactly?

The answer is simple:

I don't know.

I only know this. I know that I want is for my government to stop lying to me. It's silly. It's naive. It's too much to ask. Maybe for once, they can tell us the truth. I don't want to to feel this way. It's been tearing me up all week long as I keep debating with myself whether I should post this at all. I don't write this to dishonor those who perished on 9/11 or those who have given their lives since then (with one main exception). Quite the contrary. It is because of those who died that we should really know what the hell happened and not be sold a bill of goods that just don't seem to add up. More and more, it's becoming nothing but smoke and mirrors. Just get your stories straight, people! You owe it to the dead, to the living and you owe it to yourselves.

And if Osama bin Laden is indeed dead, then good riddance to bad rubbish. Saddam Hussein, Adolph Hitler and Pol Pot have a fourth for bridge. That would make it a final score, in overtime:
Obama 1, Osama 0. (Sorry, W. You couldn't get 'ir done)

But if this all turns out to be a fairy tale, a shuck and jive, a flaming paper bag of shit, don't ask us to put out the flames. You lit it. You step on it.

I hope I'm wrong because I don't want to right. Because like the lyrics from the song by Sting:

"If I ever lose my faith in you,
There'll be nothing for me to do."

And that is a sad, sorry situation indeed.

At the End of the Decade

And so it ends as always with a CNN re-broadcast of the ball falling in Times Square to signal the beginning of the New Year...and in this case, decade as well. What an odd and somewhat pathetic manner in which to chronicle the passage of time, but this is how some of us mark this event in other zones other than Eastern Standard. What better way to end an era than a celebratory rerun. Kind of a bastardization of the space/time continuum, isn't it? No wonder Dick Clark stayed looking so young for so long.

The last ten years began ever so auspiciously at one second past midnight in 2000 with the Y2K boondoggle (AKA The End of the World As We Know It) It should gave us all a big damn clue of how the rest of the decade was going to be. We were at the brink of DOOM...until we weren't. We breathed a big sigh of relief and went about our business, not learning a damn thing about the major disaster that never happened.

By the end of the year came the Endless Presidential Election that signalled the beginning of the next Civil War, the Reds vs the Blues. This battle that keeps escalating day after day turning as the flames of hatred keep getting fanned by a bunch of mental media midgets in the name of higher ratings with zero accountability and Internet snipers with even less credibility or even souls.

The following year came the real Day the Earth Stood Still...9/11. The worst thing that could have happened did and in the most absurd manner possible. The Kamikazes of yesterday had become the airline terrorists of today. Suddenly we came together as one in our grief and in that shock and sorrow came a glimmer of hope that we might just get through this as one. It wasn't meant to be since united we stand, divided we fall and the Powers that Be found that is was easier to keep us in line if we fought amongst ourselves instead the ones who got us there in the first and last places. And if that doesn't do it, they'll make sure they make us live in fear. If they keep us cowered, they can keep us in line.

If that wasn't enough, we went to war...somewhere else. Many of us bought it at the time since we still had vengeance in our hearts and minds. But we got sidetracked. Iraq was a divergence so we missed the sleight of hand trick that became the longest running practical joke in the history of futility and we looked for ways to find the nearest exit until it became as fruitless as trying to get out of a gym membership. Hey, I hear we're finally getting out of there...only to go around the corner to Afghanistan.

Then Mother Nature went on a drunken tirade and sent her nasty ass bitch daughter Katrina to lay waste to a chunk of the country. Just to make matters worse, the aftermath became one of the most shameful events of modern times. 9/11 was an example of what evil forces from the outside could do to our country. Katrina was an example of what evil we could do to ourselves.

The collapse of the economy, global warming and the denial of gay rights...oh, my what an obscene mess the world has become in ten short years. That glimmer of hope many of us hoped for in the guise of a new administration has dimmed to a small burning ember that isn't enough to even light your cigarette, but that's okay since there's no smoking anyway.

For myself, my mother died two months after 9/11, ending a long illness that took her mind and body long before she eventually passed. Some good friends were also lost in those years as well the final decimation of my beloved Pollardville. Two jobs went by the wayside along the way making everyday life even more of a struggle than it is already especially when that goddamn Sword of Damocles keeps waving to and fro, ready to lob over its next innocent victim in a cruel game of chance.

Okay. Enough of a purge already. That was the Worst of the Double-Ohs. Amazingly enough, we have been resilient enough to withstand even the most devastating of times and even manage to prevail in many situations, driving around the potholes in the road and maintain our journeys.

Since this is my damn blog, let's talk about me some more. I have managed to have 5 of my works published in a ten year period, an accomplishment I may not be able to match in volume but still plan to surpass in substance. I appeared on stage twice, once in a local production of ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST and another at the last Pollardville show ever. I've had a life changing trip to South Africa. and I've found a home here in Oregon surrounded by like minded weirdos along with a family that has taught the true meaning of unconditional love for the very first time.

So I end the Double 00s sad about the nature of the world but oddly optimistic about myself. I say oddly because it has never been part of my nature to feel comfortable in my own skin, kind of like an old shoe. Just call me Hush Puppy. Maybe the aging process it having a positive effect on me after all.

Then again, I could be in denial. Now THAT'S comfort!

Next up: The Best of the Decade

Yeah, like you care...