When I blew out my birthday candles it seemed a sacrilege to wish
for anything, for anything beyond the moment itself. I just blew. No wishes...
Friday night watched "Popstar: Never stop never stopping" in bed with Gen. Laughed.
Then a hard lost tennis game to Kevin in the morning. Would rather lose than win.
And then spend the day preparing for party.
Around 4:30pm friends and family come to the Sunnyside Gardens.
Dexter brings a bottle of Hudson Valley Bourbon.
Best bourbon I've ever tasted, with a burnt caramel flavor, wood smoke.
Pass it around. Get a magic 8 Ball from KC Trommer,
Lilla brings a peach tort from patisserie, Amy brings a peach pie,
Cristina brings fancy snacks and socks, Therese a painting of a hummingbird,
Catherine a handle of rum, Nonna and Papa some delicious boursin cheese,
Marco oak aged beer, Quinn guitar strings, picks and a pear,
Tyler and Karen, wine and a watermelon: and more I'm forgetting
suffice to say it was superabundance.
Strikes me that 3 of the neighborhood friends, Justin, Tyler and KC
I also happen to know through poetry circles, Venn Diagram bonanza:
friends, parents with kids the same age as ours and poets. 3!
Just so happens that Flicks and Jazz in the Garden is scheduled on my birthday.
Hard not to take things like this personally. Because it feels personal.
Big band jazz plays for an hour. Meanwhile I throw a giant frisbee
into the air so it comes back to myself, as if I was playing catch with the sky,
while dozens of kids swirl around me trying to catch it too.
After the big band jazz the Brooklyn Raga Collective plays versions
of Beatles and Led Zeppelin, with the great Pyeng Threadgill singing.
(She's the daughter of jazz great Henry Threadgill who just won a pulitzer.)
I danced with Lucia in front of the crowd and she was so fantastic!
It was the highlight of a night filled with highlights.
Then my favorite new band The Flushing Remonstrance
played soundtracks to old experimental films,
including George Melies' Trip To The Moon.
Followed by old Felix The Cat Cartoons.
10pm and the girls are both lying on me comfortably
while we watch cartoons outside in the park. Perfect.
A wild Austrian neighborhood kid named Hans is hanging around my neck too.
I hardly know him, but it seems natural, and no one, least me, objects.
It was warm night too, with a cool breeze. Full harvest moon! No bugs!
Yes, better than I could've imagined, like when Whitman says, " O public road!
I say back, I am not afraid to leave you-yet I love you; You express me better
than I can express myself; You shall be more to me than my poem."
The night expressed me better than I could've expressed myself.
Or when Seamus Heaney says "And what happens next is a music
that you never would have known to listen for."
\
We end Saturday evening drinking port that brother-in-law Matthew
brought me by hand from Portugal, Dow special reserve. Best port I've ever had,
with distinct flavor of strawberry, raspberry, plum and chocolate.
Pairing it with Lilla's peach tort. Now that's the life!
Sunday, the weekend extends still further with a Doppio Giallo style doubles
tennis tournament in the park (can you believe this park?)
as a relief for earthquake in Italy. I'm curious what Doppio Giallo means
and Carlo says it means Double Mystery. But isn't Giallo mean yellow
I ask? Carlo says yes, but yellow in Italian also means mystery.
Do you know why I ask? But he doesn't. So now we have a giallo
giallo, why is mystery the color yellow? Afterward off to see the opening
of Mierle Laderman Ukules at the Queens Museum, thanks to a tip
from our friend Noel Black. Gen and I were so tired after epic night at park
and the doubles tournament that neither of us really wanted to go,
but we rallied! And so glad we did. Such a great show. So inspiring.
And doubly great that we got to meet her! Lucia even got an autograph.
Now thoroughly tired, and pinching myself to see if this a dream I go to sleep.
Further Edit
When I blew out my birthday candles this year it seemed a sacrilege to wish
for anything beyond the moment itself. I just blew. No wishes...
Dexter brings a bottle of Hudson Valley Bourbon.
Best bourbon I've ever had, with a burnt caramel flavor, wood smoke.
Pass it around. Get a magic 8 Ball from KC Trommer, kids go crazy,
Lilla brings a peach tort from patisserie, Amy brings a peach pie,
Cristina, fancy snacks and socks, Therese a painting of a hummingbird,
Catherine a handle of rum, Nonna and Papa delicious boursin cheese,
Marco oak aged beer, Quinn guitar strings, picks and a pear,
Tyler and Karen, wine and a watermelon: and more I'm forgetting,
suffice to say it was superabundance. Just so happens
that Flicks and Jazz in the Garden was scheduled on my birthday.
Big band jazz plays for an hour. Meanwhile I throw a giant frisbee
so it comes back to myself, as if I was playing catch with the sky,
while dozens of kids swirl around me trying to catch it too.
After the big band jazz the Brooklyn Raga Collective plays versions
of Beatles and Zeppelin, with the great Pyeng Threadgill singing.
(daughter of jazz great Henry Threadgill who just won the pulitzer.)
I danced with Lucia in front of the crowd and she was so fantastic!
It was the highlight of a night filled with highlights.
Then my favorite new band, The Flushing Remonstrance,
played soundtracks to old experimental films,
including George Melies' Trip To The Moon.
This was followed by old Felix The Cat Cartoons.
Soon it was 10pm and the girls were both lying on me
comfortably, while we watch cartoons outside in the park. Perfect.
A wild Austrian neighborhood kid, Hans, hanging around my neck too.
I hardly know him, but it seems natural, and no one, least me, objects.
It was warm night, with a cool breeze. Full harvest moon! No bugs!
Better than I could've imagined, like when Whitman says,
" O public road! I say back, I am not afraid to leave you-yet I love you;
You express me better than I can express myself; You shall be more t
to me than my poem." The night expressed me better than I could've.
Or when Seamus Heaney says "And what happens next is a music
that you never would have known to listen for."
We end Saturday evening drinking port that brother-in-law Matthew
hand delivered from Portugal, Dow special reserve. Best port
I've ever had, with distinct flavor of strawberry, raspberry, plum
and chocolate. Pairing it with Lilla's peach tort. Now that's the life!
Sunday, the weekend extends still further with a Doppio Giallo style doubles
tennis tournament in the park as a relief for earthquake in Italy.
I'm curious what Doppio Giallo means. Carlo says it means Double
Mystery. But isn't Giallo mean yellow I ask? Carlo says yes,
but yellow in Italian also means mystery. Do you know why? I ask
But he doesn't. So now we have a giallo about giallo.
Why is mystery the color yellow in Italian? It's a mystery.
Afterward off to see the opening of Mierle Laderman Ukules
at the Queens Museum. Gen and I were so tired after night before
and the doubles tournament that neither of us really wanted to go,
but we rallied, and so glad we did. Such a great show. So inspiring.
And doubly great that we got to meet Mierle! Now thoroughly tired,
and pinching myself to see if this all might be a dream before fall asleep.
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