On A Boat Pond - October 17, 1981 - Journal

Autumn settles on the boat pond
Central Park trees
Green to Orange to Yellow
On the pond
Two radio-controlled sloops
Race
Driven South
By a crisp Northwesterly
An imitation
America Cup___

Here
Central Park
Not the East Village
Rosy red cheek children
Run around the pond
An arm's reach
From foreign nannies and young mothers___

I remember being young
Change of autumn
Of an October wind
Through the trees
Of the Blue Hills.
Like then
All the colors
So special
The blue of the sky
The white of the clouds, silver and gray too__

Now
Autumn
Transforming the trees' color spectrum
From Green to yellow to orange to red
Under
The strong sunlight of October
Hearing the children's laughter
Remember mine
And my mother's laughter
So long ago in our backyard
In the Blue Hills.
Laughter...

Cold As A Witch's Teat

Tonight's weather has been predicted to be the rainy, which will certainly be better that New Year's Eve 2018, the coldest end of the year in the history of New York.

I've been in other cold nights in this city.

Most memorial.

1971.

Doctor Nick, Wayne Shephard, Eddie Mickie, and Wayne's sister drove up to Central Park for concert.

In Nick's Mini-Cooper.

Eddie weighed 450.

He sat in the front.

The biggest man this side of Andre the Giant.

We parked by the Plaza Hotel. The cold wind was sharp as an ice razor. Every exhalation hung as frost before our faces. It was deep winter.

Eddie walked about two-hundred paces and then sat on a bench.

"I can't make it any farther."

"To the concert," asked Wayne.

"Either way." He was hyperventilating hard.

"You cold?"

"No, I just can't walk no more."

"Not in this weather."

We retreated from the park and returned to Eddie house.

It was nice and warm.

Tonight it's raining and I'm thinking of staying in, but there's always a chance I might gone out.

I do like the nightlife.