Montauk Train # 20

Montauk Train # 10
8:18 out of Jamaica EMD diesel hauling passengers East All the way east To the last stop Montauk___ Last day of autumn December 20 Gray morning Almost winter 34 degrees outside Comfortable on the train Another two hours to Montauk Passing through the Long Island suburbs Small houses From the 50s and 60s For the parents of baby boomers Fleeing the city The small apartments The dirty streets The others___ Safe clean and space to breathe Beaches only minutes away Living the American dream__ Still looks that way From the 8:18 to Montauk No one on the streets Only cars One deer by a pond No other sign of life___ I know this life Suburbs of the South Shore In the Blue Hills South of Boston These houses So familiar Even after leaving the suburbs in 1976__ The East Village, London, Paris, Hamburg, Yucatan, LA, Bali, Thailand so many remote places Far from the suburbs But not today Just outside the window Family house, Christmas decorations, empty Street, bare trees, more marshes now Soon out of the suburbs On the 8:18 to Montauk Eastward bound__

December 19, 2024

Almost two years since my liver transplant. I'm on the Q train crossing the East River. Over the years I've probably crossed he Manhattan Bridge thousands of times. Today it's to Weill-Cornell hospital on the Upper East Side. Yesterday while taking care of Professor Berthell Ollman I noticed my abdomen swelling and the sensation of pressure. Back at 387 I stepped on the scale. Up two pounds in a day. If I've learned anything over the last years it's if something doesnt feeling good, check on it. Last night and this morning I called the transplant doctor on call. This morning she suggested my heading up to the ER to get blood work. The express train is passing 23rd Street. I'll be there by 8. Coffee and a bagel. Unfortunately I will be missing a day's work. Tant pis. Such is life. Happy Holidays.

Later

Almost noon. A MRI. A long one, as the nurse checks all my vents for bleeding. The screen shows the blue blood in the veins and the red oxygenated. Almost an hour on the bed, as she presses the scanner to my belly. There is no pain.

Good thing I came in early. Even better that I didnt go out to Montauk. Blood work. No eating. No drinking. Waiting for a Cat Scan. Cold back here.

A young couple come into the ER. The woman is in pain. The nurse examines her. She has numbness in her side. Lots of nurses in the ER. Not that many patients.

It's early in the day.

Four minutes short of noon.

No telling when I'll get the Cat Scan.

Later

ER's Cat Scan is an old one, a GE scanner from this century. The tech said he had performed fifteen scans since morning. Fifteen minutes each

Central Park Boat Pond 2024

October 7th 1991

Autumn settles on the boat pond Central Park trees Green to Orange to Yellow On the pond To radio controlled sloops Race Through fallen leafs__ An imitation America Cup Both sailing south Driven on a crisp northwesterly___ Central Park Not the East Village Rosy red cheeked children Race around the pond At Arm's Reach From four nannies Three young mothers___ I remember my youth The change of seasons Summer to autumn I remember the wind Through the trees Of the Blue Hills All the colors So special The blue of the sky The white of the clouds Silver and gray too And the trees___ The leaves Green yellow red Under The strong sunlight Hearing the children's laughter Remember mine And my mother's laughter So long ago in our backyard In the Blue Hills. Laughter Same as Central Park Forever young___

Friday The 13th

From 2012

The USA has been fighting a decades-old war against Al-Al-Qaeda.

At one time its founder, Osama Bin Ladin had been our ally in the insurgency against the Soviets in Afghanistan. His family had ties to power brokers in Washington. Bin Laden's schism with the West began in 1990 with the stationing of foreign troops on the holy soil of Saudi Arabia after Gulf War I. At odds with the royal family OBL sought refuge in Sudan and allied himself with several Arab militant groups aiming to overthrown the no-secular dictatorships of the Middle East as well as any kingdoms backed by the West.

With the collapse of the Soviet Empire, the USA re-assessed the threats to its power and identified Al-Qaedaas a lynchpin of the widening cabal. The Luxor massacre in 1997, his soldiers aid to the Taliban, and the 1998 U.S. Embassy bombings proved the seriousness of his fatwa against the West and the FBI placed the Yemeni-born terrorist on the Top Ten Most Wanted list along with Whitey Bulger, the infamous Southie gangster.

The CIA reported throughout the summer of 2001 that OBL was funding a scheme to launch hijacked airliners at targets in the United States. George W Bush ignored the danger and his staff didn't even bother to read an August 6, 2001 report entailing the plot. America paid heavily for that blase attitude on 9/11.

The FBI upgraded his status to Most Wanted # 1.

The Bush regime never came close to capturing or killing the fugitive. His ghost haunted America. He was reputedly living under the aegis of the ISI, Pakistan's secret service operation. The full weight of US power could neither bring him to justice dead nor alive.

On May 2, 2012 several teams of Navy SEALS infiltrated Pakistan to attack a guarded compound several kilometers from that country's military academy. In the ensuing firefight Osama Bin Laden was executed by a double tap. He was unarmed at the time. His corpse was evacuated to a US aircraft carrier and after a swift religious rite his body was dumped into the sea. President Obama watched the entire operation via satellite after a night of entertaining reporters with a satirical riposte against the GOP at the White House Correspondents dinner.

"The order was to kill him."

The USA and its allies rejoiced at the news of his death. The Taliban and many in the Arab world doubt the USA could bring down the superstar of terror. Revenge has been promised against the West. The GOP has yet to congratulate the president on this successful mission and 16% of fat white men still believe that Barrack was born outside the USA.

Can't a brother get a break?

Food Superstitions in Thailand

From 2008

Thais have more superstitions than the Irish and some of them are devoted to food, since it's their third greatest love behind having fun and sleep.

Here's a short list of don't.

Eating a double banana will give a woman twins, which must be tough for those showgirls doing the banana tricks at go-gos.

Eating before your elders will reincarnate you as a dog. This rule is waved for disasters and fast food restaurants.

Eating food without rice will give you rickets.

Eating salt under a tree will kill the tree.

Eating other people's food without permission will swell your throat, so schnorrers beware. Schnorrer is a Yiddish term for people who eat of another person's plate without permission. I'm sure there's lots of Yiddish superstitions too.

Eating a kids' left-overs will make them naughty.

Eating before monk during the day will turn you into a ghost.

Eating corn with the flu will raise your temperature.

Never eat all the rice on your evening plate. Leave a little for the ghosts.

Eating chicken feet will give you bad handwriting. My wife loves chicken feet. Yech.

Eating chili sauce from a mortar bowl will give your kid big lips.

Eating turtles will make you walk slow. Eating chicken feet make me sick.

The last is about eating dog. I've feasted on dog in Indonesia. It doesn't taste like chicken. feet. It's actually delicious, but Thais think if you eat it, then you will be possess by the dog's spirit. Arf Arf.
<>Is that such a bad thing?

For a related article click on this URL

http://www.mangozeen.com/friday-the-13th-7-13-2007.htm

48D Long Freedom

From 2022

I loved the old Times Square.

Now it's a tourist trap waiting the rebirth of a generation of vicious Fagins, the criminal kingpin of Charles Dickens' OLIVER TWIST.

I have more respect more respect for the ruthless thieves of the 70s than the XXXXL tourists stuffing their faces with fast food on the ruins of Forty-Deuce.

Now the Times Square Association complains about the near-nude buskers such as Ms. 48D Long as eyesores.

I love her.

And I hate squares.

And so does the past.

BET ON CRAZY / Naked Women

Published 2007

Rough diamonds are predominantly mined from volcanic vents in Africa, Australia, Russia, and Canada. After that process separated into parcels for the London sight-holders, who have the stones cut in Antwerp, Israel, or India. The finished products are divvied out to various diamond brokers and then brought over to various diamond markets across the world. Over 80% of the diamonds sold in the USA pass through Manhattan's West 47th Street, making the block between Fifth and Sixth Avenues a crossroads of the world for jewelry. kmv c Sapphires and rubies from the Orient are transported here from Hong Kong and Bangkok, while Israelis brave the dangers of Columbia for precious emeralds. Having handled jewelry for over ten years, I sometimes act as if I were dealing with chopped liver at a deli counter. We are, however, occasionally blessed with something to get excited about, an opportunity to deal with truly valuable gems.

Several years back my boss and good friend, Richie Boy, was introduced to a big player from the West Coast. A CEO of several companies, this man had expressed interest in purchasing a Christmas gift for his mistress, a blonde from Palm Beach who was married to another millionaire. Botox preserved her beauty, although her eyes told her age.

The call was for a very rare ruby. It had to be over five carats, a natural from Burma, internal perfect, and the color of the blood seeping from a pigeon's nose. The vein, not the artery. In his own way he was a bit of a poet.

Richie Boy phoned several dealers and within a day came up with a stone. It wasn't cheap. The dealer flatly told us, "875,000 dollars and I don't want to hear any bitching about the price."

The dealer bought the stone down. It was not big, but the color was a sublime blood red hue, and clean. Not a single flaw. Richie Boy asked me, "What do you think?"

"It doesn't look like a house in Montauk with a beach view, but what do I know?"

Richie Boy agreed and decided to get two diamond necklaces for back-up. He then called the client, who said he was interested, but wanted us to meet him at his tenth floor suite at the St. Regis Hotel.

Richie Boy's father was from Brownsville, very old school, and he immediately announced that we were being set up. Neither of us disagreed, since we would be carrying over a million dollars in jewelry into a hotel room to meet people we didn't really know.

His father wanted to kibbosh the entire deal. Richie Boy, however, loaded his 9mm. I told him to put it away. Richie hadn't shot the weapon in years.

"You pull a gun and you have to use it. You don't, then the robbers will." "You carry it." Richie offered me the 9mm.

"No weapons." I put the gun back in the safe.

"The goy is right. The merchandise is insured. If we get robbed it counts as a sale." Manny was right, then again he was 100% right about 7% of the time

I rolled a newspaper.

"You're bringing reading material." Manny shook his head.

"No, it's a weapon."

"Yes." Richie had seen me break someone's nose at the Underground disco with a magazine. "He knows how to use it."

"My heroes. Try and sell something."

Richie stuck the jewelry inside his suit coat. "How do I look?"

"Like one boobs is bigger than the other."

His father swore we were crazy. He was right, but said, "Sie gesund."

With his blessing we set off for the St. Regis Hotel. We arrived at the hotel without incident. Two guests tried to get on the elevator with us, but both Richie Boy and I glared a warning for them to take the next car up. He pressed the button for the seventeenth floor.

There Richie and I walked down the corridor like we were being set up. All senses on 10. reaching the customer's room, Richie rang the bell. A woman laughed inside and several seconds later the door opened. Both of us stared, because the blonde wasn't wearing any clothes. Her boyfriend was on the couch, in a bathrobe.

"Lady, could you move away from the door," I asked in a low voice, gesturing with the NY Times.

The tanned middle-aged man frowned, "Who are you?"

People like him weren't used to taking orders.

"No offense." Richie took the two diamond necklaces from his jacket. "He's the protection for these."

He draped the diamonds on the woman's bare neck and she went over to the man's side. Even though they weren't dressed I still didn't trust them, but by the end of an hour Richie had sold one of the necklaces. We took a cashier's check for more money than either of us could earn in several years, but Richie wasn't happy, because he hadn't sold the ruby.

"There was no way you were going to sell that stone," I said.

"And why not?"

"Because no man, and I don't care how rich he is, will buy a million-dollar gift for another man's wife," I said.

"Don't be so negative," he said. "You never know."

And that is the truth.