Archive | City Matters

So Long, Stand Tall

If I can’t find the perfect Trump golden showers joke re Spicer’s word choice of “relieved” in the press release announcing the firing of Sally Yates, it’s because I’m so freaked the DT coup has already claimed an honorable Attorney General. Our country’s checks and balances are flying out the window frighteningly rapidly, though I’m deeply grateful for Yates’ bad-assery in the face of these thugs. This is a woman who will never pay for her drinks again, at least in NYC.

American Tragedy on Film

I’ve been trying to figure out why I love “Patriots Day” so much. Though I moved to New York City from Greater Boston decades ago, it’s a fact that you can take the girl out of Massachusetts, but you can’t take the Massachusetts out of a girl. And “Patriots Day,” Peter Berg’s adaptation of the book Boston Strong by Casey Sherman and Dave Wedge about the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, is one of the most Massachusetts-proud movies ever made. But I also love this docu-drama because it has enough heart and brains to help heal its audience.

The United States always has had a hard time navigating tragedy. Perhaps this is because, in the grand scale of world civilizations, we are a very young nation. When it comes to boundless optimism, this often works to our advantage. Even today, Americans tend to believe that a good attitude and persistence can change the most direst of circumstances. It is the backbone of our founding story – how we scrappy mavericks defeated the Brits – and certainly the classic Hollywood premise. But the downside of our youthfulness is a widespread, culturally reinforced immaturity. This translates into an immunity to critical thought and an inability to process complex emotions. So when confronted with trauma, we are uniquely ill-equipped to grieve without resorting to finger-pointing or dissociation. To the degree that we address our pain, we do so through the arts – especially film and television, which, even more than sports, is our common denominator. Continue Reading →

Snow Kairos

The last day of Mercury Retrograde, and snow settles over the city like the softest of blankets, stopping us in our tracks and quieting our conversations—what Lou Reed called, “Oh, oh, my, and what shall we wear/oh, oh, my, and who really cares.” This morning I ran my errands very early so I could climb indoors when the snow came, and marvel over the world growing old and young at once. I’ve heard the last weeks of December and first of January are out of time completely, and today this feels true. It’s not just that my solar return is on the 19th so these days are personally balsamic. It’s that this is the darkest period of our orbit around the sun, and as our eyes adjust to the lack of physical light, our souls have a rare opportunity to show us the way. The snow can seem cold, unforgiving, isolating. But if we listen below its stillness we can hear our hearts beating. More than that, we can hear them ringing. Clear as bells, they are saying, Only love always glows.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy