At the end of January 2014,
With a broken CPU
And a Song and Dance that no one wanted to listen to,
I walked through Central Park West
Amidst a dense, wet and icy, Winter Fog.
Never before had I seen such oceanic mists
Floating so ghastly across the grassy grounds.
Passing through,
I felt like some
Formless,
Colorless,
Essence,
Not sad,
Not mad,
Not anxious, nor glad but simply
Shifting through the gray vapors of some mysterious purgatory
- On my way from one realm to another –
And wondering whether if once there,
I would somehow come up with some MONEY.
I had just paid all my bills -
Rent, Credit Card, Cell Phone -
And cancelled my 24 Hour Gym Membership,
Which was okay for now,
Seeing as Trump Towers had a gym,
Virtually at my disposal, 24/7.
I didn’t know exactly how much was in my Checking Account,
But knew it was something in the range
Of 8 or 9 dollars;
$2 Dollar Bill aside,
My wallet was empty.
In any case,
I was headed to Trader Joe’s
To buy the Day’s Essentials.
At 72nd Street, I took the Strawberry Fields Exit of Central Park West,
Nodded my head in acknowledgment to the
John Lennon ‘IMAGINE’ Memorial
- Decorated of colorful flower petals, as always -
And stepped out into the open streets
Where the circulation of Tourist, Cabi and Horse-Drawn Taxi
Had whirred and whisked away the fog,
Once and for all.
The afternoon was still gray, but the temperature was warming.
As I walked, the Sun started peaking in and out of the thick clouds,
While the dirty snow,
Piled along the roadside,
Was slowly, but surely, melting.
And walking along,
I pondered what struggles and challenges remained ahead,
In knowledge that I had been through enough street-side
To know that if there were ever a
SETTING, for SURVIVAL via OPPORTUNITY
It could be found in NYC.
Throughout my life,
I had always known I was at the wheel,
Driving my Destiny along to where I want it To Be…
That being said,
It has become clear to me that the Fates do play their part
In endowing the Means and the Timing,
Accordingly…
That the Journey veers far and wide across the singular line of Expectation.
I can say in honesty that 5 years ago,
I would have never anticipated myself roughing it wild
Just up the block from the Stock Exchange,
But for reasons beyond me,
Felt the Pull of Manhattan, NYC,
And for reasons beyond me
The Attraction won’t let go…
I can say in honesty that if a 5 months ago,
Someone had said to me:
‘Hey, why don’t you start writing a Blog?’
My response would have been something along the lines of:
‘What kind of Dandy has time to start writing a Blog?’
The STORY is DESTINY,
And DESTINY, MOMENTUM,
The MOMENTUM that one builds through the years and ages
And given how much I’ve given to get going to this
Present,
I know that my CRUSADE is not going to end
Until the Engine arrives at some Spectacle of Ceremony.
Am I being clear?
For the last 7+ years,
My life has been nothing but Devotion and Training and Practice.
I have gone through the cycles,
Time and Again,
Starting with a New Hope,
Riding High
Until the Empire Struck Back with a Momentous Slash
That cast me astray,
Until now,
Returned,
Dressed in Black,
Ready and Awaiting to Fight and Obey
Whatever Obstacles and Opportunities present
Themselves as the Way unto my Will
And if you so choose, you could start to read your Universe, too…
Frills and whistles aside,
I stepped into Trader Joe’s,
Which though ain’t so High Caliber as Whole Foods Market,
The Price is Right;
Ain’t nowhere I been in U.S.A. where you can get yourself a banana for .19 a pop.
I got my items and cut to the checkout line.
I had one bright orange Tangelo for my fix of Vitamin-C,
I had two .19 Cent Bananas for my fix of Vitamin-P,
And last but not least,
One six-pack of Brooklyn Winter Ale for my fix of Vitamin-H
- Which just in case one is curious, stands for ‘HEAVY’ -
Bcuz when you’re living in a Global Hub of World Economy
With pockets empty,
It’s always good to have something HEAVY at hand.
Also,
I had one Mango,
Which wasn’t for me,
But for one of the Trump Tower Honeys –
One of the Sisters I was going to stop by and see and present with the Gift.
Walking through the line,
I was looking over the Birthday/Anniversary/Get Well Soon Cards
Posted on the wall.
I started reading one that read -
‘I am a Feather for each Wind that blows…’
“Number 17,” said the Crew Member.
She was pointing to Cash Register 17 to which I duly headed.
“Ah, so you work construction, huh?”
I was at the checkout counter,
Watching Joey scan my items,
When he had asked me this question.
Joey was referring to my Neon Highlighter Sweatshirt,
Which had an illustrated decal of a City Skyline and a Crane and Crew at Work.
Around the image were words that read –
* CONSTRUCTION WORKERS * BUILDING AMERICA *
I had bought this sweatshirt several months before,
Soon after I’d arrived for the second time in NYC,
From a vendor who had set up shop right outside a Construction Site.
“I work it Major,” I answered, and left it at that.
Joey took a second to check out
How amazingly bright orange the sight of that Tangelo was,
And then got back to me.
“I got a good friend in Construction,” he said, “He’s with fellas over at Turner Construction; you heard of them?”
I shook my head.
“No…” I said, “But as long as their Building America, they’re fine by me.”
Joey nodded.
“So what organization are you with?”
It turned out Joey was more curious than the rest of them,
But recognizing he was only keeping his day moving,
I kept my eyes on the road and my hands upon the wheel.
“BLONDYN.”
Joey frowned like one of those cute puppy dogs you sometimes see looking up to you.
“BLONDYN?”
I swiped my card.
“You heard of him?”
Joey shook his head.
“Debit,” I said, and then proceeded typing in my secret code. “Here goes nothing…”
I was holding my breath,
When Joey started frowning at the Machine like one of those cute puppy dogs,
That all of a sudden noticed another dog
From a different neighborhood
Trespassing and sniffing on the same side of the street…
Approaching!
“Insufficient Funds,” he explained.
I winced for show and held it for effect.
“Say it ain’t so, Joe,” said I, buying time while calculating fast on what to do. “But anyways, why don’t you take off the two bananas.”
Joey nodded slow,
As though my suggestion wasn’t such a bad idea,
Just not necessarily the most expedient.
“Sure,” said Joey, “But will that be enough? The bananas are only .19 a pop.”
I nodded my head in understanding.
“Well, let’s give it a try, anyhow.”
Joey went right along adjusting the transaction,
And somehow,
In the meantime,
Pondered upon a couple other intrigues
That were apparently tickling his intellect.
“So what you working on now?”
There was no question about it – Joey was going all the way;
And what could I say?
It was a fair question,
And all is fair in Love and War.
“I’m working on a Story…”
I paused for emphasis, allowing him time to ask:
“A Story?”
I nodded.
“A Story at the very Top of a REAL HIGH SKYRISE…”
Joey nodded.
“Like a Penthouse…”
I shrugged.
“Something like it.”
Assessment aside,
There he went again with the puppy frown.
“Insufficient Funds.”
This time,
I felt my own nose wrinkle
As I looked over the Tangelo, the Mango and the Brew.
Looking at Joe,
It was clear that both of our frustration’s were at hand.
We were in this together,
And no matter what happened,
For better or for worse,
We were going to get through this and together.
“Alright, take off the Tangelo,” I said, with the finality of an Executive Decision.
Joey nodded sadly.
“That was one orange Tangelo,” he solemnly reflected.
“Hey...”
I waited for him to get his chin up.
“It still is…”
At that,
He bandied about fixing the transaction,
With more Gusto and Gumpf than before,
While I was looking thoughtfully
Between the Mango and Brew.
“And if that doesn’t do it,” I started, “Then I’m gonna have to have you cover me while I hit the stairs and make a run for it.”
“Ha!”
Joey got a real kick out of that one.
“Not necessary,” he said, handing me my receipt.
I took it into my hand like it were the Ticket, itself.
“Joe, thanks for everything,” I said, “And have a good one.”
I had already turned to head for the steps, when I heard:
“Hey!”
I turned around.
“You didn’t even tell me what kind of construction work you do…”
I smiled and continued along on a backstep.
“Come on, now,” I said, “I’m the Architect.”
On my way to Trump Towers,
I stopped by the bank and withdrew my remaining .11 Cents from the account,
Wondering on what kind of day
I was going to have tomorrow
When I could not even afford to buy me a
Cup of Soup…
BLONDYN.COM
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