October 23, 2005 (Post date) October 16, 2005 (Blog date)
Today my wake up call (about 6 in the morning) was an argument between my foster father and his forty-something year old son. What started the fight? My foster father asked his son to use the hallway door to go to the bathroom. Background?!!? The forty-something year old has been sleeping in the living room. The living room has two doors one leads to the kitchen, and the other leads to the hallway. My foster father told his son that if he has to go to the bathroom, he should use the hallway door, especially while there are people sitting at the table eating. This time both were in a very bad mood. It was almost as if they wanted to pick up right where the last fight left off. This time the son was in no mood for me to be peace maker. I believe he realized that his…. “logic” doesn’t work on anyone but his father. He quickly (and angrily) told me not to interfere when he is talking to his father. Neither one was talking, just shouting. The shouting continued until the threats started. Once I realized that a fight would most likely be imminent, I positioned myself between the two. The son seemed to feel that he was entitled to ask the question (over and over again). Does the door rule only apply to him? The son also changed the focus of the argument to not being allowed to wear pajamas in the kitchen.
Like father like son, when the argument isn’t going your way, change the argument.
When I tried talking to the son, the father would shout over me, and when tried talking to the father…oh, you know.
Basically, I was in the same situation I was in when I broke up fights in my elementary school classroom. I stood in the middle and tried to reason with the participates. Exactly what the teacher’s union recommends that the teacher not do.
Well anyway, the argument continued, and it escalated. It seemed like the son was determined to win the argument at any costs. And it seemed like the father felt like the son was “trying to take over the house”.
Here, I’ll leave out a few details.
As the father began looking for his metal pipe, I focused my reasoning skills (as poor as they are) on the son. The son went on and on about how he does not… will not be disrespected by anyone. He went on about how he has a right to speak and no one can and will tell he what he can and can’t do.
To make a long story short (leaving out a few more details), I managed to prevent history from repeating itself. Apparently, they had a very similar fight while I was in Japan. Sorry, since I was not involved with that fight, I am not going to go into details.
Anyway, I managed to stop the argument. The participates went to their corners. The father worked on his…uh…lottery numbers in his bedroom, and the son ate his oatmeal in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, the son asked to speak to me. He came into my room to lecture me about disrespect. He wasn’t so much angry as he was trying to persuade me to see things his way. He mentioned that I was being disrespectful for interrupting their “conversation”, and I was being disrespectful for not saying “excuse me” before interrupting. When he found that I would not see things his way, he said that he had a headache and didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He walked out of the room, I started to follow him into his room (living room), but he closed the door in my face. Rather than get into a fight (or another argument) I just continued talking through the door. He whined about how he had a headache and he needed to sleep.
A few minutes later, the father asked me to call the older son.
The older son said that he would be over in a few minutes. I expected another loud argument. I expected a continuation. But, what was the encounter like?
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The older son (he is in his mid 50s) arrived, he said “pack your shit, you are going back to your sister’s house” (yes, the one with the big house). That’s it! No argument. No fight. Nothing. The (former) tough-talking (disabled) ex-marine had nothing to say. It took him about 45 minutes to pack one duffle bag. Later (when he is about to leave), he was whistling like nothing happened.
After the 40-something year old son was driven up to his sister’s house, my foster father spent the rest of the day (actually a couple of days) saying, “we got rid of him”. That was very annoying! It wasn’t him, and it wasn’t me. Neither one of us was the one that reined in the wayward son. It was the older brother. After the 40-something was kicked out, I then had to listen to my foster father shouting at his grandson about how he also “better watch out”, or he (my foster father) would kick his grandson out the same way he kicked out his 40-something son.
I was angry and annoyed, so I did what I usually do. I went for a walk. From my home I walked to 125th street and Broadway. I walked down Broadway until 72nd street. There used to be a public toilet near the 72nd street subway station, but unfortunately, it was no longer there. Since I had to go to the bathroom, I decided to return home. I walked across 72nd street to 8th avenue. While walking down 8th avenue I walked past the New York Museum. The NY Museum had a special exhibition about slavery in New York. It is not a topic I am interested in, but it is educational. I told myself several times that I would go, but I kept procrastinating, so I decided to go, even though I was tired, and had to go to the bathroom.
I was amazed that the exhibition was so crowded; I was also surprised that there seemed to me to be more European-Americans than African-Americans there. I thought the exhibition was very interesting, I even forgot (a little) that I had to go to the bathroom). The only down side (if any) was that a lot of the crowd moved like snails, or would stand in front of exhibitions having personal conversation, even though there were lines to see almost all of the different displays. At the exhibition, there was a handwritten draft of the Emancipation Proclamation. After visiting the Slavery exhibition, I still had about 30 minutes before the museum closed, so I went to see some other exhibitions. I was able to take a few photos.
About the photos. Sorry for the delay with posting photos on my other web site. I have about 5 sets that need to be posted.
I will (try to) visit the internet café next weekend to upload the photos. I narrowed the photos to about 64 pictures in total. Although I do have a free internet connection, it is limited (only 20 hours per month at dial-up speed). Once I get my own apartment, I’ll get one of those high-speed DSL connections.
Well, I think that is about it… Until next time….
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
October 19, 2005
I’m back. Sorry, it has been a while. The situation that I started to write about continued to escalate, plus I did a couple of walking trips around the city, plus my lack of employment, plus the new TV (bought to fight the boredom), have all contributed to a lack of diligence on my part with writing entries for this blog. Sorry! Since I have a bit of a logjam with my entries, I think that it is best to write in the present tense.
October 15th A continuation….
This morning, my foster father’s 40 something year old son wanted to confirm that he was going to be driven up to his sister’s home. At 5:30 in the morning, that was not a good time to ask. Since the son kept pestering the father, the father finally said no. The “no” put the son in a bad mood. He started making unnecessary noises in the kitchen. Yes, I did say that his age was forty something. First, he started banging the sink drainer in the trashcan to get the food out. Then he started scrambling eggs (for French toast) in a glass bowl. The son kept making noise while arguing that a man keeps his word, and broken promises. Normally I don’t get involved in the petty arguments, but this one seemed to be escalating. I came out of my room and mentioned that there was a plastic bowl in the cabinet that would not make as much noise as a metal fork and a glass bowl. At first the arguing stopped, but then they started again. So the next time, I just sat at the kitchen table hoping that my presence would diffuse the tension. And I was correct. And it only cost me 2 hours of listening to the son ramble on about this and that. The son was basically trying to find an argument that that would show that he was right and his father was wrong. Unfortunately, whenever I pointed out a flaw in his argument (and occasionally in his logic) he would just change the topic, but the underlining theme was that he was right and his father was wrong.
After playing referee for the morning, I’d planned to go to the Staples (office supply) store to buy a bookcase, but things don’t always go according to plan. Today was the last day of the sale. Lucky for me (or so I thought) that there was a Staples store on 125th street. About a 10 block walk from my home. Arriving at the store, I asked the clerk where the bookcases on sale were. The clerk said that the 125th street branch did not have furniture, and he recommended that I go to the branch on 81st and Broadway, I though that was very nice. Since the weather was beautiful (after having almost 3 straight days of rain), I decided to go.
When I got out of the train station, I noticed an electronic store across the street. I decided (just for the heck of it) to check the prices of the TVs. I was planning to go to the mall in Jersey City to buy a TV from Sears. In the electronic store the TV prices were good, so I decided to buy a TV and a DVD player. The TV was $113.00 (including tax). I asked the price for delivery………It was $50.0!!! I decided to take the TV myself. I felt a little bit uncomfortable taking a 20 inch TV on the train. However, I arrived home safe.
After returning home, I realized that I would need a cable connector (a metal bit used to connect the cable cord to the TV). I don’t know why, but the Staples store was the first store that popped into my head. So I walked back to Staples. On the way, would you believe that a small group of boys were practicing throwing a football across 6 lanes of traffic (Lenox Avenue). At Staples, in the electronics section, I asked for a cable connector, the clerk said that the 125th Staples “sucked because it did not have anything” (his words not mine). On my way out the store, one of the other clerks noticed something on the shelf under the counter near the cash register. Instead of being professional and dealing with the object, she’s laughing loudly and has to call other clerks over to see. What was it? It was a used (??) condom tossed on the shelf.
The helpful clerk (not the laughing lady) from Staples recommended Radio Shack. So I walked to Radio Shack. In Radio Shack, the sales staff were not helpful. One clerk was being taught the name and location of something by a customer. The clerk at the cash register kept me waiting while he moved slower than molasses talking (in Spanish) to someone who did not seem to be a customer, and the topic did not seem to be related to anything in the store. However, since I don’t speak Spanish, I can’t be sure what the conversation was about.
Well, I left out a few details, but I think you get the picture. It is late. Until next time…
I’m back. Sorry, it has been a while. The situation that I started to write about continued to escalate, plus I did a couple of walking trips around the city, plus my lack of employment, plus the new TV (bought to fight the boredom), have all contributed to a lack of diligence on my part with writing entries for this blog. Sorry! Since I have a bit of a logjam with my entries, I think that it is best to write in the present tense.
October 15th A continuation….
This morning, my foster father’s 40 something year old son wanted to confirm that he was going to be driven up to his sister’s home. At 5:30 in the morning, that was not a good time to ask. Since the son kept pestering the father, the father finally said no. The “no” put the son in a bad mood. He started making unnecessary noises in the kitchen. Yes, I did say that his age was forty something. First, he started banging the sink drainer in the trashcan to get the food out. Then he started scrambling eggs (for French toast) in a glass bowl. The son kept making noise while arguing that a man keeps his word, and broken promises. Normally I don’t get involved in the petty arguments, but this one seemed to be escalating. I came out of my room and mentioned that there was a plastic bowl in the cabinet that would not make as much noise as a metal fork and a glass bowl. At first the arguing stopped, but then they started again. So the next time, I just sat at the kitchen table hoping that my presence would diffuse the tension. And I was correct. And it only cost me 2 hours of listening to the son ramble on about this and that. The son was basically trying to find an argument that that would show that he was right and his father was wrong. Unfortunately, whenever I pointed out a flaw in his argument (and occasionally in his logic) he would just change the topic, but the underlining theme was that he was right and his father was wrong.
After playing referee for the morning, I’d planned to go to the Staples (office supply) store to buy a bookcase, but things don’t always go according to plan. Today was the last day of the sale. Lucky for me (or so I thought) that there was a Staples store on 125th street. About a 10 block walk from my home. Arriving at the store, I asked the clerk where the bookcases on sale were. The clerk said that the 125th street branch did not have furniture, and he recommended that I go to the branch on 81st and Broadway, I though that was very nice. Since the weather was beautiful (after having almost 3 straight days of rain), I decided to go.
When I got out of the train station, I noticed an electronic store across the street. I decided (just for the heck of it) to check the prices of the TVs. I was planning to go to the mall in Jersey City to buy a TV from Sears. In the electronic store the TV prices were good, so I decided to buy a TV and a DVD player. The TV was $113.00 (including tax). I asked the price for delivery………It was $50.0!!! I decided to take the TV myself. I felt a little bit uncomfortable taking a 20 inch TV on the train. However, I arrived home safe.
After returning home, I realized that I would need a cable connector (a metal bit used to connect the cable cord to the TV). I don’t know why, but the Staples store was the first store that popped into my head. So I walked back to Staples. On the way, would you believe that a small group of boys were practicing throwing a football across 6 lanes of traffic (Lenox Avenue). At Staples, in the electronics section, I asked for a cable connector, the clerk said that the 125th Staples “sucked because it did not have anything” (his words not mine). On my way out the store, one of the other clerks noticed something on the shelf under the counter near the cash register. Instead of being professional and dealing with the object, she’s laughing loudly and has to call other clerks over to see. What was it? It was a used (??) condom tossed on the shelf.
The helpful clerk (not the laughing lady) from Staples recommended Radio Shack. So I walked to Radio Shack. In Radio Shack, the sales staff were not helpful. One clerk was being taught the name and location of something by a customer. The clerk at the cash register kept me waiting while he moved slower than molasses talking (in Spanish) to someone who did not seem to be a customer, and the topic did not seem to be related to anything in the store. However, since I don’t speak Spanish, I can’t be sure what the conversation was about.
Well, I left out a few details, but I think you get the picture. It is late. Until next time…
Friday, October 14, 2005
I forgot the title for this entry. I have not written an entry for a few days. Part of the reason was that it has been raining here in New York like there was no tomorrow. I have not done anything worth writing about. I don’t think I remember it ever raining consistently for 3 days straight. Today there is finally a break in the raining. Unfortunately, there is a chance of rain later today.
The other reason for the gap was that my blog entries were a bit too negative, and were straying off the topic…me. I realize that if the situation does not really involve me, then I should not be writing about other people. So, for the past few days, I have not written about the arguments, the shouting, the lies, problems etc…since none of them involved me. Only the head-splitting headaches they give me. This morning however, I got involved. So, I guess I can do a little bit of wr….complaining. Who am I kidding, this blog is an exercise in venting. It is all about…almost all about complaining. And now on with the show.
This morning around 5:30 I was awaken by a conversation, or a broken stove door creaking open. I don’t remember. Anyway, I went back to bed, and only minutes later an argument started between my foster father and his son. Son?!?! Oh, the son who wanted to stay a couple of weeks ago, but had to be convinced that there was no space for him. You still don’t remember. Okay, the son (I mentioned in a previous blog) who arrived at 4 in the morning banging on the door. Well, he got his way. He has been living here for the past several days. Since the arguments and conflicts had not involved me, I did not write about them. Anyway, the argument this morning….
Sorry, the bathroom is finally free, so to be continued….
The other reason for the gap was that my blog entries were a bit too negative, and were straying off the topic…me. I realize that if the situation does not really involve me, then I should not be writing about other people. So, for the past few days, I have not written about the arguments, the shouting, the lies, problems etc…since none of them involved me. Only the head-splitting headaches they give me. This morning however, I got involved. So, I guess I can do a little bit of wr….complaining. Who am I kidding, this blog is an exercise in venting. It is all about…almost all about complaining. And now on with the show.
This morning around 5:30 I was awaken by a conversation, or a broken stove door creaking open. I don’t remember. Anyway, I went back to bed, and only minutes later an argument started between my foster father and his son. Son?!?! Oh, the son who wanted to stay a couple of weeks ago, but had to be convinced that there was no space for him. You still don’t remember. Okay, the son (I mentioned in a previous blog) who arrived at 4 in the morning banging on the door. Well, he got his way. He has been living here for the past several days. Since the arguments and conflicts had not involved me, I did not write about them. Anyway, the argument this morning….
Sorry, the bathroom is finally free, so to be continued….
Saturday, October 08, 2005
October 8, 2005
Today it is a very rainy day here in New York. Earlier today, I walked to the store to buy a newspaper (around 1pm – yes, in the afternoon). On my way back home, I was about to enter the code to open the main door into the building when two police officers ran up to me and told me to drop everything (in this case my umbrella and the newspaper than I’d just bought), turn around and put my hands up. While one of the police officers patted me down (asking if I was carrying anything that I should not be), the other officer had his hand on his gun. After being frisked, one of the officers explained that I matched the description of someone who just robbed someone on the 2nd floor of my building. Yes, I was entering the building (not exiting), but let me not quibble on minor details. A few minutes later the officer explained that the person they were looking for had a gun. Although, the officer just finished patting me down (no gun), and was holding my driver’s license, I was asked to stand at the door of my home like I was a common criminal. They were waiting for conformation that it was okay to let me go. Later, the confirmation came, The second officer returned to tell the other officer that they needed to look for a guy in a car (I forgot the name of the car).
I did not realize that there were many (or any) overweight, balding, half blind, goofy looking, geeky African American criminals walking into the scene of a crime….now I do….and so do my neighbors.
I supposed that after all of this “misunderstanding” was cleared up, I should have mentioned the drug dealer on the first floor (my father seems to always be complaining about) and the strangers that come and go like that apartment was the local Kmart. And would it have been proper to complain to the officers about those same strangers who use the elevator like a bathroom (urine on an almost weekly basis, and the occasional feces deposit [2x]). Well, what does a stupid looking criminal know.
Today it is a very rainy day here in New York. Earlier today, I walked to the store to buy a newspaper (around 1pm – yes, in the afternoon). On my way back home, I was about to enter the code to open the main door into the building when two police officers ran up to me and told me to drop everything (in this case my umbrella and the newspaper than I’d just bought), turn around and put my hands up. While one of the police officers patted me down (asking if I was carrying anything that I should not be), the other officer had his hand on his gun. After being frisked, one of the officers explained that I matched the description of someone who just robbed someone on the 2nd floor of my building. Yes, I was entering the building (not exiting), but let me not quibble on minor details. A few minutes later the officer explained that the person they were looking for had a gun. Although, the officer just finished patting me down (no gun), and was holding my driver’s license, I was asked to stand at the door of my home like I was a common criminal. They were waiting for conformation that it was okay to let me go. Later, the confirmation came, The second officer returned to tell the other officer that they needed to look for a guy in a car (I forgot the name of the car).
I did not realize that there were many (or any) overweight, balding, half blind, goofy looking, geeky African American criminals walking into the scene of a crime….now I do….and so do my neighbors.
I supposed that after all of this “misunderstanding” was cleared up, I should have mentioned the drug dealer on the first floor (my father seems to always be complaining about) and the strangers that come and go like that apartment was the local Kmart. And would it have been proper to complain to the officers about those same strangers who use the elevator like a bathroom (urine on an almost weekly basis, and the occasional feces deposit [2x]). Well, what does a stupid looking criminal know.
October 6, 2005
I walked to an internet café on 125th street to download a copy of my credit report from the big 3 credit reporting agencies. Here in New York, a new law was passed allowing residents one free copy of their credit report each year. But, you have to request the reports. After downloading my credit reports, I went to a sandwich shop for lunch. Not the best lunch. The guy behind the counter cut up so many onions that my eyes and his were tearing up. After lunch, since the weather was so nice, I decided to walk around the perimeter of Central Park. From 125th street, I walked to 110th street and 8th avenue (the Northwest corner of Central Park). From 110th street, I walked along 8th avenue to 59th street (the southwest corner). I walked along 59th street to 5th avenue (the southeast corner). From there, I walked down 5th avenue to 110th street (the northeast corner of Central Park). And finally, I walked to the public bathroom at the Discovery Center in Central Park (about midway between 5th avenue and 8th avenue. The only bathroom during this walking trip. Here in New York, public bathrooms are extremely rare. I walked home from there. In total, I walked about 3 hours (including the stops for taking photos along the way). Since I don’t know how to upload (or the blog site won’t allow) multiple photos on this blog, I will put the photos on my other web site. The photos are mostly of the statures around the perimeter of Central Park. The photos should be up in a few days.
I walked to an internet café on 125th street to download a copy of my credit report from the big 3 credit reporting agencies. Here in New York, a new law was passed allowing residents one free copy of their credit report each year. But, you have to request the reports. After downloading my credit reports, I went to a sandwich shop for lunch. Not the best lunch. The guy behind the counter cut up so many onions that my eyes and his were tearing up. After lunch, since the weather was so nice, I decided to walk around the perimeter of Central Park. From 125th street, I walked to 110th street and 8th avenue (the Northwest corner of Central Park). From 110th street, I walked along 8th avenue to 59th street (the southwest corner). I walked along 59th street to 5th avenue (the southeast corner). From there, I walked down 5th avenue to 110th street (the northeast corner of Central Park). And finally, I walked to the public bathroom at the Discovery Center in Central Park (about midway between 5th avenue and 8th avenue. The only bathroom during this walking trip. Here in New York, public bathrooms are extremely rare. I walked home from there. In total, I walked about 3 hours (including the stops for taking photos along the way). Since I don’t know how to upload (or the blog site won’t allow) multiple photos on this blog, I will put the photos on my other web site. The photos are mostly of the statures around the perimeter of Central Park. The photos should be up in a few days.
Monday, October 03, 2005
October 2, 2005 Another blog entry. About midday, I decided to go for a walk. I was bored, not angry. Luckily, everyone seemed the forget t he arguing this morning. About the walk. At first, I was a little tired from the Friday walk around Central Park Reservoir, so I decided to take the bus downtown and then walk back. As I was riding the city bus, I was enjoying the great weather that I did not want to get off of the bus. However, I realized that if I did not get off of the bus, I would have a very long way to walk. I rode the bus down 5th avenue and got off at 74th street and 5th avenue – the east side of Central Park. I though that I would be tired, but the weather was so great, that I really enjoyed the walk. I started at 74th street on the east side. I walked through Central Park to the west side, and I walked down 7th avenue. At 125th street, I found a internet café. I stayed at the internet café for 30 minutes, did some window shopping (I bought 2 long-sleeved shirts), and then I returned home. I hadn’t eaten lunch, so I was very hungry. Lucky for me, my foster father’s lady friend cooked dinner, so I was able to eat without cooking. Also, my foster father wants his grandson to share some of the responsibilities, so Fridays thru Mondays, his grandson has to wash the dishes. After I ate, I washed my own dishes, as a dishwasher, I know what it feels like when others leave their dirty dishes for me to wash, so I am not going to do it to someone else. After washing my dish, I noticed that we were out of butter, so I walked to the store to buy some butter. I was surprised; I was not tired from walking. Strange, I seem (I hope) to be going back to my old self. The last few months in Japan, it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to walk long distances. The way I felt today, I think that I could have easily walked from 42nd street to 135th street.
The day started lousy, but it turned into a very nice day!
October 2, 2005 Today started with my usual wake up call. My foster father received a call from his eldest son. My foster father seemed a little upset at the early call. Next he goes to his grandson, to wake him up telling him that he has to go downstairs to get the paper that the elder son would give him. A little background information. The grandson was supposed to complete a job application last week, but he forgot something, so he was not able to complete the job application. Also, the grandson is also supposed to be going to some kind of boot camp school, and the paperwork needs to be completed. Whichever paper it was (I wasn’t sure), each one has a story (that I won’t go into), and each one is important. I wasn’t going to get involved. However, as the yelling continued, I became angry (and got involved). My foster father went on to say that his grandson needed to learn responsibility (and that he shouldn’t be sleeping all day [it was about 7:30 in the morning]). After about 10 to 12 minutes, of demanding that his grandson move faster and stop wasting time (because the elder son was very busy and should not be kept waiting, the grandson finally went downstairs. I went to my foster father and said that he was wrong and that the elder son should have brought up the application himself. However, my foster father said that I did not know the whole story, and I should not interfere. My foster father and I were arguing, and then….my foster father and his lady friend were arguing. I returned to my room and sat angry for about 5 minutes. The grandson still had not returned after about 5 minutes, so I decided to go downstairs in my pajamas and bathrobe to talk to the elder son. After I returned, everyone seemed to agree that this incident should not have happened, and I was assured that it would not happen again. Only time will tell….
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Oh, and what about the application that started this mess. It appears that I was mistaken. The paper had nothing to do with the job application, nor with the “boot camp” school. The paper was….the Sunday newspaper!
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Oh, and what about the application that started this mess. It appears that I was mistaken. The paper had nothing to do with the job application, nor with the “boot camp” school. The paper was….the Sunday newspaper!
Saturday, October 01, 2005

Another blog entry for today. Before I briefly recount my day, let me explain the photo on the left. Do you recognize the object in the photo? If you’ve read the previous blog about my adventure at Ground Zero, then you know what the object is. It is one of the Path train’s turnstiles. This time, I didn’t go to Jersey City through the World Trade Center site. This photo was taken at the Jersey City station next to the mall. Also here, there was no station attendant. However, I am very happy to report that this time the trip went much, much smoother.
Before I describe today’s boring events, let me describe the photo/turnstile. This is one of the single ride machines. If you are planning to only buy a one way ticket, then you would use this ticket machine. It takes only cash and coins. As you can see from the photo, the machine does not take bills higher than a five-dollar bill. Remember the lady I mentioned (in the previous “zero” blog entry), who couldn’t get change for a $20 bill. Now, look on top of the turnstile. The white cap on top has a red light inside. After you pay your fare, the red light will flash once (only once), so if you are not looking, you will miss it. Under the white cap, you can see the small monitor screen. Before you pay, there is a dark green arrow. After you pay, the monitor beeps once, and then the dark green arrow turns light green. And finally, if you are using a metro and/or PATH card, then it is inserted into the front of the turnstile. The fare is automatically deducted from the card, and the card is released above the insert point. You have to insert your card, wait for the machine to release it, and check to amount remaining (on the small screen on the front of the turnstile [just above where the card is inserted]) before you can walk through the turnstile. When the turnstile is turns light green, you will have about 5 to 10 seconds to walk through the turnstile. No proof you paid, and no attendant to help if you have a problem. Well, I think I’ve written enough about the PATH turnstile. I hope I didn’t bore you too much.
Today started off with me typing up the previous blog entry. While I was typing my father and his lady friend returned from grocery shopping. They bought much more than I was expecting. For the past month, I was doing much of the shopping. Unfortunately, I wasn’t doing much of the eating. I thought it was nice that a lot of food was bought. Unfortunately, they brought a little too much junk food (pound cake, a 12 pack of glazed donuts, a family-size pack of cookies, a pack of bologna etc…).
Today, I returned to the Jersey City mall mentioned in the previous “zero” blog. This time the traveling was much, much smoother. At the mall, the first place I went was the food court (Panda Express). After lunch, I went to the movie at the mall to see “Corpse Bride”. I enjoyed the movie very much. There was a very “artsy” style to it. After the movie, I wandered around the mall for awhile. I brought a couple of slacks for when I am called (I hope) to start substitute teaching. After wandering for awhile, I ate dinner at Burger King. Strange how I can complain about the lack of health food, but I seem to be unable to resist the fast food. I really have to start exercising. I really want to buy a rowing machine. Well, that’s about it. Until next time…
I really didn’t want to get involved, but…I got involved. Now my best hope is to minimize the damage.
Just a quick entry (I hope) before I stop by the internet shop, then Jersey City.
Sorry, the above may (or may not be) directly related to me. But I wanted to get it off my chest. Nothing major (or personally), but since I just spent about an hour typing I really did not want to delete what I had just spent so much time writing. In a couple of days, I’ll delete it. Sorry for the confusion. Until next time......
Just a quick entry (I hope) before I stop by the internet shop, then Jersey City.
Sorry, the above may (or may not be) directly related to me. But I wanted to get it off my chest. Nothing major (or personally), but since I just spent about an hour typing I really did not want to delete what I had just spent so much time writing. In a couple of days, I’ll delete it. Sorry for the confusion. Until next time......
Friday, September 30, 2005
Taking things one day at a time, I suppose is a better title than doing time.
I am still waiting for the Board of Education to call or contact me. Today was another day with nothing much to do. I just realized that I had my camera in my backpack today while I went out for a walk. I thought that I’d left it on my desk. So, needless to say, I did not take any photos today. I was just planning to walk around my neighborhood, but I ended up walking further than planned.
I started my walk walking to the internet shop. I checked my e-mail and sent out the URL to the photo page for those Pen pals who might have forgotten my old web site. Opps! I just realized that some did not receive the URL. Sorry! Since I returned to New York, I am missing some e-mail addresses. I gave away my old computer (with the e-mail addresses) still inside.
After briefly surfing the internet, I’d planned to walk around the nearby park (which is what I did yesterday). Not a very exciting plan is it? My starting point was 125th street and 5th avenue (I’d already walked 10 city blocks to reach the internet shop). From the internet shop, I walked down 5th avenue to 110th street (the Northern entrance to Central Park).
Since I hadn’t eaten lunch, I went to a local store. Another thing I missed about Japan, the convenient stores. In Japan, I could just walk into a convenient store and buy an onigiri (a rice ball packed with meat and wrapped in seaweed) and tea. A healthy meal when you don’t have time to fix a meal. I was hungry, but I wanted to try to eat something healthy. My first choice was a hamburger with fries and a soda meal set at a place called “Mama’s Chicken”. However, there was no “Mama”, just a short Spanish guy in a greasy apron who had difficulty understanding the customer on line saying “meal order #9”. There was a bit of a crowd, and all of the choices were one greasy sandwich combo with fries and a soda. Next door, there was a Bodega (the poor man’s convenient store). A Bodega is a small store usually owned and operated by a Hispanic person (or persons). In the Bodega, I was surprised to find fruit salads. However, 1. I wanted something solid that would fill my stomach, and 2. the salad containers looked old and dirty. I passed on the fruit salads. As I looked up and down the racks and racks of junk food (cheap cakes, cookies, chips etc…), I got a little annoyed that I could not find anything healthier than the dirty looking fruit salad. So being in a pouting mood, I bought a granola bar and orange juice, and kept thinking how much I wanted a rice ball.
At the entrance to the Northern part of Central Park, I was planned to walk around the duck pond (Harlem Meer) located at the North of Central Park, but since I did that yesterday, I decided to walk a little further. I ended up walking around the Central Park Reservoir, and then I walked back home to cook dinner. In total, I walked about 2 hours.
My plan was to walk; cook dinner then relaxes in the bath. However, things just don’t seem to go according to plan. After I’d finish cooking (spaghetti), my father told me to not wash the dishes. It seems his lady friend suggested that his grandson should help around the house. I’m thinking to myself….Oh, great!
Sorry, I just deleted about a page of explaining. I forgot that this blog is about my situations. I really shouldn’t be writing about other people, especially without their permission. However, if it directly relates to me, then I think writing about someone else is okay, as long as I don’t use that person’s name, or picture without their permission. But I really should think carefully about what constitutes “directly relates to me”. Sorry for the confusion.
To make a long story short, I am not living alone, so I have to share the facilities. This also means that the facilities may not be to my “different” standards.
Well, I think that is about it. Tomorrow, I plan to return to the mall in Jersey City. However this time, I will be taking a different route. Until next time…
I am still waiting for the Board of Education to call or contact me. Today was another day with nothing much to do. I just realized that I had my camera in my backpack today while I went out for a walk. I thought that I’d left it on my desk. So, needless to say, I did not take any photos today. I was just planning to walk around my neighborhood, but I ended up walking further than planned.
I started my walk walking to the internet shop. I checked my e-mail and sent out the URL to the photo page for those Pen pals who might have forgotten my old web site. Opps! I just realized that some did not receive the URL. Sorry! Since I returned to New York, I am missing some e-mail addresses. I gave away my old computer (with the e-mail addresses) still inside.
After briefly surfing the internet, I’d planned to walk around the nearby park (which is what I did yesterday). Not a very exciting plan is it? My starting point was 125th street and 5th avenue (I’d already walked 10 city blocks to reach the internet shop). From the internet shop, I walked down 5th avenue to 110th street (the Northern entrance to Central Park).
Since I hadn’t eaten lunch, I went to a local store. Another thing I missed about Japan, the convenient stores. In Japan, I could just walk into a convenient store and buy an onigiri (a rice ball packed with meat and wrapped in seaweed) and tea. A healthy meal when you don’t have time to fix a meal. I was hungry, but I wanted to try to eat something healthy. My first choice was a hamburger with fries and a soda meal set at a place called “Mama’s Chicken”. However, there was no “Mama”, just a short Spanish guy in a greasy apron who had difficulty understanding the customer on line saying “meal order #9”. There was a bit of a crowd, and all of the choices were one greasy sandwich combo with fries and a soda. Next door, there was a Bodega (the poor man’s convenient store). A Bodega is a small store usually owned and operated by a Hispanic person (or persons). In the Bodega, I was surprised to find fruit salads. However, 1. I wanted something solid that would fill my stomach, and 2. the salad containers looked old and dirty. I passed on the fruit salads. As I looked up and down the racks and racks of junk food (cheap cakes, cookies, chips etc…), I got a little annoyed that I could not find anything healthier than the dirty looking fruit salad. So being in a pouting mood, I bought a granola bar and orange juice, and kept thinking how much I wanted a rice ball.
At the entrance to the Northern part of Central Park, I was planned to walk around the duck pond (Harlem Meer) located at the North of Central Park, but since I did that yesterday, I decided to walk a little further. I ended up walking around the Central Park Reservoir, and then I walked back home to cook dinner. In total, I walked about 2 hours.
My plan was to walk; cook dinner then relaxes in the bath. However, things just don’t seem to go according to plan. After I’d finish cooking (spaghetti), my father told me to not wash the dishes. It seems his lady friend suggested that his grandson should help around the house. I’m thinking to myself….Oh, great!
Sorry, I just deleted about a page of explaining. I forgot that this blog is about my situations. I really shouldn’t be writing about other people, especially without their permission. However, if it directly relates to me, then I think writing about someone else is okay, as long as I don’t use that person’s name, or picture without their permission. But I really should think carefully about what constitutes “directly relates to me”. Sorry for the confusion.
To make a long story short, I am not living alone, so I have to share the facilities. This also means that the facilities may not be to my “different” standards.
Well, I think that is about it. Tomorrow, I plan to return to the mall in Jersey City. However this time, I will be taking a different route. Until next time…
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Missing the full picture…Or, not all there.
For some reason, the photos that I attached to the previous blog entry are not showing. Oh well, I am not the brightest person. In a few days, I will put the photos up on my other web site; yes the one that is in need of a major over-haul. Maybe I’ll attach just one photo (when I have photos to attach) to each blog entry.
It has been a few days since my last entry. There was not much for me to write about. However, I’ll try to do a recap. Mainly, I am still waiting for the Board of Education to call to let me start substitute teaching (at least until I can reapply for my State Teaching License). Unfortunately, I let my license expire. On to the time killing activities.
On Monday, I went food shopping. Strange, for someone without a job, I seemed to be spending money like I am the richest man in the world. I don’t know why, but I was in a little bit of a good mood, and spent more money than I should have spent. In total, I spent about $83.00 on food. A lot of what I bought was what I thought the other people in the household would like to eat.
Okay, you know what? It has been about 3 days, I have forgotten what I was planning to write, so I am not going to even try to pretend. I’ll just mention the points that I wanted to mention and move on from there.
Yesterday, or the day before…actually, it was Monday. My father decided to teach his grandson a lesson about showering, so he has been setting time limits. First it was 30 minutes, then 20, and today it was 15 minutes. I got angry with my father on Monday when he started shouting at his grandson to hurry up and finish in the shower. That shouting has been my wake up call (literally) for the last few days. Monday was the worst. Every 15 minutes or so, my father would shout at his grandson. I would wake up, then drift back to sleep only to have my father shout again. On Monday, I had had enough so I shouted to my father, “would you please stop shouting”. Wow, even when I’m angry, I can still be incredibly polite.
I was about to go into a tangent about the situation here, but I think I should stick to the situations that apply mainly to me. So, I’ll just briefly summarize…………….never mind. I just deleted the last part of this paragraph. How about I write about my day today.
Today, I treated myself to lunch at the soul food restaurant in my neighborhood. Strange (to say the least), I was told that this restaurant is owned by a Chinese company. Also, I was told that Silvia’s (a famous restaurant here in Harlem), is now also owned by a Chinese company. Back to my day.
After lunch, I rode the train downtown to the Brooklyn Bridge. I decided a couple of days ago (one of the things that I forgot to write about) that I would get out and try seeing some of the city that I’ve lived in for most of my life, but I haven’t seen too much of. And, since I have this blog, visiting places in and around the city would give me something to write about. Although I’ve been over the Brooklyn Bridge a few times, I decided to go again.(this time with a camera). My main reason for going downtown was to buy an external floppy drive. When I bought the second-hand computer I am now using, I did not think I would need a floppy. I have a couple of flash memory drives. Unfortunately, the library I go to has to kept up with the rest of the computing world. A the library, the computers will only let the user use a floppy disk to save, everything else is not accessible for the average library customer. And now that I have an external floppy drive, well, it doesn’t matter at the moment. Out of the 6 computers, 4 of them are out of order. And, the computer I was on today was moving so slow, I think it is only a matter of time before that one breaks.
Well, it is getting late. So, just a quick summary. I walked along the Brooklyn Bridge. Then later, I walked to Canal Street, I thought I could find a cheap second-hand floppy drive, but when I started wandering around Chinatown, I decided to walk back to the Brooklyn Bridge area (City Hall) and bought a new floppy drive. And since I could not buy one or two floppy disks, I bought a box of 10 floppy disks. Now, knowing my luck, the library will probably replace the old computers with computers that use flash drives.
After I returned home from the Brooklyn Bridge area, I cooked dinner (beans & rice, mustard greens, and broiled chicken).
Until next time….
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Sunday, September 25, 2005
A continuation of "Red, White, and Blue...."
Well, this morning seems colder and cloudier here in New York. Well, onto the continuation of my previous blog entry, “Red, White, & Blue. And yes, stress too.”
After arriving at the Mall station in Jersey City, I planned to buy my return ticket first (and get any problems over with), it is here where the station attendant explained the ticket machine to me. Since I wanted a single ride, I could only pay at the time I am about to get on to train. There is a few second time limit. No ticket. No receipt. No proof of purchase. With no attendant around, this is (in my opinion) an incredibly stupid system.
From the station to the mall, it is about a 7 minute walk. For some reason, the builders built an office complex between the station and the mall. Therefore, to go to the station, you have to walk through the office complex. So…..I walked through! Once in the office building and up the escalator there is a pedestrian bridge connecting the office building with the mall. There is a double door separating the office building from the bridge. Only one way to go! No other way around!
You are probably saying, “why is he writing about the passage to the mall?!?!?
As I am riding up the escalator, I can see a group of 5 or 6 people standing and conversing in front of the double doors! Stupid *****!!! The only way for me to go pass is to say excuses me. How stupid and inconsiderate does a person (or persons) have to be to not realize that standing in front of the only doors around is not a good idea. Second place has to go to the security guard – who waits until after I walk pass, to tell the group that they should not stand there. Yes, he was already standing on the floor, so he knew they were there before I got off of the escalator. Sorry, old age is making me increasingly cranky.
My nephew just arrived. He knocks instead of using his key, so my father has started yelling. And the phone just rang. And now he is yelling about keeping clothes…never mind!
Once in the Mall, it looks pretty much the same as I remembered it. The first place I planned to go is my favorite place….the food court! But before I get on line to order at my favorite restaurant, I decide to go to the bathroom. As I walk past the woman’s bathroom, I silent laugh to myself, and think about how glad I am to not have been born female. There is a line of 8 to 10 women waiting outside to use the bathroom. While I am looking at the women’s line, I am trying not to smile. I was telling myself that I’ll be in and out of the men’s bathroom before the next woman on line. I open the men’s bathroom, and…There is a line! There are four men before me, and two toilets. Am I bothered, no not really. The line is still shorter than the women’s line. So I decide to wait. I am a little slow, and I am not very bright. It is only after a couple of minutes does it occur to me that the doors (and the dividers) around the toilets have been removed! I have a shy bladder, and I realize that I really didn’t have to go to the bathroom.
I ate lunch at “Panda Express”. I love their Chinese food. I had the 2-item combo. With the main dish of fried rice (or lo mein), you have a choice of any two combinations. I ordered the fried rice with Kon Pou chicken and sweet and sour chicken, and a melon juice. Good Lunch!
After lunch, I walked around the mall. Bought three white shirts, and a catalog. And I returned to New York. I guess you can tell that I am now tired of typing. But I have one more anecdote.
I took the PATH train back to New York; I got off at 14th street. For those of you who don’t know, 14th street is downtown. I planned to go to the nearby McDonald’s. I’d wanted to go back to the “Panda Express” but I did not want to look like a pig, and the lines for Burger King in the food court were too long. So, to McDonald’s I went.
Inside I could see, there were about 2 customers eating, two customers on line, and one cashier. Not bad I told myself. I’ll be in and out in no time. I go inside the place is one of the big ones maybe 50 or 60 seats on the first floor, with more seats upstairs. There are 5 cash registers, but only one cashier on duty. As I approach the line I quickly realized that I will probably be writing a longer blog. First the staff. About 5 employees all in their late teens (or early 20s). I think two are by the fry machine to clean it or change the oil. One is strolling and stacking trays. Two or three more are in the back. Lots of laughing and joking. Oh, and there was the manager who seemed reluctant to get angry, or take charge. He was the one who brought my fries and burger to the cashier. I felt like I was in a high school cafeteria with part-time students in charge.
But wait! There’s more. There was a woman customer with her daughter (?), her teenage son – he looked like a future basketball player. He was tall. The son was carrying his little brother (!?) The little boy was about 1 or 2 years old.
Now my father is arguing with his lady friend as I am typing this.
Well, the little boy wants to do something, so he is getting fidgety. The teenager puts down the little boy. The little boy takes two steps and falls on his face, he screams. The mother is shouting across the room to the daughter (who is now sitting at a table with another girl), “what do you want to eat? What do you want to drink? So while the baby is crying, the mother is shouting, a couple of employees are goofing-off by the French fry machine, only one thought comes to mind. But I just deleted it from this entry. Sorry!
I was surprised. This…… “spectacle” is something I would only see in my neighborhood. But here I am downtown. What has happened while I’ve been out of the country?
Oh, you are probably asking why I stayed. I knew that once I got on the train, it is not really a good idea to be outside in my neighborhood after dark. See the previous blog. Also, my father decided to cook. What did he make? Red kidney beans, white rice…it would have added nicely to the title and the theme of this blog if the final ingredient was something blue, but no. The final item on the menu was…cow feet! No, that is not a typo. According to my father, cow feet (although they look like pigs feet), they are healthier.
After eating, I go to the train station and wait for the uptown express. I watch as two local trains arrive, and I see many people getting on the local. I am also standing next to a sign that says that all trains will be running on the local track. So the next train that comes…a local, I get on. 2 or 3 minutes later while the train I was riding is at a local station, the express zooms past. ****!!!
Well, that it for now. I am not sure how the photos will save on this blog, so I will just briefly describe them in the order they were taken:
The golden globe was moved to the park in Bowling Green Park. It used to be located at the World Trade Center site.
Korean War Memorial
A couple of photos of the Statute of Liberty seen from Manhattan island.
Glass atrium that is all that remains (I think) of the Twin Towers.
Various photos taken around the perimeter of the former WTC site.
Various photos of the posters of the WTC site.
One way sign strange composite. Charred building (draped in a flag), and charred street signs almost to nowhere.
My Panda Express lunch
A photo of 14th street station.
My refund ticket for the PATH train.
Well, this morning seems colder and cloudier here in New York. Well, onto the continuation of my previous blog entry, “Red, White, & Blue. And yes, stress too.”
After arriving at the Mall station in Jersey City, I planned to buy my return ticket first (and get any problems over with), it is here where the station attendant explained the ticket machine to me. Since I wanted a single ride, I could only pay at the time I am about to get on to train. There is a few second time limit. No ticket. No receipt. No proof of purchase. With no attendant around, this is (in my opinion) an incredibly stupid system.
From the station to the mall, it is about a 7 minute walk. For some reason, the builders built an office complex between the station and the mall. Therefore, to go to the station, you have to walk through the office complex. So…..I walked through! Once in the office building and up the escalator there is a pedestrian bridge connecting the office building with the mall. There is a double door separating the office building from the bridge. Only one way to go! No other way around!
You are probably saying, “why is he writing about the passage to the mall?!?!?
As I am riding up the escalator, I can see a group of 5 or 6 people standing and conversing in front of the double doors! Stupid *****!!! The only way for me to go pass is to say excuses me. How stupid and inconsiderate does a person (or persons) have to be to not realize that standing in front of the only doors around is not a good idea. Second place has to go to the security guard – who waits until after I walk pass, to tell the group that they should not stand there. Yes, he was already standing on the floor, so he knew they were there before I got off of the escalator. Sorry, old age is making me increasingly cranky.
My nephew just arrived. He knocks instead of using his key, so my father has started yelling. And the phone just rang. And now he is yelling about keeping clothes…never mind!
Once in the Mall, it looks pretty much the same as I remembered it. The first place I planned to go is my favorite place….the food court! But before I get on line to order at my favorite restaurant, I decide to go to the bathroom. As I walk past the woman’s bathroom, I silent laugh to myself, and think about how glad I am to not have been born female. There is a line of 8 to 10 women waiting outside to use the bathroom. While I am looking at the women’s line, I am trying not to smile. I was telling myself that I’ll be in and out of the men’s bathroom before the next woman on line. I open the men’s bathroom, and…There is a line! There are four men before me, and two toilets. Am I bothered, no not really. The line is still shorter than the women’s line. So I decide to wait. I am a little slow, and I am not very bright. It is only after a couple of minutes does it occur to me that the doors (and the dividers) around the toilets have been removed! I have a shy bladder, and I realize that I really didn’t have to go to the bathroom.
I ate lunch at “Panda Express”. I love their Chinese food. I had the 2-item combo. With the main dish of fried rice (or lo mein), you have a choice of any two combinations. I ordered the fried rice with Kon Pou chicken and sweet and sour chicken, and a melon juice. Good Lunch!
After lunch, I walked around the mall. Bought three white shirts, and a catalog. And I returned to New York. I guess you can tell that I am now tired of typing. But I have one more anecdote.
I took the PATH train back to New York; I got off at 14th street. For those of you who don’t know, 14th street is downtown. I planned to go to the nearby McDonald’s. I’d wanted to go back to the “Panda Express” but I did not want to look like a pig, and the lines for Burger King in the food court were too long. So, to McDonald’s I went.
Inside I could see, there were about 2 customers eating, two customers on line, and one cashier. Not bad I told myself. I’ll be in and out in no time. I go inside the place is one of the big ones maybe 50 or 60 seats on the first floor, with more seats upstairs. There are 5 cash registers, but only one cashier on duty. As I approach the line I quickly realized that I will probably be writing a longer blog. First the staff. About 5 employees all in their late teens (or early 20s). I think two are by the fry machine to clean it or change the oil. One is strolling and stacking trays. Two or three more are in the back. Lots of laughing and joking. Oh, and there was the manager who seemed reluctant to get angry, or take charge. He was the one who brought my fries and burger to the cashier. I felt like I was in a high school cafeteria with part-time students in charge.
But wait! There’s more. There was a woman customer with her daughter (?), her teenage son – he looked like a future basketball player. He was tall. The son was carrying his little brother (!?) The little boy was about 1 or 2 years old.
Now my father is arguing with his lady friend as I am typing this.
Well, the little boy wants to do something, so he is getting fidgety. The teenager puts down the little boy. The little boy takes two steps and falls on his face, he screams. The mother is shouting across the room to the daughter (who is now sitting at a table with another girl), “what do you want to eat? What do you want to drink? So while the baby is crying, the mother is shouting, a couple of employees are goofing-off by the French fry machine, only one thought comes to mind. But I just deleted it from this entry. Sorry!
I was surprised. This…… “spectacle” is something I would only see in my neighborhood. But here I am downtown. What has happened while I’ve been out of the country?
Oh, you are probably asking why I stayed. I knew that once I got on the train, it is not really a good idea to be outside in my neighborhood after dark. See the previous blog. Also, my father decided to cook. What did he make? Red kidney beans, white rice…it would have added nicely to the title and the theme of this blog if the final ingredient was something blue, but no. The final item on the menu was…cow feet! No, that is not a typo. According to my father, cow feet (although they look like pigs feet), they are healthier.
After eating, I go to the train station and wait for the uptown express. I watch as two local trains arrive, and I see many people getting on the local. I am also standing next to a sign that says that all trains will be running on the local track. So the next train that comes…a local, I get on. 2 or 3 minutes later while the train I was riding is at a local station, the express zooms past. ****!!!
Well, that it for now. I am not sure how the photos will save on this blog, so I will just briefly describe them in the order they were taken:
The golden globe was moved to the park in Bowling Green Park. It used to be located at the World Trade Center site.
Korean War Memorial
A couple of photos of the Statute of Liberty seen from Manhattan island.
Glass atrium that is all that remains (I think) of the Twin Towers.
Various photos taken around the perimeter of the former WTC site.
Various photos of the posters of the WTC site.
One way sign strange composite. Charred building (draped in a flag), and charred street signs almost to nowhere.
My Panda Express lunch
A photo of 14th street station.
My refund ticket for the PATH train.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Red, White, & Blue. And yes, stress too.
Sorry the title sounds a little bit corny. I have a splitting headache, so I am not sure how much I will be able to write at this time. I just returned from a day of walking. I wanted to relax in the bathtub, but if I didn’t start writing my blog, I would start forgetting some of the things that I wanted to write about.
My outside adventure began around 11am. I walked from my home to the bank (to withdraw some money); that is about a 10 city block walk. From the bank I went to the internet shop, to send the prewritten e-mails that I’ve been holding for the last few days. From the shop I was ready to take a train ride down to the World Trade Center site. However, before I went, I decided to make use of the bathroom in the Pathmark store. Here in the US, there are not many public bathrooms available, so you have to go when you can.
The train ride was uneventful going downtown. I got off the train at bowling green which is near the very tip of Manhattan Island. I wandered around Castle Clinton (the Statue of Liberty ticket office), I also walked around the park area. One of the photos I took was of the Korean War Memorial (located in the park). The line to ride the ferry to the statue of Liberty was at least a couple of hours waiting time. There was some kind of festival, but I did not stay to find out more. Here in New York, the weather was very nice, very good day to go walking. I walked from the tip of Manhattan along the Battery Park Promenade to the World Trade Center site.
Since it was such a beautiful day in terms of the weather, I ended up walking passed the WTC site. Also, it has been so long since I’ve been there that I’d forgotten its location. As I walked around the perimeter of the WTC site, I couldn’t help get the feeling that people were more interested in the collapsing of the Twin Towers than the people who died. I could be wrong. Most of the information was about the marvelous engineering of the buildings, and the history of the buildings, and a list of the dead people. Unfortunately, being at “ground zero” didn’t move me the way it should have. Sorry! It just seemed very “touristy”. There were a couple of guys (whispering [not shouting]) trying to sell photo-postcards of the planes hitting the buildings, but the people around just seemed to ignore them. Anyway, I took a few photos. Since I was alone, I am not in most of the photos. I asked a couple of people along the way to take my photo. I will either attach the photos to this blog, or I’ll attach them to my other web site (which is long, long, long overdue for an update).
After walking around the “ground zero” perimeter, I went to the PATH (the Port Authority of NY & NJ) station. My plan was to go to a shopping mall in Jersey City. In the station, the first thing I notice was how the station was very spacious (on the upper level) with not a lot of people in the station. I also noticed that there were no station attendants around; everything was automated. First, I went to the row of ticket gates on the North (!?!?) side. There was a little bit of confusion at the ticket machine, it wasn’t taking the money. Also at this moment, I couldn’t find the single ticket machine. Again, there were no station attendants around, only people complaining. Therefore, I decided to go to the opposite end of the station – South (?!?!) where there were almost no people. Without the people around, I was able to concentrate a little more. Apparently, the PATH system doesn’t have single tickets, so I purchased a two day pass – It cost the same as a round trip ticket. Please don’t ask me to explain.
*I later found out there were two single trip machines (one on the North!? and one on the South side of the station).All the rest of the turnstiles were for passes. About 10 turnstiles at each side of the station.
With my round trip ticket in hand, I walked over to the turnstile and inserted my ticket. And….the turnstile did not let me through. In Japan, you insert your ticket, walk through the turnstile, and pick up the ticket at the other end. I thought the system would be basically the same. I was wrong. When I couldn’t walk through, I stepped back and reinserted my ticket. This time the turnstile flashed green, so I walked through. But…..it did not return my roundtrip ticket! I looked around and again, there was no station attendant. Finally, after about 5 minutes, a guy in a blue shirt walked through the service turnstile which told me he was some kind of station employee. I waved to him (motioning him to come), but he ignored me. So, I started to shout, “help, help, could I have some help please”. He shouted to me, “no, no look for the red shirt.” At this time, I am afraid to leave the turnstile, because I wanted the machine to be untouched when the station attendant looks at it. In Japan, if there is a problem. The station attendant pops open the turnstile pulls out the ticket, refunds the money, and apologizes profusely. For some strange reason, I was expecting the same. I waited about 5 or 10 minutes more, when more blue shirts (one man and one woman) walked….or should I say strolled past me. I explain my situation. The man said nothing, however, the woman points to the phone which is about 3 or 4 turnstiles away. She shouts (she also does not want to come near me) for me the use the phone. I shout back explaining about not wanting anyone to use the machine. She shrugs and keeps on walking. After a few more minutes of waiting, I decide to risk a phone call. While I am on the phone, I have to shout a couple of times to people to not use the turnstile (the one with my roundtrip ticket inside).
I am trying to put you (the reader) into the experience, but with my poor writing skills, it is not working(this blog is turning out to be very long). I forgot to mention that while I am standing at the turnstile, several, I do mean several people are also having various kinds of problems with the machines or the turnstiles, most just seemed to accept the problem or forget about their difficult and walking through. One guy is shouting and cursing about how the machines are worthless junk. All of this is telling me that the machine problems are not rare. Today was my first time there in about 10 years, I felt like a foreigner in a strange country.
Anyway, after more time passes, finally I see a young woman in a red shirt kind of looking at me, but she also doesn’t want to approach me. Unfortunately, at this time, another guy next to me just loses his ticket in the machine (identical situation). While I am beckoning for her to come over shouting, “Yes, I am the one that call. I am the one who called”; I am trying to out shout the guy who is now complaining about losing his ticket. The young attendant explains that when the turnstile flashes green and says enter, you can go through the turnstile. Also there is a time limit, so if you delay walking through the turnstile will not let you in.
You might be asking, what color is the turnstile when it is not flashing green? The answer…………green. Is that stupid or what?
After the attendant waved the other guy through, I explained that I paid $3.00 (US). If I went through the gate, I would still have to pay again for the return trip. The young lady tells me:
The machine can’t be opened up
I can’t receive a refund.
Nothing can be done about the ticket
I am getting angrier and angrier. She is acting like this has never happened before. While she is talking to me, two other people are having problems, and one lady who can’t get change for a $20 dollar bill because she said that the machine won’t take her $20. The young station attendant tells me that I should step away from the turnstile and stand near the wall or she motions to another area by the ticket machines. She says that there is nothing she can do unless she sees the problem happen with her own eyes. But, how many people are going to go through the machine and stupidly put the same ticket in twice. I refused to moved, so…………….
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She calls the PATH police. At the time, I thought she was talking to her superiors. However, moments later, about 4 or 5 police officers come to the ticket gate. About 3 officers approach me; the others kind of linger in the background. The tall one seems to be the one in charge. I explain…again…my situation. And he asks me what I wanted.
To be honest, I really did not know what I wanted. I felt like I was in a strange situation where everyone around me seemed to be unfamiliar with this kind of situation, and they were looking to me to have a solution. I really did not know what to do. If someone had come to me (soon) and said something like “sorry, the boss is not here, you’ll have to wait about 30 minutes”, I probably would have said, forget it and just accepted losing the $1.50. But the longer they kept me waiting, the more I kept expecting (or hoping?!?!) someone would come and address the problem. But they treated me like I was being unreasonable.
After the officer explained that the machine could not be opened to check for the ticket, and that it was only $1.50. I took this to mean that I was supposed to do what the other people were doing, cursing the machines, or losing the fare. The officer also said that a refund was also impossible because “information would have to be filled out”. So again, he asked what I wanted. I just said anything. Anything! I just did not want my (now) 30 minutes to have been in vain. Then the officer suggested….
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A refund!!! But he said that I would have to fill out a refund card. I said I didn’t care. I yanked out a pen from my pocket waving it saying, “here I have a pen, just give me something to write on”. With that, the young lady attendant opens the pouch on her waist and pulls out…… a handful of yellow index cards, and asks me to fill one out. The actual title of the index card was “PATH Replacement Ticket”. She signs the ticket receipt and tears off my copy and hands it to me. I hand something back to her. She said, “What’s that”. I said, “It is an extra receipt. You gave me two”. She laughs and said, “oh”.
I just realize that I have to take a picture of the ticket as my proof of having visited the Twilight Zone.
It’s getting late….”Red, White & Blue” to be continued….
Sorry the title sounds a little bit corny. I have a splitting headache, so I am not sure how much I will be able to write at this time. I just returned from a day of walking. I wanted to relax in the bathtub, but if I didn’t start writing my blog, I would start forgetting some of the things that I wanted to write about.
My outside adventure began around 11am. I walked from my home to the bank (to withdraw some money); that is about a 10 city block walk. From the bank I went to the internet shop, to send the prewritten e-mails that I’ve been holding for the last few days. From the shop I was ready to take a train ride down to the World Trade Center site. However, before I went, I decided to make use of the bathroom in the Pathmark store. Here in the US, there are not many public bathrooms available, so you have to go when you can.
The train ride was uneventful going downtown. I got off the train at bowling green which is near the very tip of Manhattan Island. I wandered around Castle Clinton (the Statue of Liberty ticket office), I also walked around the park area. One of the photos I took was of the Korean War Memorial (located in the park). The line to ride the ferry to the statue of Liberty was at least a couple of hours waiting time. There was some kind of festival, but I did not stay to find out more. Here in New York, the weather was very nice, very good day to go walking. I walked from the tip of Manhattan along the Battery Park Promenade to the World Trade Center site.
Since it was such a beautiful day in terms of the weather, I ended up walking passed the WTC site. Also, it has been so long since I’ve been there that I’d forgotten its location. As I walked around the perimeter of the WTC site, I couldn’t help get the feeling that people were more interested in the collapsing of the Twin Towers than the people who died. I could be wrong. Most of the information was about the marvelous engineering of the buildings, and the history of the buildings, and a list of the dead people. Unfortunately, being at “ground zero” didn’t move me the way it should have. Sorry! It just seemed very “touristy”. There were a couple of guys (whispering [not shouting]) trying to sell photo-postcards of the planes hitting the buildings, but the people around just seemed to ignore them. Anyway, I took a few photos. Since I was alone, I am not in most of the photos. I asked a couple of people along the way to take my photo. I will either attach the photos to this blog, or I’ll attach them to my other web site (which is long, long, long overdue for an update).
After walking around the “ground zero” perimeter, I went to the PATH (the Port Authority of NY & NJ) station. My plan was to go to a shopping mall in Jersey City. In the station, the first thing I notice was how the station was very spacious (on the upper level) with not a lot of people in the station. I also noticed that there were no station attendants around; everything was automated. First, I went to the row of ticket gates on the North (!?!?) side. There was a little bit of confusion at the ticket machine, it wasn’t taking the money. Also at this moment, I couldn’t find the single ticket machine. Again, there were no station attendants around, only people complaining. Therefore, I decided to go to the opposite end of the station – South (?!?!) where there were almost no people. Without the people around, I was able to concentrate a little more. Apparently, the PATH system doesn’t have single tickets, so I purchased a two day pass – It cost the same as a round trip ticket. Please don’t ask me to explain.
*I later found out there were two single trip machines (one on the North!? and one on the South side of the station).All the rest of the turnstiles were for passes. About 10 turnstiles at each side of the station.
With my round trip ticket in hand, I walked over to the turnstile and inserted my ticket. And….the turnstile did not let me through. In Japan, you insert your ticket, walk through the turnstile, and pick up the ticket at the other end. I thought the system would be basically the same. I was wrong. When I couldn’t walk through, I stepped back and reinserted my ticket. This time the turnstile flashed green, so I walked through. But…..it did not return my roundtrip ticket! I looked around and again, there was no station attendant. Finally, after about 5 minutes, a guy in a blue shirt walked through the service turnstile which told me he was some kind of station employee. I waved to him (motioning him to come), but he ignored me. So, I started to shout, “help, help, could I have some help please”. He shouted to me, “no, no look for the red shirt.” At this time, I am afraid to leave the turnstile, because I wanted the machine to be untouched when the station attendant looks at it. In Japan, if there is a problem. The station attendant pops open the turnstile pulls out the ticket, refunds the money, and apologizes profusely. For some strange reason, I was expecting the same. I waited about 5 or 10 minutes more, when more blue shirts (one man and one woman) walked….or should I say strolled past me. I explain my situation. The man said nothing, however, the woman points to the phone which is about 3 or 4 turnstiles away. She shouts (she also does not want to come near me) for me the use the phone. I shout back explaining about not wanting anyone to use the machine. She shrugs and keeps on walking. After a few more minutes of waiting, I decide to risk a phone call. While I am on the phone, I have to shout a couple of times to people to not use the turnstile (the one with my roundtrip ticket inside).
I am trying to put you (the reader) into the experience, but with my poor writing skills, it is not working(this blog is turning out to be very long). I forgot to mention that while I am standing at the turnstile, several, I do mean several people are also having various kinds of problems with the machines or the turnstiles, most just seemed to accept the problem or forget about their difficult and walking through. One guy is shouting and cursing about how the machines are worthless junk. All of this is telling me that the machine problems are not rare. Today was my first time there in about 10 years, I felt like a foreigner in a strange country.
Anyway, after more time passes, finally I see a young woman in a red shirt kind of looking at me, but she also doesn’t want to approach me. Unfortunately, at this time, another guy next to me just loses his ticket in the machine (identical situation). While I am beckoning for her to come over shouting, “Yes, I am the one that call. I am the one who called”; I am trying to out shout the guy who is now complaining about losing his ticket. The young attendant explains that when the turnstile flashes green and says enter, you can go through the turnstile. Also there is a time limit, so if you delay walking through the turnstile will not let you in.
You might be asking, what color is the turnstile when it is not flashing green? The answer…………green. Is that stupid or what?
After the attendant waved the other guy through, I explained that I paid $3.00 (US). If I went through the gate, I would still have to pay again for the return trip. The young lady tells me:
The machine can’t be opened up
I can’t receive a refund.
Nothing can be done about the ticket
I am getting angrier and angrier. She is acting like this has never happened before. While she is talking to me, two other people are having problems, and one lady who can’t get change for a $20 dollar bill because she said that the machine won’t take her $20. The young station attendant tells me that I should step away from the turnstile and stand near the wall or she motions to another area by the ticket machines. She says that there is nothing she can do unless she sees the problem happen with her own eyes. But, how many people are going to go through the machine and stupidly put the same ticket in twice. I refused to moved, so…………….
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She calls the PATH police. At the time, I thought she was talking to her superiors. However, moments later, about 4 or 5 police officers come to the ticket gate. About 3 officers approach me; the others kind of linger in the background. The tall one seems to be the one in charge. I explain…again…my situation. And he asks me what I wanted.
To be honest, I really did not know what I wanted. I felt like I was in a strange situation where everyone around me seemed to be unfamiliar with this kind of situation, and they were looking to me to have a solution. I really did not know what to do. If someone had come to me (soon) and said something like “sorry, the boss is not here, you’ll have to wait about 30 minutes”, I probably would have said, forget it and just accepted losing the $1.50. But the longer they kept me waiting, the more I kept expecting (or hoping?!?!) someone would come and address the problem. But they treated me like I was being unreasonable.
After the officer explained that the machine could not be opened to check for the ticket, and that it was only $1.50. I took this to mean that I was supposed to do what the other people were doing, cursing the machines, or losing the fare. The officer also said that a refund was also impossible because “information would have to be filled out”. So again, he asked what I wanted. I just said anything. Anything! I just did not want my (now) 30 minutes to have been in vain. Then the officer suggested….
↓
↓
↓
A refund!!! But he said that I would have to fill out a refund card. I said I didn’t care. I yanked out a pen from my pocket waving it saying, “here I have a pen, just give me something to write on”. With that, the young lady attendant opens the pouch on her waist and pulls out…… a handful of yellow index cards, and asks me to fill one out. The actual title of the index card was “PATH Replacement Ticket”. She signs the ticket receipt and tears off my copy and hands it to me. I hand something back to her. She said, “What’s that”. I said, “It is an extra receipt. You gave me two”. She laughs and said, “oh”.
I just realize that I have to take a picture of the ticket as my proof of having visited the Twilight Zone.
It’s getting late….”Red, White & Blue” to be continued….
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Inside and Outside. Yesterday evening (at home) turned out better than I thought it would. Again, my father’s lady friend did not cook, so I went to the store to buy some steak. Here in the US, steak is much cheaper than in Japan. For dinner, I cooked steak, and I prepared a box of macaroni & cheese. The evening was again fairly calm, no arguing or shouting. The evening went nice, so there is not much to write about.
Oh, I almost forgot. There was a shooting across the street last night. About 10 bullets were fired. After the shooting, the area was full on police cars. One person was killed, one person was arrested, and one person escaped.
And people wondered why I went to Japan!?!?
Today, I did not do much. For some reason I was tired (in a bored kind of way). I mostly just stayed in bed. Around 4pm, I went to the library. Since I don’t have internet connection at home, I have to make appointments to use the computers at the library. Unfortunately, the computers at the library are not in the best condition. At the moment, there are 4 (out of 6) “out of order” computers. Also, the computers don’t let me use my flash drive.
After a fairly wasted session on the computer at the library, I went shopping. My nephew and I are drinking a little too much juice. We’ve been drinking almost a gallon of juice a day. Therefore, I’ve decided to ration the juice. I am going to try to make a gallon last two or three days each.
Since I suspected that my father’s lady friend would probably not cook, I bought some spaghetti sauce and hamburger meat. I planned to mix up some sauce to go with the leftover spaghetti pasta still in the refrigerator. When I arrived, I was correct. There was nothing cooked. So I cooked the sauce.
I watched a little bit of TV on a portable handheld television I bought years ago. Today, I really had to resist the urge to go out and buy a new TV. I’ve been telling myself that I should not be buying anything that is unnecessary until I start working. Even though I have not been working, I seem to be spending money like there is no tomorrow. Mostly, it seems to be food that I am buying. But, I have also been buying things that really could wait (like curtains, small carpet, small AM/FM radio, floor wax etc….).
Tomorrow, I plan to go to ground zero (the former location of the World Trade Center). I’ve been planning to go there for the last couple of weeks. I also plan to go to the Jersey City Mall. Today, I was planning to buy a JCPenny Fall Big Book catalog via the internet. But, since I have nothing to do, why not get out and do something instead of the same neighborhood walk I’ve been doing for the last couple of weeks. Walk to the internet shop, go shopping then return home and cook.
So….let’s see how successful I am. Hmm…writing my plan (as boring as it is) seems to be motivating me to follow through.
Walk to the internet shop to send the (very old e-mails) that have been sitting in my flash drive.
Take a train to ground zero.
Visit the Jersey City Mall to pick up a copy of the JCPenny catalog. I hope I still remember how to get there.
Return home and probably cook dinner.
Now, let’s see how this blog entry compares with tomorrow’s entry.
Oh, I almost forgot. There was a shooting across the street last night. About 10 bullets were fired. After the shooting, the area was full on police cars. One person was killed, one person was arrested, and one person escaped.
And people wondered why I went to Japan!?!?
Today, I did not do much. For some reason I was tired (in a bored kind of way). I mostly just stayed in bed. Around 4pm, I went to the library. Since I don’t have internet connection at home, I have to make appointments to use the computers at the library. Unfortunately, the computers at the library are not in the best condition. At the moment, there are 4 (out of 6) “out of order” computers. Also, the computers don’t let me use my flash drive.
After a fairly wasted session on the computer at the library, I went shopping. My nephew and I are drinking a little too much juice. We’ve been drinking almost a gallon of juice a day. Therefore, I’ve decided to ration the juice. I am going to try to make a gallon last two or three days each.
Since I suspected that my father’s lady friend would probably not cook, I bought some spaghetti sauce and hamburger meat. I planned to mix up some sauce to go with the leftover spaghetti pasta still in the refrigerator. When I arrived, I was correct. There was nothing cooked. So I cooked the sauce.
I watched a little bit of TV on a portable handheld television I bought years ago. Today, I really had to resist the urge to go out and buy a new TV. I’ve been telling myself that I should not be buying anything that is unnecessary until I start working. Even though I have not been working, I seem to be spending money like there is no tomorrow. Mostly, it seems to be food that I am buying. But, I have also been buying things that really could wait (like curtains, small carpet, small AM/FM radio, floor wax etc….).
Tomorrow, I plan to go to ground zero (the former location of the World Trade Center). I’ve been planning to go there for the last couple of weeks. I also plan to go to the Jersey City Mall. Today, I was planning to buy a JCPenny Fall Big Book catalog via the internet. But, since I have nothing to do, why not get out and do something instead of the same neighborhood walk I’ve been doing for the last couple of weeks. Walk to the internet shop, go shopping then return home and cook.
So….let’s see how successful I am. Hmm…writing my plan (as boring as it is) seems to be motivating me to follow through.
Walk to the internet shop to send the (very old e-mails) that have been sitting in my flash drive.
Take a train to ground zero.
Visit the Jersey City Mall to pick up a copy of the JCPenny catalog. I hope I still remember how to get there.
Return home and probably cook dinner.
Now, let’s see how this blog entry compares with tomorrow’s entry.
Stress, Stress and more stress. It’s coming and going. Yesterday, I went to the library to use the internet. The lady’s computer next to mine froze, so she started complaining how the service downtown was better than the service uptown….Duh!!! Then, she continued on with how she has had this problem before….And she continued talking about how it is important to not let these kinds of problems get a person distressed. And….then….she continued talking about how the library system were pretty sophisticated, but the machines were not.
While the woman continued talking I tried to get a free credit report. Here in New York, everyone is entitled to receive one free credit report per year. A couple of newspapers mentioned a web site that a person could visit to make a request for a copy on-line. I assumed that since a couple (two) newspapers mentioned this web site, then this web site should be okay. Unfortunately, I typed in my personal information then received a message saying “sorry, a credit report can’t be sent”. The message said that I would have to mail a request by post office. Now I am stressed about having typed in my personal information (Name, Address, Social Security Number, phone number etc…). Was it one of those fake identity theft web sites? While I tried to exit the web site…….the computer I was using froze. Now I am stressed about the identity information. And, while the librarian is dealing with me…the lady is still talking. The librarian, trying to solve the problem, shuts down the computer. When I tried to make a reservation for the next day on the registration computer, the program would not let me register; it kept saying that I was still active in the system. The librarian said that the program won’t let me register while I am “still active in the system”. Stress!
When I returned home, there was no food out, which meant that my father’s lady friend was not in the mood to cook. So, I went out to buy some chicken and Spanish rice. My father has a thing about freezing all of the meat until it is time to cook it. Personally, I don’t like that system. I don’t know what I have a taste for until I start cooking. With the meats all frozen, he has to take out the meat that he wants to cook hours before so that it can defrost. When I cook, I don’t bother with the defrosting/waiting game. I just go shopping.
After returning from the store, and cleaning the chicken, I discover that there is no butter, so I have to return to the store to buy butter. Stress! While the food is cooking, I wash the dishes that were left (by somebody). As soon as I finish cooking (but still washing dishes), my nephew is ready to eat.
Once again, cooking dinner seems to put everyone in a relatively good mood. The evening goes by fairly well, no arguing or shouting – not between my father and his lady friend, nor between my father and his grandson. I was expecting this to be one evening where I was not a referee or a spectator. Usually, the evening routine is for my father to find something to yell about to his grandson. I think it is very unfair for someone his age (71)to be taking care of a 17 year old. Anyway, everything seemed to be going nice…that is…until the phone rang.
It turns out that the nephew has been cutting (not attending) his PE classes since school started. This set the yell-a-thon into full swing. Oh, who was on the phone? The child’s father. I assumed that he called with the hope (and expectation) that his child’s grandfather would go to the school. Remember, the child is here only because there was no space for him at his mother’s apartment, and no space at his father’s apartment. How is it that kids can have kids, but can’t raise the kids they create. Rhetorical question.
This morning, my father and his lady friend had an argument about something so incredible trivial “a you said……., no I didn’t” argument, you would not believe it. About an hour after the argument, my brother (the one who arrived at 4 in the morning knocking on the door like a maniac, the one who put a hot pot on a plastic dish rack – Oh, I think you get the picture). He called to ask his father to pick him up from his sister’s house. He wants to stay here….here for a (he’s not sure how many) few days! Stress!!!
And the day isn’t half over!!!!
While the woman continued talking I tried to get a free credit report. Here in New York, everyone is entitled to receive one free credit report per year. A couple of newspapers mentioned a web site that a person could visit to make a request for a copy on-line. I assumed that since a couple (two) newspapers mentioned this web site, then this web site should be okay. Unfortunately, I typed in my personal information then received a message saying “sorry, a credit report can’t be sent”. The message said that I would have to mail a request by post office. Now I am stressed about having typed in my personal information (Name, Address, Social Security Number, phone number etc…). Was it one of those fake identity theft web sites? While I tried to exit the web site…….the computer I was using froze. Now I am stressed about the identity information. And, while the librarian is dealing with me…the lady is still talking. The librarian, trying to solve the problem, shuts down the computer. When I tried to make a reservation for the next day on the registration computer, the program would not let me register; it kept saying that I was still active in the system. The librarian said that the program won’t let me register while I am “still active in the system”. Stress!
When I returned home, there was no food out, which meant that my father’s lady friend was not in the mood to cook. So, I went out to buy some chicken and Spanish rice. My father has a thing about freezing all of the meat until it is time to cook it. Personally, I don’t like that system. I don’t know what I have a taste for until I start cooking. With the meats all frozen, he has to take out the meat that he wants to cook hours before so that it can defrost. When I cook, I don’t bother with the defrosting/waiting game. I just go shopping.
After returning from the store, and cleaning the chicken, I discover that there is no butter, so I have to return to the store to buy butter. Stress! While the food is cooking, I wash the dishes that were left (by somebody). As soon as I finish cooking (but still washing dishes), my nephew is ready to eat.
Once again, cooking dinner seems to put everyone in a relatively good mood. The evening goes by fairly well, no arguing or shouting – not between my father and his lady friend, nor between my father and his grandson. I was expecting this to be one evening where I was not a referee or a spectator. Usually, the evening routine is for my father to find something to yell about to his grandson. I think it is very unfair for someone his age (71)to be taking care of a 17 year old. Anyway, everything seemed to be going nice…that is…until the phone rang.
It turns out that the nephew has been cutting (not attending) his PE classes since school started. This set the yell-a-thon into full swing. Oh, who was on the phone? The child’s father. I assumed that he called with the hope (and expectation) that his child’s grandfather would go to the school. Remember, the child is here only because there was no space for him at his mother’s apartment, and no space at his father’s apartment. How is it that kids can have kids, but can’t raise the kids they create. Rhetorical question.
This morning, my father and his lady friend had an argument about something so incredible trivial “a you said……., no I didn’t” argument, you would not believe it. About an hour after the argument, my brother (the one who arrived at 4 in the morning knocking on the door like a maniac, the one who put a hot pot on a plastic dish rack – Oh, I think you get the picture). He called to ask his father to pick him up from his sister’s house. He wants to stay here….here for a (he’s not sure how many) few days! Stress!!!
And the day isn’t half over!!!!
Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Not much to write about. I’m just going to write a few lines before my internet appointment at the library.
Room update. Sometime last week, I finally got around to waxing my floor. I was a little upset about the poor quality of the floor wax I bought. The minute I squirted it onto the floor, I knew it was a waste of money, it was some kind of water/wax mix. I put 3 coats of wax down, but the floor still did not have the glow my Mitaka apartment had. As for furniture, I’ve added a few pieces. The kitchen table that I bought when I was living alone (before I moved to Japan), I am now using as my desk. My old halogen lamp (also from my previous apartment), and a couple of cheap drapes round out the additions I’ve made to my room. Yes (you are probably thinking), the kitchen table and the halogen lamps (there were two -- one white and one green) were part of the junk collection that my father has stored here. Although I am now glad that he did save these things, I still think that he is holding onto too much junk. If he had gotten rid of the table and lamps, it would not have bothered me to buy new ones.
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I’m back! Well, I did not finish my blog entry before I went to the library, so I’ll finish up now, although there is not much to write about now. I like the system the library has for using the internet; you have to register in advance to use the computers. Unfortunately for me, the computers don’t have a USB port for my flash memory drive. I am really kicking myself for not getting the external floppy drive when I had the chance. I really didn’t think that I would need the floppy drive. Oh well, moving on….
My room is still in a just moved in (disorganized) state, so I have not included a photo yet. I have a general idea of the layout I want in the room. Maybe I’ll neaten up my room and take a picture to attach to this blog entry.
Yesterday, my father’s lady friend’s son’s girlfriend called to ask if she could use our stove because hers is not working. She was supposed to come today, but she called to say that she had a dentist appointment and she would be late. Later she called to change the time to tomorrow. Also yesterday, my father’s lady friend’s son (the one about my age) stopped by to pick up some of his things that were also being stored here. While he was here, he retold the story of how he injured his knee last year play wrestling with his sons. The injury was so bad that he required hospitalization and surgery. To briefly summarize, he said that when he came home, his sons were trying to impress their girlfriends by showing that they were stronger than their father. He showed them that they were not stronger, but he injured his knee in the process.
Back to me. This afternoon, after I went to the library, I decided to splurge a little and treat myself to lunch at a neighborhood restaurant. The restaurant is a buffet-style with soul food menu. After customers make their selections, they take their order to the cashier to be weighed. Today I ordered Caribbean chicken, Spanish rice, green vegetables, sweet potatoes, and a juice. My order came to $10.21(US). At this restaurant, they charge by the pound.
When I returned home, I took a nap (more from boredom than fatigue). When I woke up, my father’s lady friend had not cooked dinner. At first, I was not going to cook anything, but I realized that if my father was in a bad mood, there would probably be a lot of shouting and arguing – with me in the middle. I decided to make a quick run to the store to buy the ingredients for a spaghetti dinner. When I returned home, I could see that I’d made the correct choice. My father was glad when I said that I would cook spaghetti. Since everyone has a hearty appetite, I cooked about a pack and a half of pasta and a jar and a half of spaghetti sauce, which should have been enough for a couple of days…at least. I keep the pasta and the sauce separate until it is put on the plate, because if mixed, then usually the spaghetti dries out. Anyway, everyone seemed to have liked my spaghetti dinner. Unfortunately, my father and my nephew liked the meat sauce more than the pasta; they ate the sauce like it was a meat soup. Even before I’d finished washing the pots and dishes, they had eaten a couple of servings of the meat sauce, leaving less than a cup of sauce left. Now there is about 3 or 4 lbs. of plain pasta and about a cup of sauce. I think this evening was a success, it was relatively quiet. No shouting and no arguing. I am happy – relatively speaking and it only cost me about 2 hours worth of cooking and cleaning.
Now, what do I do with the pounds of plain pasta?
Friday, September 16, 2005

Final results of a day of cleaning.
Another blog entry for today. Actually, since I no longer have direct internet connection, the blogs are starting to bleed together. I have to first pre-type the blogs at home then go to an internet café or library to post the blogs. Oh, by the way, that also applies to e-mails. First I have to download the e-mails onto a thumb drive, then read and reply at home, then come back another time to post the e-mails. A pain in the backside. Yes, it is.
Yesterday, I washed the back room. I started with the ceiling, then I washed the walls. I took a break to eat a late lunch and go to the store – I needed more wash clothes to finish washing the walls. I was amazed by how much grease, dirt and dust I was able to wash away. I was expecting to only get the dust and some of the dirt off, but I was very surprised how clean the ceiling and the walls became. I also scrubbed the radiator. You would not believe how much dog hair was inside the grills. My father said that it looked like I painted the room. I will attach a photo. Now, I am going to the library to get a library card, so that I can use the internet. After I post these blogs, and send the e-mails. I will walk to the Pathmark store in my neighborhood (about 10 city blocks away), I need to buy some floor wax for my floor. I need to wax my floor. Then later I will wash the closet walls and floor. Then I will finally be finish cleaning. Hopefully, it won’t rain while I am at the store. Until next time…..
It’s all relative…more or less. There is a little bit of math involved.
Last night, my father’s lady friend’s son came by to visit (his mother). Her son is one year older than I am. Her son also brought his son to visit his grandmother. Why? He wanted his son to see grandma – or is it correct to say “to see his great grandma. First, let me say that the family is a very nice family. Each and every one of them has been a pleasure to know. Each one is generous, and would (I believe) go out of his (or her) way to help someone in need. Unfortunately, I was just a little troubled by the situation. Basically, a kid showing off another kid. Only the grandmother (or great grandmother) has shown real skill in raising children. Yes, I know so of you will see an irony in the previous statement.
I asked the son (the one about my age) how it feels to be a grandfather. I was surprised by the look on his face. Anger? No. Hatred? No. Embarrassment? No.
Confusion. In my opinion, the idea just didn’t seem to register. Looking at father and son, I couldn’t help getting the feeling that I was looking at a couple of guys (pals) hanging out at a friend’s mom’s house. The concepts of family, or responsibility just seem to vaguely hang in the background. I should have just let things go, but I was in one of my moods. During the course of the visit, I referred to the son as grandpa. “Grandpa, you must have a lot more responsibilities now. Grandpa, you must be feeling a lot older now. Grandpa, you must be feeling a little bit different now.” I think by the 4th or 5th “Grandpa” comment, the concept was starting to sink in…a little. The topic of the conversation changed. The son began to talk about the job tests that he had taken, and the skills that he had. What about the fatherly responsibilities? He did mentioned, “now that this one is 19, he is on his own. I just have 4 more to go.” When mom (or grandma, or ….I’m confused). When mom made a comment about his kids, the son quickly reminded her of another neighbor (or friend?) who had 7 kids (same age [I think]).
There was also a little bit of conflict. The 9 month old seemed to be hungry. The father said that he had already given the baby some milk. The great grandmother said that the baby needed more than just milk. I felt a little sad watching this 19 yr. old kid chew up fried chicken and then feed it to the baby. While this was going on, I think the father (the one my age) was playing with….uh…using his cell phone camera to take pictures of everyone.
While this was going on my nephew (my sister’s son) came into the kitchen area. His mother is the same age as I am. I think I am 4 months older than my sister. She recently gave birth to another child (her 3rd child). Wait! I think I am a few months older than she is. We might have the same birthdates. You are probably thinking how come he doesn’t know his sister’s age.
Actually, I am living with my former foster family. I’ve been a part of this family since I was 12. What about my original (or birth) family? There isn’t much information given when a child is put into foster care. However, I was lucky!?!? The agency gave me enough information to find my original (or birth) family if I wanted to find them. What information did I receive?
My mother was 16 when she gave birth to me, and my father was 32. I was born in Bellevue Hospital. I was placed in foster care immediately after birth. My first foster mother was Hispanic. Hey! I could have been bilingual.
Well, anyway. From my glowing birth information, you can see that there is not much worth searching for. It’s all relative….more or less.
Last night, my father’s lady friend’s son came by to visit (his mother). Her son is one year older than I am. Her son also brought his son to visit his grandmother. Why? He wanted his son to see grandma – or is it correct to say “to see his great grandma. First, let me say that the family is a very nice family. Each and every one of them has been a pleasure to know. Each one is generous, and would (I believe) go out of his (or her) way to help someone in need. Unfortunately, I was just a little troubled by the situation. Basically, a kid showing off another kid. Only the grandmother (or great grandmother) has shown real skill in raising children. Yes, I know so of you will see an irony in the previous statement.
I asked the son (the one about my age) how it feels to be a grandfather. I was surprised by the look on his face. Anger? No. Hatred? No. Embarrassment? No.
Confusion. In my opinion, the idea just didn’t seem to register. Looking at father and son, I couldn’t help getting the feeling that I was looking at a couple of guys (pals) hanging out at a friend’s mom’s house. The concepts of family, or responsibility just seem to vaguely hang in the background. I should have just let things go, but I was in one of my moods. During the course of the visit, I referred to the son as grandpa. “Grandpa, you must have a lot more responsibilities now. Grandpa, you must be feeling a lot older now. Grandpa, you must be feeling a little bit different now.” I think by the 4th or 5th “Grandpa” comment, the concept was starting to sink in…a little. The topic of the conversation changed. The son began to talk about the job tests that he had taken, and the skills that he had. What about the fatherly responsibilities? He did mentioned, “now that this one is 19, he is on his own. I just have 4 more to go.” When mom (or grandma, or ….I’m confused). When mom made a comment about his kids, the son quickly reminded her of another neighbor (or friend?) who had 7 kids (same age [I think]).
There was also a little bit of conflict. The 9 month old seemed to be hungry. The father said that he had already given the baby some milk. The great grandmother said that the baby needed more than just milk. I felt a little sad watching this 19 yr. old kid chew up fried chicken and then feed it to the baby. While this was going on, I think the father (the one my age) was playing with….uh…using his cell phone camera to take pictures of everyone.
While this was going on my nephew (my sister’s son) came into the kitchen area. His mother is the same age as I am. I think I am 4 months older than my sister. She recently gave birth to another child (her 3rd child). Wait! I think I am a few months older than she is. We might have the same birthdates. You are probably thinking how come he doesn’t know his sister’s age.
Actually, I am living with my former foster family. I’ve been a part of this family since I was 12. What about my original (or birth) family? There isn’t much information given when a child is put into foster care. However, I was lucky!?!? The agency gave me enough information to find my original (or birth) family if I wanted to find them. What information did I receive?
My mother was 16 when she gave birth to me, and my father was 32. I was born in Bellevue Hospital. I was placed in foster care immediately after birth. My first foster mother was Hispanic. Hey! I could have been bilingual.
Well, anyway. From my glowing birth information, you can see that there is not much worth searching for. It’s all relative….more or less.
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