One Year Later

One year ago to the day my Nana died. It’s surreal to watch somebody you’ve known your whole life, especially somebody who was so feisty and full of life, go gently into that good night but sometimes people get sick and they just don’t get better. The week leading up to her the death was like a snowball that turned into an avalanche. When we took her into the hospital nobody thought she would be gone in a week. It seemed like something she had overcome before but slowly it dawned that this was different. She wasn’t getting better. It dawned on me after leaving the hospital on Wednesday that this was it but Thursday was the last day. Nearly everyone she loved was able to see her that day as she lay there. I wondered as people passed through if Nana ever thought this would be the way her lived in story would end. If when she was younger she thought her last moments would be in the company of her daughters, son-in-laws and grandkids. How did she think she was going to go?

I don’t really remember the last words she said to me but I do remember calling my mom when she took her to the hospital and hearing Nana say tell Jason thank you for calling. She could barely speak due to her hardness of breath but she still had the old world polite manners to thank me. Or how when she could barely function in those last hours she still had the Nana like instinct to point to people’s nails to remind them to get a manicure. That kind of stuff just floors me. She was as I like to say, a Nana.

I do remember though, the last words I said to her. It was getting late and was time to leave the hospital and I went over to her and started to say “I’ll see ya soon” but I stopped before the soon part because I thought soon was a weird thing to say. I didn’t want to say goodbye because who wants to say goodbye so I settled on my usual “I’ll see ya later Nana” and that was it. How can you say goodbye to somebody who you’ve seen nearly every day of your life? It’s a question I didn’t want to answer but came up with one anyway.

She died peacefully the next morning and the rush of the practical took over. By the end of the weekend was the funeral and the shiva call and then just silence and a remembrance candle burning away. Nothing to do but think about it and just keep on keeping on.

It’s been a year since she’s died and so much has changed. Her perfect Nana home on East 29^th street is now just another New York City apartment. My family moved out of our old area and have transitioned from proud Manhattanites to less boastful Queensers. I’m working at becoming a tour guide something that had never crossed my mind a year ago. I’ve fallen in and out (and in again and out one more time) of love with some very lovely women, but I could have guessed that one. Our country is being run by leaders with a frighteningly high degree of insanity and incompetence. In her high school yearbook from Washington Irving, dated 1946, the theme was about the hope of peace and unity that would come after World War II. Now it seems we’re farther than ever from those ideals. It’s been quite a year since her death.

But things go on I suppose. I felt guilty anytime I had fun for a period knowing she was dead. For me to be out experiencing things while she couldn’t felt wrong. I got over that but a weirdness still lingers on. I guess it may never fully leave.

One of the lasting memories from that weekend, other than the brutal cold, was thinking about how this was the first time I could remember Nana being the center of attention for a group larger than her immediate family. She hated any sort of mass attention and it seemed oddly fitting that her funeral would be the only event she would be the focus of. Just another thing that made her not just a Nana but the Nana and most importantly my family’s Nana. We miss you.

Snow in the Winter?

People it tends to snow during the winter. Stop freaking out about a few inches of snow. It happens, especially when it’s cold out! We should know how to deal with this already. So why does it feel like every year I have to listen to a million frantic reporters standing in front of some snow plows and explain what is going to happen and how the city will prepare for another storm of the century. Spoiler alert – it’s going to be the same thing they did last year and the last year and all those other years sans the ONE snowstorm that Mayor Bloomberg decided wasn’t a big deal and then turned out to be the biggest deal. I blame that one fuck up for the reason we all freak out and go into nuclear holocaust mode the second the Doppler radar picks up anything resembling a winter wonderland. The Mayor will most likely close public schools for the day (prompting our new Education Secretary to ask how she could implement these closings permanently), snow plows will be deployed, businesses will run sort of normally, salt will be carelessly thrown around, and the subway will be awful because the MTA hasn’t figured out how to run them efficiently in weather that can’t be described as “San Diego” like. We’ve done this before people and I’m going to guess we’ll be doing this dance again – maybe in a few weeks. Gasp, what a trip this season can be with the freezing rain.

Perhaps all the freaking out over a foot of snow is preparation for the very near future when snowfall will be an uncommon phenomenon due to global warming and our present administration’s policy that it is a hoax perpetrated by the Chinese. Then all these “breaking news” updates about snow will make sense. Ah, I can see it now. A young reporter stands in front of a rusted out snow plow dressed in a blazer because it’s the heaviest coat he’s ever needed. He soon dies of exposure and the network gets blamed for putting a rookie out there for the most physically taxing assignment in years. How could they! The Mayor of our fine city interrupts every broadcast and repeats on a loop how to sprinkle salt onto a frozen sidewalk. A nostalgic Buzzfeed article about how only 1990’s kids will remember real gloves will go super- duper viral. And of course the subway will be awful but nobody will be able to tell the difference between that and normal service.

The way people freak out about snow every year reminds me of how my body fails me every springtime during allergy season. My body should know that pollen really doesn’t pose a threat to me but for some reason every goddamn April to June my body decides it’s the biggest problem in the world and goes into maximum overdrive to protect my poor body. Slowly it realizes that it was wrong and gradually my face stops feeling like its on fire. Every year my body has had to deal with pollen and every year without failing it gets the response wrong. Just one year I’d like my immune system to be like oh wait it’s just pollen let’s not freak out, but that’ll never happen. Same thing with snow. Oh this happens every year, let’s deal with it like it’s a yearly occurrence rather than viewing it as the winter rapture. I like to think we as a society, or at least as New Yorkers, are better than this.

Facebook Invite Annoyances

Why are you saying maybe on a Facebook invite? Checking maybe says I’ll go unless something better comes around which means I’ll totally drop your thing. Maybe is just proving to the people in the group that you have a life filled with wonder and possibilities and you can’t be tied down to one thing. You’re a peacock goddamn it and you need to fly! A maybe says don’t think for one second that your little birthday party or clarinet recital is the only thing I could potentially attend at 8:30 this upcoming Saturday. If there is one satisfying answer in the world to people planning an event it is the always fun “eh maybe”. At least when someone says no you have total metaphysical certitude that you’ll have one less person to worry about. A maybe just hangs people in suspense and tries to turn the event about you as if everybody will be on their tip toes awaiting your arrival. Nobody is glancing at the door to see if you’ll turn that yellow maybe into a green yes. The nerve and narcissism of some people. Awful. Just awful.

Also if you can’t attend an event that was proposed through Facebook, decline it without putting out the always necessary essay of why you can’t attend said event. Again it’s nothing but pure narcissism and ego feeding. I’d love to go your little birthday soiree but unfortunately I have plans that are more important than the one day of the year that’s supposed to be centered around you. Who are you trying to impress by putting the reason you can’t attend the event? It’s not like the host is going to see your plans and decided fuck it let’s do what they’re doing. Cancel my party I can’t compete with this kid’s trip to Wilmington, Delaware. Why try to upstage the host who so graciously decided to share an event with you? This humble host looked through a list of profile pictures and when they came to your face decided, “sure why not” and made you a part of their special day. Now you want to tell them that not only can you not attend (for shame) and doubly you have better things to do. Terrible. Just terrible.

The proper way to decline a Facebook invite is to just click decline and leave it there. When I am making my little events I could care less the reason you can’t go. All I know is that you are dead to me. If you must disclose the reason why you can’t attend, text the person or tell them directly. Don’t let the world know what you’re up to, no one on the thread cares or frankly enjoys getting lame ass notifications from the birthday thread. If you’re not updating the info on the party don’t post in the thread. I can’t believe we’ve had Facebook for so long and still don’t know how to properly RSVP to an event. Disappointing. Just disappointing. 

A Series of Unfortunate Events Review

Below are some thoughts on Netflix’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. I had read the books way back in the day and thought why not watch the show in one night. There are spoilers because c’mon.

The Baudelaire orphans were okay but I never felt connected to their struggle other than jeez what an unlucky bunch of kids. This isn’t an indictment of the actor/actresses playing them but more on their characters. They always seem to get out of everything so easily so I never felt like they were ever in any danger. Plus they are super pretentious and rather cold and distant which I will wildly assume is due to their rich kid upbringing. The fact that Klaus looks and dresses like mini-Woody Allen isn’t helping matters much either. Violet looks so similar to Emily Browning from the movie adaptation that I wasn’t sure for a minute if the time space continuum had collapsed and it was the same actress. Sunny was a baby and the biting scenes were fine so I’m not going to pull the obnoxious move of critiquing a baby’s acting. I mean who does that.

Count Olaf was the highlight and every scene he wasn’t in for me was a drag. Neil Patrick Harris was everything I wanted this throw-back mustache twirling villain to be and I felt myself sort of rooting for him as much as I was calling him a piece of shit (lovingly of course). He even was able to bring in some unsettling menace particularly when he put his arm over Violet and said “he can touch anything he wants”, that’s creepy kid’s show or not. Out of all his disguises I’d have to put the bumbling Stefano first just for that ridiculous popcorn gag and the knife explanation. Shirley was interesting in the way they went for the classic 40’s buxom beauty but she was not fleshed out enough. They could have gone further with her. Captain Sham was the best in terms of disguises but other than the spoon playing I found him to be the weakest of the three. Plus why didn’t Sunny just bite off his peg leg earlier? Come on baby!

It’s funny what I remember from the books and what I didn’t when watching the series. I know they changed up the fourth book a bit and gave Sir and Charles a discreet romantic relationship but other than that I spent the whole series going “oh yeah I remember that sugar bowl thing and VFD means something major”. All the Baudelaire guardians were great from Aasif Mandvi’s cheerful but misguided Dr. Montgomery Montgomery to Alfre Woodward’s fearful Aunt Josephine. My main problem with them is that they all chew up the scenery and suck up all charisma from the bland Baudelaires (again more a problem with their characterizations) that I wasn’t invested in the suffering of the kids. I wanted to spend more time with the adults than those plucky orphans.

Seeing Patrick Warburton as Lemony Snicket was kind of weird. I kept waiting from him to make a joke but kudos to him for playing against character and playing a quasi-straight man/unreliable narrator type. It took a bit to get used to, especially with all that dictionary word defining early, but eventually he flowed well with the rest of the overqualified and delightful adult cast.

Breaking the fourth wall has become an unwritten rule in modern television apparently but this time I wasn’t annoyed with that trope. Probably because I was under the spell of that the delightful Count Olaf. My favorite instance came with Stephano preferring an evening of streaming long form television to going to the movies and then finished the joke by complaining to one of his henchmen about the matter on the phone in the next scene. Well played NPH.

Mr. Poe is probably the real villain of the series. The orphans are never wrong yet he refuses to listen to them. What the hell man? Just once wouldn’t he think it would be prudent to listen these odd children who somehow have been right about everything so far?

Good twist with Will Arnett and Colbie Smulders being the parents of the Quagmire triplets. Didn’t see that one coming.

The real highlight of the series is Neil Patrick Harris changing up the theme song for every episode. Let that man host the Tonys!

Overcoming Writer's Block (or Something about a Date)

A week ago or something to that effect I wrote a story about a failed romantic encounter. Much to my amusement and chagrin it became quite popular. It’s a weird feeling when someone greats you as Mr. 3.5, but hey at least that means they read your stuff. I did enjoy telling the story so I thought why not go down that well again and reminisce about another escapade of my romantic days. But perhaps this time I’d switch it up. Instead of telling a tale of me falling, falling, falling, I’d relay a story of triumph. This time I thought it’s time to weave a yarn of a positive romantic story to prove to the my faithful following and to my myself (but mainly my faithful following) that I am not necessarily the Woody Allen/ Larry David/ Harry Potter looking character I seem to portray. A good idea I thought until I hit a major problem. I could not find the words to tell what’s true.

Simply put I got a case of the old writer’s block. I got through several opening paragraphs of this, at least to me, delightful story but I just couldn’t commit to a version that I liked. Different problems with my method would occur but always at the same spot and it was a very early spot in the story. I couldn’t get passed meeting her after work. I would play with a long vague introduction of the past and segue into my feelings at the present but that would just abruptly end once I typed, “I put my guide book away and we walked through Bryant Park.” Other times I would start trying to ape what I did for the 3.5 story but that style was different. That story had an immediacy to it that I couldn’t nor should want to replicate. The Clash once sang that lightning strikes not once but twice (off their Sandinista album) but I’m not the Clash and the bolt was long gone. Why couldn’t I do this? Why couldn’t I write about a particularly fun date I had?

It’s not like the date was boring or ordinary; it had some great twists and turns and I had certain parts mapped out but I couldn’t fully connect the pieces. What was preventing me from putting this down the way it needed to be written? Maybe the story was too personal but then again when has that stopped me from ever sharing anything. Case in point a respected colleague of mine dubbed me “no-filter Thompson”. As nicknames goes it’s weak in the rhyming or alliterative department but it more than pulls its weight in the field of accuracy. There must be something to it because it’s stuck to the point where I on occasion try to live up to that lofty title. I don’t mind it, in fact I find it quite disarming. My theory is if I open up and am completely honest you’ll have no problem doing the same and we can start connecting as people. Also I just don’t care. Usually I’m trying to amuse myself by sharing my “hilarious” stories with others. It’s how I please the narcissist in me.

But getting back to the point, why couldn’t I write this story where things ended up very good. Why was this particular dating anecdote giving me so much trouble? My stories of failure or strangeness had poured out but for some reason nothing was flowing when I tried to accentuate the positive. Am I just a negative person? Was it really that simply? Had I grown so accustomed to living out a self-proclaimed “bizarre” life that when something “bizarre and great” happens I don’t know how to process it? Jesus, if that was the honest truth that would be fucking depressing, but I don’t really think so. It had to be something else cause I’m not necessarily a negative person but more the type who embraces their emotions a little too fully. Probably a little too much if you ask certain friends and colleagues of mine but hey someone once told me that kind of living was cathartic. Actually that person was me but that’s a topic for another self-indulgent blog post.

In the end I think it had to do with how much that day and date meant to me. A popular thing to do towards the end of 2016 was to discuss how we all survived an abnormally poor year. But I was talking to some people and we decided to flip the script and talk about what we enjoyed most about 2016. I thought about some great moments I had over the year, but I kept circling back to that date with her. It was a night where everything got better and better and every time I replayed the past I kept remembering different details that would make me smile. Moments would flash by and my glasses became rosy red and the nostalgia would reach its full effect. I would think back to us sitting on a bench overlooking the 59^th Street Bridge like we were shooting a remake of the famous scene from Manhattan. Of course the only difference was that there were a bunch of bums near us and one of them was so kind as to offer us a piece of his dinner which we both foolishly accepted, but in retrospect (and several doctor appointments later) turned out to be a strange highlight of the evening. Or later when she grabbed my cheeks and said “ahh I love this face” and I thought it was one of the greatest things I had ever heard. Or towards the beginning of the evening when we ate oysters in a way that would make Tom Jones proud. Maybe it was the heavy nostalgia shading my eyes, and it most likely was, but that was probably my favorite moment of last year. It wasn’t simply how well the date went, but who it was with and the timing of it all. It was something I had wanted for a long while and it was all happening and I didn’t want it to end.

Which brings me back to my main point of why I couldn’t write about this particular evening of mine and that was because it would never come out the way it deserved to be told. There would always be something incomplete and left to linger on in the streets of Manhattan. And that’s fine, maybe it’s better than me going into my no-filter Thompson mode. It was my favorite time of last year and there is no way I can express that in lines. It was one of those moments you look back on and can’t help but be glad that it happened and that you were lucky to be involved. Now of course it would have been simpler to state this now obvious reason a few paragraphs ago but sometimes self-indulgence at 4 in the morning can be a good and incredibly cathartic thing. Perhaps it’s just the narcissist in me.  

Golden Globes Recap

Thoughts on this year’s Golden Globes:

Why doesn’t Kristen Wiig host the Golden Globes? I think she’s the only comedian who routinely never booms on award shows and is hilarious with every comedian she’s paired with. Her bit with Steve Carrell was easily the comedic highlight of the night (don’t dismiss this as faint praise due to the lameness of the host) and reminded people to YouTube every other bit she’s ever done on an award show. Now naturally the question arises of whether she can sustain this hilarity for the thankless role of host or do these segments float because they break up the monotony of this intolerable circle jerk? I’m willing to bet on the first theory and I hope she gets a major hosting gig soon.

Meryl Streep gave the speech of the New Year but my favorite part was the predictable right wing criticism that accompanied it. The only shocker was that Trump didn’t finish his “Meryl is overrated” tweet by ending it with “sad”. That seems to be his preferred sentence finisher. Then came the conservative chorus of Hollywood being elitist and out of touch with the middle of the America and this time that claim ran even more hollow than usual. How are you going to say that the guy born to incredible wealth and lives in a golden penthouse is somehow not an out of touch snobby elitist? He has a star on the Walk of Fame and has spent his life trying to get has far away from the middle class and poor as possible by building those giant eye sores for the rich and well to do around my fair city (and the world). When has Donald Trump done anything for anybody outside of himself or those who could further his position and his place? I’ll give you a hint: never! So stop pretending that Donald Trump isn’t a part of this Hollywood elitist culture, I mean his brand is based on being the national embodiment of the rich New York City asshole. So let’s cut it out with this whole Donald Trump is a man of the people routine.  

Kudos on the cameramen for focusing in on noted Hollywood conservatives Mel Gibson and Vince Vaughn during Meryl Streep’s incredibly passionate and liberal speech. Those reaction shots were all worth it.

We get it Tom Hiddleston, you’re a good person and you do god’s work. Again good work on the cameramen for finding the few reaction shots of people who didn’t roll their eyes all the way to the back of their skulls.

Jimmy Fallon’s monologue was kind of funny, but then again you let Trump of the hook and tussled his hair, so mixed feelings I guess?

I actually think the Golden Globes does it right in terms of having separate categories for comedies and dramas. Why we have this idea that comedy is inferior to the frowny face mask is beyond me. So good on that. Now if they would start nominating better movies…

Why were the people behind La La Land talking about their movie like it was the ultimate outsider movie? Tell me again how Hollywood was against a movie that has been described as a love letter to Los Angeles and its musical past? I fail to see how anybody in Los Angeles would want to make that kind of film especially when it stars two of the most attractive and bankable stars on the planet and directed by the guy (from Harvard) whose last film won a ton of awards. What a bunch of wide eyed dreamers!

Donald Glover and Atlanta continued the new show wins many awards streak that Lena Dunham and Girls started (which was continued by Andy Samberg and Brooklyn 99). And in keeping with this grand Golden Globes tradition look for it to somehow never win another award no matter how good the show remains.

And finally, Brad Pitt is still really hot and beloved by his Hollywood peers. That is how you win a breakup despite losing custody of your children. Well played Mr. Pitt.

How to Pick the Right Dating App

Join these dating apps/websites if:

Bumble

If you enjoy swiping on the hottest, most beautiful people in the world while in no way expecting a match.

(Guy) It’s fun to know that women also suck at sending out messages.

(Girl) The thrill that comes with not receiving a sexist comment until the third message. Truly the enlightened casual dating app.

Tinder

If you enjoy basking in the intense judgement of others that comes after you say “so I met them on Tinder”.

Enjoying never knowing if you two are dating, quasi-dating, seeing each other, friends with benefits, or just you know hanging out and stuff, super casual.

You want to get really close to somebody, like spend every minute of every day with them only to have them never reply to any of your texts or calls out of the blue. Act now, the joys of ghosting can be yours!

JSwipe

You could always have your self-esteem significantly lowered.

Your hero is Norman Bates.

You’ve read all of Phillip Roth’s novels and thought that’s the guy for me.

Christian Mingle

You’re trying to find somebody who also thinks that screaming at women outside of a Planned Parenthood constitutes the perfect first date.

For the kinky Christian – it’s always a threesome because no matter who you date, you always date with our lord and savior, Jesus Christ.

Their “dating algorithm” is the only type of science you’re willing to believe in.

OkCupid

You like answering a million personality questions that will ultimately be ignored based on how hot you are.

(Girl): You enjoy being bombarded with countless messages and threats if god forbid you don’t reply within 30 seconds of receiving another shitty “sup” greeting.

Finding out how much of a mortal enemy you are with a stranger because you both had different answers to the question of which “shitty early thousands emo band are you?”

Match

Commercials always tell the truth and never exaggerate or lie!

Your life is passing you by very quickly and it’s about time you dragged somebody down with you.

Dating should be neither fun nor interesting at all.

eHarmony

You’re secretly super Christian (do a quick search I’m not joking about this one…the founder’s a goddamn crazy Christian).

Christian Mingle is for harlots and heretics. Give us something even more Christian (again look this shit up)!

You’re trying to go straight from being single and unhappy to being married and unhappy.