Yesterday, I defended your freedom by looking silly. I look silly every day; but yesterday I used my silliness for good. Others were perhaps sillier, and clearly more talented than me. Before I get to that I’ll tell you my adventure as an eco-warrior. As happens to so many soldiers in wartime I did things I regret.
Jane has hired someone to help organize downsizing the house to prepare for moving and to make it look better to sell it. She got it into her head that we can’t have separate cans, one for paper and the other for metal, glass, and plastic. She said that in the trash room it’s all put together. I told her that it isn’t. That I’ve been using the trash room for years and there are two separate sets of cans, there has to be as by law they must be kept separate. Not only that but it damages the recycling machinery if you don’t sort them correctly. There was an article in the Times on the correct way to recycle just last week.
She insisted based on one trip to the trash room that I was wrong and that everything was mixed together. I argued vehemently, which is good, but made it personal, which is bad. She was wrong in many ways. She insisted she was right even though she obviously was not as familiar as we are with the trash room. She also didn’t care that it would damage the recycling commitment. She was willing to do that because in her mind having three cans would stop people from buying the house. I should have kept my calm, but she was pushing hot buttons for me, anti-environmental, insisting she’s right when she was wrong, and putting her needs before society’s.
She went to the trash room to prove that she was right. She came back and said nothing. I know it’s because she saw she was wrong. I didn’t say anything because as soon as she left I calmed down and apologized to Jane. The woman was doing something important for Jane and I should have been more diplomatic. I found out that after I left she admitted she was wrong. It’s not important for me to have her acknowledge it to me. That would just be for personal satisfaction, not the environment and might end up making trouble for Jane. That’s the last thing I want to do.
Now for the fun. Melissa organized another protest, “Sing the Nat’l Anthem @ Trump Tower – Flag Day – 45’s bday.” It was actually at the Trump International Hotel and Tower, at Columbus Circle. That’s convenient for me. It’s right by my PO Box, I picked up my mail. I have a new ritual; there’s an amazing donut place on the west side of 7th Ave just south of 58th Street; that’s where I get off the subway. When I do I stop by and get one of their heavenly doughnuts. As so often happens the unknown place is better than the places that are fads and have lines. I wish I knew the name. Next time I’m there I’ll take a picture, sing their praises in Yelp, Google, and Facebook, and tell you. You don’t have to wait, if you are near Carnegie Hall, stop by and get a doughnut.
We met by the globe on the plaza on the south side of the Hotel. There weren’t many people, the only ones I knew were Melissa and Dan. I had asked Dan to meet me there as we had something to do afterward. I know Melissa because she’s a violinist. She’s also an acro-yogi the inspiration for the protest. The other protesters were for the most part also yogis, not all acro. They were also mainly musicians. As we discovered you have to mime playing an instrument when you say that. Ronnie, look I’m learning names, asked Leigh if she were a musician and mimed playing the violin. She is but a cellist. When Dan came I said that he was a musician too and mimed playing the banjo.
A cop came over to us and asked if we were there for the protest. I thought he might mean the big protest about immigration, but no, he meant us. He knew we were singing the National Anthem. He was super nice, as were all the cops, but it’s a bit scary that he knew. It’s also flattering, we were big enough to get on the police radar. I was thinking that the police didn’t have the time and resources to check out every protest. It just hit me that the NYPD doesn’t, but the Secret Service and FBI do. The Facebook event was public, and the site listed as Trump International Hotel. Not difficult to flag any event at a Trump property. I’d like to think that I’m now on Trump’s enemy’s list as I indicated that I was going. Melissa, you’ll be higher on the list as the ringleader. Put it on your CV.
The nice cop said we couldn’t protest where we were as it’s private property, but we were free to do it on the sidewalk. The NYPD has been great to protesters since Trump was elected. I always feel that they are on our side. Maybe they are not, but they act like they are. The police should be on the side of people exercising their first amendment rights. Too often they haven’t been.
Then came the protest, singing the National Anthem while looking silly. Some people did yoga poses. One appropriately enough was The Flag. I am not as talented, or as limber, I kneeled and patted my head while rubbing my belly. Melissa stood on her head, while wearing an evening gown. She was playing in the pit of My Fair Lady at Lincoln Center a few blocks away. That worked well. Ronnie works in the neighborhood too. Fate was on our side. Dan took the video. This was the most fun I ever had protesting. If we do it again you should come. I have plenty of friends that are musicians and yogis and pretty much all my friends are silly.
After that Dan helped me with some practical matters, that’s why we met. We worked on my computer at Starbucks till my anxiety maxed out. That’s how it works. There’s only so much I can do. I extended the time with breathing exercises. They work but only to a point. I’m grateful to Dan for helping me so I accept that he said, “I realize that annoying you is one of my favorite things to do.” I realized that a long time ago. He does a good job of it. I never annoy Dan, I just mock his favorite bands and him and tell him who he should marry. He annoys me by not marrying them. That’s the only reason he doesn’t.
Today is therapy and the Sunset singing Circle. Come join me, 7 PM at Robert Wagner Junior Park at Battery Park City. I won’t be writing again until Sunday night or Monday morning as I’m going to Clearwater this weekend. Then I’ll have a lot to write about.
Wise Madness 