Evolution is defined as a process of development and diversification from previous forms, mostly simple to complex states of being, Darwinism applied to a broader spectrum of beings. That includes liberals, Millennials 😫, zealots with or without a sturdy platform, and even Susan Sarandon. Evolution tends to happen whether it’s wanted or not. It’s almost biological, like physical aging, an avalanche of lost energy and ability to exist in the bubble of hope. I’m almost two months away from being 48 yet I still feel like a teenager behind the Papa Hemingway mask. Guy on the street said I look like Steve McQueen the other day. That’s a first. Usually it’s Hemingway because if my white beard. I’ll take McQueen. Words mean a lot.
Juggling all my projects I rely on the technology I take for granted like everyone else. The computer and iPad and iPhone are my crutches. And there’s nothing wrong with crutches, crutches are there to help. Those who judge don’t matter and those who matter don’t judge. Snap! So don’t judge my crutches, even when I tell of the fucked up thing that happened on the way home last evening.
I was working in the Bryant Park/5th Ave realm of tourist-town central west when I suddenly felt like I needed an AA meeting. I’m only outing myself here so chill your tits on anonymity, I’m an open book, ask me anything. Mainlining Absinthe through a PVC pipe bong in the fast lane to nowhere in particular? Done it! I found on on the very tip of 8th Ave and 42nd Street, a LOVELY little stroll through Times Square with my computer bag, a Lacoste shirt clinging to the overheated hairs on my chest, and BIG hair to beat the humidity, a meeting at 4:30 p.m., which if you’re used to the 6-7-8 p.m. time slots seems a little queer. But I went with it. The meeting was in a small and windowless room with abject Renaissance program-centric decor, as if Cher had supervised during an Al-anon meeting whilst married to Greg Allman. The meeting was filled with about 12 people from all walks of life, real New Yorkers, the kind I like. The chair lady even said something: “if anyone wants to share just to get it over with” that made me feel at home. After the meeting I went down to 42nd street to a deluge of afternoon rain that had everyone relatively unfazed. If this was San Francisco everyone would be screaming as if the rain were melting them back to the hell from where they came. I’m weeeeeeeeet!!!!! I managed to get an Uber to head down to Chelsea but in my casual dash from stoop to Uber, way too cool to RUN in the rain, my computer bag got even more soaked than I did and in the process my iPad got water damage. It’s sitting in a bag of uncooked rice right now. Sucks, I know. And on top of that Google decided to delete 90 percent of my photos and emails with all my projects in my gmail this morning. It rains, it pours. Punny haha. Working on it all, damage control, putting out the fires, etc. The end of the world? No.
This brings me to the word CHANGE and the T-Shirt SHIT HAPPENS. I’m not the most flexible in my acceptance of unfortunate and inconvenient circumstance. But as I grow and learn from past time wasted I must admit that letting go of some things can be good for the cleansing of the soul. Sounds like California bullshit but really it’s very empowering to accept that something is or may be GONE and not letting facts fuck with the peaceful easy feeling that I’m so very entitled to. Can you dig the rose-tinted existential glasses from which I choose to look through? You can’t? Still screaming about your latte being extra fat instead of uber skinny? Well, all I can say with love in my heart is fuck you. I’m a New Yorker, no time for anything much less unacceptance. That’s the title of my forthcoming album by the way. The one where Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and Lindsay Lohan sing backup. Dropping next week unexpectedly.
Still upset about #abfabmovie. The more I think about it the more I must fight to keep the Patsy and Edina of the past fresh in my Rolodex of satirical splendor. Some things, I suppose were never meant to ride the evolutionary train of change. Some things, like the Upper East Side, should remain frozen in the time warp where they are most comfortable. Change isn’t comfortable. Although necessary, change wreaks havoc with retrospect.