Here’s an idea for Valentine’s Day. Ball of Fire, a movie with the great Barbara Stanwyck with a screenplay by Billy Wilder. At BAM.

Celebrate Valentine

This afternoon at Lulu’s, the children’s hair salon and toy store on Fifth Avenue near Flatbush, where Daughter was getting a haircut, Sister was having her bangs trimmed, and Ducky was playing with a stroller and stuffed animals, I ran into Marybeth Batcha, publisher of One Story, which is a very ambitious, small-sized literary magazine with one story in it, published in Brooklyn 18 times a year.

I am a subscriber and it’s such a treat to get my copy of  One Story every three weeks or so in the mail. Mary Beth and I  decided that next winter there’s going to be a One Story reading at Brooklyn Reading Works. So stay tuned.

Take a look at the One Story site and think about subscribing to this Brooklyn-grown venture that is garnering quite a national reputation.

Speaking of stories, my good friend Nancy Graham has a piece of short fiction in this month’s Culture Star Reader. Nancy Graham’s poems have been published in Aught, Chronogram and Poetry Superhighway. Her fiction appears in the latest issue of Prima Materia, a literary annual of Hudson Valley writing. Her chapbook, SOMNILOQUIES, is forthcoming from Pudding House Publications. She lives with her husband and two children in Kingston, New York. The story is called Warm-Chair Attrition. Here’s an excerpt:

The young woman watches the man with the newspaper and wills him to say something shocking about himself.  This is the last day before she will pack the last of her things and fly to California, and find a job with help from her sister.  Her flight leaves two days from now.  The memos she will spend the day writing relate to her work.  Other people will pull them from a file and follow the directions in them, parceling her job into a dozen bits for others in her department-that way her leaving won’t cause turmoil in the company, and they won’t have to pay anyone to do her work after she’s gone.  The company has been getting smaller in this way, and the staff’s jobs incrementally larger, for five years. At the same time, the employees have worked more slowly and less efficiently, writing their memoirs on the sly, idly fingering their tickler files, or making sculptures of binder clips.  They have left their jobs in spirit but remain at their desks in body.  There are so many companies where this is happening that the companies have coined a name for it; they call the phenomenon ‘warm chair attrition.’ Read More in Culture Star Reader

In the same issue, there  is also an interview with one of Nancy’s mentors, Lydia Davis:

Q: How should a writer develop a unique voice?

Lydia Davis:  I would say there are a few things to think about.  One is what I said earlier, about being in absolute control of the mechanics of grammar, punctuation, sentence structure, so that you can do anything you like with your language.  (Look at Beckett’s later writings to see what odd things he does, which he couldn’t have done without that mastery.)  Then observe the world and yourself with a very careful, accurate eye.  Don’t say the water is blue if it’s actually a pinkish muddy color.  Bring those accurate observations into your fiction.  Don’t sentimentalize:  be honest and accurate about your feelings and thoughts.  And be open to different ways of writing.  Don’t be too cautious.  If you can aim towards all of that, you’ll probably develop your own distinctive voice and style.

Read More in Culture Star Reader.

Sister, Daughter, Ducky and I spent yesterday afternoon at the Atlantic Center. We were mostly at Target of course, which is its own vortex, its own reality, its own zone of consciousness.

I mostly hate malls but they are such a novelty in New York. And it’s easy to get out of them…you just walk out. Easy escape.

This mall, Ratner’s mall, isn’t too oppressive. It would be a total nothing, as far as I’m concerned, without the Target. But it does have the Guitar Center, Payless, Children’s Place, ah, that’s pretty much it. And the Chucky Cheese, which looms on the top floor is probably one of the weirdest, scariest, noisiest children’s "attractions" I’ve ever seen.

But Target is pretty fun for a limited amount of time. If you stay to long you start hallucinating: Red spirals, red spirals, red spirals.

No surprise, my daughter loves to buy her clothing there. It’s so well priced: she gets to be the fashionable princess she wants to be and I don’t have to spend too much money. Though all those $7.99 items do add up and it’s always a shock when I see the total at the cash register.

YOWZA. How did we spend….?

We actually got lattes at the Starbucks near the check-out and sat in the seating area for an hour or so. I discoved that there’s great view from that side of Target of the Atlantic Yards. It’s a really interesting spot to contemplate the future of Brooklyn.

Walking back to the slope via FIfth Avenue, I was surpised by how many new shops have gone in from Flatbush to Sterling. It happened so quickly. There’s a bunch of boutiques, Lulu’s, Area (a clothing store for kids), that gorgeous Indian clothing store, Pawtisserie (bakery for dogs!?), SIP ( a new wine shop), Miriam (a middle eastern restaurant)…

The owner of Lulu’s said that her stretch of Fifth Avenue near Flatbush is fantastic for business. She said the people come there from Ft. Greene, Prospect Heights, the Heights, Cobble HIll, Smith Street. Her old location on Fifth near 3rd Street was good but very local. There were few walk-ins and not much weekday traffic. She said no one who lives above 7th Avenue ever comes to Fifth Avenue.  I wonder if she’s right about that.

When we got home, Son said that he was hanging out at the Atlantic Center, which really surprised me. WHAT WERE YOU DOING THERE? He didn’t say. I DIDN’T BRING HIM UP IN PARK SLOPE TO BE A MALL RAT!

But then again: What the hell were we doing at Target all afternoon?

The New York City Public Schools adopted a new schedule today. Classes now commence at 8:40 a.m. instead of 8:30. School is out at 3:00 p.m. There will be special tutoring for children in academic need until 3:37 and a half.

Those extra ten minutes are like a godsend. We usually get to school about ten minutes late so…

It’s a gift really. Classes start at 8:40 rather than 8:30. Woo hoo. YAY. The trick is not to think about it too much. We’re just going to pretend it’s the same old schedule. Get up at the same time, make lunch, have some cereal, pack the backpacks, leave the house…

That way, we’ll be on time. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Just put the new start time out of our heads. Pretend it’s the same old schedule (it’s 8:30, really it’s 8:30, really it’s 8:30…)

Daughter, the impeccably fashionable one,  had extra time to preen. She put on an interesting combination of her new clothing from Target. The black and white spotted pants, the t-shirt that says, "YOU CAN KEEP MY BROTHER," the green camouflage jacket.

"That’s quite an outfit you’ve got on today," her brother  told her. "I like your Dalmatian print pants." he added..
"They’re not Dalmatian print pants." she replied.
"Then what are they?" he asked.
"I don’t know. STOP BOTHERING ME." she said.
"Oh I know," he said. "They’re leopard spot. You’re wearing leopard spot pants. Nice with the green camouflage."

Unfazed, she continued to brush her hair. "No one’s going to be able to see you today," Husband said, referring to her animal and camouflage prints."

Luckily, Daughter has an unflappable sense of style.

Check out a blog called The Muk Report. The guy has designed some funny Park Slope T-shirts.

How Many of These Could I Move at 7th and Union?

I think plenty.  They’re pretty funny.

A good friend of mine is now working for Project Reach Youth. She asked me to spread the word that this very worthwhile local organization is looking for volunteers.

Here’s the scoop:

Project Reach Youth (PRY) is a community-based organization committed to helping low-income youth, adults and families to learn and grow in a creative and supportive environment. They have a range of programs and rely on volunteers for academic support, particularly with teen programs. Current needs include:-

–Adults to work with our teens in our after-school programs. In Fort Greene, the STAR Program helps prepare juniors and seniors for college – tutors are always needed to help these kids prepare for their SAT’s and Regents’. The hours are after-school and Saturdays. The STAR Program also provides support during the school day at the LJR school in Park Slope.

–Adults who can help kids in the college office.

–Help with the Project Life program, aimed at helping kids ages 13 -17 to offer good life choices; these kids need homework help as well.

–Help with a Saturday program in Park Slope for immigrant adults preparing for the citizenship exam. Volunteers work one-on-one with the students to help them practice for the test and practice conversational English.

— Help with after-school programs for elementary school-aged kids

For more information, you can go to: www.pry.org. You can also send me an an e-mail (louisecrawford@gmail.com), if you’d like me to send it directly to my friend.

There could not have been a better place to hear Michael Drinkard read from the first chapter of his new novel,  "Rebels, Turn Out Your Dead," than at the Old Stone House, a revolutionary war museum in JJ Byrne Park on Fifth Avenue in Park Slope.

What started out as a Brooklyn Reading Works reading evolved into an elegant book party bash thrown by the author and his wife.

In his introduction, Michael graciously thanked Kim Maier, Executive Director of the Old Sone House, and me. He told the crowd about Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn and mentioned that the blog’s name comes from the title of Thomas Wolfe story:"Only the Dead Know Brooklyn."

"Rebel Bring Out Your Dead " is the story of a hemp farmer and his wife and son who get caught int he crossfire of the Revolutionary War. Here is the description from Amazon:

In his cannabis-infused pipe dreams, Salt imagines himself a man of
independent means, rather than a Yankee hemp farmer under the thumb of
his Tory father-in-law. Then Salt’s teenage son shoots a British
officer, and the Revolutionary War comes home, bringing both danger and
unexpected freedoms.

Forced to flee his farm and family, Salt
is taken captive on a prison ship off the shore of Brooklyn, where he
finds himself in unplanned pursuit of something that might just be
happiness. With her husband on this odyssey, Molly embarks upon her own
war of independence, from the chronic disappointments and
long-rehearsed roles of marriage. And under the unlikely wing of the
British army, son James begins to come of age along with his country.

Drinkard has crafted a work of historic fiction, whose characters are drawn with depth and a contemporary interest in their inner lives and struggles.

I’ve only heard the first chapter, but I plan to get a copy of the book and read it soon. 40 Copies of the book sold last night at the party. Some people bought more than one.

The party was quite the Park Slope event. I saw many friends there, as well as writerly types from Manhattan who I don’t know. Blogger, Ron Hogan of  Beatrice.com was there. We spoke a bit about the blogsphere and I look forward to reading his literary blog in the future. I learned from a quick look at his blog that he is the author of "The Stewardess is Flying the Plane; American Films of the 1970’s," which was selected by Amazon as one of Top Ten Editor’s Picks: Pop Culture for 2005.

Stone Park Cafe was too packed for dinner. But at Belleville, many tables were filled with the after party revellers.

My sister told me about Focusing Into Sleep, workshops for those who have sleep problems (who doesn’t these days?).

These workshops, run by Manhattan psyhotherapists, Susan Rudnick and Robin Kappy,  are for those who experience problems with falling asleep, restless waking during the night, or just want to fall asleep in a more peaceful way.

Sounds nice. Speaking of sleep problems, did I mention that I am typing this at 2:10 in the morning?

"The workshop guides people to draw on the well of wisdom that already resides within them to create better sleep patterns. Participants develop skills for moving into deeper levels of rest through visualization, self-hypnosis, and a therapeutic technique called ‘focusing.’

The workshops, which are at the 92nd Street Y and the 14th Street Y, are led by two certified focusing trainers. Here’s the info:

The 92nd Street Y
1395 Lexington Avenue
Three Thrusday Evenings: Feb 9, Feb 16, Feb 23, 2006
7 p.m. – 9 p.m.
Registration (212) 415-5500
Price: $90. for the three session workshop

The 14th Street Y
344 East 14th Street, New York, NY
Three Thursday Evenings: March 9, 16, 23, 2006
Registration: (212)780-0800
Price: $75 for the three session workshop

Consultations are also available. For information contact: Focusingintosleep@verizon.net, haikususan@aol.com or rkappy.csw@verizon.net

Continue reading FOCUSING INTO SLEEP →

The author of "The Feminine Mystique" died yesterday. This is from the New York Times:

Betty Friedan, the feminist crusader and author whose searing first book, "The Feminine Mystique," ignited the contemporary women’s movement in 1963 and as a result permanently transformed the social fabric of the United States and countries around the world, died yesterday, her 85th birthday, at her home in Washington.

Betty Friedan, a founder of the National Organization for Women, led a march in Manhattan in 1970 for the Women’s Strike for Equality.The cause was congestive heart failure, said Emily Bazelon, a family spokeswoman.

With its impassioned yet clear-eyed analysis of the issues that affected women’s lives in the decades after World War II

Here is a post from this day last year. I actually wrote it when a guy in Yugoslavia asked me to be a guest blogger. I liked it an posted it on Third Street, as well. I don’t post much on that blog anymore. But Smartmom, Hepcat, Teen Spirit, and the Oh So Fiesty One are alive and well in my weekly column in the Brooklyn Papers. Out every Friday, the paper is available all over Brooklyn (at Key Food and other supermarkets, the Ninth Street YMCA, and elsewhere in Park Slope).

Today is the anniversary of Smartmom’s parents. February 3rd. The date
is etched in her mind. She and her sister would go to the same gift
shop year after year to buy an anniversary gift for them. West Town
House smelled of bath soap and sachet. It was just a block and a half
from the Riverside Drive apartment. They’d browse for an hour or more.
And with only four dollars, they’d find something to buy: a stone paper
weight or a letter opener, which the owner would gift wrap in green
paper and a black ribbon bow.

Smartom’s parents aren’t married
anymore. They’ve been separated since 1976. But February 3rd still
stops her short. And while they’ve been separated for longer than they
were together, February 3rd means only one thing: the beginning of
something that later came to an end.

Manhattan Granny showed
OSFO her wedding album a few weeks ago. A large, white, leather-bound
book, the black and white photographs present Smartmom’s parents on
their ceremonial day. In a simple and elegant, calf-length gown, Groovy
Grandma looks like Audrey Hepburn; her hair is close-cropped like
Hepburn’s too.

Groovy Grandpa, with no trace of the beard that
would later define him, looks pleased with himself and his bride. Their
parents gather around them

A friend in Beverley Square West is having a stoop sale on Saturday. She sold the house a few months ago and has been living in Vermont for the last few years; one of the people who actually left Brooklyn for greener pastures. She has interesting stuff and if you're in the market for some furnture, it might be worth it to check out the sale and take a look at this interesting and historic neighborhood on the other side of Prospect Park.

One antique wooden glass cabinet with three shelves, petite scale,  but
pretty nice delicate detail."

House Sale: 242 Marlborough Road. Brooklyn, NY

.

It’d Take a Guy a Lifetime…from OTBKB JANUARY 31, 2005:

Curious about the name of this new blog. Here’s an excerpt from
Thomas Woolfe’s masterful short story called: "Only the Dead Know
Brooklyn" written in thick Brooklynese:

Dere’s no guy livin’ dat knows Brooklyn t’roo an t’roo, because it’d
take a guy a lifetime just to find his way aroun’ duh goddam town.

"So like I say, I’m waitin’ for my train t’ come when I sees dis big
guy standin’ deh — dis is the foist I eveh see of him. Well, he’s
lookin’ wild, y’know, an’ I can see dat he’s had plenty, but still he’s
holdin’ it; he talks good an’ is walkin’ straight enough. So den, dis
big guy steps up to a little guy dat’s standin’ deh, an’ says, ‘How
d’yuh get t’ Eighteent’ Avenoo an Sixty-sevent’ Street?’ he says…"

and

"Jesus! What a nut he was! I wondeh what evah happened to ‘m,
anyway. I wondeh if someone knocked him on duh head, or if he’s till
wanderin’ aroun’ in duh subway in duh middle of duh night with his
little map! Duh poor guy. Say, I’ve got to laugh, at dat, when I t’ink
about him! Maybe he’s found out by now dat he’ll never live long
enought to know duh whole of Brooklyn. It’d take a guy a lifetime to
Brooklyn t’roo an’ t’roo. An even den, yuh wouldn’t know it all."

A Brooklyn Life has this story about the new Whole Foods at Third Avenue and 3rd Street.

Brooklyn Papers
is reporting that the construction of Whole Foods at 3rd Avenue and 3rd
Street in Gowanus/Park Slope has been delayed–again–by the slow
removal of toxic gasoline storage tanks. Looks like they won’t be outta
there until March. The paper also delves into a bit of the site’s
glorious industrial history:

Going back to the 19th century, the land had hosted a lake, a coal yard,
an oil-processing company and a radiator manufacturer. Oh, and it was
also a junkyard at one point. Since excavation began in the fall, a lake
of green water has overtaken the site, a consequence of digging below the water
table…

READ MORE AT A BROOKLYN LIFE

        Pioneering video artist Nam June Paik passed away yesterday. This from Boing Boing.

"The future is now." –N.J.P. (1932-2006)

Link


      

Cool and Unusual played Southpaw on Sunday, the Slope’s groovy indie rock club
on Fifth Avenue. It was a first for all the teen bands that played. A real rock club. Woo. A great sound system. Woo hoo. A big place with
room to dance. Woo hoo hoo.

No one danced. The kids hung out near the stage and moved along to the music, screamed, yelled, hooted, and cheered after songs.

Cool and Unusual played one of their best sets ever. Their patter was pretty great: "Chinese New Year’s resolution: That we won’t suck." Sadly, they are
taking a one month hiatus. Luckily February is a short month. As
the bass player’s mother, I am sorry that they won’t be playing for a
few weeks because the improvement has been so consistent, and they are
getting so tight, so good. But they have their reasons. I for one will miss hearing their original songs like "Snow Song," "Retrospect," "2L,"Cheerful Infinity," "The Test," as well as their Arcade Fire medley.

But nobody listens to mom. They will, hopefully, be back in the swing of things in March.

Mod Rocket, an all-girls punk band from Manhattan was incredible, too. It’s hard to believe they are just 15-years-olds. The lead singer can really sing and all the others are amazing musician,  too. I just found their list of their influences on their web site:

Bowie, The Stooges, Velvet Underground, MC5, Joy Division, Nine Inch Nails, Ramones, T Rex, Sonic Youth, Siouxsie, Jesus and Mary Chain, Pigface, Suicide, Big Black, Skinny Puppy, Bjork, Nirvana, Cream, New York Dolls, Patti Smith, Lenny Kaye, Radiohead, My Bloody Valentine, Smashing Pumpkins, The Jam, The Clash, Black Sabbath, The Cure, Television, The Smiths, Legendary Pink Dots, The Swans, Teenage Jesus And The Jerks, Lydia Lunch, The Who, The Damned,Gang Of Four, Black Flag, Minor Threat, Fugazi, Depeche Mode, Bob Dylan, Thin Lizzy, PJ Harvey, The Cars, White Stripes, Talking Heads, New Order, Adam Ant, KMFDM, Bauhaus, Sisters Of Mercy, Alien Sex Fiend, Rozz Williams, Christian Death, Alice Cooper, The Byrds, The Doors, Big Star, Janes Addiction, Butthole Surfers, Stones, Mudhoney, Melvins, Manson, Interpol, Velvet Acid Christ, Throbbing Gristle, Slint, Slayer, The Cramps, The Beatles, Misfits, Neil Young, Zeppelin, Sleater Kinney, Pavement, Malkmus, Iggy Pop, Echo And The Bunnymen, Bikini Kill, Jefferson Airplane, Kraftwerk, Fantomas, Tomhawk, Lords Of The New Church, AC/DC, KISS, Pink Floyd, Killing Joke, Tool, A Perfect Circle, EinstÃ

Monday morning and the mystery of whether that is Mary on the flap of Paul Auster’s new book has finally been solved. It’s her, it’s her, it’s her. I can tell this is going to be a great week. Here’s the missive from Mary.

I finally bought "Brooklyn Follies."  It ISN’T me holding the beach ball on the front cover because, as Austin Powers would say, "That’s a MAN, baby." (In addition to be much photographed throughout my life, I have been mistaken several times for a man in real life. Seriously. Despite lipstick.)

However, if you look at the back flap, (near the author’s portrait) there is a woman in a black jacket and light jeans. And I am 99 percent certain it’s me.

I bought the book at Seventh Avenue Books and told the owner as he rang it up that I thought I was on the flap. He looked and agreed it might be me. He then asked for $25.07. I gave him $26.00 and said I didn’t have any change. He said, "Well, seeing as I’m running out of change and you are a celebrity, I won’t charge you the seven cents."

So, being on the Auster back flap is paying off all ready. If I carry the book around with me, will I get free drinks at local establishments? Perhaps Second Street Cafe will give me a half-priced coffee.

At home, I took out a magnifying glass. Under magnification, I still think it is me. And my husband and four-year-old think so too. My 2-year-old also has declared, "That’s Mama." Unfortunately she was pointing to the photo of Paul Auster. "That’s a man, baby!"

I need to get a copy of Paul Auster’s "Brooklyn Follies" to my friend Mary because I think she is pictured on the cover. I saw her yesterday at Maggie Moo’s and asked her if it’s her on the cover. She didn’t know a thing about it. I told her that I’d posted about it a few weeks back.

I loved that you stopped in at Maggie Moo’s to tell me about the Brooklyn Follies cover. The kids were running in too many circles from their ice cream high for me to focus on what you were saying. Now that I’ve read your post, I’m blushing. Thanks for calling me "very nice" (in the post).

Still, Mary isn’t sure whether it’s her picture on the cover. Oddly and coincidentally, she’d had her picture taken for Time Out Magazine on the same Second Street corner and she thought that was what I was talking about. Who knew about her busy modeling career.

As far as the photo on the Auster cover goes–it wasn’t the one I thought it was. The one I told you about that was taken on the 2nd street corner was taken of me and my husband and supposedly appeared in Time Out–although I didn’t follow the issues closely enough to see it. And I wasn’t carrying a beach ball as "I" am on the Auster cover-but my husband was carrying a huge bag of brickettes.  I haven’t been able to run out to the bookstore to scrutinize the Auster cover tonight. Looking at a close up view on Amazon has been inconclusive. I have to say, it does appear to be me!

I am also pretty sure that it’s Mary. I assumed she knew about it and had signed a release or something. The fact that she was unaware of the picture being taken adds another element to the story. I thought it was particularly interesting because Mary is a writer (she and I met in Tim Tomlinson’s fiction writing course at the Writer’s Voice). Since she moved to Park Slope a few years back, we’ve had regular chitchats about writing, children, work, and other Park Slope-ish matters.

I’ve always wanted to write an essay about the strange places your image could appear without your knowledge (think of those group photos taken in restaurants–with your table in the background.) Once, when I was dining at Ellen’s Stardust with a friend, the waiter (whom I had never seen before) said "What will it be, Stacey and Mary?" After we completely freaked that he knew our names, he said he recognized us from a photo he saw in Chicago when he was staying with a friend of his–who was also a close friend of ours–who mentioned (I guess several times–since he remembered them) our names.

The oft-photographed Mary is going to let me know soon if it’s her on the cover. But even if it’s not, she’s still a big deal in my book. In addition to the care and feeding of two kids, she writes daily at the Park Slope Writer’s Space and has a story coming out later this year in a webzine.

I’ll let you know what I think after I see the real cover! And, thanks for asking, my story is coming out in a 2006 issue of Paper Street. (A small lit mag based in Pittsburgh).

I am quite smitten with the just-out CD from Cat Power, "The Greatest." Cat Power is the performing name of the critically raved about Chan Marshall. I was expecting a more raucous album — it’s called Cat Power, afterall.  Instead, it’s an ambient, moody, slow-speed and eclectic voice-piano-strings soundscape with songs that convey the poetic wisdom of a love-worn life.

Marshall has a endearing world-weariness that calls to mind a low-energy Lucinda Williams with a little Memphis R&B and shoo bop thrown in for good measure.

Check it out. Sound Track and Music Matters has it in stock.