Author: Raul Rodriguez

I just finished reading a biography of Joni Mitchell, one of my favorite artists (She is a singer-songwriter and a painter). She had her moments of creativity-induced solitude. According to David Yaffe, the biography’s author, Joni loved Marilyn Monroe’s line from the movie The Misfits: “If I have to feel lonely, I’d rather be alone.” And then he quotes Joni: “I’ve covered a lot of [loneliness] on my records, I mean, I have expressed it almost like open letters . . . I need a lot of solitary time. Ideally, I would like to be able to withdraw into a corner in a room full of people and work. I love the bustle of a room of people interacting where perhaps I am apart but busy on my own project.” And she continues: “[…] in Los Angeles, I feel surrounded by people who are continually interacting, but the loneliness makes you feel like you’ve sinned, as Leonard Cohen said.” (Mr. Cohen and Joni were very good friends.)

Solitude can be wonderful when desired but detrimental when it’s imposed on us. I keep thinking of people living alone during this plague. When taking early walks along the Hudson River boardwalk I don’t mind being one of few around, and the only soul at the end of a pier. I cherish my alone time then, but I know I’m coming home to a husband. And a cat.

What’s your favorite Joni Mitchell song?

— New York City, 4/25/2020

B O N U S  Q U O T E: “There is only a certain amount of kindness in the world…just as there is a certain amount of light. We seem to cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things… Choose a place where you won’t do very much harm and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine.” — E. M. Forster

E N T E R T A I N M E N T  will be one of the last industries to reopen, at least in New York City. Not because music, theater, and dance are not essential; it has to do with congregation and proximity. Same with strip clubs. Brothels we don’t need to worry because the only state where prostitution is legal is Nevada. And they are currently closed.

I still keep an original handout of a 1978 BURLESQUE extravaganza in Argentina, at the peak of the military persecutions and disappearances. Not everything got censured by the Junta. Burlesque performers still populated the underground of Calle Corrientes, the main entertainment promenade, while above ground, students and activists were stripped of their liberties, their dignities, and their families.

Recently, after a long work day and having a cocktail, I asked John to google both Lady Karen and Silvana La Fox. What may have happened to them after 42 years? Unfortunately, no results came up. He tried unsuccessfully to add key words to the search: “bomba desnuda (naked bomb),” “vedette (showgirl),” “maravilla (wonder)”. N A D A. My heart sunk thinking that these artists who strip, dance, lick poles, and more importantly, make customers happy even if it is for one night, one moment of illicit bliss away from their excruciating work routines or away from their wives, are forgotten in some dark circle of Internet’s no woman’s land.

— West Village, 6/16/2020

A N G E R ,  D O R M A N T. Chronic racial inequality. Economical disparity. Police abuse in the name of “order.” Questionable marble heroes from the Civil War being toppled. Three words that resonate more than ever, now in a “yellow brick road” to the White House: BLACK LIVES MATTER.

I became a U.S. immigrant in 1982, a permanent resident in 1987, and a proud American citizen in 2009, swearing during Obama’s presidency. As a white Hispanic man, who happens to be gay, I felt discrimination at times, but nothing compared to what other minorities, visiting citizens of Muslim countries, and specially black Americans had to and still have to endure.

Racism has a long, painful history here. Take this scenario in Alabama, 1932, one year before Hitler became chancellor in Germany. The U.S. Public Health Service carried an experiment on 600 African-American males, half of them carrying syphilis. The 300 were intentionally left untreated to study the progress of the disease, but they were misinformed about the lack of treatment when they gave their consent. Even when penicillin became the drug of choice for syphilis in 1947, researchers did not offer it to any of the men. The study continued until 1972. In 1997, President Clinton offered a formal apology on behalf of the nation to the surviving widows and siblings of the victims. The study was “internally” called: “Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male.”

—Maplewood, NJ, 6/13/2020

“D E A R   R A Ú L, Yesterday was Day 100 since we had our first confirmed COVID case in New York State. And with New York City entering Phase 1, the entire state is in the reopening process. At the outset, no one knew how long it would take us to control the virus. But we did understand that it all depended on our actions. I’m so proud of how New Yorkers responded. Together we bent the curve. When things are tough, New Yorkers are tougher. That’s the New York way.”

I subscribe to Governor Cuomo’s e-news sent day after day to guide us through the health crisis that now is becoming a city crisis with so much looting and boarded up stores.

During unstable times like these, we welcome strong upper guidance, emotional and financial assistance, moral reassurance. And we, as individuals, respond with strength and discipline (I call that structure). I would add imagination to the formula: utilizing our creative energies as if the world had entered a virginal state and we have to start from zero. But it’s not zero. It’s 2020, a perfect cypher that cannot be spoiled that easily by an ugly, multipod viral nuisance. We shall triumph.

— West Village, still, 6/9/2020

(verbatim from a Mail Chimp e-mail
received on 5/18/2020, with dissolutions,
NOT desilusions, and my annotations and flourishes)

“C A L L   U S   O L D  –
F A S H I O N E D , but all of these newfangled [?] ways of figuring out when to plant your corn [corn or korn-gold?] or your kale [only for pesto!] or your cucumbers [looove ‘em!] seem to be making old wisdom sound like a new thing. We love a good app as much as the next person [?!?], but planting by the phases of the moon isn’t anything new. Gardeners and farmers have been doing it for ages. Best of all, it’s a fairly simple process. [that is, if you have the moon.]

Plant your annual flowers and vegetables that bear crops above ground during the light, or waxing of the moon — from the day the moon is new to the day it is full. Plant flowering bulbs, biennial and perennial flowers, and vegetables that bear crops below ground during the dark, or waning, of the moon — from the day after it is full to the day before it is new again. If you live in Area 3 (southern Canada and most of the northern U.S. except for the western half of Washington and Oregon), you can plant kale [again?] from May 15–31, but your most favorable days are May 22–31. [Hurry! Only 7 days left! What if I don’t like kale?]

If you want to learn more about how the moon influences agriculture here on Earth, [how about there on Mars?] plus a harvest of much more useful information, wit, and wisdom, [ . . . ]”

YOU can get it ALL and a bundle of BONUSES with a Strip-Tease® Almanac Cosmological Club Membership!” Please inquire soon! Offers like these don’t last a lifetime! And remember to stay safe!

— Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 5/25/2020

I ‘ M   S O   T H R I L L E D  that Mr. Guy Maddin, one of my all-time favorite film directors, not only liked the comment I made to his recent instagram, but responded at length. Times are tough now and people are trying to reinvent themselves to fit the plan. [Plan?!? what plan?!? Pls LMK when you got 1!]

Not sure if my husband knows —sometimes I keep secrets from him 😉 — that we own the dvd of Mr. Maddin’s Dracula, featuring the Royal Winnipeg Ballet dancing to a wild re-interpretation of the famous book cum movie, Stoker cum Browning in gorgeous semi monotone shots. The thrill doesn’t stop there! Maddin used one of my all-time favorite symphonies by a Mr. Mahler: his Second Symphony, trying to cram —in 80 to 90 minutes— the whole of Earth, Heaven, Inferno, Paradise, Limbo, and anything in between. Phew! No wonder Dr. Sacks and I had disagreements over Post-Romantic symphonic and operatic music! (I’m more forgiving of Mahler.)

So this is what Mr. Maddin said, verbatim, (I’m about to pee in my pants!): “@r.studio.t – I guess everything is for sale. Even my saggy sofa. Thanks for asking if I would sell that collage. [Mr. Maddin posted the image of an enigmatic collage featuring Kirk Douglas in memoriam] I might let all these [pieces] age in the tool shed to see if they get any better, then spread them out on a card table at a yard sale. I’m thinking about it. I’ll make an announcement here if the [tool] shed works! Thx tons!” T h x  t o n s ! ?!? OMG, I did pee indeed.

— Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 5/23/2020

W H E N   W E   A R E   F A C E D  with horror in the form of holocausts or plagues, something always comes to mind: “Blessed our loved ones who are no longer with us. They don’t have to witness these colossal tragedies.”

I think of my father, who died before 9/11. He loved New York and visited
me three times. He passed away in 2000, a few months before the destruction of his beloved Twin Towers (we ascended to the rooftop in 1993). I think of my friend the artist Mirtha Dermisache*, gone too soon, who insisted so much that I travel to New York in 1982. She even organized a raffle (we call it GoFund page now) to help finance my round trip—but I never went back! She would probably have been decimated by this plague, collapsing from ARDS, alone in her studio. She smoked. She succumbed to lung cancer in 2012.

I think of Dr. Sacks, who left us in 2015 having lived through the London blitz, 9/11, and Hurricane Sandy. Although in great company with his boyfriend Billy, would he have remained calm and stress-free sacrificing his swimming, his bike rides, his one-to-one patient visits? Would he have complied to zoom chat with Kate, his editor, instead of periodic visits? I think of George Gibson, John’s father, who bid us farewell one year before Oliver, in 2014. He served in the Korean War and not only survived the war but a divorce, his second wife’s battle with dementia, and the estrangement of his children (John was the only one to speak to him until he passed). Besides being a hardcore smoker, he never recovered from a long-time chronic depression. Would he have needed a plague to boot? At his funeral, John was given the folded U.S. flag that all veterans receive. It still adorns the top of our door as we exit.

— NYC, 5/19/2020

J E F F R E Y   K A T Z E N B E R G  hasn’t left his Beverly Hills mansion in more than 50 days. My sister, whom I adore, hasn’t left her 2-bedroom apartment in Buenos Aires for that long, either. Lockdown in Argentina is stricter than in California. You are allowed outside only if you are going to buy food (don’t forget a shopping tote bag), going to buy medications (carry a paper prescription or show the text from the pharmacy that your prescription is ready), going for “essential” exercise (don’t forget your sneakers and jogging pants), and walking your dog (don’t forget your dog in the house).

Susana lives alone, petless. Having a pet is a great passport now. She would go for more frequent walks if she owned a pooch. Plus she would get vitamin D intakes and shake up dormant muscles. Rudderless walking, alone or with your dog, is good for body and mind. It can help you organize thoughts, let new ideas flow in, and get inspired while you sweat away.

So Susana is ready to “rent” or foster a dog for the rest of the lockdown. Since the start of confinement, people have been adopting pets galore. Some animal shelters have emptied out. Susana’s friend Raymond, who lives in Minnesota and is a prolific poet, suggested that she baptizes her future dog Ernesto—for Hemingway, Borgnine, and Ernesto “Che” Guevara. Funny he mentioned that, I was just starting to read Oscar Wilde’s play The Importance of Being Earnest. How timely! Now that the name has been chosen, what kind of dog will she foster? What’s your favorite breed? Do you have a pet? How is he or she contributing even more to your well-being during the pandemic? Do you sing to your pet? Tengo una gata, así que de perros yo no sé.

— NYC, desolate meat packing district, 5/16/2020

D U E  T O  C O V I D – 1 9 , restaurants had to either close their doors “temporarily” or reinvent themselves as take-out joints. Third party apps are thriving these days, becoming agents, facilitators, filtering evils. I usually don’t have food apps in my phone but they seem necessary now. You log in > choose > order. If you get your meal delivered, you eat it at home and you hardly see the messenger who risked his life for you. If you pick it up, you wait outside the premises. No contact. Then the question is: Do you carry it back home or do you eat it on the go, as they say? If so, where?!? On a stoop?!?

I spent last weekend in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, house sitting for a friend. As I usually do when I’m in foreign territory —I have been to Williams-
burg probably four times in my 38 years in NYC— I like to explore, go with the flow. As Cat Stevens sings in The Wind: “Where I’ll end up where I think, only God really knows.”

It was unusually cold, I was hungry, and I had left my phone at home so I was app-less.When I found Shelter (Shelter in Place?) just a block away, I was delighted to see a bell, concierge style, ready for my finger to ring happily bypassing virtual intermediaries. I ordered a Negroni (delicious, albeit in a plastic cup) and two corn empanadas. Had to wait very little. Luck was on my side. Not wanting to go back to the apartment, I found a shelf nearby, anchored to the wall and painted bright red. That became my cocktail lounge. Let’s have more shelves like this all over the city for POST-COV® happy hours.

—Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY, 5/12/2020

I  J U S T   F I N I S H E D reading a biography of Joni Mitchell, one of my favorite artists (she is a singer-songwriter and a painter). Like most artists, she needs her moments of solitude. According to David Yaffe, the book’s author, Joni loved Marilyn Monroe’s line from the movie The Misfits: “If I have to feel lonely, I’d rather be alone.” And then he quotes Joni: “I’ve covered a lot of [loneliness] on my records . . . I need a lot of solitary time. Ideally, I would like to be able to withdraw into a corner in a room full of people and work. I love the bustle of a room of people interacting where perhaps I am apart but busy on my own project.” And she continues: “[…] in Los Angeles, I feel surrounded by people who are continually interacting, but desiring loneliness makes you feel like you’ve sinned, as Leonard Cohen said.” Mr. Cohen and Joni were very good friends. He died in 2016.

Desired solitude is quite different from imposed solitude. I worry about people living alone during this plague, so I phone them often. When taking early walks along the Hudson River boardwalk I am sometimes the only soul at the end of a pier. I cherish my alone time then, but I know I’m coming home to a husband. And a cat.

What’s your favorite Joni Mitchell song? I know which one is mine. If yours matches mine, you get a reward: an unpublished, uncut, posthumous STRIP-TEASE® mailed to you by USPS!

— New York City, 5/9/2020

“There is only
a certain amount
of kindness
in the world…
just as there is
a certain amount of
light. We seem
to cast a shadow on
something wherever
we stand, and it is no
good moving from
place to place to save things…
Choose a place where
you won’t do very much
harm and stand in it
for all you are worth,
facing the sunshine.”

— E. M. Forster