wild bore

Hasta la vista, babies

2009-01-13T22:42:00.011-05:00

Well, Its been a long, long time since I updated the old WildBore. Needless to say, life has been a bit a slog here in the rotten, er, big apple. I can't think of a better nerve center in which to reside if one has massive amounts of coin, but for me, the upcoming evacuation has a lot more to do with community. I vacillate from disappointment I couldn't make a better go of it and incredulity regarding the expectations of what it means to have a "good life" and how insanely short of this threshold my existence here in the city has been. I gotta say, even though I gave it a whirl, I can't live like I have been, which has been a downward spiral in my standard of living (it should also go without saying, I'm no princess ha-ha).

On one hand, living here is like being tempted with everything our culture has to offer, in terms of access and synergy. I look out my window in LIC (see previous post) and see the glittering skyline of Manhattan, and often have meetings and events taking place there, a lot of associates, flitting in and out with some sense of connection. Yet, I feel absolutely no REAL connection whatsoever. I joke around with friend—it's like having a steak waved in front of your face as you're starving. I feel like a tourist (albeit one who has no life outside of work and trying to get by).

It sucks, frankly.

I have also described this state of emotion to friends as being "loneliness plugged into an amplifier." I never felt poor before I moved here, or lonely for that matter, but NYC is a cold place for a midwestern creature like me.

Recently I watched the Wizard of Oz for the first time in about a zillion years and practically wept as a result of its maudlin theme.

(much more later on the next chapter. In the meantime, I'm off to San Francisco to descimate the dregs of my bank account and credit).

My brother was married this fall and I'm cooking up a Mediterranean banquet for that, as well as spending some time on Inauguration DAY—figuring out what's next and obvs catching up with friends for a bit of partying.

Despite the bleak landscape (I'm referring to the relocation to Michigan) I hold out a lot of hope for the future, which is a nice relief from the last 8 years of devolution. (UNDERSTATEMENT!!!)

View from the roof...

2007-11-01T18:31:00.000-05:00

I know, oh loyal readers (ha!) I haven't put anything up in a while. Suffice it to say this place has it's ups and downs to be sure, but sitting on the roof of my building can be pretty awesome.

A well-deserved update...

2007-06-21T11:09:00.000-05:00

Greetings folks...I know it's been a while, so I have popped up to let people know where I have landed, sort of.

I think I left off when I went to South x Southwest in March, where I had the luxury of a 5-night hotel stay after various stints in couch-surfing in NY and Michigan. Tried to sell the ol' boat, which was looking hopeful, but the folks bailed on me...a pretty depressing cashflow setback. Much has happened since then.

I spent some time in Florida helping my aunt who had knee replacement surgery, then bounced up to NYC and into the new apartment in Long Island City, Queens.

Truthfully, NYC has been kicking my ass, and this move has been very tough. As we speak, I am back in my Ann Arbor apartment, packing up my stuff (or procrastinating the packing of my stuff). I'm having a garage sale this weekend, which will most likely be a wrenching ordeal.

Not. Looking. Forward. To. That.

I share the place in LIC with two guys in their 20s, both of them great and interesting, yet somehow I feel quite unnerved by my circumstances there. I have had none of my belongings there, beyond some pots and pans and clothing...the emptying of my house in Ann Arbor, as well as the aforementioned non-boat sale, have been dangling over my head like the sword of Damacles. Thus, I find myself here, trying to keep up with my workload in NY but at the same time wrestling with the horror of packing and deciding what I can and can't take to the new place, which is most likely temporary (until next May or so). Then I need to find a place of my own to keep my own sanity.

I could list a few funny anecdotes about the ongoing drumbeat of lowering expectations in my standard of living in NYC (i.e.: my bedroom is next to an elevated 7 train which roars 24/7, I can't have my dog there so he is living with relatives, no decent grocery stores, my favorite restaurant trying to pass off tilapia as striped bass, etc.) but these amusing tales will have to wait until I shed my past life, which is still paralyzing me in my efforts to trade in the comfort of my old existence to one of vitality in my new life.

In short, change is a bitch, y'all.

For those of you I haven't contacted in a while, this situation is what is consuming me, I promise I haven't just been ignoring you...it's just hard to put on a pleasant face these days.

Home for 5 days...

2007-03-14T12:52:00.000-05:00

No, I didn't find an apartment, but I am, for the moment, a conventioneer in Austin, Texas with my very own hotel room. It is the first place I have slept in the same bed for 5 nights in a row since the end of February...what a luxury.

We're down here for the annual music orgy of schmooze/booze/shows known as South by Southwest...1,500 bands, tacos for breakfast, BBQ for dinner... Don't know that I will be checking in too often this week ;-)

"My, she was Yar..."

2007-03-08T10:16:00.000-05:00

I've taken a break from the apartment search for a few weeks. I'm in Detroit for the next 3 days preparing my boat for sale (sigh). I think parting with it is one of the hardest things about leaving Michigan, but there is NO way to haul her out to NY and keep her there...even if I gave up the apartment hunt and lived in it, in dry dock.

So, I need to see if the ice sarcophagus has dwindled to the point where I can get in and do a thorough inventory, get my stuff out and prep her for her travels (hopefully) to Durango, Colordao. The couple who are interested in purchasing her saw my only listing online, and I guess they know that a near-pristine 1976 Islander (designed by Robert Perry) is not easy to come by. Actually, I was quite pleasantly surprised at how many people wrote me about the boat and are interested in buying it, but these folks seem quite serious, so they are first in line.

Man, I had some great times on this boat. Bon Voyage, lovely Swallow...

Maybe I should shack up...

2007-03-01T12:16:00.000-05:00

Suddenly it occurred to me that although I know many single people in the city, most of them have a live-in partner. Perhaps I've been too picky all these years.

How 'bout it guys, any takers?

No tickee, no raundry...

2007-02-28T15:05:00.000-05:00

Someone sent me a Craig's listing of an "immaculate" 1 bedroom apartment on the lower east side, so I decided to check it out.

It was in the low, low east side—deeply Chinese, which is cool.

I checked out the place, it was pretty big, but seemed like it could have been Dick Cheney's undisclosed location...flourescent bulbs, ugh. Narrow, one tiny window in the entire place. I said I would think about it.

I walked through the neighborhood, which was extremely exotic to me, and tried to picture myself living there. Plus side? Lot's of restaurants and weird groceries. Close enough to walk to our office on Chrystie Street (albeit a long walk).

On the negative side, I didn't see a single pet. So I decided to pass. I didn't want Frankie to live in fear that he would end up on a pu-pu platter somewhere down there.

"Wow, nice coat! What is that, Golden Retriever?"

2007-02-26T12:27:00.000-05:00

When I first got to the city, I was looking at the possibilities uptown (Harlem, Washington Hts. Upper West Side) as well as Brooklyn, but as the month has progressed and I have realized what a monumental task this is, I decided to narrow my focus to Brooklyn. It seems I am priced out of all the places I would like to live (Ft. Green, Cobble Hill, Park Slope) and being that I have lasered in on the F-train line, I decided to take a stab at a neighborhood I am not familiar with and that is off of the J-line (which I don't know at all).

Saturday I was up for such an adventure, so I thought I'd look at some more modestly-priced neighborhoods and I thought, "Why not Bushwick?"

Why indeed. This is a question I can answer definitively at this point. Because Bushwick sucks. In fact, if I wanted to live in Bushwick, I could save about $1000 per month and live in East Dearborn.

I had a nice tour around the neighborhood though. Took one subway stop too far, so as I wandered past the liquor stores and laundrymats I had to ask directions to the street I was looking for. A nice man with golden teeth and a fur coat which looked alarmingly canine in origin pointed me in the right direction. His clingy companion eyed me with a suspicious dagger-like stare.

I found the address...new construction on a treeless boulevard. I didn't take the interior tour.

Spite, Brooklyn style...

2007-02-25T20:05:00.000-05:00

I have been somewhat mystified by NYC landlord paranoia...UNTIL TODAY.

I've been a landlord for years and have operated on a hearty handshake and "hale fellows well met" kind of vibe for years in Ann Arbor.

I DID have a short term horrific deal with a compulsive liar who wormed his way into my rental unit, but all it took to nip that in the bud was to find his mommy and daddy. It was over very quickly, very cleanly.

In any event, today I went to see a "garden apartment in Park Slope." New bathroom, large apartment, $1,975.00 per month. A big stretch financially, to be sure.

So I take the subway (my beloved and somewhat OCD-centric F train) to the address on 4th Avenue in "Park Slope."

"Hmmmm, why, this seems a bit like Warren Avenue in Detroit" I think to myself. There is a fenced in vacant lot next door strewn with garbage, a tire shop across the street called "Rim Job" and a rather shabby exterior. "Oh well, maybe it's nice inside." heh-heh.

I call the landlord, Joe (pronounced "d-Jow" for those not used to the Brooklyn flav).

He shows up, super nice guy. There is a yellow form on the front door which I didn't deem fit to read before he got there. He rips it off the door with a flourish and says, "it's the city sniffin' money." Then he gets out his keys so we can take a look at the apartment.

Unfortunately, something seems to be wrong with the locks.

"There is a key broken off in the lock!" he tells me. "I can get in from the upstairs apartment."

He dutifully goes up and bangs on the upstairs flat. I wait in the wrought-iron vestibule below.

DJow opens the front door and I enter. Apartment #1 (the "garden apartment") has two locks. Both have broken keys in them.

"I evicted the guy this weekend," Joe explains. "He's a hairdresser, works with celebrities, but then he got hooked up wit dah drugs."

I hear the sound of running water as dJow works on the locks.

Eventually the locks give way and we get in. The crackhead hairdresser who was evicted has stolen every lightbulb in the place. He has stolen all the parts of the stove. He has locked the "newly remodeled" bathroom and left the water running for two days. The "garden" out back is a cement slab covered with piles of dogshit. There are piles of garbage and junk everywhere and holes in the wall as well. (not that it was any great shakes to begin with).

But the highlight of the situation: an 2'x2' oil painting of a gaping asshole, left for "dJow," on top of one of the many piles of garbage in the middle of the room. A "fuck you" amidst a sea of fuck yous.

Poor Joe just had to laugh, but I know he was embarrassed and mad, and trying to keep good humor. I really sympathized with the dude.

I wished him luck and left.

I think I'm in love with the Dumpling Man™

2007-02-25T18:49:00.000-05:00

"Paralyzed, flat on my back" (to quote Gang of Four)

Apartment hunting is "hard werk" to quote the C- Augustus.

...thank Jeebus I am currently within the tiny grid of a delivery zone for The Dumpling Man. Cash only baby.

vid here: http://www.dumplingman.com/video/video_1_QT.mov

"What sign would you like me to be?"

2007-02-25T16:49:00.000-05:00

So, I'm waiting to hear back from my only solid apartment lead...in Windsor Terrace near Prospect Park. WT is a neighborhood without a lot of night life, yet pretty affordable in contrast to some livlier Brooklyn spots like Park Slope, Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens (I have a few strories about all those places). Also on the F Train line, which is really convenient since our office is on the lower east side.

The apartment by NY standards is HUGE. It's in an owner-occupied limestone building, about a block from the park. The Realtor really seemed to like me and set me up to meet the landlord—a painter, she told me.

I'm thinking, GREAT. I love Bohemian types, these are my people.

This was a naive notion born of midwestern ignorance of the NY landlord paranoia that plagues EVERY situation I have come across so far, a paranoia I have found to be sensible under the circumstances (see upcoming Park Slope "Garden" apartment reference).

I go to meet the landlord in Windsor Terrace. She is very guarded and not overly friendly, but pleasant. I compliment one of her paintings in the front hall. Immediately she tells me it is from about "ten years ago" and I am ushered into her apartment to the smell of insence and a nightmare gallery of Dali-esque, saggy-titted, sallow-faced portraits that compose her more current work. She has four cats.

We make a little chit-chat...she is not only a painter but an art-therapist social worker in one of the 5 boroughs. We talk about house restoration, I mention that I am a landlord myself in Ann Arbor, I mention my age, then she sees her opening..."What is your sign?" she asks.

"Sagitarrius," I reply, (I can see the wheels turning).

"I'm a Virgo," she replies. By the tone of her voice I can tell I may have made a fatal error.

We chit-chat some more, then I zoom back to the LES on the F train so I can furiously google the compatibility of Virgo-Sagitarrius. It does not look good.

Despite this possible pitfall, she requests I bring my dog out to meet her. So my sis drives in from the farm (where Frankie is living until I get a permanent place), and we go back to present him for her approval. This was a week ago Monday...I don't hold out a lot of hope on this one.

Did I mention I've moved?

2007-02-25T12:48:00.000-05:00

I decided to revive the old Wild Bore...I recently decided to pack and move to NYC. Right now I'm posting on low batteries at some coffee shop in Park Slope, following a disasterous segment of the ongoing drama called "looking for a permanent apartment."

Here's a picture of my current (temporary) digs in the East Village. I took over the end of a lease of a friend at MTV and am to be out on Tuesday, so I have to get cracking on finding a new spot. I'll regale you with a few choice tales of New York/Brooklyn landlords in a few more posts soon.