livin in the g spot

9/12

2011-09-10T22:36:00.001-07:00

When I think about 9/11 in NYC and after, i remember the silence. A lot of talk lately has been raised about what song or songs might commemorate the event. I can't even relate in those terms. One of my most vivid memories was sitting in a restaurant with my wife a day or two after. People gravitated towards restaurants and bars. It's New York, to a large extent, that's your living room … But the omnipresent soundtrack was nonexistent. We found ourselves at a table and all of the sudden the entire room was talking to one another. Very non-NYC. Conspiracies, exit plans, where were you??? did you know anyone???. Out of nowhere, music came on. I'll never forget a waiter leaping to turn it off. The sound was jarring to everyone there. Post 9/11 was the first time I've ever experienced the 'life as we know it will never exist again' feeling. Music was an 'it's too soon' feeling.

A month or so later, I wrote a song called "Wanderlust" piecing my thoughts after the event. It was released in 2003 subtitled "9/12 song". A new start. I don't know if anyone recalls how torrential the rain was the night after the attack.

In 2006, after several miscarriages and some trying times, my wife was pregnant and our due date was 9/11. Later that year she gave birth to our son. He was born on 9/12/06.

the wait

2011-06-01T22:49:00.000-07:00

our daughter's adoption paper's are fully executed. they sit on the new president of Haiti Martelly's desk to be signed ... the wait is excruciating.

haiti: back to the future part III day three/four

2011-05-08T22:05:00.000-07:00

at 6:30PM on good friday, g, helen, the baby & i sit in a dingy doctor's office in a clinic down the road from our hotel lit by a single light bulb on a side wall asking ourselves once again, "how the hell did we get here"?

it was decided that the baby would stay with us at the hotel all day friday. she arrived with marie and toto around 10am. she'd fallen asleep en route, so i immediately took her into out room. g stayed behind to "converse" with marie. marie is wonderful, but without a real translator, it's not easy.

i took the baby into our room and she slept. it was an amazing hour for me. for once, i could literally watch her unencumbered. i felt bad for g, but she joined us soon enough, as toto drove marie home.

we were both standing over her as she awoke and she turned her eyes from me to g. i'm used to kids crying waking up. this was more like, 'yeah, seen you … uhm, where am i?' and this went on for 5 minutes, despite our attempts.

the day went relatively well, however, we'd noticed a lot her symptoms from before were still present. listlessness, a constant cough, a running nose (green snot), and of course the hernia. obviously, we knew the hernia would be dealt with in the states, however, the other still persistent symptoms needed to be dealt with. we felt a trip to the local deli-mart might help for some children's tylenol.

it was decided that helen, julia and i would make the walk as toto and wilguens were elsewhere during the afternoon. as i mentioned before, this was significant, as we'd never left the hotel on our own. the walk was fine. nothing much to speak of. the girls got some attention as we approached the crowded crossroads gas station, but all was good. unfortunately, from a short distance we could see the deli-mart was closed. it was late afternoon on good friday after all. we had basically run out of options and decided to return to the hotel.

as we're walking back i notice a dental office sign and the girls go through the gate and noticed a medical clinic upstairs. there was a nurse/receptionist at a desk in the front, and an old caribbean friend at the far end of the room … a blaring television (blown speaker optional) watched by no one. today being good friday was also "jesus movie day" in haiti. every channel ran cheesy 50s-70s american made jesus biopics. as i passed numerous tvs during the day, JC got blonder, whiter and more blue-eyed with each flick. his hair lighter and fluffier. like those moonlighting close-ups of cybill shepherd.

a doctor was summoned and through the miracle of broken french against gospel cacophony, a bottle of children's tylenol was produced in record time. he refused money for it, which was so typical in these cases-- and we could tell they needed money. we humbly thanked the staff and quickly returned to the hotel.

overreaction is def an american thing … parental overreaction is a new day epidemic. when we returned, we gave her meds, but we grew increasingly concerned about the baby's listlessness. supposition gave way to honorary med degrees for all and in no time, we were headed back down the sidewalk to the clinic. g, helen, myself and the baby making double time as daylight geared up for last call.

the tv was louder this time … and had a viewer. jesus was giving the loaves and fishes address. 'we need to see the doctor'. nurse/receptionist lost a little of her english in our attempts to speak french. finally a cheery patient with decent english, walking with a drip cart (if you have a better name for it, please let me know), and a ravenous desire to talk brooklyn neighborhoods arrived to help with the discourse. after about 10 minutes we were led into dingy doctor's office … lit by a single light bulb on a far wall … no tv, but kinda-tuned radio playing low enough to drive you insane. our goal was antibiotics, pure and simple. we have no doubt when baby gets here, a dose of US meds will solve all that ails, but in the meantime, since we have no idea how long that will be, we need her on something. this leads to another discussion with nurse/receptionist. it is divulged we are adopting her. lightbulb goes off over nurse's head. she departs and returns. 'that will be $100'. i don't care to even ask what for, the 3 of us root through pockets and come up with a quick $100. she departs again and returns with blood test equipment. she approaches baby to start doing some vitals and cool customer baby wows us with her first ever FREAKOUT. it's then that we start to realize nurse has completely misunderstood us and thinks we need a complete blood work analysis done for adoption purposes-- something that was done months ago. it's at this moment that helen also sees the word "antibiotiques" on a poster … ok, this will be easy … no blood test needed, this "antibiotiques" word here, and we'll be on our way … no such luck.

from this moment on, we became sort of, trapped in the darkest doctor's office in the world. it began with us saying, 'you know what, we'll just get out of here'. we'd decided maybe it was just better to get her home and to her own doctor first thing in the morning (something that might have crossed our mind an hour earlier!!!). 'we'll just take the $100 back and be on our way'. nurse is getting a little weird, coming and going. keeps the 'stay right here, doctor is coming to sort this out' thing to the nth degree. gets a little rashomon here. narrator is thinking cut losses get the hell out of dodge, helen thinks that THEY might think there is something untoward going on and they're calling authorities, and g wants some GOTDAM antibiotics. whichever was best or worst decision is moot as nurse walks back in in complete stall mode … 'THE DOCTOR IS COMING NOW' … pregnant pause

ACT III.

literally out of nowhere, the door opens and toto bursts through. my first thought was 'toto's a doctor???' julia follows right behind. i'm still piecing this together as toto is freaking. 'i came back to the hotel and you were gone! i started crying thinking something had happened! we came right here!' words cannot describe how much i adore this man. within a minute, he bulldozed our way out … yeah, $100 lighter … that's a donation i'm proud to have made. i don't think there was ill intent, just a lot of miscommunication. i'm sure they're still telling the story of the crazy american's …

the baby was asleep as we got into toto's car and headed back down the road. another pitch black drive to croix-des-bouquets. as we approach the end of the drive the silence is suddenly broken by the sounds of a rah rah on the roadside. if you're unfamiliar, it's very much in the same vein as the second line in new orleans. a traveling party of drums, brass and whatever else makes it. they were directly across the street from marie's house. soundtrack to our baby's arrival. toto called marie's name from the yard, the house girls quickly grabbed the baby and brought her inside. she woke and we said our goodbyes hopefully for the last time.

-----

the drive to the airport was brief. i couldn't stop thinking about my son. i was worried about the flight. i hate that my wife and i are on the same flight. i had actually been having dreams leading up to our trip that our flight didn't make it. my take off and landing ritual on every leg was a quietly spoken apology to my son. this is not fair to him. as great as the outcome will be, it's not fair to roll those dice. but i have to remind myself, neither is walking out the door in the morning.

-----

this is the first time returning that we've actually seen our son a bit unbalanced by our being gone so long. don't get me wrong, he had a blast with his various grandparents and cousins, but he was a little demanding of answers when we returned. as he should be.

haiti: back to the future part III day two (pt. 3)

2011-04-25T20:20:00.000-07:00

as much as there are intense moments on our travels in Haiti, there are a lot of, well, really fun times. we meet really amazing Haitian and foreign people most everywhere we go.

a recurring theme on this trip has been the church across the highway from us. being easter week, it's been going non-stop. singing, shouting, reveling into the early, early morning.

our hotel is located in tabarre, on the outskirts of port-au-prince. you don't leisurely take strolls outside of the hotel compound for many reasons: 1) safety-- not so much from the haitian people, but from the insane driving that takes place, and the random sinister element that we've heard exists but have never seen (maybe that's why the security guys in our hotel carry metal detectors???), 2) we generally don't return home until dark … and 3) let's be honest, third world is third world and this is suburb third world. you absolutely can't drink the water, and as fellow traveler kate pointed out, the vegetables at the vegetable stand (while very fresh looking) are lying in ditches surrounded by and supported by garbage. so, unless you yearn to play a dicey looking form of lotto, have an itch to pull the last 3 feathers off a live rooster, or fancy a used "#1 college football star" t-shirt, you wait for toto or wilguens who actually know what they're doing.

as day two wound down we enjoyed a favorite custom. drinks by the pool. it's a good decompression chamber, and a great meet and greet if you're so inclined. tonight we met manny. we'd met him in a previous trip, but needed to reintroduce ourselves. he'd seen us with the baby and was interested to see what was up. he's an engineer who's been in country and staying at the hotel for about 8 months now. interesting as hell and a good guy. he's traveled the world and we hit it off immediately. over the course, the topic inevitably turns to the church. he's "been". would "recommend it". the rest of us kick it around, maybe tomorrow. one by one, our group heads off to bed, but manny and i are hanging …

so (??? beers later), the waiters had gone home and manny closes the bar (yes, he wields that power). he and i shuffle off to our rooms. just as i turn to the left to head home, i hear manny mutter, "let's go to church" … followed by me saying "sure". next thing i know the hotel security guy is sliding the huge metal gate open and letting us out of the compound. instantly we're trying to cross the road while gas trucks barrel in front of us. we finally find our way across the dusty road into the church. some teenagers make space for us. there are people asleep at our feet and strewn throughout the pews, but most everyone is alive! it's 1:30AM and the church is completely packed. AND it's the church i've always wanted! i was raised southern baptist, but i always felt gipped. we got the gospel, but not the fire and brimstone-- and definitely not the call and response in rhythm. ours was tempered. this was all fire. i was in (ed. note, please don't say it) HEAVEN! it was nonstop. kind of a jerry lewis telethon model. when one speaker was spent another came right up. literally the gospel experience of a lifetime … all too soon we realized it was REALLY LATE, we crossed the road, banged on the giant gate … sleep.

haiti: back to the future part III day two (pt. 2)

2011-04-24T20:26:00.000-07:00

after our trip to port-au-prince, we headed back to the hotel to grab the 500 lbs of relief supplies (YEAH! FIVE HUNDRED!!!!) we'd gathered together from donations, etc and drove to the camp we've been sponsoring since last year. it's moved since our last visit from one side of the town of cabaret to the other.

our relationship with madame, the proprietress, has become very strained since getting the baby out. she's called our partner in our organization to complain that we've gotten what we wanted and have moved on. that's obviously not true, but i'm not going to lie, we don't trust her, and therefore are a lot more careful in our dealings.

i'm just going to dive in to this next part. we'd heard some unpleasant rumblings about changes at the camp since the move. to put it bluntly, we'd heard there was a possibility that the kids we've met over the past year were sold to another orphanage. a completely mortifying thought, but in the context of the situation, a business decision. i know how hideous that sounds, and i agree, but let's be honest, many of these "orphanages" are nothing more than small businesses. set one up, and relief organizations such as ours will randomly show up and drop off food, clothing, and etc that are all in effect "currency". children can be sold to another leader so they can start their own "small business". it's not an easy life, but it is setting yourself up with a job.

we learned early on not to expect the t-shirt you put on one of the kids was going to be there the next time you arrived. to a certain extent, it's understandable. certain camps have certain needs, and if your camp isn't eating, why the hell shouldn't you sell extra clothing to get food? but it is disheartening when you show up and the kids look worse than they did at your last visit. welcome to haiti … again.

after our visit last fall, we had zero expectations for the camp. in september, we found them dirtier than usual and starved. we've continued shipments of food and supplies, but must admit, since that visit our heads have been in a different place. en route, we decided to visit the original camp first to see what was going on there (and if any of the kids were left there). we also wanted to show our friends where it was we'd liberated the baby. with the camp gone, it was a dusty field, nothing more. when we called at the door of the condemned structures next door, a couple of people greeted us with a "nothing to see here" pose and pointed us to madame's new place a couple miles away. we found out later that D, the baby's mother, was most likely living there.

we drove back through the crowded markets of cabaret and took the sharp left turn towards madame's new camp. we hadn't notified them about our arrival. the last thing we needed was another "show" visit. instantly upon seeing the kids we were a bit relieved. we recognized a lot of faces. on the other hand, they were filthy, ringworm was rampant, and they STUNK. whatever the smells, within seconds they were in our arms, and as always it was an amazing experience handing out candy, toys, food, and best of all clothing. the kids are so into having their own clothes. it's heartbreaking when you run out and there are still kids waiting. our friends were great and the smaller kids adored the attention.

the new camp is actually an upgrade from the previous … much more space, more heavy-grade tents, a few playground items for the smaller ones, and a semblance of school activities. but there were many troubling elements. the older girls acted very odd. several of the 11-14 year olds we've known for over a year and that 6-months ago were so full of life have become dead-eyed and standoffish. there was also a pushy new adult there moving the kids around with a belt attached to a stick. i'll try not to connect the dots.

we returned to our hotel and enjoyed dinner (well, all but the food) with the baby, her foster mother (who i suddenly realized is uncannily like my maternal grandmother), our old friend closter and our right hand men toto and wilguens. during the meal, we skyped with my parents and our son. technically, the first meeting between brother and sister.

haiti: back to the future part III day two (pt. 1)

2011-04-23T20:54:00.000-07:00

in retrospect, a day unlike i've had before … i guess i say that a lot here.

we decided to start the day with a drive through port-au-prince to give our friends a sense of what this is all about. if you're going to get the full-scope of how immense the problem is, and how distant the solutions are, it's mandatory.

i'm encouraged after our last trip that the majority of the rubble is gone. i literally don't know how that was accomplished. we were there six months ago and i lamented that it looked just as it did six months prior. there's still enough ruins to get a sense of the scale, but it was bizarrely refreshing to let port-au-prince unnerve you on its own terms. as i've stated before, i hope to never go there again in its present state. it's still the worst place i've been on earth. i wish there was a machine that could empty the city, wipe it out and start all over.

it was an excruciatingly long drive which really began to overwhelm us all. i've been to port-au-prince several times now, and it's mind-numbing to take it on a wide scale. this was echoed by our friends.

on a final note, we stopped for lunch in the city, and ordering off the menu, i had the weirdest sandwich of all time. fresh baked wheat bread (very good) topped with brie, lettuce, tomato, onions, ketchup, hot sauce, and … yellow mustard … yep, and again, it tasted like a whopper.

haiti: back to the future part III day one

2011-04-23T17:59:00.000-07:00

a pretty chill trip so far. when remembering hating your flight 7 hours in country, you know something's different. and there is something different in the air. keep in mind we haven't traveled to port-au-prince or the camp, but it's in the air that life has moved on. rubble has been removed from the outlying areas, and from i can ascertain, people are happy about the upcoming martelly presidency. hell, even hopeful-- something i could not have imagined a year ago. but i remind myself, croix-des-bouquets was relatively okay a year ago.

we're here with 3 friends on their first trip to haiti. that's a difference too. the last trip was so single minded. get the baby out of the camp. a mission. this trip is like a recap, a revisit. a chance to put faces and places to our stories. for us, it's so important to get actual eyes on this …

we reconvened with our friends wilguens and toto at the airport, quickly dropped off our supplies for the camp at the hotel and headed to croix-des-bouquets to see the baby. the last time we'd been was in darkness, and i couldn't really remember exactly what the house looked like, just the gate along the road. as we approached the town, i felt a nervousness that approached ridiculousness. 'is that the house???' i wanted to ask toto to tell me when we were 5 minutes away so i could better prepare. this little girl has wrapped me up and tied. i shudder for my future. i was pondering incessantly her first look at us.

we arrived, and her foster mom and attendants gleefully and dutifully sat us in the front room. it was akin to waiting for your prom date. when she finally arrived, it was magic. seeing her safe, loved and surrounded by older kids was amazing. and she was pure happiness. getting her out of that camp might be the greatest personal achievement of our lives.

we returned to la colombe hotel (i'm now realizing the hotel pays homage to a guy who did this island ABSOLUTELY no good!), and ate another in a series of bad meals. we'd all been up since 4AM. it was 8PM and felt like midnight … and now we're ending the night sleeping in the caribbean with sweatshirts on cause we can't reach the AC to turn it off ... bonswa

a flickering light in a tunnel

2011-02-28T22:25:00.000-08:00

we received pictures of our daughter today from our friend wliguens. he'd traveled to croix-de-bouquets to retrieve documents that will hopefully fill the last pieces of the puzzle to get her here. every week or so there's a glimmer. it's generally followed by a myriad of unrealized endings. the lack of urgency on the haitian side is mind-boggling. this week we begin what we hope is our final assault. i look at my son and all i can think of are days and hours and minutes and seconds of this child's life i'm missing. the awe-inspiring steps that i watched him make that i can't even remember now that i'll never be able to witness with her. i met her infant self almost a year ago and she's changing so quickly. she's the most beautiful little girl i've ever seen.

my haitian friends

2011-01-26T22:32:00.000-08:00

i was texting with a Haitian friend tonight. he asked me about scholarship opportunities. this guy (as i have posted previously) has helped us in many/ridiculous ways. my wife and i cannot ever repay his help. hoping we can help him in some way.

the process

2010-12-15T22:27:00.000-08:00

i don't know many adoption stories. never met an adopted kid growing up that i can recall. it wasn't part of the equation where i was raised. i know more about kids "taken in", but even that was rare. i've met some since our process started. funny how it doesn't come up unless you start talking about your "process". i guess that's kind of great. that's how i want it to be for our daughter. i want it to be the 110th thing she mentions that's significant about her. not that i want her to hide her heritage, but i want her to be a normal kid talking about whatever the hell is on her mind.

the adoption process (ugh, i will no longer use that word) has been long. it's been arduous, demanding, once insulting (FU fingerprint lady!), enlightening, humbling, uhm … 'how easy was that?', but most about the following … "when the hell do we get our daughter?"

since we last left Haiti … cholera, hurricane, botched election, violence, no flights into port au prince for a time last week. it's a laundry list of what the hell can happen next? but she was fine. we spoke to her foster mom during the hurricane. it's crazy, but she's in a stable house. they have their own water … but we're on edge. it's a reasonable neighborhood (though right on a main thoroughfare). she's okay.

today was another story. a friend of ours spoke to her mother. she had visited our girl. apparently, her arm got burned by pulling something off the stove and was very concerned. you know, it's the kind of thing that happens in any kid's life. it happened to me and G, but dammit, i want to be there to see that it doesn't happen, or want to be the one that makes it better. i hate this hold on life. i hate that my son blows kisses when he comes home to a picture. repeated attempts to call were not going through. we are helpless. we still have no news. parenting instincts inflamed. this cannot happen soon enough.

haiti: back to the future part II day four (pt. 2)

2010-09-30T21:58:00.000-07:00

the following four days were the most intensely frustrating, and ultimately rewarding days we've ever spent. i'm trying to document this now while it's raw and present not only to try and remember things as they happened, but to honestly get rid of some of it.

the crew:
me
g: my wife
nadia: g's friend, haitian born and bred, american as an adult
wilguens: driver, translator, lady killer
toto: driver, sometime translator, funniest dude on the planet

the others:
madame: leader of the camp
#2: her second in command
R: madame's daughter
D: the baby's mother

day four (part II):

'why are they pulling over?'

we had gotten her out of the camp. we had won. but g and i were on a tightrope. we were exhausted. i think we saw our 45 minute drive alone with toto as a respite. it's funny, toto's english gets worse as the day progresses and he was heading into his below 50 percent hour. i would often find myself using lots of slang to be a bit more discreet-- who could blame me, i had no idea what they were talking about when they hit their stride. as they drove ahead of us in wilguen's car, nadia contacted our lawyer to meet the group at our hotel. he would go over the documents and then petition the court early in the week to turn over custody of the baby to the foster mother. #2 had come along for the ride in case there were any last minute questions regarding the camp or the father. we appreciated that, he could've bailed. we knew when we arrived in haiti we were on a tight schedule and had to be done by sunday afternoon. we had literally run to the 11th hour, but we can do this.

suddenly wilguen's car pulled off to the side of the road. we'd been traveling for maybe 15 minutes. we stopped about 20 yards behind them. toto yelled out the window and g and i sat frozen in our seats. after about a minute nadia emerged from the car, she was crying. we got out. 'what's wrong?' … 'oh my god, it's bad' … 'what's wrong???'. this was uncharacteristic of nadia. she was a rock, not someone prone to emotional outbursts … 'WHAT'S WRONG!!!?' … 'it's so bad, … 'WHAT???'

'D only found out you were taking the baby on thursday … madame only told her 3 days ago'.

i was hit by an oil truck while riding my bike when i was 7. a hit and run. i barely remember it as i'd gone into shock after being hit. i remember going back to school a month or so after the accident and fabricating this story of what "shock" was like for my friends.

tick tick tick … 'we are not taking her baby if she doesn't want to give her up. we'll go back to the camp right now. this isn't right'. how could this have happened? how the fuck could this have happened???

'D cannot believe her sister would do this to her, and she thinks you were in on the coverup too'.

'you have to explain to her we had no idea … we've been talking to madame for months. we were told all of this was okay'.

#2 got out of the car and approached. nadia went off … 'you are LIARS'! followed by multitude of french. #2 took the verbal punches, but they had stunned him. he started repeating, 'i cannot go with you, i cannot be a party to this'. we knew how important it was to keep him on board, so we just asked to him to wait and watch how things went. reluctantly, he agreed.

nadia grounded herself and returned to the car. we stood on the side of a highway in haiti wondering how the hell we got to this moment. a few minutes later, nadia returned. 'she understands that you weren't a party to this' … 'so you told her that we will not take her baby from her?' … 'no, she wants you to take the baby. she understands that she cannot care for it. that's the reason she was living under her sister at the camp, because she couldn't provide for her' … 'so what now'? … 'she wants to go with the baby'.

i interpreted that she wanted to go to the US with the baby. i knew there was legally no chance for that, and honestly, no chance anyway. we could afford to adopt a baby, but not a family. wilguens joined us and nadia explained that D just wanted to get away from the camp. it didn't really matter where. in retrospect, D was dealing with the incredible emotional separation that was about to occur and the betrayal by her sister/provider. we couldn't believe she held up as long as she did.

D and the baby remained in the car the entire time. wilguens mentioned that she had expressed interest in an apartment in port-au-prince for a year. i was so shell-shocked i wasn't even thinking when i asked, 'how much would that be'? wilguens responded, 'about $500 (US)'. in a haze, i thought, that's pretty cheap. luckily, i popped out of it and realized, if there's one thing port-au-prince does not need is another person. we we would discuss options for her. nadia had really connected with D. we had amassed many contacts on our trips, and our friends were well connected, we would handle this, but we needed to push on. time was of the essence.

in the interim, while everyone regained their bearings, we learned that D had gotten an inkling of the adoption back when we visited in march. we don't remember seeing her, but we know she was in the camp. a few days ago we were speaking to the man who started us on this journey, who had first told us about the baby. he was no longer affiliated with the camp, but was living in haiti and had visited it recently. D and the baby had been in camp while he was there. he and R were talking in front of D, when he mentioned g and i were coming to take the baby away. he had just assumed D knew. then she knew it was real. to make matters even worse, D was told by R to be inconspicuous while we were here on this trip. finally D put her foot down. she said she wanted to meet the people taking her baby. and that it is why she made the entrance on that friday morning with the baby … one of the top experiences of our lifetimes just doubled in importance.

we all agreed to move on. we drove to the hotel ... we flew to the hotel. we talked to our son at his birthday party. he was beaming. we were … we just were …

we arrived at the hotel and walked to the backyard. this was always our sanctuary at the end of each day. now we were all there. it was crazy, a wedding party on one end, and a pool filled with hotel guests and haitians with day passes. we pulled two tables together and sat and waited for our lawyer. there was a sense of relief, especially with our drivers who moved to the outside bar area to reminisce about the craziness of the day.

g, nadia, and i decided to take the opportunity to talk options with D while the baby sat in her lap. #2 sat quietly alongside. 'we would like to send you to school. is that something you might like'? our grandstanding upbringing in the US has taught us that education is an answer to all ills. you can pull yourself up from nothing and turn your life around. it happens every day. as any entitled american knows, surely a 26 year old mother of 6, whose 5 children live with their father and whose infant is being taken by us would realize that this is her day of emancipation … a new lease on life?

she shrugged and said, 'no'.

it's then we realized that the concept had no bearing on her existence. she grew up on the side of a mountain and has been having children since she was 16. this is not a judgement on her. this is not a "welfare mom". this is her reality. these are hard facts to accept, and even harder to write. we may as well have been asking her if she'd like to fly to the moon. this is what extreme poverty looks like.

she replied, 'i'd like to buy some things and sell them on the side of the road'. we replied, 'D, you have to think bigger picture' … but my god, this IS reality. this is what she sees. this is where she lives, and will continue to live.

as we sat waiting for our lawyer, i noticed D looking toward the shallow end of the pool. a twenty-something group of bikini-clad upper-class haitians drinking, dancing and singing. D's age. she sat with the baby in her lap, emotionless, but never turning her eyes from them.

the lawyer arrived and we moved inside to the restaurant. our friend closter arrived to facilitate travel to the foster home. documents were passed. problems were discussed. it was decided we had sufficient materials in the eyes of the law to move the baby. we discussed plans for the coming week with our drivers. it was time to say goodbyes. plans had been made to take D and #2 back to the camp, but as dusk was upon us, toto said that it was too dangerous. when darkness arrives in haiti, there are areas where no on goes, and cabaret is one. #2 said that he would find his own way back, but that he could not be responsible for D. we couldn't argue, and he left. nadia arranged for D to stay with her at her friend's, but first D would make the trip with us so she could meet the foster mother. she wanted to know where her daughter would be staying. we set off. we would meet wilguens and nadia with D at the hotel later that evening.

toto drove us to croix-de-bouquets, me in front, g, D and baby in back. we heard the baby talking. i had mentioned to D earlier that i had never heard her voice, and she told me she 'talks all the time'. she and D talked for a few minutes, it was mesmerizing. we drove into the darkness.

a half hour later toto pulled the car to the side of the road. 'we are here'. the house was another 20 yards off the road, in between businesses. we ambled in pitch black as i struggled to turn my phone light on. we'd forgotten that most electricity is turned off at sunset. we found a modest concrete house, and were led into a living room dimly lit by a gas lamp. the foster mother greeted us and we all sat a large table. she and D sat side by side. she asked closter to call henry to discuss details. we barely spoke. as she talked with henry, she watched the baby breast feed, and she asked if D would stay the night. the three would share a bed. suddenly, we were leaving. an awkward goodbye, holding hands with the baby … 'i'll see you'.

...

'she's sleeping in a bed for the first time in her life'.

haiti: back to the future part II day four (pt. 1)

2010-09-29T21:26:00.000-07:00

the following four days were the most intensely frustrating, and ultimately rewarding days we've ever spent. i'm trying to document this now while it's raw and present not only to try and remember things as they happened, but to honestly get rid of some of it.

the crew:
me
g: my wife
nadia: g's friend, haitian born and bred, american as an adult
wilguens: driver, translator, lady killer
toto: driver, sometime translator, funniest dude on the planet

the others:
madame: leader of the camp
#2: her second in command
R: madame's daughter
D: the baby's mother

day four (part I):

… i shared in an earlier post that we learned about D and the baby in stages, sometimes from pointed questions, sometimes from random asides. one stage i have not mentioned is learning in the past couple months that D and the baby aren't in the camp by happenstance. D is madame's younger sister …

today is our son's 4th birthday. it's a big one. the first he's really understood, and we're 1500 miles away. this doesn't sit well with me. yeah, he's surrounded by grandparents, cousins and total love, but this goes against a pact we made when i first held him alone in a hospital room waiting for g to emerge. we'd booked the tickets completely unaware. it's the mad quest we're involved in, but why does he have to suffer for it … or is it just me?

#2 arrived at our hotel while we were having breakfast. ordering food has been one of our great challenges since arriving at our "world-class dining" hotel (according to their myspace page … note to self, why don't all hotels use myspace?). the language barrier is exacerbated by dead-eyed stare waiters, and generally, no matter what you order, something else comes out … a really long time after you ordered it. our friends had gotten into the habit of calling in orders 45 minutes ahead of time. we had finally set up a code with the waiters. g would order eggs and bread. i swear they used 6 eggs. it's was literally a pile of eggs and french bread. fine, she was happy. it's not like you're ordering takeout in tabarre, haiti, or taking a walk to suss the food situation. i ordered, as always, the fromage sandwich. as i've mentioned before, fromage doesn't mean cheese, it means HAM and cheese. they watched day after day and meal after meal as i removed the meat in front of them, but i couldn't get through and spare the pig in the backyard. the sandwich was soaked with onions and ketchup. i just plowed through. it was sustenance. oddly, it tasted almost identical to a whopper. #2 sat, and i asked if he would like to order. he said yes.

g went back to the room to get things ready for our drive. our entourage was still on its way. i decided to use this time to get as much information out of #2 as i could. he was definitely in cahoots with madame, but he had something in his eyes that she didn't. a tinge that he had life left in him for good (as i kept repeating to myself). it was mixed with a world weariness, but i would take that. miraculously, his food arrived within minutes. before i could ask him my next question, he looked at me and said, 'you are a great man'. i readily assured him i was not a great man, that i was a lucky man, lucky not to be in such a place with no options. he referred to french translations of our bios we had given them yesterday at the camp. as they gave us documents, he asked if they could see some of ours to let them get a feel for the two of us. we readily agreed. it was standard stuff, well, when you are asked to provide a living history of yourself to now … born, schooled, traveled a bit, wrote some newspaper articles, wrote some songs, moved here, met a girl, used to do this, now does this, had a kid … to me, it was a clumsily prepared study of mismanagement. a concise look at a threadbare line connecting the random dots of my life. however, through his words, i had lived a life of wonderment. i was a rich man. but at that moment i wanted him to read a dossier of the random stupid destructive shit i've done in my life. the days i've wasted, the mindless detours i've followed cause i could ... cause in the back of my mind i knew i had safety nets ... i know, life isn't fair, it's drilled into us every day. i get it. i just don't have to agree with it. but, i had to focus. he had answers to questions i needed to know.

tell me about madame … 'she started bringing orphans into her father's home at 16 and never looked back. mother theresa type stuff. this camp has run for 22 years'. does she own the camp? … 'yes, but not the property where the tents are across the way. the children were moved there after the earthquake destroyed much of the camp'. why isn't your camp sanctioned by the government? ... 'well, we've submitted all the paperwork, but in haiti, you must know someone'. in 22 years, you don't know someone??? what's your long-range goal with the kids? … 'madame has bought an acre of land on the other side of cabaret'. really? can we see it? … 'of course, we'll see it today. on the way to meet the father'. this was big news. we'd been involved with the camp for months now, but had never gotten wind of this. as we wound down, he looked at me and said, 'she is your baby now, but the children at the camp are all of your children'. i assured him that we would continue to aid the kids.

nadia and crew arrived and we fashioned a crude custody release document for the father to sign. we were set to go.

i could drive the route to cabaret in my sleep at this point. the sidewalks and the roads through tabarre were packed this sunday morning. g and i exchanged occasional glances reminding each other to breathe. toto blared the radio and blasted the air conditioning as we broke through to the countryside.

we took a right shortly before entering cabaret. suddenly it dawned of me that this was either the father we were meeting or the new camp. i really wish i knew which. all in the know were in the lead car. we drove up a rocky hill and stopped the car. i exhaled, it was the new camp. the property was impressive. a nice piece of land with a cinderblock house under construction ('madame's house'). the children would stay in tents in the yard. there was a river behind the house, ocean in the distance, and several occupied smaller houses scattered across the hills. we hurried back to our cars for the next stop.

we approached a man fitting the description sitting on a fence beside the road. #2 jumped out first and presented documents. i made eye contact with the young man and took his picture. i felt like a complete asshole as i held the camera, but this will mean everything to her one day. he sat back on the fence and looked at the document. #2 pointed 'sign here'. g and i gritted and stared at one another as pen erased blood. within a minute, we were back in the car, and he walked back into the woods. silence.

we anticipated madame would have one last play before the day was over. we had all agreed to stay as calm as possible. not ask the questions that we had animatedly batted around the evening before, where we concocted our own versions of where money and food was going, and our own versions of justice. stay just as long as we needed. we had to meet the lawyer back at the hotel later that afternoon to give him the documents and receive his blessing that the transfer could occur. time was ticking.

the kids … the kids rushed us as we entered. we knew it would be our last chance with them for months, so we led them with us to the meeting spot. D and the baby were there. D looked settled, and we all took turns helping the baby take her steps around the camp. i asked nadia to accompany me to meet with madame. we met her and i explained we had been told of the neediness of the camp. i explained to her that we didn't come with much cash, but i would help her out. i gave her some money and gave her my word that we would be in contact in the coming week about new supplies. i walked out feeling confident. wilguens, g, D and the baby were walking out of the camp and to the cars. i joined them. we were getting out.

we sat around the car and joked. one thing about this trip, as stressful as it was, it seemed we were laughing 90% of the time. the crew that we'd assembled had grown into a family. our drivers who started doing this as a job had grown so completely invested that they took key negotiations into their own hands before translating, and we were comfortable with it. they were our guys. wilguens was flirting with camp girls, toto was trying to nap … but we noticed nadir had been missing for about 20 minutes. we asked wilguens to go find her. 10 minutes passes and he doesn't come back. finally nadia emerges stone faced and asks that g and i come with her to talk to madame. as we walk forward a simple thought is proffered silently, 'do what i do, say what i say'. we meet madame. she echoes #2 from the breakfast, 'you must take these as your children' … yes, yes, we assure her, we're sending doctors next month-- these kids are sick, and we will continue to send doctors … and abruptly, almost comically abruptly, it ends. she asks that all return so that we can pray.

a group consisting of myself, g, D, baby, madame, nadia, #2 and wilguens convened in her 12 x 12 room. it was humid and hot as blazes. out of nowhere, the kids started streaming in. soon we numbered 25-30. madame began a long prayer. it was in turns beautiful and guilt ridden. a celebration of a send-off shared with kids we'd grown to adore, many of whom who would never leave a mile of this place. slowly we filed out, and said goodbyes. as we got into our cars, the sky turned black. within half a minute of our leaving the camp, it was pouring rain ... poetry.

we'd decided it would be best if D and the baby traveled with the haitians. i don't know, maybe a last ride alone with your daughter without us getting in the way? mainly, let her be surrounded by people with which she can converse. i'd grown comfortable around D. i was no longer sneaking pictures of her and the baby when she wasn't looking, but we were the people taking her baby. wilguens was an amazing go between. they were both 26, and while they lived on opposite ends of the haitian spectrum, she seemed to trust him. she needed that. driving through cabaret the rain broke as quickly as it had started and we sat in silence.

haiti: back to the future part II day three

2010-09-27T21:57:00.000-07:00

haiti: back to the future part II day two

2010-09-21T21:45:00.000-07:00

these four days were the most intensely frustrating, and ultimately rewarding days we've ever spent. i'm trying to document this now while it's raw and present not only to try and remember things as they happened, but to honestly get rid of some of it.

the crew:
me
g: my wife
nadia: g's friend, haitian born and bred, american as an adult
wilguens: driver, translator, lady killer
toto: driver, sometime translator, funniest dude on the planet

the others:
madame: leader of the camp
#2: her second in command
R: madame's daughter
D: the baby's mother

day two:

we've been dealing with the "orphanage" since we last left it in march. i'm not going to refer to it as an orphanage again, it's a camp. that said, what we saw was heartbreaking. 50+ kids living in post-earthquake hellish conditions. dirty, hungry, sick and lacking in all of the basic comforts. i don't whether it's us being parents, or being something with a heartbeat, but they just stuck to us. for all the misery, they were kids. they laughed, they hugged, they hit each other, they made us laugh. ourselves and our traveling partners decided to start a non-profit to help them. we sent shipments of food. we got friends involved, we got friends to give money, to give clothes, to give necessities, to give of themselves. and we've been floored by the response.

we'd all also decided to adopt children from haiti. this precipitated our trip and any charitable efforts we eventually got involved in. so, to be honest, we had something to gain. i always get queasy when people tell me what a great thing we're doing adopting a child. not to be crass about it, but what we're getting in return pales in any "good human" points counter.

we went to haiti without our partners this trip. this was a partial relief trip, and a major adoption necessity. though we had no idea how necessary.

our entourage left early friday morning for the camp … it's funny reading that, but we really did have an entourage. my wife, a haitian-born friend of hers from NYC, and two drivers. we also picked up a haitian translator named enoch we'd met at the hotel the night before that happened to live in cabaret (where the camp is located) and wanted to hitch a ride. we'd been in contact earlier that week with the leader of the camp, a religious woman i'll call madame. we'd met her in our previous trip, and she had been our contact for food & relief shipments. she had also been involved in our attempts to adopt the baby. in fact, since our last trip, we had learned that the baby was her niece. it was decided that we would all meet at the camp on friday to discuss the removal of the child from the camp, and last minute paperwork needed to facilitate such transfer. she had assured all that everything was in place.

we arrived around 8:30am, 50 minute drive from our hotel. haiti wakes up EARLY. given the fact that it's dark near 6pm year round, it makes sense. we made our way into the old side of the camp, i.e., the partially destroyed part. was not that keen upon the kids hanging in the now condemned church/school, but it was great to see them, i kinda forgot all about it. they rushed us. absolute bliss. i'm not claiming it's us, these kids are so deprived that a visiting tire would probably give the same reaction, but it was great to see everyone-- even though we noticed there were many more 2-3 year olds this time. after about 15 minutes i walked outside to check my camera. enoch walked out. we made small talk for a second before i noticed he was crying. he looked down and said, "it's too tragic, i have to leave" and walked past me. mind you, he lives a 5 minute motorcycle ride away. i looked inside, in my early morning stupor and my excitement to see the kids, i had neglected to see what bad shape they were in. suddenly i noticed the awful clothes, the surroundings which had deteriorated since our last trip, and the coughs and weariness many exhibited. their smiling faces had hidden all of this. i still don't know how they conjured those faces, but it's all they know.

madame was nowhere to be found, her 30-ish daughter R was in charge. we inquired and she told us madame would be there soon, so we continued with the kids. we passed out candy, then toys, and we were all having a fantastic time. i had completely missed the fact that our little girl was not present. i'd been so nervous about seeing her. 6 months is a long time in an infant's life. would she be walking? would she look different? the following is one of the most surreal moments i've experienced.

… out of the corner of my eye i spied a white dress, i must've seen a million white dresses in my lifetime, including the one my wife wore that will be stitched & tattooed on my heart long after i'm done. on this day, i turned and saw a child being carried into the room. in a moment, i realized it was her. i literally lost my breath. in that instant, lights burned from the sky illuminating her. time ceased to exist … i saw 20 years+ of this child, and then her walking down the aisle … yeah, i saw that …

g picked her up, we both spent time with her, but it was tough with the other kids constantly wanting attention. i passed her off to the woman that brought her in. about 5 minutes later, a BOMBSHELL. i look over to the baby, and she's breastfeeding. 'holy sh*t!!!' i think. that's her mom. I quickly mention to g, who walks over to her and asks, "are you D?" she, of course speaks no english but acknowledges 'yeah'. this weird wild bonding thing starts. the ground rules are being set non-verbally … here she is … she's still mine … you can hold her whenever you want … i still care for her … she likes you … you can walk with her, but i will watch … she almost knows how to walk, but not yet … are you?

after a while, it becomes obvious that we need to get back to the other kids, madame has still not shown up, and our crew has gone into town for water. effectively, without them, we're mute. my 3 years of french in high school has not miraculously returned to me (sorry mr. dockery!). HOWEVER, we had brought 4 giant suitcases full of shoes, clothing and medicine with us … given the state of the kids, g decided it was time to break them open. luckily, our crew arrived just as we started to open. at this point, R started to freak a little. our translators told us she was saying "you must wait for madame before you open the bags". g, being g, was done with all of this, and added her go to french "je ne comphrend francais". this led into a free for all highlight of the trip. these kids, who have NEVER gotten anything, were able to walk up and basically order items of clothing. it was an amazing experience. there were so many kids needing. they were filthy and their clothes (well, those who had-- many kids wearing no pants) were filthier. we didn't even know what to do with the clothes they exchanged. R was getting extremely agitated, but we didn't care. we gave out everything. we gave R the empty suitcases and the medicine and extras to placate her.

we then began a series of calls to madame to find out where she was and what time a meeting would occur. we knew we were getting the brush off, and figured it had to do with the baby. she was going to prolong this meeting as long as possible. we weren't sure exactly why at this point, but we figured it had something to do with a promise of our continued support of the camp after the adoption. since the baby and our support had never been connected from the beginning, we were more than a little miffed, but we needed to keep things on an even keel.

it was finally determined that madame was in delmas (outlying section of port-au-prince) picking up provisions for the camp. our translators finally got her to understand the urgency of the meeting, and we decided to meet for lunch at a truck stop/restaurant owned by a friend of ours. we were also able to convince madame to allow D and the baby to travel with us. that was a thrill cause it gave us more time with the baby as well as valuable time getting to know D.

lunch was great. lots of baby time. D couldn't have been in a more uncomfortable position and handled everything amazingly. this plaza is one of the loudest places on earth, trucks are literally pounding by. add to the mix the obligatory blown speakers at the restaurant with burnt tweeters blaring what i'd gingerly call "friggin LOUD clown music". madame finally showed up with her #2 in charge in tow. they ordered takeout. we discussed the papers, ID forms, and other docs necessary for the transfer. things ended well and we sent D and baby back with them to the camp with the agreement that #2 would meet us the next morning at our hotel in tabarre with docs signed by the father. we headed back to the hotel and enveloped ourselves in a few prestiges.

haiti: back to the future part II

2010-09-09T17:33:00.000-07:00

day two:

i feel like i've been stuck in the russian roulette scene from deer hunter for the past four hours. haitians screaming through me into cell phones negotiating over our daughter to be. well, minus the deniro and walken characters. just the crazy guys with money in their hands. this all while spending an exhausting & exhilarating day with 60 of the greatest kids i've ever laid eyes on. suddenly, it's calm. all sides have come together and we are as close as we've ever been to being a family of four. i could sleep for months.

day one:

it's been 5 months since we've been to haiti. it's also been 5 months since we decided to try and actually do something here. our previous visit was eye opening, transformative, life changing, humbling, and ultimately a wake up call. we're trying to adopt a child and make a difference, 2 things that can co-mingle and entirely intersect with profound implications on personal lives we barely know. a scrap of an idea where to start and no idea where to stop.

flying in to port-au-price was a bit disheartening. yeah, we've followed the relief work ebb and flow, but seeing dozens of tent cities under the wings before landing is a callous reminder.

if the heartstrings don't sate you, the airport provides … you'd think landing in the caribbean would be a relaxed event (jamaica mon!). not so. you exit customs at warp speed. service workers descend like flies. They seemingly outnumber passengers. bring lots of $1's and expect lots of fights about them.

as our luck with amazing friends and contacts continue, it was arranged for us to be picked up by the local chief of police, saving us not only a ridiculously long walk from the airport to the taxi stand, but another onslaughts of men trying to help push your luggage cart ("we love americans!").

signs of slow progress abound leaving the airport in the packs of yellow clad rubble removers. unfortunately, until the endless mounds of concrete are dealt with, little reconstruction can take place.

we headed into port-au-prince. it looks exactly the same as it did 5 months ago. the cleanup takes place mostly by hand-- though we found out later the big equipment generally comes in at night. we rushed to meet our lawyer as it's the only time he is available on our trip. he outlined the final steps towards making the adoption a reality and given some help from her family, this can happen.

and then there's the food … i'm a vegetarian, but within reason. if there's nothing else to eat, well … had a biscuit at JFK this morning. next meal was dinner at the hotel. i haven't eaten chicken since i was last here, but tonight's menu dictated something on the carnivore side. decided to go all out … bad idea … suffice to say, the worst chicken i've ever had. dry and tough. hard to take when there are actual chickens walking over your feet under the table.

leaving haiti

2010-04-02T10:27:00.001-07:00

we've arranged for a doctor to see the little one and pending medical clearance, we can start proceedings. if all goes well, we're looking at four month or so process. our traveling companions have an amazing story as well. they came, like us, looking, but in a strange last minute twist, are adopting the son of a cousin in croix des bouquets that can no longer make ends meet. the fact that it's the godson he mentioned on the way over that he'd never met before, makes it even crazier.

feel like john henry the last days in haiti. up at 6 every day, banging til midnight. like life intends i suppose. but alas, we're exhausted. the last full day felt like four. we're satisfied and tragically sad. we might save one kid, but in our small picture, 54 need a place to live, and the one we're thinking of needs out immediately (and yeah, we feel like crap just thinkin about one amongst the others).

as we leave our gracious host's incredible accomodations, we say goodbye to friends we've met and spent time with over the last few days. but once again, traffic gets the best of us. we alloted ourselves over an hour for our fifteen minute (without traffic) drive to the bus station. about ten minutes in, we realized we were screwed. the problem is, our previously purchased tickets only have 2 options for the return trip, 8 and 10am. these numbers are kinda fudgy too. the bus leaves when it fills up, so #2 theoretically can leave right after #1. turns out we were able to grab 4 of the last 8 seats on bus #2.

listen carefully: DO NOT TAKE THE BUS FROM HAITI TO SANTO DOMINGO. take a moment and say that out loud. the bus from santo domingo to haiti is fine, a manageable 4 1/2 hours. you enjoy the changing topography of the dominican republic, ease yourself into third world conditions, all while watching 3 1/2 hollywood movies you never knew existed ("imagine that"? ... eddie please!).

the return trip took 10 hours. it's mainly due to the border crossing. at the haitian side, passports are checked, we sit on the bus for an hour, and passports are returned. the bus moves about 50 yards to the dominican portion. we sit for a while. suddenly, and without prompting, all of the haitian passengers all exit the bus. we figure they're getting off and securing alt transportation. a few minutes later, we're instructed to get off the bus and walk to the dominican border crossing (or as i call it, that weird half door at the post office where you pick up packages). we join an ever growing, and incredibly slow moving line, where at the end, we simply hand over our passports. THEN, we're asked to go back to our bus, retrieve all of our luggage, and come back inside and submit to a baggage check. mind you, there's no verification that you got your bags. no official making sure the bus baggage has been completely emptied. it's simply created as one last pain in the ass to the haitian residents. from what we've gleaned, there's little love lost between the two countries. this is just a little FU on the way in to the DR. i through my bag on the table and unzipped it (literally) 3 inches before the lady told me to move on. our haitian/american travelling companion though, was throughly checked and even asked to return as he muttered something under his breath while exiting. it's good to know racism is alive and well!

we returned to the bus, exhaled, and sat back in our seats. we all chuckled as we recalled that port au prince to the border is the SHORT end of the trip, and spent the next 5 hours watching even more fake movies drowned out by music from a neighboring group of four's cellphone. i won't even get into the complimentary sandwiches made of a gelatinous cheese, onions, peppers & scrapings of either tuna or ring finger.

... and here we end it all at an all-inclusive resort in boca chica. i'd never been to one before. g describes it as a cruise ship on land. i kind of liken it to the nickel slot room at bally's run by 9th graders ... are we kidding us? this was all set up in advance. we haven't had a solitary holiday in a while and figured we were here, and we needed it. just us decompressing with euro-trash speedos, beach karaoke, and an endless supply of slurpee machine daquiris.

haiti trois

2010-03-31T22:08:00.000-07:00

most of today's plans went out the window early as our 6 mile trek into port au price to visit lawyers took 3 hours. we had rain last night that lasted a couple hours. it made an awful commute insane. we had three separate instances where we didn't move for 15 minutes or more. the dry dry ground had instantly turned to a muddy soup. by 11am it was gone, but it resonated.

we knew going in that the missionary group that attempted to cross the border with 30 kids a couple months back has not done anyone interested in adopting any favors. finally in port au prince, we met with a first set of lawyers and discussed adoption options. they were one of the oldest law firms in haiti and were very professional and inviting. the interpreter/ass't atty was american-educated (in nawlins) and i probably tripped over her at jazzfest a few years back. a rare national that hit the US big time, came back and plans to stay ... we discussed many options, especially since some of the details of our possible adoptee had been amended. we left the firm feeling hopeful, but a bit overwhelmed. they required us to do alot of the legwork, which ain't easy in the USA, and insinuated there were easier kids to get out there.

i have to be honest, being back in port au price was too much. it's a hideous experience. i needed to get out. we weren't able to return to the orphanage due to time constraints, but we did have a secondary mission. to get our gracious host to a doctor. he'd been suffering with an ear infection since we arrived. he's leaving for a speaking tour of spain on friday to keep awareness of the crisis alive, so time was of the essence. we then found out about another byproduct of the disaster. basic health care is not an easy thing to get these days. he noted the two places he used to use in port au prince were destroyed. we noticed many places exist only as trauma centers. after a few trips, we found a doctor, who uncharacteristically, took him immediately, and thankfully the drugs worked almost instantly.

our next appointment was a dinner being thrown for us and a few others by the proprietor of the orphanage. i have to say something about the food here. i've felt embarrassed by the attention given and the spreads that have been laid out for us. it's been surreal. 5 to 6 course meals every day. i came here expecting not to eat for days, and have been inundated with food. i can safely say, i've eaten more plantains in the last few days than i've ever had in my life. i can also sadly report that a dimwitted waiter ended my vegetarian streak last night. how much clearer can "sandwich fromage" be?????? we we eating outside at a hotel restaurant and it was dark. little did i know i was eating processed ham slices under a mound of lettuce, tomato and mayo.

the dinner was ridiculously plentiful. 3 types of rice, lasagna, fish, salad (thank god), slaw, beans, goat, potatoes. sadly, for the proprietor, the main attraction of the evening was a no show. the premier adoption lawyer in haiti. he called to say he was lost, and then called back to say he'd been involved in an accident. it wasn't a total write-off, the proprietor and the four of us talked about establishing a foundation to support the orphanage. while trying to deal with shipping costs and problems, a fellow guest overheard the conversation and announced he was involved in food imports. he readily agreed to ship product gratis with his shipments from miami (where we already have someone in place to collect goods). it was that stars aligning moment. then, like hollywood scripts go, the stud lawyer called and invited us to his house to talk.

we arrived to meet the mysterious mr. coke (fake name) on a road that our host mentioned was another former "kidnap route". now dark, tent cities everywhere. candles, singing ... we finally pulled over by the side of some medical establishment, proprietor and us couples hung out by the side of the road waiting as dozens of puzzled looks walked by. suddenly a giant SUV strolled up and we followed on our way up a gravel road with a 50% incline. at the top of the hill was a ridiculous double level with roof deck tarantino-esque palace. crazy views of surrounding hillside lights. we all watched as coke walked out of SUV ... he literally looks 23 years old. baggy t-shirt, long black athletic shorts ... read dekalb ave.

turns out he's been practicing 16 years. spelled stuff out like the cocky MF he's paid to be. given everything goes accordingly-- and that's ALOT, we're looking at at least a 4-month process. we asked about the legality of getting her out of the orphanage and into a private home in the meantime. that was definitely a possibility. good things.

on ride home it rained again for a couple hours. road was mainly deserted but pretty rough. looks like the rainy season is here. we've got to get little girl out of the orphanage and out of the rain.

haiti day two

2010-03-30T21:24:00.000-07:00

getting my thoughts in order after today is not easy ...

i saw the 9/11 wreckage from 2 blocks away a couple of days after the attacks. that was staggering. driving through port au prince was like visiting hell. officials are now estimating the death toll will reach 300,000, but alot of locals think that's a low estimate. it's easy to understand why. the buildings are all made of concrete. when one falls, it tends to pancake. driving past dissolved buildings, you just know there are many more dead people trapped inside. i resisted taking photos. you can find it all over the web. entire city blocks flattened. schools. communities. hotels. hospitals. homes.

this day had many, many levels.

our trip to the orphanage in cabaret began early with ridiculous traffic in croix de bouquet and onward-- and i drive in nyc. the roads are narrow, made even narrower by rubble and the clearing of the giant roadside ditches in anticipation of the rainy season. one site that has become increasingly ominous to me over the last couple of days are giant dry river beds that snake through cities, towns, and villages. these are going to become raging waters in the months ahead, and with so much focus towards rubble removal and reconstruction, these could lead to flooding disasters.

we broke through the traffic and had an amazing open view of limestone cliffs on the right and the caribbean on the left ... until our host mentioned that the area between us and the sea was the site of mass graves of earthquake victims ... yeah, this is getting depressing.

we made our way to the orphanage outside cabaret around midday. we had met the co-proprietor earlier en route. over breakfast he explained to us the conditions. they weren't recognized officially by the state. they had no educational curriculum or schooling at all. their sleeping quarters had been destroyed by the earthquake and seven children had died after falling into a ravine. they existed on a meager budget strictly to feed and house the children. we came to this orphanage as my wife knows the co-proprietor through work. a man that in the less than 12 hours i've know him deserves adulation beyond belief (more later). as we toured the ... i can't call it a facility ... the area ... i couldn't believe what i saw. dilapidated buildings, destroyed beds, concrete rooms for some of the older children that resembled the set of papillon. utter squalor. the river bed that ran beside the orphanage is ill prepared for the rainy season and god knows what that's going to bring.

the proprietor had informed us earlier that the kids were now sleeping outside (in a giant tent i learned). as we walked toward the children, i could see the tent beyond a giant tarp full of holes over a makeshift set of long desks. sitting there waiting for our crew were 55 kids. the next 2 hours made for one of the most incredible days i've ever had. i won't bore you with cliches about anything kid related. yeah, they were amazing, cute, fun, etc, etc, etc, ... suffice, they were kids and they don't deserve this life.

we finally met our little girl ... and yeah, she was the bomb, but i'm not jinxing anything. we hope things work out. things look good. we meet with some lawyers tomorrow.

on our way home, we drove to the aforementioned destruction in port au prince. our host wanted us to see it and we felt the same way. it started kinda piecemeal. a building here, a building there. finally, the floodgates opened. it was a quiet ride. towards the end of the tour, i broke the cardinal mistake, don't give ANYONE money in public. we were standing outside the destroyed presidential palace in port au prince (one of a few times we left the car in crowded areas today --all bad experiences). the palace is surrounded by giant tent cities on all sides. as i crossed the road back to our car, i spied 2 boys hovering. i knew they were going to ask for "one american dollar". i had 2 in my pocket. i quietly handed the boys the money and got in the car. as i waited for the rest of our crew to get inside another group of kids began to surround our car. once everyone was inside, we attempted to quell the storm by telling the kids that if they stood back, we would give them money. this only made the situation worse. they stormed us. our stoic host was even screaming at them. an adult passing by started yelling and hitting the kids to leave us alone. the kids faces were taxed with desperation and hunger. for what seemed like an eternity, they would not let go of the car at any cost. as we finally pulled away, i wanted to gouge myself.

haiti proper (pt 1)

2010-03-29T21:15:00.000-07:00

we hit haiti around 3pm today. 6am wakeup call in santo domingo. henry's (half of our travelling couple) cousin's relative picked us up at hotel to deliver us to bus. honestly, without the help and hospitality of henry's family, i don't know how we'd do this. the bus was a "just over its' life goin to atlantic city" bus. at first the plush seats were kinda mack, but once 3 hours in you realized 'recline' was the only position, it got old and uncomfortable. the dominican countryside is pretty amazing, lush to desolate, & back again. i never realized how mountainous it was (even more so in haiti). as it inches closer to our destination, it gets poorer and poorer.

the border crossing mile or so was our first taste of semi-chaos. a trade exchange/people mover melange where at first glance the top selling stock seemed to be styrofoam containers. closer watch saw awesomely painted shortbuses filled with humans and anything you could think of on top.

i have to say, the post border cross was amazing. giant limestone deposits to the left and a striking caribbean inlet to the right. our fears of highjacking (yeah, probably stupid) were assuaged with all of the traffic on the one lane (mostly dirt) highway. there is ton of action in and out, though as we've learned, barely enough. i'll expound later.

we arrived in cottard, henry's former home. we met henry's cousin closter. an amazing man ... more later as well. we had a great dinner with at his mother's house, and many discussions about haiti in general after, but the image that will stay with me is the photo i posted. we've barely seen any of the devastation yet, we're due to tour port au price tomorrow, but this is an image of a psuedo tent camp a hundred yards from where we're sleeping. it's about 75 tents made of sheets. this is where many of the people of cottard come to sleep at night, simply because they're too afraid to sleep in their houses after the earthquake.

haiti bound

2010-03-25T21:39:00.000-07:00

earlier tonight we dropped off the boy with his grandparents. tomorrow morning, g and i head for haiti and maybe a new (adopted) kid. it's gonna be a clusterfuck, that we know. we know of an assemblage of help for us down there, and we're going down with wide eyes, high hopes, 100 pounds of supplies, and an interest in trying to do whatever the hell we can to help in the short time we're there. little frightened about leaving our son in the states, with us in a potentially dicey area, but with hope that we can make some sort of difference in one or hopefully more lives. laptop in hand, hope to post while there. if nothing else, the trip of a lifetime.

the mamalizza challenge

2010-02-21T14:54:00.000-08:00

mamalizza issued a challenge to post a picture of your marriage represented by food.

vegetarian ... with benefits

2010-02-15T19:40:00.000-08:00

i technically became a vegetarian (the seafood eatin kind ... aka, vwb) in late december. my last meal non-veg meal was the vaunted fried chicken at roberta's. it was pretty good. not the ultimate sendoff i thought i was in need of, but looking back it was no big deal. not eating meat has been a walk in the park. i don't miss it at all, if anything, it's occasionally a pain in the ass trying to find something to eat. you're out running errands starving and u don't realize how many friggin versions of chicken wendy's has without a single veggie option. plus sides include a more fully stocked fridge. minus, a WAY fucked up stomach for a few days (which honestly was well into and could have been a number of things), and a realization that fake meat pretty much BLOWS (boca= fine, tofu, you gotta work with, but some of that stuff they lay out there for you is ridiculous). planning is key to make this thing work, and once you get the rhythm, it's easy.

one thing i cannot complain about is our menu lately. for v-day we had lobster tails and dungeness crab. in my purchasing zeal, i bought too much and we had left over crab. discovered a recipe today calling for one dungeness. as is the case with many of my first time tries, i totally botched it (the recipe called for a quartered crab, i mistakenly picked it clean), but in the process came up with something pretty great.

Coconut Crab Curry

55 min | 20 min prep SERVES 3

ingredients:
• 2 cups dungeness crab (honestly, i think canned supermarket crab would suffice-- and yeah, i can't believe i just wrote that, but it's a curry after all)
• 1 tablespoon peeled and julienned gingerroot
• 2 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 teaspoon curry powder or curry paste (mild or hot depending on your preference)
• salt & freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon canola oil
• 2 tablespoons oyster sauce
• 3 tablespoons vinegar
• 2 cups thick coconut milk (unfortunately the light coconut milk doesn't go very well with this recipe)
• 2 cups broccoli florets
• 1/2 cup red bell pepper, strips

the work:
1. In a large casserole over high heat, sauté the ginger, onion, garlic and lemon grass in oil.
2. Add the crab, season with salt, pepper and vinegar. Cover and cook for 5 minutes.
3. Pour in coconut milk, stir constantly, then add the oyster sauce and curry powder. Do not cover. Shake the casserole occasionally to distribute the seasoning evenly as well as to avoid the curdling of the coconut milk. Let it cook for about 15 minutes.
4. Add the bell pepper and broccoli, cook for 10 minutes.
5. Adjust the seasoning if necessary.
6. Serve with steamed rice.

reci-please

2009-12-20T18:26:00.000-08:00

decided a few months back to start learning how to cook. these are my stories.

since easing myself into the vegetarian lifestyle (becomes official at the end of the month), i've been struggling with finding good things to make besides cheese quesadillas, and everything seafood (i would rather not live than give up seafood). truth is, i like a variety of vegetables, but after a traditional downhome southern upbringing (cook vegetables until they're reduced to paste), i tend to like everything almost raw-- not the best way to create a meal. since i make most dinners these days-- and am struggling to be a decent cook, i find myself trying to wow potential diners with the "idea" of the meal, and then hamfist my way through to the final product.

googling "vegetarian" is no way to go through life ... but i've found some decent entrees. i stumbled upon this recipe for "vegetarian shepherd's pie w/wild mushrooms" and was instantly smitten. i love mushrooms and the thought of shepherd's pie with the recent turn of the weather sounded great. something with a crust also seemed appealing, as i'd never attempted any pastry dishes (yes, i know, i realized about halfway through prep that not only did the dish not include a crust, but i'd never HAD shepherd's pie ... the blind leading the blind).

a trip to fairway secured the various mushrooms. a testament to how much i love that store is that i went with kid on a saturday afternoon before a major snowstorm, and i still had a blast. i've never experienced gridlock in a grocery store before and it was pretty funny to watch peeps losing their shit.

outside of cutting a shitload of mushrooms, it's a pretty easy recipe. you can also do alot of the prep way ahead of time.

vegetarian shepherd's pie w/wild mushrooms

Ingredients
• 1 (28 oz) can crushed tomatoes .
• 4 c sliced baby portabella mushrooms .
• 2 c grated cheddar cheese or monterey jack cheese .
• 3 c sliced white button mushrooms .
• 3 shallots, peeled & sliced .
• sea salt, to taste .
• 3 tbsps olive oil .
• 2 tbsps grated parmesan cheese .
• 5 portabella mushrooms, stems removed, rinsed, cut in half, then sliced crosswise .
• 1 (2 oz) package mixed dried wild mushrooms .
• ground pepper, to taste .
• 2 c sliced shiitake mushrooms, rinsed & dried, stems removed .
• 5 c leftover mashed potatoes (made with butter & milk) .
• 3 carrots, peeled & sliced .
• 6 celery ribs, peeled & sliced .
• 2 bay leaves

Directions
• Step #1 Preheat oven to 300°F.
• Step #2 In a small pot, heat about 3 c of water to a boil.
• Step #3 Add dried mushrooms & remove this from heat.
• Step #4 Let sit for 30 mins to rehydrate.
• Step #5 Meanwhile, In a large-ish Dutch oven, heat olive oil over med-heat/flame.
• Step #6 Add all fresh mushrooms & cook for about 20 mins, stirring every once in awhile, uncovered, until most of the liquid has evaporated.
• Step #7 Add shallot, carrots & celery & continue cooking for another 5 mins.
• Step #8 Strain the dried mushrooms, reserving the soaking liquid, & add the mushrooms to the pot.
• Step #9 Strain the soaking liquid through a fine mesh strainer to remove any grit.
• Step #10 Add strained liquid to the mushroom mixture.
• Step #11 Stir in bay leaves, tomatoes & one c of water.
• Step #12 Spice up with salt & pepper.
• Step #13 Continue cooking over low heat/flame until carrots are soft, about 15 mins.
• Step #14 Remove from heat.
• Step #15 Taste & adjust seasoning.
• Step #16 The mushroom mix can be prepared up to two days ahead & put in the fridged.
• Step #17 Spread the mushroom mix in the bottom of a 3-quart baking dish.
• Step #18 Cover up with the mashed potatoes & sprinkle with the cheddar cheese & then the Parmesan.
• Step #19 Bake until cheese is melted & pie is heated through, about 45 mins.
• Step #20 Serve as soon as possible.

the end result is somewhat akin to an upside down version of mashed potatoes. but, it's really filling, and if you dig mushrooms, it's the bomb. serve with crusty bread.

some modifications i'll make next time:

• halve the amount of crushed tomatoes. way too much with the tomatoes. you could even take them out altogether
• get rid of the carrots, i don't know why i even put them in. there's few things i hate worse than cooked carrots, maybe replace with fresh corn
• the dried mushrooms are kinda redundant and expensive. don't bother. you've already got enough variety.
• makes way too much. halve the recipe. i'm going to be eating this all week

lesson for me:

a steak on top of this would rock my world. oh well ...

words i know i'll forget someday

2009-11-06T08:33:00.000-08:00

tiger pillow

happy halloween!!!!!!!

2009-10-31T11:37:00.001-07:00

Homicide: Life on the Streets

2009-10-04T00:18:00.000-07:00

all apologies to the wire and sopranos, my all-time favorite show

out of the mouths ...

2009-10-02T12:42:00.001-07:00

my 3-yr old on hearing jazz in music class today. "this music is broken, we need to fix it"

movin on

2009-09-03T23:36:00.000-07:00

startin preschool next week. and thankin "rats" for a great run as his main man. their theme song. long live RATS!

johnny fuckin bravo (aka "hey white boy, what you doin uptown?")

2009-06-15T20:17:00.000-07:00

bout a year ago i was asked by a musician friend if i'd be interested doing a "rock" vocal for a rap group. i'm game for pretty much anything in a recording studio, so ... fuck that, I WAS THRILLED. he knew the guys through a co-worker and let em know i was up for it. they called me and we talked for a few minutes. it wasn't unlike dozens of music experiences i'd had along the way with musicians from different genres ... like a giraffe sharing sex tips with a toaster. no common ground. once an indie rock band i played in was mistakenly booked into a metal bar in rochester. as we played, the people looked at us as if we played some mysterious music from a version of saturn that sucked really bad (i never got it, 'hey kemosabe, me have 2 gtr bass drums, you have 2 gtr bass drums, we play same notes') ... another time, another band played in front of a huge crowd at the legendary shitkicker bar hammerjacks in baltimore. i was the laughing stock of the sound crew as i didn't have a 50-foot guitar cord to reach from my amp all the way to the mike on the massive stage ("ain't you got a wireless set up"?), and of course they refused to lend me one ... admitting to my one-time landlord who played in a dead cover band that i didn't like the dead ... incredulous. this was different though, i'm a pretty big rap fan (metal for example is fun as hell to listen to once every 6 months ... much like looney tunes cartoons). doin a rap session ... on par with going to yanks fantasy camp.

they asked me to come down to their studio and work on it. i explained i had my own studio and would prefer to work out my parts beforehand. they were instantly dubious, not wanting any of their work winding up in another's hands (a recurring theme throughout the process). they finally relented somewhat, after i reminded them they might not even like what I had to offer. i was provided with a sketch of the chorus, and about 16 seconds of beats. i'm not gonna lie, i dove in full force, even though i always knew i was gonna give em what i "thought" rock vocals in rap songs sounded like. i'm a pretty fast worker in the studio (well, i get bored easy), so i was done in about an hour, and i emailed the file. about 10 minutes later, the phone rings. i didn't want to hear it live, so i let it go to voice mail. i still have the damn message. they were apeshit over it. i called em back, & all the sudden the connection was made. i was in, and honestly, i was ecstatic. i didn't think what I'd done was all that, but fuckit, we were talkin like actual human beings and plans were made to do the actual recording.

i arrived at a basement studio in east brooklyn around 7pm. i remember passing a bodega and considering grabbing some water, but didn't. standing at the door, i realized i had NO IDEA who these cats were. for all i knew, they were somebody/nobody/allen funt (er ashton k.). the main dude met me at the door and was pretty awesome. excited i made it. i took that love into the studio where i was met with blank stares. gear small talk went nowhere with the crew, so i stayed on the main dude. we hit it off. he asked if he could be in the vocal booth with me. i said sure.

figuring my AMAZING demo could be replicated in about 3 minutes i set out to shred the place. all out i went. suddenly, the tape (well, computer) stopped. "let's try it again". this was the beginning of a 3-hour journey to the pit of my throat. they didn't want my demo per se, they wanted it EXACTLY. i don't know how many of you are into the "art" of recording (sniff), but there's a thing about that first achievement that's rarely ever equalled. it could be wrapped in tape hiss, hittin a missed note and havin the tv on behind you, but it captures the essence. i'm not saying this was a masterpiece by any means, but i felt a decent cover version of it would suffice. my mistake. as i stumbled further down the trail of incompetence, they felt a lesson in rhythm was also in order. BOOT CAMP ... for the next hour i was face to face with the main dude havin him lap me w/ my part. he couldn't sing, but he could groove his ass off. me, i was the whitest man alive & gettin paler by the minute.

recording again, i was lost. over and over and over. somehow, they were finally happy with one take. i was overjoyed, i was that kenyan dude at the end of the marathon, and thirsty as all hell. asked for some water. i was offered the entrails of a sports drink ("it's got electrolites and shit") and a joint. i figured i was done anyway and nodded nah. "alright, let's do another one" came from the control booth. i figured they wanted a safety track and gave em one. i was wrong, i had to do about another 12, all EXACTLY the same ... and that was for the first part of two. at the end of three hours, with barely a lick of spit in my mouth, i finally got back into the booth. dead to rights. main dude was his generous self, promising to have me sing at their shows and reap the benefits ... other dudes ... staring. i got outta there (without a recording, of course) ... and i still had no idea who they were.

all in all, one of my fave experiences. during BOOT CAMP, main dude shared some of the rhymes, and i was pretty impressed. to end this, i received a copy in the mail today. i sound weird (all 12 of me), they sound cool, and i am praying to god my wife has to hear this from all her kids ipods daily at work! me walking through her school doors kenny powers style!!!!! ... and i still have no idea who they are.

here's the tune (no idea if it's been released):

demo - demo

artland

2009-06-14T21:31:00.000-07:00

mama g had an idea for an art center in the living room, i was a little apprehensive, cuz i wasn't sure if i wanted the living room to be a kid playroom, but then i looked around at the 5 billion toys and realized that ship sailed a year ago. with that, i dove in.

a trip to home depot and michael's art's & crafts was all it took. well, that, and putting it together. we knew we wanted to incorporate a blackboard, and this paint pretty much rules.

we wanted a cork section to post his latest masterpieces and this is what we used. available at any art store.

problem occurred when i tried to use the double sided tape it came with. worthless. the panels fell off overnight. i ended up using an ace in the hole, liquid nails, which i used time after time when renovating our house. be careful with it, getting that stuff on yr hands is a bitch to get off.

i had some leftover moulding to frame the project, but we still needed a magnetic board to finish. i priced some boards, but they all were about $20 and wouldn't fit with the scheme anyway. walking around home depot with a magnet, i found some flashing which fit the bill to a tee (for $15 with tons left over).

cutting the stuff is dicey, watch yourself. my metal cutter was "somewhere" in the basement, so i used some garden shears. it leads to sharp edges, but i knew the moulding would cover it up. no harm.

with all that, under $100. about a 4 hour project. voila:

you know you've arrived when

2009-06-02T12:35:00.000-07:00

at afternoon naptime, it only takes 35 minutes of an endless loop of "I LOVE YOU DADDY ... NIGHT NIGHT" blaring through the monitor, before you realize he's actually saying, "hey, i crapped myself ... could i get a little service here a-hole???".

reci-please

2009-05-18T19:26:00.000-07:00

decided a few months back to start learning how to cook. these are my stories.

there's two meals i had never eaten & mythologized growing up, matzo ball soup and chicken and dumplings. i can understand never having matzo ball soup. i grew up in the sticks in the south. i didn't meet a jew until i was in my 20s (did her!), and it was never offered anywhere. honestly, i can't remember how i even learned about it, but it looked incredible. i envisioned the matzo ball having a crunchy exterior and being the most exotic tasting soup ever (this coming from a) one without much of a palette, and b) one who didn't eat soup after age 7-- more on that later). post-college, i ended up in living in DC working for a jewish magazine. i had a mad crush on this girl (didn't do her), and after telling her my incredibly interesting story, she invited me over. props to her, she made a big deal of it, having her grandmother make it. safe to say, i've never been more disappointed in a meal i didn't pay for. gross, barely tasty salt water surrounding a flacid ball of goo. it tastes like what it is, food made for people thousands of years old.

never having chicken & dumplings seems almost sacrilege as a southerner ... like mammy woulda had that on the wood stove once a week. i probably heard about it like most folks, on the waltons. i suppose in retrospect, the matzo incident probably ended my search for C&D, but last week on an arduous trek to find something to cook the family for dinner (ahem, whatever google throws up on my screen first), i found this recipe. i've made a few changes since-- switching from breasts to thighs & adding the crusty bread (which will really make it great), and i used fresh corn instead of canned since it was available. all in all, a pretty tasty meal on a 50 degree rainy day.

bucket list = empty

chicken & dumplings

Ingredients:

-4 boneless, skinless chicken breast
-1 can fat free cream of mushroom soup
-6 biscuits (canned biscuits will do)
-1 3/4 cups of water
-1 tbsp chicken bouillon
-fresh sage
-1/2 tbsp chopped red pepper
-black pepper to taste
-white pepper to taste
-cilantro
-fresh corn
-loaf of crusty french bread

this is another slow cooker thang (IT'S WEDS BEEYATCH!!!). the recipe calls for chicken breasts, but next time as i mentioned, i'm going with thighs. cut the chicken into bite sized pieces. add all of the ingredients except for the biscuits and cook on low for 5-6 hours. add salt, pepper and any other seasonings that you would like. In the last 30 minutes of cooking, turn your crock-pot on high and tear biscuits into 1 inch pieces and add to slow cooker.

serve over crusty bread

bon appetit!

it takes a ...

2009-05-09T11:44:00.000-07:00

it was a scene right outta "reefer madness" ... two dudes flying through the mean streets of middle village blaring 50’s r&b devil music, ~~doin bumps of coke~~ eating french fries from 5 guys by the handful, and safe in the assumption they had the world by the nads. dude 1 couldn't believe he'd finally found a food that dude 2 was insanely crazy about. "more fries!!!" was the battle cry from the back and more fries it was (2 orders from 5 guys = a weeks worth of mcd's). it was literally raining $$$ on this day ... well, until dude one thought he heard something and turned to see dude two turning blue from choking on said fries. situation couldn’t a been worse, at this point we were stuck at a light 2 dozen cars deep/horns screaming with no access to road on either side. panicking, i jumped out and ran to grab him. held him by the stomach face down while piles of fries blew on the ground. suddenly, I was hearing voices. i got immediately angry thinking it was perturbed motorists. looked up to vent and saw people comin from every direction with napkins, offers of help and genuine concern. who knew? … with defcon restored to 5 we offered thanks and headed home. middle village … props!

reci-please

2009-05-07T20:00:00.000-07:00

decided a few months back to start learning how to cook. these are my stories.

with a nod to the parsley thief, i begin posting my trials and mistrials in the kitchen. i love the aforementioned blog ... i don't always understand it ... but i dig the vibe. i don't watch any cooking shows, and I don't have much of a background in cooking (when mom raises 3 boys, learning to cook wasn't on the agenda), but i do love good food. that said, i don't find cooking relaxing, it's stressful, and my wife sits by and laughs as i do it.

it began with a chili recipe a few months back. i tend to start with a something found online and go from there. a chili with wild rice piqued my interest. we have a slow cooker and i'd decided wednesday meals would be slow cooker ones as we were both at work.

Chili

Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 8 hours,
Ingredients:

* 1.5 lb. ground beef
- 1 onion, chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 3/4 cup wild rice
- 14 oz. can diced tomatoes, undrained
- 6 oz. can tomato paste
- 2 (15 oz.) cans kidney beans, rinsed and drained
- 10 oz. can condensed beef broth
- 2 cups water
- 2 Tbsp. chili powder
- 1 tbsp. cumin
- 1 tsp. pepper
- 1 tbsp red pepper

Preparation:
In heavy skillet, cook ground beef until brown, stirring to break up meat. Add onion and garlic and cook for 4-5 minutes longer until vegetables are crisp tender.

Place everything into 4 quart crockpot and stir gently to mix. Make sure wild rice is immersed in the liquid. Cover and cook on low for 8-9 hours until wild rice is tender. Serve topped with sour cream and shredded cheese, if desired. Serves 6.

i've picked up some good tips along the way from retotted (a great cook, btw, just busy as all fuckin hell & needin meals ready when she hits home). one was tantamount, for pedestrian recipes (read: internet), go overboard on spices.

yesterday, i pulled out the last of the chili in the freezer to take to work. my first batch had come out okay. added mushrooms to the 2nd batch for some extra texture. i also went hellbound on the spices. in its orig incarnation it had some kick, but the 2nd batch was pure heat, & i suppose after fermentin in the freezer for 6 weeks, some evil really took hold. i ate it at work yesterday pounding water after each bite and praying no one would come by my desk and spy my teary eyes. the rest of the afternoon & evening can best be described as a cat declawing itself on me insides.

bon appetit!

weegie

2009-04-16T20:38:00.000-07:00

for this current vacation, i decided to do it up olde schoole-parenting style. pics and videos galore. even bought a friggin expensive camera. i travel with it and the video cam, no easy task in NOLA when also manning a stroller (french qtr & marigny = worst sidewalks ever!). i'm documenting every thing i can, and of course, have added the the obligatory "do it again with more feeling!" shot. it's drivin mama (now known as greta fucking garbo) absolutely batshit. hysterical!

"hey, who's your daddy???"

parenting pt. 75

2009-04-11T21:09:00.000-07:00

... you know you've arrived when you, your wife & son laugh hysterically as he pees all over your bed during changing time to pjs ... and then realize three days later you've never changed the sheets ...

rock lesson 1: those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it

2009-03-24T21:25:00.001-07:00

most frequent quote from others, "he looks just like you"

uh oh

a tip of the hat for the ladies ...

2009-02-14T18:48:00.000-08:00

happy valentine's day!

confirm/deny

2009-01-27T10:32:00.001-08:00

back in high school i suffered the ultimate indignity. being turned down for a date. it's the only time it ever happened in my life, not cause i'm some sort of stud, but because immediately i understood rejection and adjusted my sights accordingly. she was at the time, a little out of my reach, but using the same methodology one uses when applying for college (one above, one about right, one that xmastime would later attend), i decided to go for it and was trounced. her excuse even sucked. something about her parents wanting her to study more. determined this would never happen again, i embarked on a spree of sluts, malcontents, and girls trying to piss their boyfriends off. i did quite adequate (read: pretty free most weekends) before settling down with a girlfriend and enjoying 12th-15th grade as a more mature teen/pre-adult (and then my 20s happened). still the sting of rejection was never far from my grasp ... even though i had pretty much forgotten my nemesis had ever existed (we'll call her "eve").

this morning to my shock and surprise, "eve" requested me to be her friend on facebook.

confirm or deny?

parenting pt. 74

2009-01-15T17:24:00.001-08:00

you know you've lost touch with reality when you wonder whether the 5-second rule applies after your son has puked all over your favorite jeans as you leave for work in the morning.

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

2009-01-13T11:39:00.000-08:00

my son, i'm beginning to understand, appreciates my need for direct, cause & effect behavior. sometime this morning, between my changing him into his clothes and us leaving his room (i was folding clothes in the adjoining laundry room for a few minutes while he played), he must have tossed his referee whistle in the crib. this afternoon, after deciding he'd had enough of his nap, he offered a few "DADDY"'s before blowing into his whistle loud enough to stop traffic.

the family stone(d)

2009-01-13T11:35:00.000-08:00

the wife complains that i can never find anything. though i tell her to her face that she's wrong on this, there are a couple of facts i can't dispute. a) i can rarely leave the house without returning at least once to retrieve something, and b) i rarely know where said object is when i return. she has long since ceased being any help with clues, instead perfecting a series of eye rolls and 32 different inflections of "retarded". i secretly like that she attributes it to a massive pot habit*. you can't buy street cred like that.

*sadly, i haven't smoked pot in years-- and never really did.

axiom #37

2009-01-03T08:30:00.000-08:00

shoe size related directly to ...

american idol kizzmyazz

2008-12-30T22:14:00.000-08:00

tha shizzle

we got a lucky ticket

2008-12-12T07:14:00.001-08:00

i noticed something was weird when I loaded the nyc bound bus and sat down. someone was talking a little loud (a rarity on a jersey suburb line). then i smelled a cigarette ...

thick haitian accent: LADY, put outta the cigarette
selma from the simpsons: i'm not smokin!
thick haitian accent: i can see the smoke!
selma from the simpsons: i'm just lightin a lighter. JESUS!
thick haitian accent: it's very disrespectful
selma from the simpsons: look, i've had a stressful day at work and just wanna relax

selma decided to relocate. she sat behind me. i couldn't get a good look at her, but she appeared to be a red heared 40 somethin barfly. talking to herself, she wondered if she could make it all the way cross the GW bridge before she lit up again. then she lit in into "jingle bells, batman smells, robin laid an egg". then she started crying. then she asked me if i knew how long it would take to get to the bridge (5 minutes), then what time it was (5:30) leading to the obligatory, 'you're very nice'. twas then i caught her last call eyes ... yeesh.

then she started to cry again. crawling on the floor and crying ... mumbling about something I couldn't make out. at this point i was trying to figure out what she was on ... smack? coke? maybe just one too many blows to the head??? all of the sudden exhultation ... 'i found it! i found it!' ... "it" was a wad of bills that had fallen under my seat. she began thanking me, and then she handed me a dollar bill. 'you keep this ... i promise i won't ask for it back.' i said no, but she insisted. 'give it to charity or buy a lotto ticket'. then she lit up again and sang the batman song.

if that wasn't a sign, i don't know what is.

tonight's mega millions drawing is worth an estimated $207 mil ... knew you when!

thr new war on terrorism!

2008-12-05T12:32:00.000-08:00

spotted on a neighbor's bumper.

my hometown in two minutes

2008-11-23T17:21:00.000-08:00

found this gem while surfing ...

thurs, 10:11pm

2008-11-13T19:10:00.000-08:00

fast times at ridgememont high on HD. sweet!

gilly (nee nee mix)

2008-11-12T22:53:00.000-08:00

mantra

2008-11-09T08:01:00.000-08:00

"eat, watch george, apple juice"

vote aqui

2008-11-04T10:24:00.000-08:00

ominous looking lines broke apart once i found an election official that told me the location of my district booth. that wasn't easy spec w/ g in tow (pictured). lots of people were left standing in an extra long line very confused. i've voted in the same place now for 12 years and have never seen anything like it--especially at 11am.

was the boy's first time in the booth. thought it was important he be there. this being an election more about the future than any i've ever been a part of, and my first national election as a dad. i've previously given my endorsement, so i got nothing to add in that dept. after a hellish 8 years, i'm not feeling nervous, not feeling particularly vindictive, i'm feelin a calm, a relief ... and i'm just waiting to exhale.

worst tv show EVER

2008-10-31T07:46:00.001-07:00

2 years in, i feel pretty confident with the statement. pretending the pink-head is natalie portman didn't even work. sorry little man, the tv also has an OFF button.

MVP

2008-10-21T22:11:00.000-07:00

the constanza award goes to ...

my laziness, or was it my busy-ness(?) allowed xmastime to beat me to a corporate bathroom story. but i digress.

sometime over the last 3 months a lighting timer was installed in our work bathrooms. basically, if no one's in the bathroom for awhile, the lights shut off. it trips on movement. i'm guessing 15 minutes.

last week i walk into a dark bathroom. always nice. you got the place to yerself. i'm in there for a couple minutes when all the sudden from one of the stalls comes a cough ...

hee haw salute!!!

wtf?

2008-10-20T13:20:00.000-07:00

does it piss anyone else off that time-warner cable now defaults to NY1 every time you turn on the tv? i'm a big fan of the 1, but it gets friggin old EVERY time you turn the damn thing on ... i'm just sayin ...

The Child as a Social Agent

2008-10-18T07:33:00.000-07:00

What better way to break down the anonymity of the men's locker room than by having your boy loudly point out (and point to) all the men's "pee pee's" around you? I made at least three life-long gym buddies this morning after swim class.

is?

2008-10-13T20:53:00.000-07:00

anybody else creeped out by this?

not that there's anything wrong with it

2008-10-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

morning. columbus day. body shop next door.

we (had) a new mouse

2008-10-09T22:01:00.000-07:00

POP!!!!!!

1:01AM. funeral arrangements to follow.

we got a new mouse

2008-10-08T19:53:00.000-07:00

and it's not a big deal.

this summer was unreal. a rat infestation in the basement. we don't live there, so it wasn't cataclysmic, but it's hard to deal with, since i do alot of work on the house down there. we have had some incursions inside-- mostly that g had to deal with (will let her tell the stories). living on an industrial block brings construction ... which brings rat displacement. having a dog and a backyard means many open back door occasions (see 'easy entry'). we laid many traps. killed at least 6 big uns.

can't say how many times rats dropped from the ceiling when i was working in the basement. creepy. i was forced to (and props to the rats/"remy" for forcing me to do this) empty the basement and cut the entry points out. i can never be sure where they got in. we have a 6" alleyway between us and the next building, and that seemed to be the culprit. i had to cover the exposed parts of the the basement with rat wire-- stapling and at times mortaring the wire. the work was done and i then realized the worst. the inmates were in for good, whether in or out of wire, but they couldn't escape into the house. the hatch to the basement was secure. rat poison was put out.

then hell.

over the course of the next 2 weeks rats were dying. i only found one (most were trapped in outer hidden parts), but for 3 weeks we had an amityville horror infestation of GIANT flies. you get the idea. in the mornings pre-boy wake up i could kill 40 easily. luckily, open up the place, they skated.

and then it was over ... moved stuff back into the basement. relentlessly looking for droppings. none.

so tonight, little mouse that i watched crawl in through a door that should normally be closed. i had to smile, yer minutes are dwindlin.

dear mr. google,

2008-10-08T10:17:00.000-07:00

i look forward to the challenge. game on!

Google has adapted its free email service to help those letting loose after a few evening cocktails or succumbing to lovelorn moments from firing off messages they might regret in the morning.

Mail Goggles software comes to life after dark and on weekends, when altered states of mind are more probable, and requires that five simple math problems be answered correctly in less than a minute in order to send a Gmail missive.

"Sometimes I send messages I shouldn't send," Gmail engineer Jon Perlow wrote Monday in a website posting announcing the optional new feature.

"Like the time I told that girl I had a crush on her over text message. Or the time I sent that late night email to my ex-girlfriend that we should get back together."

Gmail users can adjust their email settings to activate the Goggles feature and dictate the times it is active.

"It will check that you're really sure you want to send that late night Friday email," Perlow wrote.

"And what better way to check than by making you solve a few simple math problems after you click send to verify you're in the right state of mind?"

why i love this city (halloween mix)

2008-10-07T20:48:00.001-07:00

our local ghetto grocer is makin a play for trick-or-treaters. we like.

44 baby!!!!!! (happy bday to me mix)

2008-09-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

why i love this city (green acres mix)

2008-09-24T21:03:00.000-07:00

queens county farm museum. weekdays the place is EMPTY. sheep, goats, bunnies, ducks, chickens, peacocks, a bull!, farmers, tractors, and they were loadin in tons of rides for the halloween extravaganza. a BIG ass maize maze!

so there

2008-09-19T21:29:00.000-07:00

somewhere along the line i developed this reputation as someone that gets along with people. "the peacemaker" as my crazy-ass right wing (read: lawyer) best man at my wedding put it. i've never really understood why i got the tag. i think shit about everyone, have made fun of the less fortunate in my head at least twice this week, and yes virginny, i once kicked my dog in broad daylight.

when does

2008-09-17T22:05:00.000-07:00

your block just turn unbearable?

we bought our place 3 summers ago. hey, we bought a house in a residential enclave (MY real estate term) on an industrial block, we didn't go into this blind. in that time, we've waged war on:

-the auto paint place next door that sprayed paint fumes into our backyard (won).
-the meat market up the street that poured bleach down the street (won).

this past summer our neighbor (who has done very well by us) to the left leased his place to a metal factory. it's been non-stop banging from 7am til 6pm seven days a week. it's like nighttime london in the '40s. a friggin bombardment. only solace is that it hasn't bothered the boy sleeping. the DEP has done wonders for us so far. a new battle begins this week.

friday dance party (birthday edition)

2008-09-12T12:27:00.001-07:00

featured album: the fleshtones "take a good look"

garage lifers' latest. real fun record, produced by my bud ivan.

boy's pick: "shiney heinie"
dad's pick: "les temps dira"

happy 2 gilly!!!

OMFG!!!

2008-09-09T21:44:00.001-07:00

holy christ, i didn't realize it until now. the boy carved the US minus TX and FLA. xmastime has made his mark!!!! GORE wins!!!! ... "down goes bush!!! ... doooooooown goes bush!!!!"

reason 243 why we won't eat (update)

2008-09-09T16:14:00.000-07:00

back from 2 year checkup. did the numbers:

75-90th percentile height
10th percentile weight

ladies and gentlemen

my son the martian

2008-09-09T09:43:00.001-07:00

bought the boy a "bikehat" (his term) after buying a used, but great condition "bikeseat" (mine) at flying squirrel. jesus, i just did one of those link things to a kid's store.

anyway, picked this helment up at paragon (read the friggin yellow pages). was the smallest they had and was still too big. adding extra padding (included) did the trick. we've been biking all over. helluva an upgrade to pushing the stroller, and he really digs it ... and i've only forgotten to strap him in two okay three times.

reason 243 why we won't eat

2008-09-09T08:19:00.000-07:00

with the count running down til friday's 2nd birthday, the boy's eating habits continue to make the local little hipster's wince ... today's excuse, he chewed a boat out of his waffle ... 'who eats boats???'

boy 1
daddy 0

my unbelievable wife

2008-09-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

i visited her school today. it's all here in her blog. the 10 minutes i spent there watchin those kids was alternately the greatest thing i've ever seen and supremely mind-jarring. i'm without words thinking about the time and patience she and those teachers give, and the thoughts of what it must be like to be the parents of those kids ... and on another level, just what those kids see and feel.

op/ed

2008-08-28T20:52:00.000-07:00

i voted for john kerry in '04. first time i'd voted for a democrat ... yeah, i'm one of those pricks who always went nader (get over it gore ... YOUR fault). i'm cynical as hell, hate the "crossfire" element that's permeated politics and government for as long as i can remember, and wasn't a (bill) clinton fan. that being said, i dig this country, and i've hated the fuck outta the last 8 years. i've got a brother who did 2 tours in iraq ... that pisses me off. i don't hate mccain, i just don't think he's where we're headed ... and i think he's gonna take some lumps he probly doesn't deserve, but, you're running, nobody made you.

for the first time in my life i've got someone i want to tell my kid, ... "he's gonna be the next president". what a speech. i'm abuzz thinkin about the inauguration.

this is weird and totally foreign to me. i'm fucking excited ... i (finally) like a politician. i look at the obama family and think (my creepy michelle crush aside), that's what i want america to look like. i (finally) imagine kids i run into daily seeing a prez they can relate to.

there ... i said it ...

the g spot endorsement. i hate this shit.

anyone else ...

2008-08-28T20:07:00.000-07:00

see that red dot that was flashing off the window to obama's left about 10 minutes in??? yeesh

local hero

2008-08-28T19:33:00.000-07:00

click for larger image

shit grandparents do (when you aren't lookin) pt 1

2008-08-21T20:43:00.001-07:00

as always, forced to use my stock response ...

"alright pop, walk me through the best case scenario again???"

mister friggin rogers

2008-08-03T23:13:00.000-07:00

creepy? yes ... effective? yesyes

what's the protocol?

2008-08-01T12:48:00.000-07:00

abandoned toys in the playground (presumably just being ignored at the time by their owner)? lil man has become obsessed with bikes, scooter, big wheels etc. there's always one to three on any given visit. most times he plays and with them til he's done or the owner kid comes and gets it and it's not an issue, but lately i've had some paranoid parental types grab the toy and give me cross looks. WTF? did i act as if i was stealing your shitty fake bike?

you're on my list if ...

2008-08-01T12:47:00.000-07:00

you lock yrself in a bathroom stall to take a piss standing up

things i learned today at work

2008-07-28T21:11:00.001-07:00

it is inappropriate to show a dog's penis in a major celeb tabloid mag

our boy loves (spoken)

2008-07-23T21:15:00.000-07:00

alphabetical order (let's not start a war)

apple juice
bus
bye bye (add name)
cawlie (his cousin karli)
cereal
daddy
(the always popular) EAT!
edie
EDDY! (our dog loretta)
granma
hi
INRI!!! (his bud henry)
(the omnipresent) JUICE!
mama
nee nee
no (of course)
pa pa
pop pop
rats (greg)
UP! (which means up or down)

-will add more

my dad (pt. 1)

2008-07-16T20:07:00.000-07:00

to put it lightly, bein a dad is a mindfuck. you revisit every single pivotal event in your life (and many inconsequential) ... repeatedly. you want to right past wrongs in yr life with your son, blow up the great points, & try to finish things you never did. for better or worse, from here on out, i'm living a dual life.

we had our ups and downs when i was growin up. took us a while to get to where we are now. not a perfect place, but it works. it's funny, cause when i think of my son, i can't imagine a time where we aren't the closest 2 people on the planet (yeah, i know, call me in 12 years).

my dad called me a couple weeks back about seeing tony bennett in asbury park after a trip up here. interesting, cuz we rarely talk music. hipped me on the fact that tony recorded "for once in my life" before stevie wonder did. a fact that's pretty much inconsequential to me, but cool to know. thanks.

what's funny is my dad, who was pretty much unstoppable in his quest to get me to quit playing music for a while, actually seeded the germ in my head at a very early age.

the facts:

-was a traveling salesman. took me on a sales trip and asked me the unthinkable question in hampton, VA at age 9 or so, "you want to go see james bond or james brown?"

-took me to see the jackson five ... integration was WAY late in VA. ended up buying all my new black friends popcorn. said the classic line, "how many new friends you got?"

--unbelievable record collection. moved from a suburb to the country at age 11. for some reason i was left alone at home most sundays. discovered presley (main attraction for about 2 years ... can still remember the day i went to lankford's and bought the sun sessions). i learned the beatles, hendrix, the who, willie nelson, waylon jennings, johnny cash, emmylou, hank sr. & jr., glen campbell, tompall glaser, ry cooder, don williams, etc.

-saw buddy holly at some chitlin circuit joint. saw lou rawls in the '60s as one of only 2 white guys there. got an autograph from elvis at a concert in '57.

-sent me a pic of him, leon spinks, and (then unknown and spinks bodyguard mr. t) from a dancefloor in vegas.

recent phone call:

"you got a gig tonight, right?"

week of firsts

2008-07-11T11:40:00.000-07:00

this week:

first movie: wall-e w/ manny, luke, dani & mamaliza
first day of preschool: tuesday, we're still waitin for the separation anxiety to kick in. aces.
first carnival ride: w/ mama spinning top to giant bug to ferris wheel

random journal entries

2008-07-10T19:33:00.000-07:00

10/31/07

... lil g's 2nd halloween. mama made him the most badass vegas elvis suit! he took his first step 2 days ago. literally just one step, but g and i were both there to see. beautiful! ...

happy father's day, well happy 5/22

2008-07-10T19:16:00.000-07:00

lil g and i were sittin around. i'd been trying to teach him how to play harp for a while. little dude showed no interest. as we're watchin "mouse" (his name for 'ratatouille') for the 356th time, this happens. literally shot this seconds after he started. you feed me to the lions now? i die with a smile on my face.

greetingz

2008-07-10T18:45:00.000-07:00

medium g suggested i start a new blog. little more (ahem) personal than my other (read "cosby"). here i go ... everybody luvs rrthur