All my love and thanks for all the places we've been, crises we've survived, children and grandchildren we've loved...
...and your great patience in teaching me too many things to list...what I've learned from your pleasure in sharing with everyone who comes within your range.
All of us look forward to many more June tenths with you--
most especially yours truly ...
Flipping through images in my iPhoto file (favorite thing about my Mac), I come upon images from birthday lunch for my 75th last August. I meant to blog on how it felt to be "feted" by a group of strangers.
Did I enjoy it? Absolutely. Were the people my age or older? It was a mix at my table, mostly women but more men than I'd expected. Must have been 100 there for lunch at the Lenox Hill Senior Center. Got that? The invitation to celebrate this landmark day (pictures here from the event) came about because I had joined the Center back in 1998. And never returned.
Backstory. Deep into kitchen composting as an art form, I'd applied for a small grant from the Puffin Foundation. The idea was to form a group of seniors into a Kitchen Compost Troupe. We'd celebrate the 2001 closing of Fresh Kills, home of the world's largest garbage dump on Staten Island. Each of us would have nurtured my patented invention, "WormWare," world's smallest kitchen composter.
Of the several ways I devised to gather such a group together, I visited Lenox Hill Senior Center. I spoke with a social worker about making a future presentation on "Composting in Manhattan." She suggested that I have lunch that day and get a measure of the participants. Readers, I joined a senior center.
That was a jolt. It was very personal--unlike teaching a class in Baltimore at an "Eating Together" program in my fifties--this was about me at 66. Not ready, too soon, I thought. The grant came through but my plan changed after writing a second grant. "This Dirt Museum: the Ladies' Room," was an interactive installation at Queens Botanical Garden in 2001.
I never returned to the Lenox Hill Senior Center. Well, they were all the way over on the east side of town where I rarely go except to museums. Their knitting group was not as, how would you say it, "up-to-date" as the ones I attended. The food was very institutional and I felt uncomfortable about it's small one dollar price. This was not me. At that moment, aside from reluctance to see myself as one of them, I hit the social class issue. Senior centers in many cities have been established for people with limited resources. In New York, their financial support comes from non-profits working with the aging and the City Council.
Fast forward to 2008. After all my years of neglect--I did carry the membership card in my wallet for years-- Lenox Hill was gracious enough--to send me an invite to their monthly Birthday Lunch. Had I been asked in other years (I forget much these days)? I decided to take them up on their offer.
I really enjoyed myself, Ron too but he's less critical than I. Several of my lunch companions were working seniors. One woman in public relations wanted to connect with my westside Democratic club because she said it seemed more active in the Obama campaign than her eastside group. She also thought knitting Condom Amulets was amusing and a smart way to promote safe; the actress sitting next to her agreed.
Having heard that there was a national a move to "update" senior centers. In New York City the Mayor had big plans to make them more "health-oriented" and reduce their funding. On the way out I spoke with the two social workers running the program. Things were not good they reported. In December, Mayor Bloomberg was resisted in his efforts, with strong opposition by our Council President, Christine Quinn. Elsewhere from Wellesley, Massachusetts to Los Angeles, California, it's evident that denial about aging takes many forms in addition to my own reluctance.
Ron and I will soon move into a continuing care retirement community in Portland, Oregon. Besides accepting it to myself, I have come out to anyone who will listen that it feels right to describe myself as "elderly." Yes, more attitude adjustments lie in ahead.
[This post in appreciation of two this week at TGB on aspects ageism and especially the comment by Tamar at Only Connect that followed the first post.]
What happens when people buy media simply as a "product" to be manipulated for earnings? Earlier this month David Simon ("The Wire" & "Homicide: Life on the Streets") and former police beat reporter on The Baltimore Sun talked with Bill Moyers on the sad state of that paper and newspapers in general in the U.S. You can read it at this link from the Moyers blog. From Citybizlist Baltimore E - NEWS (arrived as email but could not find on web)… "Layoff notices comes as Tribune slashes 18 senior editors and newsroom managers on Tuesday and Wednesday without warning. The move comes a day after Tribune fired 18 senior editors and newsroom managers on Tuesday and Wednesday without
warning. Many of the editors and managers, who are not members of the
newspaper guild, were ushered out of the newsroom by security guards. "Tribune,
through careless management practices, has saddled itself under $13
billion in debt and now Baltimore is paying a price," said Cet Parks, Executive Director of the Washington-Baltimore Newspaper Guild. "Tribune is siphoning good jobs from Baltimore and sending work that talented editors, reporters, photographers, copy editors and designers have done here to its home base in Chicago. That is not right." Tribune
plans to lay off the 40 newsroom employees by May 27. Targeted
employees, who include four columnists, photographers, critics and copy
editors, received hand delivered letters Wednesday afternoon signed by
Monty Cook, senior vice president
and editor. Also, in the last two weeks The Sun has laid off seven
employees in other departments including advertising and customer
service. Since Tribune acquired The Sun in 1999, the newsroom staff has been cut by more than 60 percent to currently 148 employees from roughly 420. 'While
we understand that media companies, especially newspapers, are reeling
from declining advertising revenue, shrinking circulation and a
year-and-a-half of recession, we believe Baltimore needs a metropolitan
paper that covers the important events in the region," said Angela Kuhl,
Guild Unit Chair who works at The Sun. It is imperative that Baltimore
maintains a newspaper that brings people news, exciting and provocative
stories and enriches the lives of all who live here.' "
BALTIMORE, Md.,
April 29, 2009 - Members of the Washington-Baltimore Newspaper Guild
said yesterday that Tribune Co. is bent on gutting what was once one of
America's great newspapers after 40 newsroom employees, or 20 percent of the staff, received layoff notices yesterday.
We first noticed it earlier in the week...new guy named by Obama administration. A mention on the Yahoo news. "Who Is Ron Bloom?" the Wall Street Journal's blog queried on Monday.
Time magazine called him "Obama's Car Non-Czar." You see, this one is 20 years younger than mine, not from Brooklyn. Similarities? Both dress casually for meetings but my Ron Bloom likes to knit during his.
Yesterday there was more inside the front section of the ever-thinner New York Times.
I've always told him to be more formal about his name, really, it's Ronald.
People in academe would ask if he was the creator of "Bloom's Taxonomy" Not even close.
These are pictures of my Ron Bloom. Top photo, ten years ago in Mexico--the other two as he appeared recently, grandfathering in Portland, Oregon.
The knitter/weaver/spinner--formerly Chair of Home Economics (a very different sort of economy than the one in the news) at Morgan State University And my feminist spouse.
He is not, I repeat, the one who has been appointed to save the nation from its car sickness. He has been driving Toyotas for 20 years.
UPDATE: Thanks, Hattie, links now working.
Specifically, all I wanted to know about snow in Portland, Oregon, I now know.
Is it more challenging than Portland, Maine, lavishly pictured at Time Goes By? Ronni Bennett has a more photogenic cat, and also knows how to use this old tool.
The shovel (we are renting a house across the street from our family) is one of the reasons we exchanged ours in Baltimore for a New York apartment--that and the slate roof, the plumbing. It was invigorating to be reminded of our not-so-distant past as homeowners--plus stairs to climb again. All of it gave my Elderexercise pedometer a bit of necessary nudging from chairbound inactivity. [That's TypePad's artful arrangement of the stairs.]
There are people laughing about this. "Why not go somewhere warmer?" I was asked. I'd explained this was a good time for my grandson's school schedule and, anyway, it was not as cold here as New York. Hattie, who now lives in Hawaii but knew freezing times in Portland from ear
lier years here
,
had tried to tell me. I think she arched an eyebrow when we met in Portland in the Fall.
Such a lovely day, lunching outdoors at Pearl Bakery. We'd met up with Ron after a long coffee at the cafe in Powell's Books. It was a quiet weekday, the usual assorted crowd of readers, bikers, people like us. This space is a favorite of mine--unpretentious, few drink selections. It is all about reading in a quiet space. Kind of old-fashioned.
Today's crowd at the entrance to that same Powell's on Burnside resembled a mall. Parents and children (we were with Zach, our six year
old grandson) broke out of 7 days of snowboundness, stuffed the aisles. Public school children here have already experienced a shortened school year. Portland, for all its charm, does not adequately fund public services--education, social services. Like New York City, it is controlled by a non-urban state legislature.
Every morning we do "school" with Zach. Along with his parents, we hope to make up for his partial education. In November school met only for two weeks. Doors were closed the entire week of Thanksgiving.
A comment on family photos--mine and others--was a reminder that it had been too long since my last visit to Marja-Leena Rathje. She described finding leaves pressed in a book, showed how sharply they scanned--once she decided to save them. The post title, "3D Scanning Techniques," did not do justice to the images produced.
She had come upon the idea of saving these objects by scanning them and discovered that leaving the lid of the scanner open produced a black background. Commenters visiting wanted details on the type of scanner, dpi number.
Baltimore 1991 Photos/slides were the accepted way to save images of neckpieces I'd started making a couple of years earlier.
Photocopying machines had been around for a while and small printing companies began to offer that as an alternative to letterpress. The idea of using a photocopier was appealing. Perhaps it evolved from my having a black and white copier in my home, wanted to try color.
There were no scanners, so I had to take my pieces and drive somewhere. Well, you had to drive everywhere anyway. It began as a simple notion of creating a different image of the work. I added fabric backgrounds, as in the picture at the top. Next clear plastic sheets or plastic wrap, used to protect the glass, gained their own reflective place, 
weathered shells (the focus of the neckpieces), even hair. 
While a member of Resurgam (now defunct), a co-op gallery in Federal Hill, a waterfront neighborhood, I met Jimmie Miller, longtime artist in many media. It was a hospitable place for me to get started, be in a couple of group shows. Jimmie and I decided to have a show together on our own.
Fractals was the name he gave his large, intricate 
mixed-media pieces--oil, pastel. "What was a fractal?" I asked. A generous and patient man, he explained the idea of "geometry of the rough..making order of disparate things."
It occurred to me that my color-copying had a similar sensibility and name them "Xractals" to describe this electronic print-making. Since Xerox was the predominant copy machine at the time, that's the source of the "X" in my invented name. Vintage stores were filled with used frames, Ron made mats, and I included several in our show, "Fractals & Ceremonial Neckpieces."
Already frail then, Jimmie Miller died at 71, three years ago. Too soon.
We opened the car doors--his and mine. Whack! It was 105 degrees downtown in downtown Charm City last Saturday afternoon. Walls of heat marked an earlier, 20th century entry into Baltimore not far from here...in another car, August 1969. I was eight months pregnant and the faucets and toilets in our rented place only delivered hot water. To be fair, the city has lovely seasons--crisp Fall and glorious floral Spring.
Twelve years ago, the children gone, work done, never fully integrated into this southern city, we returned to Manhattan. We returned to see how Lisa Anne Auerbach, an artist known to me through knitting, had transformed my "Knit a Condom Amulet" zine to become part of her installation, 
The Tract House.
She collected a sizeable group of "lifestyle tracts" from others like me who had something important they wanted to say to the world. Located in a storefront on 123 Saratoga Street, it is a few blocks away from the larger exhibit at the Contemporary Museum, "Cottage Industries."
While we looked over the tracts, collected them as everyone is encouraged to do, a young couple walked in. They were students
from the nearby culinary school, were quite taken with the full table--ranging from a high school student's anguished, "I Hate Baltimore" to "You No Longer Have To Throw Your Holey Garments Away!" to "Save the Beans." And so much more including Lisa's own D.D.I.Y. manifesto arguing, "Don't Do It Yourself." You have until August 24 to see for yourself (open Wednesdays through Saturdays).
Lisa Anne's intricate machine knitting on the wall highlighted the titles of many of the tracts and added to the obsessiveness of the entire storefront operation.
All that was needed: a sweaty person in formal wear out front demanding the passerby to "Step up...See what we have for you inside (voice drops) to read."
We did our part. I enacted my true self by collecting one of every tract, then reading them all that night in my motel bed. You can do something like that by going to The Tract House link where all are artfully arranged and available for careful reading. Let me know your favorites.
In Federal Hill, another part of downtown, I'd belonged to Resurgam, a
co-op gallery, had my first show in 1989. Discovered it's no longer there; probably
closed sometime in last three years. We drove by the house we'd lived in for 25 years...large and unwanted after the riots of 1968 and discovered it had been sold again and was being expanded. It's the American way even as what we really need to do is contract.
I am always ambivalent about Baltimore, the city's low-rise scale becomes more appealing the longer it's behind me. Would there have been another place to be a feminist therapist in just the way I wanted...to raise children with lots of green space around them...morph into my own art?
Judy Lombardi called one night from Baltimore, "We're coming in this weekend. Can we see you Sunday brunch? My friend Heidi from London--I've told you about her--I'd like to bring along, maybe her kids will be with her. Talk to Carol about people she wants to invite."
Talking with Carol I learn that a couple she knows are making a move to New York similar to ours twelve years ago. Except he's already retired, spouse still working.
Sunday morning, Judy on cell phone. "In Soho, on the way. Where should we get food?" Judy and Carol had n
ever been to Zabar's, definitely the place. Always a treat to have Judy in the kitchen. I remember her making spaghetti and sauce at our house in Baltimore. The tomatoes used were ones she and Ron grew--twenty-eight plants?--in the backyard.
Heidi brought the cerise-colored tulips behind Judy's head and her two children. I thought they were going to be little, but was wrong. They were amazingly mature post-teens. Because she used to do work about HIV/AIDS, Heidi was interested in the Condom Amulets. I showed them the ones still with me and not lounging on the wall at Knitty City. Gave the three of them New York City's 2007 condoms. I have to move theses along because they are dated; the 2008 model has a musical video
Carol is a dedicated bird-watcher and as she looked out our window was rewarded by a visit from a sparrow hawk who enjoys the plentiful community of pidgeons in the neighborhood. She has been a longtime vigiler in Baltimore with Women in Black, a worldwide peace network. We spoke about our frustration, how we were once in the minority. But even with the majority of Americans believing the U.S. should be out of Iraq nothing changes the administration's position.
Susan and Jamie, the recen
t NYC arrivals, brought a delicious flan she had made. 
One of my favorite desserts. We talked about how joining The Transition Network and one of its peer groups might be a useful way to get integrated into the City. As she began to look at Clara Parkes' The Knitter's Book of Yarn sitting on the coffee table, we found a pattern we both liked. "Baby Soft Cardigan" is the one I'd like to make for Zoe in Portland from bright green yarn Ron has spun.
All in all a perfect afternoon for us semi-homebounds and covered all the bases of our concerns. I told Judy how her advice to get a Canon digital camera like hers (SD850) has been a fine addtion to my life in images. Ron even spoke Yiddish with Heidi who originally migrated to England from Germany. Her children, also fluent in German, could understand him but were surprised by the relationship of the languages.
Once upon a time, there were many women's bookstores in the U.S. In Other Words, the spacious Portland, Oregon space pictured above, is one of the few remaining. Self-described as a "community center," it lives up to that with a remarkable range of offerings --performance, book readings, Spanish classes, childbirth education--and a DIY (do-it-yourself) section. 
"Eco-friendly personal products" also have shelf space; I'd heard about but never before seen GladRags, reuseable, cotton menstrual pads.
As I walked around, explored the extensive zine selection, sat comfortably to read and daydream, I was reminded of the halycon days of the 1970s and '80s when enthusiasm for women's literature and women's space led to feminist bookstores coast to coast. There were brave, small places like the tightly-packed storefront in Beloit, Wisconsin, where I once presented a workshop--now gone. And bigger ones, especially Amazon Books in Minneapolis, founded in 1970, still "fostering the strength, wisdom, beauty, diversity of women, girls and their families."
In the heyday of the second wave, I'd drive to Waverly, the left-of-center Baltimore community, to 31st Street Books, a non-profit collective. It was begun by women who thought its street location was a safer name choice than its purpose. Baltimore, sleepy little rusting industrial city, famously racist, was a curious location for feminist thought and action. But there it was in the late 1960s, 1970s.
Women: A Journal of Liberation started there and The Feminist Press.. In 1969, Florence Howe bought a large house in Mt. Washington, another Baltimore neighborhood where housing prices had dropped sharply after the riots following the death of Martin Luther King in 1968. Her partner, Paul Howe, was denied tenure at his university as a result of his anti-war activity. The two of them took The Feminist Press to New York where it thrives to this day a a unique publisher of books by and about women's.
Though we did not know them, Ron and I were told the house was for sale by a friend in the alternative education movement. Even cheaper two years later, 5504 Greenspring Avenue became ours in 1971--all leaky pipes and antique wiring, and more space than we needed. But we found ways to make it our own, raise our children. In 1976, I began my practice as a feminist therapist.
The history of 31st Street Books seems lost but I might have to search more deeply into an online resource I've just found, Women & Social Movements in the U.S. If you or I have our own remembrances of events/people to add, it seems to be possible to do so in the section on The Second Wave & Beyond. We have the women's movement and women's studies programs in high schools and universities to thank for our progress so far. Supporting women's bookstores is an important way to sustain voices not heard elsewhere on issues still unresolved--control by us of our bodies, for example. Readers here can add others--spouse and elder abuse, among many.
And Baltimore, once dubbed, "Charm City," continues to surprise. Red Emma's Bookstore Coffeehouse (a hat tip to Emma Goldman, famous anarchist of the early 20th century) opened in Waverly a couple of years ago. Like Bluestockings in New York City, it' s not on the current list of feminist bookstores, self-describes as "radical," with an emphasis on cultural events. Just as in my recent visit to In Other Words, where I reconnected with Off Our Backs, the feminist journal that once was a newspaper, Red Emma could offer other unexpected small publications and zines. Have to check it out the next time I visit.
[After reading post by Time Goes By, July 30, 2007]
My final photo of a 
favorite view from my kitchen window, autumn, Baltimore, 1995. We had made the decision to retire to New York City.
Why would we do that? Large attractive house, now all to ourselves,
children gone. Elsie Ferguson, artist and shop owner, said we were crazy. From her perspective-- native Baltimorean, began life there, morphed from high school graduate to department store exec to hugely successful entrepreneur in her own business (an inside view of her Something Else shop, listed by Frommer's-- there was no place else. A person could travel elsewhere but Baltimore was home.
Native New Yorkers too, longing to go elsewhere, anywhere but the City, also questioned our decision once we moved here. So, when we started to look into CCRCs (continuing care retirement communities), we were not surprised by edgy responses from peers.
Even in The Transition Network, the organization I belong to for women 50-plus, there has been reluctance to have a conversation about what's next. Thanks to Ronni Bennett at TGB; I urge you to read what she writes. Last summer an effort on this blog met with little response. The coments at TGB indicate many are now ready to look out that window.
[Check out the Kendal Corporation CCRCs, "...integrating Quaker values...fostering continued learning, outreach programs in the field of aging... " Many are connected with colleges. We are particularly drawn to their idea of programs for residents developed by those who live there rather than "activity directors."]
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