Waiting for the Queen's Pride Parade: A Woman and Boy Stand in the Street in Jackson Heights, New York |
Stones of Erasmus — Just plain good writing, teaching, thinking, doing, making, being, dreaming, seeing, feeling, building, creating, reading
2.6.18
Street Photography from the Streets of Jackson Heights, Queens
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
Photos: Jackson Heights Queens Pride Parade (2018)
I captured a few pictures while participating in the local gay pride parade in Jackson Heights, a neighborhood in the New York City borough of Queens.
A guy with a rainbow flag in front of the United States Post Office in Jackson Heights for the Gay Pride Parade. |
Click the jump to see more photos from the Queens Pride parade.
Labels:
Jackson Heights,
Journal & Rants,
new york city,
photo,
pride,
Queens,
summer
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
28.5.18
Photograph: A Country Store in Ponchatoula, Louisiana (circa 1998)
A country store in Ponchatoula, Louisiana (circa 1998). I was interviewing this lady for a school project. Check out how much money a pack of cigarettes cost: as much as $2.00.
Her tee-shirt reads: "Louisiana Cajun Country" |
A rural gas station and store off of Ponchatoula Highway in Tangipahoa Parish, Louisiana |
Labels:
hammond,
itsyourparish,
louisiana,
louisianatravel,
lovinlouisiana,
onlyinlouisiana,
ponchatoula,
shoplocal,
showmeyourparish,
sunset,
tangipahoa,
thatlacommunity
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
Photographs: Brothers Play Near Galatas Cemetery Road in Madisonville, Louisiana (c. 1998)
A photograph of me with my pet dog Maggie |
I post pictures of my brothers and I playing near Galatas Cemetery Road in Madisonville, Lousiana (circa 1998).
Family Photographs: Brothers in Madisonville, Louisiana
My brothers and I play near Galatas Cemetery Road in Madisonville, Lousiana (circa 1998). That’s our dog, Maggie, in the left foreground — she was a Springer Spaniel mix that went everywhere we went. I miss her still.
I Took These Pictures Using Black and White Film
In these photographs, I am either a Junior or a Senior in high school. I had a camera that I usually carried around with me, and I thought of myself as sophisticated that I used black and white film. It is funny how the way we take photographs has changed so considerably since the advent of digital cameras. I take most of my shots on an iPhone today. However, I still have my Canon SureShot. It is packed away and in storage — but I still own it.
Bygone Days — Look at Us Now!
Looking at these family photographs, it makes me think of how much time my brothers and I spent together, even though we were vastly different. Brad, my older brother, still looks playful and youthful, although he is probably college-aged in this photograph. Brad has had several odd jobs over the years; he still lives in Madisonville — in a house he bought for himself (not too far from where these photographs were taken). Nicholas, the baby, would later grow up to become a soldier in the United States Army and serve two tours in Iraq. He is now a veteran, is married to a woman named Brooke, and has two kids! I turned out to be gay. Was a monk for a spell. Now I am a school teacher, and I live in work in New York City. I go home to visit about once a year.
Labels:
Art & Music,
brotherforlife,
brotherhood,
brotherly,
brothers,
dog,
family photograph,
lilbrother,
louisiana,
louisianatravel,
madisonville,
mybrother,
onlylouisiana,
springerspaniel
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
1.4.18
Robin the Boy Wonder Celebrates His 78th Year As a Costumed Superhero Sidekick
Robin the Boy Wonder Made His Debut in Action Comics On this Day in 1940 |
So, I am a Robin the Boy Wonder fan. Who doesn't like the Boy Wonder? I especially like him in his yellow-cape costume get-up from the 1968 animated television series Batman with Robin the Boy Wonder.
The show aired on CBS and was produced by Filmation Studios. I have no idea which episode from the series this particular GIF originates but maybe one of you knows?
Let me know in the comments section.
Image Source: chuber channel
Labels:
Animated Television Series,
Batman,
comics,
gif,
meme,
Movies & TV,
Robin
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
31.3.18
Listicle: 10 Things I’ll Miss about Brooklyn
So I’m outta Brooklyn.
N.B. You can move out of Brooklyn with the help of a Smart car. #car2go
After packing up the car2go* Smart Fortwo, here is a list of ten things I’ll miss about living in the Sunset Park neighborhood of Brooklyn.
(N.B. The following list is South Brooklyn oriented):
(N.B. The following list is South Brooklyn oriented):
N.B. You can move out of Brooklyn with the help of a Smart car. #car2go
10. Watching cruise ships arrive in New York Harbor from my bedroom window
9. Getting off at the Atlantic Avenue stop in downtown Brooklyn to do some urban exploring
8. Chatting up Peter at Melody Lanes
7. Talking with the handsome neighborhood guys who promenade Fourth Avenue on a Saturday night
6. Taking the express train at 36th Street - a world of wonder awaits
5. Getting my cheap cinema fix at either Alpine or Cobble Hill Cinemas
4. All the fantastic, smart people (whom I consider friends) I shared an apartment within the last eight years - I’m talking about you, boo.
3. Shopping on Eighth Avenue - they’ve got Louisiana boiled crayfish and hot pot. What more could I want?
2. Picking up my patron hold requests and chatting with Coquille at the Sunset Park branch of the Brooklyn Public Library
1. Hanging out with my squirrel friends at the Wash Depot
So — Sayonara, Brooklyn - you’re the fourth largest city in the United States (if you were your own city) - and damn girl, I’m going to miss your style.
Is my list bougie? Inform me in the comments.
*car2go is an on-demand on-the-hour rental car company.
PDF Copy for Printing
Labels:
brooklyn,
cars,
Journal & Rants,
list,
listicle
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
30.3.18
On Knowing Nothing and Why I am Embarrassed that I am a Know-it-All
My worst trait is that I am a know-it-all. I like to know things, and I feel amiss if I am not the one explaining. It’s an embarrassing trait. But I admit it. Awareness is half the battle, right? I like to know things. I am obsessive that way.
Because I am a know-it-all, you’d think I’d be a sore loser. But I am not. I do not like to know stuff, so I can somehow feel superior to others. I just wish to know things and I will gladly listen if you have something new to teach me.
As a teenager, I would get into bitter arguments with my parents about the minutiae of a such-and-such fact. Is a shark a fish? Why does Louisiana have the Napoleonic code? I think my parents thought I was just being a know-it-all. I am pretty sure my mom thought I was arrogant most of the time. I liked to read, and I wanted to find someone to bounce off ideas. When you're a kid, your audience options are limited.
Dicken's Mr. M'Choakumchild in the Age of No Child Left Behind © 2000 Hearst Newspapers |
As a teenager, I would get into bitter arguments with my parents about the minutiae of a such-and-such fact. Is a shark a fish? Why does Louisiana have the Napoleonic code? I think my parents thought I was just being a know-it-all. I am pretty sure my mom thought I was arrogant most of the time. I liked to read, and I wanted to find someone to bounce off ideas. When you're a kid, your audience options are limited.
Labels:
essay,
teacher,
teaching,
Teaching & Education
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
29.3.18
Fish in the Sea (Or, Why I Like Aquariums)
Coney Island Beach back in the day. |
Arthur (as a fish) being chased by a garfish in Disney's The Sword and the Stone (1963) |
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
28.3.18
Lorelei from Superman III (1983) Reads Kant's Critque of Pure Reason
Superman III (1983) |
You can read the above clip from Superman III as a dumb blonde joke writ large or as an insightful riff on philosophy. I am guessing it is the former rather than the latter.
Playing the supposed ditzy lover of the film's villain, Lorelei reveals she is a fan of Immanuel Kant's transcendental philosophy - the eighteenth-century European thinker's idea that he could bring together two schools of thought - empiricism and rationalism. At least that's the general idea of the book Lorelei's caught reading — The Critique of Pure Reason.
Lorelei: How can he say that pure categories have no objective meaning in transcendental logic? What about synthetic unity?
It looks like Lorelei has stumbled upon the truth of transcendental idealism — that things in themselves cannot really be known in of themselves. Or did she?
|
Labels:
blondes,
Kant,
metaphilosophy,
movies,
philosophy,
Superman,
Video & Media,
villain
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
27.3.18
Louisiana Facts and Names of Places
The Louisiana State Seal
The seal lists the motto of the State: Union, Justice, and Confidence |
What is the Meaning of the Pelican?
A mother pelican sits in her nest and protects her children. Maybe you learned in third grade and forgot what the symbol of the pelican is and why is it emblazoned on the seal. While it is true that the Brown Pelican is the state bird, the story has a deeper meaning. I posted on Facebook asking my friends what the pelican symbolizes and lo and behold Basil Burns, a Roman Catholic priest, explains: “The pelican was a symbol of Jesus at one time. It was once believed (mistakenly) that the pelican would pierce its breast and feed her young with her blood -- the parallel is obvious, of course. So it's very much about self-sacrifice! I wonder if we couldn't throw a crawfish in there somewhere, maybe, with a bunch of hungry humans gathered around it?” Yeah. That would be cool, Basil. Let's contact the U.S. mint and put a crawfish on the commemorative state quarter. So, next time you are in the great state of Louisiana, take a photograph of the pelicans that fly around Lake Pontchartrain - north of the city of New Orleans. They are visible in the early evening, right as the sun goes down and you can watch them nose dive into the lake searching for their prey.
Acadia
|
Claiborne
|
Jefferson Davis
|
Rapides
|
Tangipahoa
|
Allen
|
Concordia
|
Lafayette
|
Red River
|
Tensas
|
Ascension
|
De Soto
|
Lafourche
|
Richland
|
Terrebonne
|
Assumption
|
East Baton Rouge
|
La Salle
|
Sabine
|
Union
|
Avoyelles
|
East Carroll
|
Lincoln
|
St. Bernard
|
Vermilion
|
Beauregard
|
East Feliciana
|
Livingston
|
St. Charles
|
Vernon
|
Bienville
|
Evangeline
|
Madison
|
St. Helena
|
Washington
|
Bossier
|
Franklin
|
Morehouse
|
St. James
|
Webster
|
Caddo
|
Grant
|
Natchitoches
|
St. John the Baptist
|
West Baton Rouge
|
Caldwell
|
Iberia
|
Orleans
|
St. Landry
|
West Carroll
|
Cameron
|
Iberville
|
Ouachita
|
St. Martin
|
West Feliciana
|
Catahoula
|
Jackson
|
Plaquemines
|
St. Mary
|
Winn
|
Jefferson
|
Pointe Coupee
|
St. Tammany
|
The following Louisiana places are in more than one county. Given here is the total population for each multi-county place, and the names of the counties it is in.
Arnaudville, pop. 1,444; St. Landry Parish (1,353), St. Martin Parish (91)
|
Delcambre, pop. 1,978; Vermilion Parish (1,438), Iberia Parish (540)
|
De Ridder, pop. 9,868; Beauregard Parish (9,511), Vernon Parish (357)
|
Des Allemands, pop. 2,504; St. Charles Parish (2,095), Lafourche Parish (409)
|
Downsville, pop. 101; Union Parish (82), Lincoln Parish (19)
|
Duson, pop. 1,465; Lafayette Parish (1,292), Acadia Parish (173)
|
Eunice, pop. 11,162; St. Landry Parish (10,930), Acadia Parish (232)
|
Junction City, pop. 749; Union Parish (644), Claiborne Parish (105)
|
Shreveport, pop. 198,525; Caddo Parish (198,034), Bossier Parish (491)
|
Tullos, pop. 427; La Salle Parish (427), Winn Parish (0)
|
Source: American Places Dictionary: A guide to 45,000 populated places, natural features, and other places in the United States.
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
22.3.18
Save Me From Drowning My Creativity
"The Drowning Metaphor in Dreams" - What does it mean? |
I’ve found the courage to write about my past. Looking back, however, is painful. I think the gods were smart when they cursed those who turned back. Orpheus lost his lady when he turned back to look at her in Hades. Some ancient Hebrews turned to salt when they looked back at the smoldering city of Sodom. An old adage, “Never look back,” reinforces the idea that one must push forward. The common turn of advice is, "Don't dwell on the past." Turning back and looking back seem to have negative consequences. But if psychology has taught me anything, it’s the idea that nothing ever truly goes away. It’s there, the bits and pieces, past loves and perceived let-downs. It must be that time - Spring - when that which was dead struggles to come back to life.
Under the Table and Dreaming
Last night, I had a dream. I was witness to a drowning. The scene was a leafy layered lake. A body was found in the water. It was a disturbing dream. Straight out of Hamlet - Ophelia’s been drowned. But after thinking about it for a bit -the dream made sense. I was thinking of drowning too literally. I had to think psychologically. Since I’ve been thinking about the past a lot lately, my psyche has become unsettled. That which was drowned comes to the surface. I guess that’s why another old adage - “drown your sorrows” - seems apt. I’d been drowning my sorrows - which makes sense when I think of my behaviors as of late. Something sunken rises again to the surface. So for me - what’s been unearthed? What has drowned? I feel like I’ve stifled my creativity. And for me to get it back I have to take care of that side of myself. Call it self-care.
Taking Care of the Self — "Self Care, Yes, Momma!"
So it was a snow day. And I took care of myself. And I realized that one major problem I have is creating and planning my weekly classroom activities. Call it lesson plans or whatever. I go to sit and work. But nothing comes out of me. I’m drowned. To come up for air, what do I do? It’s a problem because my success depends on my ability to be creative. If I can’t successfully accomplish that then I’m truly sunk, and sunken. So I’m swimming to the surface, looking to get my magic back. What’s holding me back? Well - for one, the hierarchy of work holds me back. To be free to create you need “a room of one’s own” and inspiration to produce. That’s what I call incubation time. It’s important because without reflecting on my process, I feel like I am running on empty. That’s a self-defeating thought. It’s those thoughts that lead me to feel drowned.
Drawing Upon a Positive Mental Image
So I light upon a mental image of my success - from the past - and I build from there. What’s my image? It’s an image I have from a class I taught - near the beginning of my career - and the students were busy preparing a project - and everyone knew what they were doing. I am holding onto that image and hoping I can recreate that same modicum of "drive" for the last quarter of school. I need to find a project that will give our class a lift. Lift us from the Winter doldrums - to use the Spring as metaphor: put a spring in our step. Hope does spring eternal.
Ayuda, Me!
Do any of you, readers, have any ideas? Help me not drown.
Labels:
creativity,
Journal & Rants,
life writing,
memory
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
21.3.18
How I Learned to Love Solitude and Why I Am No Longer a Benedictine Monk
I am going through old papers, tossing out papers, and boxing up books so I can move out of my apartment on April first.
I realized I could not find any photographs of me as Brother Bede. I used to be a Benedictine monk. But the traces of that life are quickly receding.
Leaving a Monastery
When I left Saint Joseph Abbey - a Benedictine monastery in Saint Benedict, Louisiana - I was twenty-eight years old (and six months). In my life as a monk, I was Brother Bede. I baked bread once or twice a week with my fellow monks, I went to daily prayers, ate with my community at the common table, worked in our college library - and I was a graduate student at the local university. That was nine years ago (and eight months, roughly).
As a monk, you are told: "To work is to pray." So I grew up in this dispensation. We were told that we were monks first. Our work was just something we did as part of our religious identity. If I was baking bread, or if I was studying Latin, I was merely living out my life of prayer and work. I was a monk. So don't complain.
The Life of the Monk
Life in the monastery followed a trajectory. And there were different stages of my life there. Depending on how you count the years, I was first a seminary student - I was called a scholastic. Then I was a postulant, then a novice, then a monk in temporary vows, then a monk in solemn vows - all for a total of ten years.
I had just graduated from high school when I joined the seminary. It's crazy to think that was twenty years ago. In May, I am going to Louisiana to celebrate my high school reunion. But I probably won't visit the abbey where I gave ten years of my life - formative years (if you want to put it that way.)
I fantasize that when I tell people I was a monk, they think I lived in a stone hut, spoke to no one and ate bone stew and hard bread. The truth is my life as a monk was at the same time innocuous and magical. Life follows a scheduled rhythm in a monastery. Vigils, Morning prayers, Mass, Evening prayers, and Compline. Monks were assigned jobs. And for the most part, we went through our day praying, eating together, and performing our tasks.
Why did I Join?
People often ask me why I joined a monastery. What was going through my head? And then they ask me why I left the monastery. And people seem to be pretty curious about the whole process. For me - I wanted to be a priest or a monk from an early age. I can remember pretending to celebrate Mass with Ritz style crackers while my brothers complained (they'd rather play other games). When I was in High School, I was very much into Catholicism - and I made it pretty well known that I wanted to join the seminary when I graduated.
Read more about why I became celibate after the jump . . .
Saint Joseph Abbey Church in St. Benedict, Louisiana |
Leaving a Monastery
When I left Saint Joseph Abbey - a Benedictine monastery in Saint Benedict, Louisiana - I was twenty-eight years old (and six months). In my life as a monk, I was Brother Bede. I baked bread once or twice a week with my fellow monks, I went to daily prayers, ate with my community at the common table, worked in our college library - and I was a graduate student at the local university. That was nine years ago (and eight months, roughly).
As a monk, you are told: "To work is to pray." So I grew up in this dispensation. We were told that we were monks first. Our work was just something we did as part of our religious identity. If I was baking bread, or if I was studying Latin, I was merely living out my life of prayer and work. I was a monk. So don't complain.
The Life of the Monk
Life in the monastery followed a trajectory. And there were different stages of my life there. Depending on how you count the years, I was first a seminary student - I was called a scholastic. Then I was a postulant, then a novice, then a monk in temporary vows, then a monk in solemn vows - all for a total of ten years.
I had just graduated from high school when I joined the seminary. It's crazy to think that was twenty years ago. In May, I am going to Louisiana to celebrate my high school reunion. But I probably won't visit the abbey where I gave ten years of my life - formative years (if you want to put it that way.)
I fantasize that when I tell people I was a monk, they think I lived in a stone hut, spoke to no one and ate bone stew and hard bread. The truth is my life as a monk was at the same time innocuous and magical. Life follows a scheduled rhythm in a monastery. Vigils, Morning prayers, Mass, Evening prayers, and Compline. Monks were assigned jobs. And for the most part, we went through our day praying, eating together, and performing our tasks.
Why did I Join?
People often ask me why I joined a monastery. What was going through my head? And then they ask me why I left the monastery. And people seem to be pretty curious about the whole process. For me - I wanted to be a priest or a monk from an early age. I can remember pretending to celebrate Mass with Ritz style crackers while my brothers complained (they'd rather play other games). When I was in High School, I was very much into Catholicism - and I made it pretty well known that I wanted to join the seminary when I graduated.
Read more about why I became celibate after the jump . . .
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)