A LIBERAL'S EPIPHANY

I found out something about myself that brought me up short and opened a Pandora's box of thoughts and questions.



Preface to this story is I was brought up by raging liberals. In fact, Eugene E. Debs, a presidential candidate (Socialist Party) way back when, offered my father the position of Post Master General when he, Debs, was elected! He never was. There was never a point made of a persons' religion, color, or where they came from. We forgave our Republican friends for their beliefs, we loved them just the same. So an incident last week was devastating for me.



I had noticed down the street on Church Ave. a veritable plethora of ethnic restaurants. I decided to wander down, being that the cupboard was bare. Okay, truth was I was hungry and lazy. I spied a new restaurant that was a purveyor of curries.



Several men were inside eating, reading, just gathering and speaking at the tables. I walked in and all eyes turned toward me and the room went quite.



Now, I would like to think my radiant beauty turned these heads and stilled the room. But, I promised you the truth, so believe me, I know the above thought just ain't so.



So, I purchased some curry, but I wanted more and better taste treats. Across the street was another place that advertised itself as Indian, Bangladeshi, Pakistani/Middle Eastern. Sounded swell to me.



I entered and the same scenario played out, but this time it shook me. Mom, Dad, forgive me for what I am about to write. All of the men and there were only men at both places, were wearing traditional Middle Eastern garb, were bearded and looked like Central Casting had been called to populate the room.



Yes I know in my heart, not a one of those men were/are a threat to me or the nation, but in that split second I felt I had slipped into a "code red alert." I purchased some food and plodded back the 5 long blocks home. Trying to figure out what the hell just happened to me.



Several hours later, after much soul searching, I knew what happened and was ashamed. Let me explain as best as I can and please try not to be too judgemental.



NYC compared to LA is a very small crowded and confined place. LA you drive everywhere and you are alone. The shops, public areas are usually open and widely spaced. NYC, you are jammed into subway cars, crowded streets with towering buildings, shops and people on top of one and another, no easy way out.



NYC, as we all know and have heard; ad infinitum thank President Bush, Vice President Cheney; was the place of an attack that had never been seen before. It rocked the city, nay the country to it's core. I went out of my way, NOT, to go to the site of The World Trade Center. Though I had worked for someone who had died in one of the planes, I really couldn't say I knew him well and the site struck me as something personal, not a tourist attraction.



I was downtown one day and by chance, wound up face to face with the nation's worst nightmare. I turned on my heels and hurried away. A couple of months later, I was working on a film, my office was less than a quarter of a block away from the gaping hole and our windows over looked it all. I was taken aback that the shops and buildings surrounding, had withstood the carnage. The owner of the bar downstairs told me stories of the day, weeks, months that followed. I noticed that a cold and gnawing fear would overtake me, when the subway car I was in, slowed down as it pasted through the old WTC subway station and I saw the work going on. Buildings right across from the entrance to my office, had strange spray painted graffiti markings put there by the search and rescue crews. I felt very mortal and more scary, a target.



Yes, I can assign blame to the media, oh let's not forget our glorious present administration, Tom Ridge and his color coded alerts that Fox News kept reminding us of day after day. But here comes the truth, I have a brain and I have been taught better. Some more truth is though those feelings coursed through me that fateful night of curry buying, Julie the Cruise Director shined through as I left the restaurant and smiled a real smile and said, "Thank you. Good night gentlemen, have a good evening." I meant it in spite of my fears.



I have gone back to both restaurants for food. I think they are getting used me and I have gotten a smile or two back.

THE COLORFUL NEIGHBORS

To give you a idea and mental picture of some of the denizens of my neighborhood let me share yesterday morning's interaction.

A young man, mid twenties I would guess, past by me on his way to the subway. He was adorned in denim coveralls that stopped just above his knees, but then completed their journey another 3 inches with a border of red polka dots on a mustard yellow background. Those very same colors, though done this time in broad stripes, graced his 3/4 sleeve scoop neck tee shirt and some natty knee socks. To finish off his ensemble, a pointed beanie type hat sat jauntily on his closely cropped blond Aryan do and VERY LARGE high top tennis shoes embraced his feet. All of this done again in those polka dots.

We locked eyes as he past, so I gave him my cheeriest LA greeting, "good morning." He grunted. Okay, let's try this again I thought as he brushed past me. "Have a good day." Oh how very LA of me. Another grunt.

I have decided he is Eastern European; by his blondness and that special twang to his grunts; and I am hoping a professional clown or colorful mime. There is an outside chance he is just a terrible dresser. I hope I am wrong.

WELCOME TO MY NEW WORLD

I am a transplanted Beverly Hills girl/lady. Two years & change ago, I had a mid-life melt down. More about the melt down another time. Just let it be said, if you are over 40 & in the film/TV business in LA, just head for Forest Lawn Cemetery lie down, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

So, I moved to NYC. Actually I moved to Brooklyn. The ladies on "Sex In The City" had good jobs & shoes, so they could afford to live in NYC. Me, over the bridge was the closest I could get to Manhattan proper.

I live in Kensington. Sounds very posh like Kensington where Princess Di lived. Not even close. But, for this moment it is home.

My neighborhood I am told, was once all Italian & Jewish. Now, not may Italians, a few old Jewish women who have out lived their husbands, a wild mixture of Middle Eastern families who are mostly Muslim (Sunni) & Eastern Europeans who eye you suspiciously. A wee smattering of new Yuppies who cannot afford Park Slope are moving in, because there is talk of "an up & coming area" here & a bleed over of Orthodox Jews from Borough Park 4 blocks away.

There is an unwritten rule that everyone mostly stays & plays with "their own kind" to paraphrase "West Side Story." Me, being from LA, do not follow that rule, think Julie the cruise director on "The Love Boat" & you have my attitude to the neighbors.

So what you will be getting from me are stories, musings & most probably some rants on my recovery & new life.

I hope to entertain you, make you laugh, make you cry & with luck make you think about yourselves & others. I will be totally honest.

I have found out things about myself & life in general since I have been here & some are a rude awaking for a liberal, white girl from an upper class family.