Chapter 83.7: My 9/10 Novel

Living in northern New Jersey, it's difficult, if not impossible, to not think about the events of 9/11, 2001. Indeed, it's probably bad for your mental health not to think about it from time to time if you lived through it here. I suspect I will always remember exactly where in my commute I heard about the first plane hitting one of the Twin Towers. I chastised myself for assuming we were under attack — especially after the guy on WDHA amended his comments saying that it had been a small plane, not a large plane as he initially had heard.

In between the time I parked my car and turned off the engine and I entered my office, the second plane had hit the second tower. It immediately struck me: We're at war.

By 9/10, 2001, I had begun my first novel and written about thirty pages. I was stuck not on what to write next but when did my story occur. Was the time significant? On 9/11, I realized that we had just experienced an important line of demarcation in history; there is a pre-9/11 world and a post-9/11 world. From there, I had to determine how this affected my novel

I decided to use it obliquely. My novel begins on 9/10, 2000 and ends on 9/10, 2001. Because such attacks were barely contemplated by the average person, nothing more than faint glimpses of fear and omen are displayed. The story takes place in Hoboken, New Jersey, a town I know well that lies directly across the river from New York City. Ground Zero is within view. Indeed, the clouds of smoke and debris floated above the river after the towers fell.

Whether my oblique references to the tragedy of 9/11 should remain part of my novel — and not an overt focus of it — has been a frequent point of discussion with my initial readers. Usually I bring it up, but some of my readers have anticipated the question. I still think it's more than just a moment of inspiration; I think it's important to the story, subtle though it remains.

So, each year, I think a lot about the people who experienced 9/11 first hand. I lost a friend that day and thank God that I didn't lose more people who were close to me. I lost some innocence as well, which is largely what my novel is about — not my loss of innocence, but the nation's; or maybe it's that our eyes were opened to the terrible possibilities. And I reflect on those fictional people who mean so much today who came to life on 9/11.

With my young innocents at home, I have had almost no time to work on the latest novel much less to send my "finished" one out to agents. I respect their time and my own too much to look for representation when I don't have the time to respond appropriately if I should actually get an offer. It's like going fishing without the strength to reel in the fish.

Remember 9/11, my friends, in your own way. It's important for all Americans, regardless of political party or ideology.

Chapter 83.3: Summer in the City

The streets of New York City stink of garbage this morning. Scents of fish and piss and withering whatchamacallit grab onto the sticky humid air and embed themselves deep into people's nostrils. The occasional open door at this hour already has the air conditioner blasting out onto the sidewalk — an all too brief respite as I continue walking groggily to work.

I slept well on the train this morning as a pretty woman in a sundress read her Jodi Picoult beside me. Dreams of babies crying and parents consoling them. Diaper and feed.

I need my coffee. I need to sit for a minute or two. I need to clear the air. Welcome back, summer.

Win A Date With Wolverine!

Spice up this Valentine's Day by bidding on the chance to win a date with the X-man himself, Hugh Jackman. 

Hugh Jackman is offering a chance for one winner and a friend to join him for a meal on the set of his new movie.  The auction is to benefit the New York Restoration Project in an effort to restore New York City's parks, community gardens and open spaces. 

The auction is open until February 12th and the bids start at $5,000 on CharityBuzz.

Chapter 76.8: Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjack

This is the type of helpful travel tip that even non-baseball fans can sink their teeth into. The New York Times has posted an interactive map of the culinary delights available at all the major league baseball stadiums throughout the United States (and Toronto).

While I feel bad for my friends who are fans of the White Sox (not one item on their menu is recommended; the Times says bring a six pack and barter for a dog outside), I can agree with the assessment that the dogs at Shea are edible but way too expensive. (I think everyone can buy a full pack of hot dogs and possibly also the buns for less than the price of one dog at the game.)

I've gone to enough games and eaten enough expensive hot dogs to have decided that I don't need to have a dog and a beer at every game I attend any more. At the prices these days, I'm hard-pressed to attend more than one or two games anyway. But it's nice to fantasize, and if you do go to a game, why not have a game plan about the stadium menu!

Chapter 74.95: The Other Woman (One of Many)

The New York Times has exposed the woman who helped bring down Governor Spitzer. Not that she did it; Spitzer hung himself in this affair. He got what he deserved.

In this crazy world, the young, attractive brunette will probably get her big chance at musical stardom, which she claims on her MySpace page is her goal. The Times describes her music, which starts automatically when you get to her page, as "an amateurish, hip-hop inflected rhythm and blues tune," but she didn't make any outrageous comments in her interview with the Times. If she can be packaged properly, she can probably cut a record ... and then who knows? America loves a Cinderella story.

We've heard the last of Eliot Spitzer in politics for quite some time, but it wouldn't surprise me at all if this is not the last we hear of Jersey girl Ashley Alexandra Dupre.

Chapter 73.9: Number Nine... Number Nine

What a frigging idiot! What in God's name was he thinking? Does this man have a death wish? His career is over.

I've heard all these things today -- and even said a couple of them myself -- about Gov. Eliot Spitzer, aka Client Number Nine.

And I also said that if these allegations are true, then he must resign. But the more I thought of it, the more I wondered whether he might actually be able to survive. He might even be able to win re-election. Do I expect it? No. But stranger things have happened.

But let's look at this possibility. He's got three years left in his term. He wasn't running the prostitution ring, and lots of people will say "Hey, he's remorseful, and he's only doing what men do." We've heard all this crap before too. I'm no political operative, but if I were, I'd have assessed whether the current crisis will completely undermine the governor's platform and support structure before deciding whether to recommend that he resign. In short, what political damage will this cause. Can it be surmounted. What will it cost to his credibility and ability to govern.

Frankly, I think the answer is that his credibility is in shreds. But I have read many of the posts on the New York Times blogs, and I found several people who said this shouldn't cause him to resign. Most said it should, but I was surprised at how many said he should remain.

See, the problem is that if he's guilty of soliciting a prostitute, then he committed a crime, and by allegedly doing it across state lines he would be possibly guilty of a federal crime. Plus, the presidential election could play a factor. How much would Spitzer's continued presence in the state house hurt the Democrats? In New York, probably not too much, but I'll let more educated heads prevail on that one.

Ultimately, Gov. Spitzer's biggest problem isn't an ethical one, it's a political one. Say what you will about his allegedly cheating on his wife (the term is "adultery") and subjecting his daughters to being ridiculed by their classmates (the term is "asshole"), his biggest challenge will be determining whether he can stay in office, not whether he should.

Indeed, if he were to stay, it would bring about a shift in power -- at least temporarily. To counter any calls for impeachment, I believe it would be Sheldon Silver, the leader of the state assembly, who could sway things.

I don't know how the government of New York is set up, but if it's like the federal congressional system, the Assembly would have to determine whether to bring articles of impeachment; Democrats run the Assembly right now. If they were to do it, Republicans currently lead the state Senate, where an impeachment trial would be conducted and heard. There is no way an impeachment trial could be conducted before the November elections. So if Democrats take the state Senate, then perhaps Spitzer can survive -- albeit, having conceded a lot to people like Silver and other ranking Democrats. If the Republicans retained the state senate, then perhaps Spitzer would fall on his sword like Donald Rumsfeld did after the Democrats retook Congress in 2006.

Personally, I think this governor is done. But if there's one thing I've noticed about Eliot Spitzer over the past several years, it's that he likes to fight. I don't think he's going quietly.

Chapter 70.6: Holiday Spirits

Though I enjoy reading the New York Times, I don't usually expect to find much that's funny. But I just came across a NYT City room blog entry that left me laughing and wondering whether I could find this party next year: SantaCon NYC.

It took place this past Saturday, but it sounds like an easy thing to put together. Take one part Christmas spirit (full Christmas regalia: a Santa Claus outfit -- not just a hat -- or some associated costume such as sexy elf, horny reindeer, etc.), add a dose of Christmas secrecy, and cap off with copious amounts of alcohol.

To be honest, I'm too old to party like that for eighteen hours. I don't even do that on St. Patrick's Day anymore. So I probably won't be joining the party, but it sounds like a lot of fun. Lots of Ho Ho Ho-ing, although there may also have been too many scenes that would remind folks of Dan Aykroyd in Trading Places.

But if anyone cares to share what they did this past weekend while partying in New York or anywhere, feel free to do so here. Photos requested but not mandatory.

Chapter 69.3: Happy Halloween!

My wife and I, who both enjoy a good horror film or episode of Ghost Hunters, went with some friends to the Nightmare Haunted House in New York. It was a blast! The Lower East Side venue looked like an old church, though I don't believe that's what it was.

Groups of twelve were allowed into the haunted house at one time. We wove our way through cramped hallways, never knowing when a masked person might pop out. In many rooms the the looming presence was quite obvious, standing before us or waiting in a corner for the right moment to make a person jump or scream. Each room had a different theme. In one, we had to walk over a bed that looked like someone it had been the scene of a bloodletting. I was in the lead at that point, and a woman dressed completely in black jumped upon the bed; there was nowhere to go, so I had to follow her up over the bed. In another room, at least a dozen bodies in white shrouds stood blocking the path; the room was filled with them. I wasn't sure whether I was allowed to walk through them or if they'd eventually open up some space. When I tried to go around one of them, he moved into my direction -- several times. He wouldn't let me go. It wasn't scary so much as it was confusing. But it was fun.

Also a lot of fun was the bar. Once you had your ticket, you could pre-game in the bar and get a pleasant buzz before entering the haunted house. (In addition to the basic generic beer choices, a nice touch was the brand of wine they served: Gato Negro -- black cat.) But if you're looking for a nice scare, get your tickets soon; the house closes after November 3.

Chapter 67: The Rest Is Academic

Yes, that title line is supposed to be a joke. I finished the book earlier today, though I have discovered in some skimming that I still have a bunch of smaller tweaks to make still. Tomorrow, after a hearty jog, I'll devote as much of the day as possible to reading it full through. I know there'll be some word changes to make, and I want to make sure my town names remain consistent (aside from Hoboken and New York City, I decided to fictionalize the other towns I mention, though they're based on places I know -- some of the cities have been combined for the sake of convenience.)

Of course, I still don't have an agent, much less a publisher. I'm confident that the right opportunities will arise.

Chapter 64.1: The PATH Most Taken

Riding on the PATH train this morning, while ensconced in the last forty pages of the slow but enjoyable anthology of Graham Greene works I've been reading for the past few weeks, I was jolted back to reality by the grinding and grating of the train. It slowed and stopped. Nothing to worry about -- happens from time to time. Then it began again, only this time with a nasty grinding sound like I've heard when my car is about ready to die. And on toward Christopher Street. Reading during the several minutes of windy, wavy travel is like resting with my thoughts on a hammock in a soft breeze: quickly forgotten until the next time you experience it. After people disembarked at Christopher Street, the train urged from the station once again. It barked and squealed in frustration before finally it moved. At Ninth Street, the movement was the same at first. Then, quite suddenly, the train jumped with a terrible crunching sound. Passengers looked at each other as if to say "What the fuck was that?" A man beside me was reading his book. Without looking up, he said, "That's not a good sound."

In my mind, I joked. "We finally shook off that brake we didn't need. Now we can really get moving!"

At 14th Street, we arrived -- brakes intact -- and I noticed far more people than usual disembarking with me. Seems they'd had enough too.

Chapter 63.8: What's Happening?

My train this morning was delayed -- a New York train ahead of it was about 15 minutes late -- so we were late into Hoboken. When we arrived, a large crowd congregated at the head of the stairs to the PATH trains below. I took another route down, but still met with a line of people. When I finally got onto the platform, I saw one 33rd Street train packed to the gills with people and crowds of humanity standing around, looking confused. I asked a man if any announcement had been made about the delay. "Two Amtrak trains are blocking the way into New York," he said. I nodded and my mind was awhirl. Was it worse than that? What would I find when I entered New York. July 7 was the anniversary of the underground attacks in London. Am I safe?

So far, I am. I don't know yet what happened. Perhaps it was just two trains blocking the way into New York. Or maybe it's simply Monday after people have taken vacation.

Chapter 54.2: The World Changes (Mundane)

I messed up the world this morning. Things changed, and I had a hand in it. I walked up the wrong side of the street and noticed signs I'd never read. People were dancing and prancing, doing exercises; I'd never seen that gym from the sidewalk before. A man delivering Arizona Iced Tea on a dolly dropped cases of glass that crashed and splashed on the concrete. "Fuck!" he screamed. (On the streets of New York, go figure!)

Maybe 15 seconds later a little girl defied her father, complaining that her brother -- who was a step or two ahead of them both -- got away with too much. "But Sarah?" her father said. I walked on; this is a domestic case. I went into the deli and ordered oatmeal instead of the egg sandwich. Better for the cholesterol levels, I decided.

"Oatmeal?" the cashier asked?

"Yes."

"Anything on it?"

"No."

"Dollar fifty."

I spilled some oatmeal when I opened the container. And the oatmeal was bland and mucky. I poured two sugars into it to give it some flavor. I should have gotten raisens at the deli, but I was too cheap. Some things never change.

Chapter 52.5: Evil Dead, the Musical

My wife and I had an unexpectedly pleasant Off-Broadway theater experience recently -- Evil Dead, the Musical.

Better than the films (which isn't saying much), the play is actually a mixture of all three Evil Dead movies (well, primarily the first two with references to the third that perhaps only the cognoscenti would get).

Vulgar and campy to be sure, and a little sticky. The songs actually stick with you too, but how can anyone forget lyrics like "What the fuck was that!" in the song "What the F@%$"

Not a musical for children (or perhaps the perfect demograhic is an 11 year old boy) because the language and the occasional dry-humping, etc. is clearly R-rated. In the first act, the sister of the hero is the first person to become possessed by the evilness that has been unleashed by reading chants from the Necronomicon (Book of the Dead). She eventually causes all the rest of the characters to be possessed at one time or another.

There's an enjoyable dance of the dead scene called "Do the Necronomicon" with passing references not only to the Time Warp from Rocky Horror but also Fonzie from Happy Days.

Before the second act, the first three rows of seats (where we were sitting) get baggies with clear plastic ponchos. The fake blood really flows in the climatic killing spree toward the end. It's so bad that you can't help but laugh.

I probably wouldn't pay more than the special $26 ticket for the show, but I recommend getting the splatter zone to enjoy the whole experience.