If You Are Looking For Dov, Check The Papers

I met this girl over the holiday. She is very nice. She works for a popular online publication. She wants to help C find a job and help me in my pursuits as well. She had the idea of telling my story to another journalist she works with. One who likes writing stories about people, whatever you’d call a biographical article. I suppose the draw to my story is my being a college educated unemployed 20 something guy in NYC. Kinda apropos. “How come you’re not marching on Wall St?” “Do you have a favorite job interview story?” (The real journalist may think of better questions).

This is how the article will start.

I took D out for coffee before the interview, just so we could get to know one another a bit before. The first thing he said to me was “If you’re going to write a true to life article about me you’re gunna need a few empty paragraphs.” I obviously questioned his journalistic style, “But that would just be a waste of space.” “Exactly.”

I can tell him about my short lived stint in the NYC film industry. How I’ve been in the company of  artists and filmmakers as they were producing their work. He’ll ask about my visions of how life should have played out thus far. How that can be the same story for thousands of other people my age. We can talk about how there is much of my situation that was out of my control. He can ask me who I think is to blame, maybe if I have a solution for our country’s economic situation (not that, but you get the idea). I dunno, maybe getting into the mind of a real-life unemployed 20 something living on the Upper West Side could be worth a read.

“Tell me, D, what is it you blog about?”

“That’s the thing, see, I don’t have a real subject. It’s really just a way to take up time.”

I don’t know if I would make an interesting subject, but the idea of having an article about me written in this well known publication is hilarious. I’ll keep you posted as the subject progresses.

Time Spending; Yesterday and Today

Did you know that the Whole Foods on 97th st is the cheapest place in the area to get Kashi brand ‘Heart to Heart’ Honey Toasted Oat Cereal? I did.

I am at Whole Foods when I see their display of pomegranates and think I want one. They’re 2 for $4. But I remembered seeing pomegranates on a fruit truck $1 each, and those looked even better than Whole Foods’. But when was the next time I’d be near a fruit truck, let alone out of my apartment (probably not today). So I picked one up, just to see. And the desire, no, the lust for a pomegranate took hold. Something you may not know about me is that I love pomegranates. I love them. A good pomegranate may be my most favorite thing to eat in the entire galaxy. But they have to be good. Most people I know only have pomegranates around Rosh Hashana time, which is usually in the beginning of September. Pomegranates only get good at the end of October. November and December are good too. And a good pomegranate doesn’t taste anything like those drinks from pom juice.

From Last Year

[SIDE STORY: I believe it was tenth grade, my mom and I used to have late night pomegranate snacks. She would buy these massive fruit, the size of a small melon, we’d open them and devour every last seed. My favorite mother son bonding ritual. Now when I go back and my mother says she has a surprise for me it’s always the same thing, and I’m always delighted to eat it.]

Before going to Whole Foods I slept in today. Well, I woke up maybe 30 minutes later than usual, but I didn’t have 5 alarms going off all morning (I set several alarms rather than snooze, it’s safer). I haven’t slept late in a long time. I suppose I felt I earned it. Yesterday I had a job, today, as a celebration, I slept late. I was recommended by my friend Y (as thanks for getting me that job you get a shout out in my blog, lucky you)  for this job yesterday. The job was putting together invitation for this non-profit organization. As you can guess, my most valuable qualification here was free time. I sat in a room stuffing envelopes for 4.5 hours. Most of the time I was in the pleasant company of the organization’s administrative assistant, but still, 4.5 hours can lead to quite the numb brain. So it goes.

With Whole Foods and this post out of the way I’ve pretty much done half the things I wanted to accomplish today. Other things I have to do today; thanks to the holidays I haven’t been keeping to any regular exercise schedule, so I have to get back into that. I have to write a cover letter explaining how my seemingly random collection of job experience can translate into the Jewish nonprofit world. Oh, I’ll at least start a blog post (spoiler alert) about having an article in a well known internet publication written about me (hilarious, I know). Right now, however, I need to finish this riddle my friend sent me before he does.

Lost In The Park: The Pleasures Of Unemployment

There was a picket line in front of the Boat House restaurant in the park yesterday.

Strikers’ Tent

Something about the manager unfairly firing people and violating labor laws, the restaurant receiving a C grade for cleanliness, stealing tips, sexual harassment, sounded pretty bad. Pretty bad working conditions to have. People were chanting generic slogans, a drummer was being very loud. I was handed several documents including a free map of the park.

I traveled north from The Lake along winding paths that lead up a hill. With the sounds of the strike fading in the background, I came upon an isolated rock where sat one who can only be described as The Man! This man, probably in his late 60’s, was sitting on the rock playing this piano piece on his guitar (He told me the composer but I couldn’t hear and I didn’t want to interrupt him more than I already had). Sitting beside a tree and listening to him was the best half hour in the park of the day. Listen to Park Theme

Listening to that sweet melody turned out to be quite restorative. An opportunity to release my thoughts rather than be lost in them. I’ve gone over my situation time and time again, figuring out all the angles and weighing all the options. As I build my online presence and try to somehow accumulate some sort of experience, I can’t help but ponder the futility of it all. Isn’t this what I was doing 3 years ago in a different industry? Where can I protest these conditions? Half of my time during the week goes to planning where else on Broadway I can hand out my resume. The other half, pretending next month’s rent won’t ever be due. Weekends are split between pondering how to break my way into this overcrowded singles scene that is the Upper West Side (and do so without spending money), and how to avoid it.

The Man

As I strolled along for 3.5 hours, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I didn’t need a moment to myself, I have an ocean of those. I didn’t know what I was looking for, yet I found what I needed. Sitting under that tree I found time without myself. Time lost in his ballad of Central Park. No thoughts leading back to my situation at all. Just the stream of music to flow in. No reflection, just my mind being swallowed as I drifted along.

The Free Map