I Can Do This

Some might think that writing a book would be easy. One day, I want to write a book. And I want people to want to read it. I would hope they'd be interested in what I have to say or what I have done. It's a fun, but also daunting idea.

To start off, I think I'd write something about my upbringing and how I got out here to NYC. However, off the top of my mind, the first vignette I can think of would be the sign I received yesterday. Call is what you will, but I think God was showing me that this move was the right decision.

I was waiting for the movers to arrive at my first apartment, a three month sublet I found through a friend who's roommate had recently received a promotion and had to move to St. Louis. After grabbing my key from the laundry lady downstairs who had been holding them for me and checking out the place, I started bringing things in that I could carry little-by-little. On my second trip down stairs, I saw two women walking towards me. Assuming they were tenants of the building, I kept the door open. Turns out they weren't residents.

"Do you happen to know if this building is leasing?" the older woman I assumed to be the mother asked. 

I must've looked confused.

"Are there any apartments for rent here?" her daughter added.

"Yes, is there a way to know if any are unoccupied or if they're looking to rent? Is there a sign on the door?"

"Oh I have no idea!" I replied, "I'm sorry, I'm just moving in right now!"

"Oh lucky man, how did you find this place?"

I proceeded to tell the two women, who I found out were in fact a mother-daughter duo about how I found the sublet. We then talked about what her daughter was looking for, where in the city she worked, a start date, where she wanted to live, size, budget, etc. She was adamant on avoiding broker's fees and seemed to run into them where lever she searched. Even Craigslist!

So I suggested two apps to help her with the search and explained my philosophy on the necessities of brokers for busy people. There is a trade-of you must make if you're going to be searching for your own apartment. You now are taking it upon yourself to spend a lot of time searching. That's what brokers are paid to do. They also have relationships with owners that any individual likely has not established.

Anyway, I suggested one website and was completely blanking on the other. We wished each other well and good luck in our respective journeys.

I was bummed I couldn't remember the app that I had JUST been reading about in the New York Times. It was aimed at eliminating brokers fees and was highly recommended. Walking up the stairs, "Redfin" popped into my head. A few days prior I had downloaded it to my phone! Why couldn't I have remembered it for those women?

Maybe they're still out there, I thought. Maybe I could tell them what that other app is I couldn't think of before! 

Fate struck because when I came down the stairs the second time and met my movers, the mother came running over to me and asked for the name of the first website I had suggested. Elated to see her again, I was able to tell her about the second as well. 

Happy with the exchange, we once again we wished each other well. I'm glad she ran back to find me.

In retrospect, I wish I had offered her some sort of service I could provide! Or at least some contact info for any future search. Soon enough.

From this tiny interaction, I demonstrated to myself that I can do this. I'm meant to do this. It just comes naturally. I got along so well and was able to help these women and offer them some sense of hope and optimism. To top it all off, I had JUST arrived in the city. 

Flights to Phoenix

Ever get to your seat in a plane and hope the chair next to you remains empty? And whenever someone walks down the aisle you secretly want them to keep walking not take the coveted space?

The plane from Columbus to Charlotte on New Year's Eve was not only late but overbooked. There was no way I was going to be the one to accept a voucher to change my flight. Everyone was headed to Phoenix for the Notre Dame - Ohio State game, myself included. Leaving the night before kickoff, I wasn't going to risk giving up my seat and taking a similarly overbooked flight on American the next morning.

As I was walking to my seat, the couple in front of me was discussing how they didn't have seats next to each other. "It doesn't matter," the stereotypical rural Ohio man said, "seat assignments on these things don't matter."

Um, what?

"Oh," the equally stereotypical rural Ohio woman replied, "Ok, well then here looks good."

Weird, I thought to myself. Can't wait to see how this plays out. 

Walking to my aisle seat, I noticed the window had yet to be occupied. Yes, I thought to myself, an empty seat - only to be quickly reminded that the flight was full. Who would be the lucky occupant? Situating myself, it was time to be entertained by whatever circumstances would come from the ignorant couple a few rows ahead of me. And in walks Goliath.

Now it wasn't actually Goliath, but this dude was really really tall. Where else would he sit but next to me? The seat given to him at boarding was now occupied by the couple, who he happily allowed to remain in their seats. When he entered to get to his seat, it wasn't until after he sat down that I felt bad for not offering mine. Here is this massive human being jammed into the smaller of the two already tiny seats. So as a personal penance, I opened up the air for conversation.

His name was Stephen. He's a stand-up comic, but a massage specialist by day.

Without much reading material for my 3 hour layover in Charlotte, I occupied most of my time by walking around and either listening to music or making some calls. Walking back to the gate, it was really hard to miss the father and his two sons all with matching rollers.

Cute.

The rural Ohio duo got their comeuppance at the ticket counter for their flight to Phoenix. Because of all the delays at Charlotte, the earlier flight to Phoenix departed before half their passengers had arrived from Columbus. There were a lot of upset and angry people around the booth of my gate for the later flight to Phoenix, which was full. Just as I was showing the girl my ticket to scan, I heard the man yelling at one of the desk attendants "What's her badge number?" Referring to another staff member at the counter, "She harassed me!"

Wonder if they ever made it to the game. 

This second flight was a much larger plane than the first and I was once again herded to the very back. This time I was in the window seat and the middle seat remained empty for some time. Once again that hope started springing up inside me every time I saw someone I didn't want to sit next to. Call me judgmental, but in some cases I just want to have my space! 

In comes a guy who must've been a lineman in his earlier years. Huge. I'm talking spilling-over-the-arm-rests-even-though-he-was-sucking-it-in-and-sitting-stiff-as-a-board-the-entire-flight-huge. I felt bad for the guy. He was just built really large. He wasn't obese. He was just large. I was squished against the window, but relative to him, I must've been the more comfortable of the two. 

After four hours of discomfort (not helped by the unresponsive guy behind me who continually kicked my seat and then placed his shoeless foot on my arm rest), two personal celebrations of New Year's, and no complimentary snacks, I made it to Phoenix: hungry, thirsty and with a popped blood vessel in my eye. 

Kick-off was in 9 hours. Let's do this.   

 

Shared Silence

The other day I stopped by a coffee shop to which I had never given my patronage. Julia, one of my best friend's from home frequented the place to load up on caffeine between jobs. Though I'm really trying to save money for my move to New York, I figured "Why not buy local?" How hipster of me!

After I got something called a cortada (which was amazing) and a piece of apple cinnamon cake (equally as amazing), I whipped out my phone to draft an email, check email, respond to messages, etc. A table over, an elderly couple sat down with their beverages and made themselves comfortable. While I remained occupied with whatever was going on inside the little brick I had in my hand, they simply sat in silence. A minute or so passed by with no activity to distract me from my emails, so to distract myself I looked up. And smiled. And stared. (Luckily they never noticed the creepy guy by the window smiling and staring at them).

There was something so comforting in this couple simply enjoying each other's company. No unnecessary conversation. No fidgeting. No need to be entertained. Who knows how long they had been together or what their back story was. They just sat there, he looking around at the walls of the cafe while she focused her gaze on something outside. Not a word was spoken. No phones were pulled out or worse on the table. No books. Mo newspapers. Nothing. They were so comfortable just existing in the other's presence.

That exchange, or lack thereof is just one of the many examples of how love can be shared. Simply in their presence to one another. Their comfort gave me comfort. Two individuals, one couple. No worry. Just love.

Eventually they did make some inaudible conversation, and instinctively I recoiled back to my phone in hopes they wouldn't look over to the smiling observer. The scene played in my head the rest of the day - do I have that in my life? With whom? With whom do I share in that kind of love?

Transparent

While hastily last second Christmas shopping, the online behemoth Amazon roped me into their 30-day free trial of Amazon Prime. Honestly I only needed it to ship one item. And I'm cheap. So I opted in for this free offer (though to be honest it is the second time I have done that - when I was in undergrad, I accepted the same offer my freshman year. Anyway, now I was able to open the doors to a whole lot more convenient shopping as well as everything else Prime gives to its subscribers, the most important being and ability to watch Transparent.

I remember Jeffrey Tambor's Golden Globes acceptance speech last year for playing one of the show's protagonists, Maura. Never having seen the show I was curious to explore, but didn't have an account. And to be honest I didn't really try all that hard to watch it. However, this winter, over a year after first seeing the impact of the show, I finally had the opportunity to watch it.

Season 1 flew by - and I'm not one to binge watch anything. Two shows in a row is binging for me - and these were only 20-30 minutes episodes! Some days I would watch a third at some other point in time.

The first season began by focusing on Mort's realization, acceptance and gradual transformation to Maura. This storyline became the general overlay of the series. Season 2 has changed that dramatically. Every character has his/her own story. The family is extremely dysfunctional, but more than anything else, each Pfefferman is so selfish. Every time one of them seems to have the potential to get out of their own world, they sadly fall right back into it as the center of their universe.

I wish there was a video I could post of the opening scene of the second season. The first two minutes are one continuous shot. No camera angle changes. Just one scene. A family photo of Sarah and Tammy's wedding. This is quite possibly the best comedic scene I have ever viewed. I couldn't help but relate to it with everyone having his or her own agenda (even the kids) and all trying to come together for one purpose - a simple family photo. Yet, even together they can't cooperate. Add in an incompetent photographer and you've got my mom's side of the family every time we celebrate a holiday.

Transparent is full of great sequences (e.g. the closing scene of Maura and her two daughters singing in the car together). There are moments that are so real and others that become extremely visceral. I'm almost done with the second season and am very much looking forward to a third! Keep 'em comin, Amazon!