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olt! is a way station and oasis on the ancient road from Bedlam to Bellevue, dedicated to free and open discussion of topics moving heart and spirit.
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I'm heading west, crossing Broadway, stop at the light next to a group of 15 or 16 year old boys in heated argument. One turns to me: 'Excuse me. Mind if I ask you a question?'
Sure I say, expecting to give direction to Washington Square or Alphabet City.
'Is testicular cancer the same as prostate cancer?'
ooomph. mmm, uh, I don't think so? The prostate is a gland, a different gland than testicles .... mmm ... you know the mmm balls. I can't believe I making ball gestures to a bunch of teens on the corner of Broadway. There's a triumphant 'see, I told you' from the kid with the question. "I was right!'
just then the light changes and I continue west ...
New York, New York
Mariko Mori's waveUFO landed in the huge atrium on the corner of 56th and Madison where it shimmers amid three-story high bamboo. We take off our shoes while attendants all in white glide by, handing out small white slippers with rubber ridges, paste electrodes to our heads and lead us up clear plastic steps into the pod to nestle in contoured innards where our brainwaves combine to produce a lightshow from rhythmic pulsing alpha, beta and theta waves.
Still deep in reveries on the bus back home, a woman seated right behind me gets on her phone, calls an operator and demands a number in Connecticut, getting louder with each sentence. People are beginning to make faces. "I'm calling from New York" she shouts. I turn and shout a bit louder "She's calling from New York!" I was planning to add more to make sure it covered the distance to Connecticut, but she broke into a series of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
It's drizzly today, I like drizzly, the walk from the bus gets me back into the lightshow, I notice there is a bit extra spring in my step? That's nice I'm thinking.
Back home I take off my shoes and there are those small white slippers with bouncy rubber ridges.
Now that rang a bell. I've been wondering what was there in that aging plastic bag in the back of my sock drawer!
Park Avenue Corners - 42th to 34th Street
Thank you for the pictures of beautiful NYC. I love to visit there. It's been quite a while now.
I sit here in my little mobile home in the middle of a big field of pasture grass and tumbleweeds and know I could never live there. But I do appreciate its unique and intriguing personality.
I also love living in a box in the middle of a field. It's different -- quiet.
There was an old woman, who lived in a box...
in the middle of a big field of pasture grass and tumbleweeds
I love the City but this sounds good to me as well!
I pulled this panel out of a garbage can when the dude in the pix comes by and asks if it's mine, told him he could have it. He let me take just one shot before fleeing, afraid I was going take it back.
maybe I should have kept it ...