When Paris Beckons

There is a reason why I changed my landing page image from the shot I took years ago on Broadway and 207th Street in Inwood, to this one.

This shot is one I took in the Left Bank of Paris. Two vacations to Paris have been cancelled in the last few years. Thanks, Covid.

So this Real New Yorker pines for my second favorite city, Paris. If you’ve never been there, I hope you can get to Paris eventually. If you love NYC, you’ll adore Paris. I mean, c’mon! Look at this!

Oh, and incidentally, I just finished a story about someone about to emerge from his post-Covid battle with death, depression and agoraphobia. It’s called, not coincidentally, “When Paris Beckons” — it’s just been distributed to lit pubs. Hopefully it will see the light of day.

So Let’s Recap

Yeah it’s been awhile. I’ve been remiss. I bailed out on Facebook. I visit from time to time, and wish some near and dear to me happy birthday. But I rarely post. And I rarely chime in on the brain-farts of others, like I used to.

Fuck that. I don’t want to participate in the relentless fear-mongering, agita-inducing, indulgences of those who still don’t “get it”.

I don’t want to see the parade of pictures from fabulous vacations to places where the pandemic still rages. “Yay, here we are. Look ma, no masks!”

In the months I’ve been away, ONE PERSON wrote to ask if I was OK. ONE FG PERSON! All those so-called “friends” were so much less than “friendly.”

Lesson learned.

I’ll stick to my loved ones, my neighbors, those who give an actual shit about me. I’ll write, and make music, and venture out more and more as my comfort level with re-entering society improves. We may be finished with Covid, but Covid is NOT finished with us.

We may be finished with Covid, but Covid ain’t finished with us.

Stay safe. Cherish each day. AND DON’T WASTE TIME.

Be back soon!

M.