Marc was near Grand Central Station. He had just exited Metro-North and was heading towards Wollensky’s Grill. He needed a filet mignon. He passed by Midtown Comics and decided to stop in. He was happy he was not featured in any comic books. He, Alana, and Anat tried to keep it that way. Shocked they are that nothing has been printed. They figured they were strong with their versions of The Force that they were able to skate by.
Marc was reading an Incredible Hulk book and glanced at Wolverine. He walked up to the counter to purchase them. When a girl looking like the images sent by Anat of Christy was reading a book featuring Harley and Poison Ivy. Marc wasn’t sure if it was her. But sensed it was. He tapped his iPhone; his books were bagged, and he walked down the store’s steps and proceeded toward Forty-Ninth Street and Third Avenue. He was tasting the glass of Sauvignon Blanc they always poured him as he walked in.
He was a block away when he saw stale bread flying through the air. Remember, Christy killed the woman Marc hates. So, he still held her in somewhat high regard. But knew she was dangerous and needed to be stopped.
He saw her randomly hitting a family: mom, dad, and a girl about three years old. Marc fired pomegranates at Christy. He also backed them up with honey. Christy stopped for a second. Marc yelled out Why did you kill that woman?
Christy smiled and launched more bread. Marc shot back. The two volleyed back and forth for what seemed like an hour. It was about 15 minutes. Christy’s eyes started to stick from the honey in her eyelids.
Marc nailed her in the nose with a pomegranate. Christy fell. Marc got closer and checked her out. She was down for the count. Or was she? As he got slightly closer, her hands launched a huge piece of stale bread dripping with rancid butter. Marc deflected it, and it smacked Christy in the mouth. She bit into it and smiled.
Positively and negatively, social media has impacted our lives. Even if you’re not active and don’t have any accounts, it has made changes for you. I have not posted on my Facebook wall in nearly six years. I do run several sites for the organizations I belong to. We get thousands of hits, comments, etc. It has helped us grow. We’ve gotten financial and other donations. Our social media efforts have helped drive our narrative.
I do post on a few fun sites. The top two are Coney Island and Staten Island Ferry Friends. Who doesn’t love Coney Island? It has it all – The Cyclone, Nathan’s, the NY Aquarium, the Polar Bears, the Wonder Wheel and more. Much more. I am originally from Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. I spend a lot of time at Coney Island. Funny thing, I spend more time there now than when I lived in Brooklyn. Sadly, I only lived there for a few years.
The holy medicinal waters at Coney Island
As someone who grew up on Staten Island, I have taken my share of rides on that big orange boat. That boat has taken Staten Islanders to and from Manhattan since 1817. It has an annual ridership of 22 million.
I focus heavily on my photography at these locations. My posts get hundreds of likes and comments. One shot of the ferry has over 10,000 views. I do not live for “likes” on Facebook. I once had a dear friend who got upset when his posts didn’t get too many likes. Years ago (Feb. 3, 2017), I wrote a blog post titled “Do We Live for Likes?” It got a few views and likes.
Deck on the Dorothy Day: Over 10,000 views and 600 likes
It is nice to see my images generate comments and memories. People bring up fun times they had riding the Cyclone, munching on that great hot dog at Nathan’s, or when they heard the man yell, “Shine, shine” on the ferry. Don’t forget the ferry preachers. It is fun.
But what I do not understand is why people must be nasty about the posts. For the record, the people on the Coney Island pages are so positive. There are those afraid of the Cyclone and mention the moments they freaked out on the drop and its twists and turns. I rode it on Mother’s Day. Mom watched while she held my Yankee hat. Once my old Yankee hat blew off on the Cyclone. I am still hoping to find it under the tracks. Who knows what probably tried to eat it? I love it when people comment about how they ran into the ocean in February during a snowstorm. More power to you.
The Cyclone
For the most part, people on the ferry page are just as nice. But people need to be polite. I recently posted a shot of the Sandy Ground boat docking at St. George. In the shot, the deckhand is at the gate. One person commented, “He looks lost.” Another wrote, “gay.”
Deckhand Getting Ready for the Sandy Ground to Dock
I can understand why people attack how filthy the boat bathrooms are. They need to be cleaned. Or when they are shocked by how clean the decks look in the images I shot. Bear in mind, I usually take photos on weekend morning runs. The ferries would be dirtier if I shot them during rush hour. But why can’t people just either be nice or refrain from commenting? There’s no need to say mean things about the deckhands. I can understand a comment about a needless pitching change that cost the Yankees a game. This is just a guy doing his job. Let’s love the drop on the Cyclone, ride our ferry, have fun, and support it all.
Do you ever try to see things through a different lens? Are you so stuck in your usual way of thinking that you cannot? It might even scare you to try to look. The other day, I was at Grand Army Plaza and the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I was thrilled to see that the plaza renovation is finally complete. It made the fact that I looked through a different lens even more special.
Grand Army Plaza
Normally, when I stroll through the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, I have my camera with my Nikkor105MM F2.8 macro lens. That’s the lens that lets you to closeups of the flowers. You can shoot shots of the bees flying around and landing on the pretty flowers. Perhaps they are fetching honey. That’s an old joke from a camp skit. The lens allows you to take close-ups of a nice ribeye with that glass of red behind it and hashbrowns on the side.
I love shooting macro. But it doesn’t allow you to go wide or zoom. You are at a fixed focal length. That’s cool. Most of the best portrait and street photos are shot that way. I have taken dozens of floral shots with my 105 mm lens. I have been contemplating going to the BBG with a different lens. I finally did. I brought a Nikkor 24-70MM F2.8. Some call this the everyday lens. It is amazing. It gives you the versatility to do nearly everything. It doesn’t go as wide as a standard wide-angle. Nor does it let you zoom like the 70-200MM. It goes from wide to short telephoto. It is light and won’t weigh you down. It is a great choice when you wanna go out with just one lens and not be weighed down by your camera bag.
Bee Fetching Honey – Macro
As I walked by Prospect Park towards Grand Army Plaza, I was shocked to see that the renovation work was complete. It took about two years. For NYC, that’s super-fast. They’ve been doing track work on the R-subway line for several years with no end on the horizon.
Red and White – Macro
I was so happy I took my 24-70 lens. The macro would have done a great job. But framing the shot would have taken much longer and been more difficult. The other lens allowed me the flexibility I needed. Yes, I tried to take a shot of the Brooklyn Museum. No dice. I need my wide-angle lens. If the museum were about a half-foot smaller, I could capture it.
As I entered the garden, I took my usual opening shot of the field and was able to capture it all. I was able to shoot the ponds and capture them perfectly. As for the close-ups of the flowers, it did okay. It captured them nicely. Does it capture the same detail as the macro? No. But that’s why they make that lens.
Purple – 24-70mm
Bottom line: seeing things through a different lens opens your eyes to new things. Give it a try.
Email has been mainstream in business since the 1990s. As we know, we now have too many other ways to communicate, including but not limited to social media and texting. Remember faxing? Or snail mail? Both are still in play.
As a chair of a community organization and a volunteer in a few others, we generally communicate our business via email. Several of us who are friends often have our own discussions via chat. But all official business is done via email.
We have members who do not have email. They do not have computers. Some are senior citizens. But before we toss in the age factor, I have worked with people in their early 90s to create PowerPoints and run podcasts. They had no issues. Yes, I worked with people much younger who had no clue how to use email or other communication methods. So, age is just a number.
About two weeks ago, it snowed in New York City. It hampered some events. One started at 7:30 a.m. ET. The other was supposed to begin at 9 a.m. ET. We wound up combining our groups. This recent storm was not the first time we have had to take that course of action. It will not be the last. We early birds sat around, and the folks from the later-starting group wandered in. Both groups have their latecomers. Snow delayed some of them even further. A day or two later, I suggested that when we know the weather will not be good, we send an email and make a robocall to let people know we are combining. Several people blasted this idea, saying some people don’t have email, and others don’t want to be bothered by a robocall. I made the case that email has been in play for a long time and that the call was coming from a number we all know. It should not register as a potential spam call, as carriers like to say.
I know people who text to landlines. I still have one. The texts usually arrive in gibberish. As chair of my group, generally start meetings (which are traditionally on Zoom, that’s another issue), reminding people you need to text their cell phones. Some folks love Facebook Messenger. Unfortunately, they do not realize Messenger works on Facebook. Many don’t know that you cannot email Gmail or send SMS messages from Messenger. Don’t get me started on WhatsApp. I think it works great and has its place.
Before I was chair, I was corresponding secretary. I created a form for people to send me via email when they donate. I can take their contact information off it and generate thank-you notes to distribute via email and traditional mail. It is still lovely to receive a personal, warm thank-you note in the mail. One of my chairs used to mail me handwritten notes with donor information. Sometimes he would wait weeks, and I’d get an envelope with 30 or 40 scraps of paper with contact information. This issue severely hampered our program.
The question has always lingered in my mind: What to do? I continue to use email and will call people. But the question will always linger on how to reach everyone.
Some of us remember the phrase, “All politics is local,” used by former House Speaker Tip O’Neill throughout his career. His dad reminded him of that in the ‘30s, after he lost his first election while running for a seat on the Cambridge City Council. He took his own neighborhood for granted. It has been said to be a great learning experience for him. For me, too.
Let’s jump out of politics and go to PR. Trust me, as a long-time practitioner who started in NYC’s government, the profession has its politics. The key thing to remember is that all good PR is local. It is the best way to build. We will jump from Staten Island, New York, to Edison, New Jersey, other parts of the USA, and end in Sicily, Italy.
Fresh out of college and while in grad school, I started volunteering on local and city-wide political campaigns in NYC. I landed my first job as a staff member in NYC, moved on to the mayor’s office, and then went into the private sector. I watched each candidate and elected official fight it out and reach an agreement on local issues. It could have been infrastructure, for example, which district would get money for new sanitary and storm sewers or better bus routes.
After leaving politics and joining a tech PR firm, I represented the former Consumer Electronics Manufacturing Association (CEMA), now the Consumer Electronics Association (CEA). I was involved with this great organization for many years, both representing them and sponsoring their press room.
Composed of leading electronics makers, such as Bose, Panasonic, and Sony, which, along with others, made great audio equipment for cars. There was a time before you used SiriusXM or your iPhone to get your music in your vehicle. You pumped up your Caddy, Jeep, Nissan, Ram, Vette, Toyota, etc., with great speakers and cassette players. Then we moved onto CD players and theater systems in the cars. The car audio market was huge.
We sent local car audio experts across the country to explain why you should upgrade your vehicle with their equipment rather than rely on the dealer models. Our spokespersons traveled to top and secondary cities and did local newspaper, radio, and TV interviews. They popped into the local auto shows.
I remember when we had high-end cars with great sound systems and a spokesperson lined up outside of CBS’s studio in NYC. The story went national.
Years later, I worked for Vonage, the company that brought internet telephony to consumers. We first launched local area codes in NYC and Edison, New Jersey. One of my roles was to write the press releases when we launched in new locales. I wanted to interest the local writers. Sadly, in today’s world, many of those great folks are gone.
Vonage Device
Having watched some companies launch locally by saying, “We are now in Dallas, New Orleans, or San Diego…” I tailored the copy to make it sound like we were part of those cities. As soon as the releases crossed Business Wire and I personally emailed them to local reporters, we got coverage. Even better, retailers called and asked if they could sell our products in their stores. Civilians called to ask whether we were opening a store in their neighborhood and where to send their resumes. The service was sold online, for the most part. But we did sell the devices that connected to the service in local and chain electronics stores. So, we did our local thing, which may have helped local stores increase their revenue and the number of people in the workforce.
Jumping to marketing tactics in Sicily. I recently returned from Sicily. I highly recommend it. The sites, people, food, and drink are incredible. During my tour, I was fortunate enough to visit Savoca, where Francis Ford Coppola filmed several scenes from “The Godfather.”
While walking to the church where Michael Corleone and Appolonia wed, I saw a great local marketing tactic put into play by my local guide, a wonderful woman of British and Sicilian ancestry. She joined us for three days. Her intimate local knowledge was incredible. But her skills in helping people in small towns stood above it all.
As we walked to the church where Michael Corleone and Appolonia wed, we passed Dioniso, a great little store selling olive oils, spices, wines, and other great stuff. The store was not supposed to be open when we were touring Savoca. Our guide texted the owner and let him know she was bringing a crew of 45 people through town, and he might want to open. As we approached the store, we saw him opening the shop. She introduced us, and we did tastings and bought numerous items. He probably stayed open for just about an hour. He made many sales. Again, local marketing. Tell them we are coming and let them open; they will succeed.
Olive Oil from Dioniso
I remember so many calls from national reporters, particularly from the Associated Press or The Wall Street Journal, calling or emailing about things they read in the local news about the companies I worked for. I have seen this with social media. I run several sites for local organizations. We get thousands of visitors. Viewers of our work have increased donations of memorabilia and money, as well as visits to our location. Bottom line: start local and remember it will lead to growth.
If you live in a standard NYC apartment— be it in the city or the boroughs —you’re lucky if you have any counter space. My grandmother is the master of complaining about this. Her apartment has none. I have had three apartments. My current dwelling has a decent amount. The others had less. But more than grandma has. She has complained about that since I’ve known her. One of the first things she noticed and talked about when she visited my place was how much more counter space I had than she did.
She then made my grandfather count his steps as he walked through it. She was trying to figure out the square footage. Unless you live in a beautiful Upper East or West Side apartment with a stunning kitchen with an island in the center to eat on and formal dining room, you have an eat-in kitchen and/or a tiny dining room. I have both. However, the area that could be used as a dining room is currently used for other purposes. My dad once said I should set one up for when you entertain. I said Who am I entertaining? Except for the maintenance staff, no one has been in my apartment in over three years. I am not unhappy about this situation. I prefer it because it keeps dirt out. My grandmother wondered if I really lived there. The place looks sterile. I wish it really were.
Now jumping back to my counter space. Like most of we have many things residing on them. For example, I have a crock pot. You can make more than just meatballs in it. My mom got one when I was young. All she ever made in it were meatballs. We used to joke around and say that’s all it can cook. Truth be told, you can make tons of things in it, and most of the time the food is lish (Lish is a summer camp term for delicious). Next to the crockpot is a steamer and an air fryer. Opposite the main counter is another one. It has various items chilling on it.
Next to the cooking equipment are my iPhone and Amazon Fire Tablet, along with their respective chargers. Sometimes my portable phone charger is there. It usually chills in the cabinet on my wine fridge’s table. I also have an Atari game player loaded with the games we played on the 2600 in the 1980s. No matter how much better the tech is today, those games are still the best. I’ll take Asteroids or Centipede over anything we have today.
By the sink are Dawn, a dish towel, and, of course, the utensil holder and cutting board. With all the junk we place on our counters. It is a wonder we can prep and cook our meals. Then there are the mistakes we make due to having too many gadgets.
The other day, I filled the crockpot with stew meat, barbecue sauce, celery, and carrots. I put it on high and walked away. A little while later, I walked past it. I was bewildered as to why it didn’t feel hot and heard no sounds of the sauce starting to cook. I spent a few minutes studying the situation. Then it hit me. I plugged the Fire Tablet’s cable into the outlet and walked away. I thought I had plugged in the crockpot. I made the switch. This is not the first time it has happened. Then there was the time that I nearly marinated the meat with Dawn, rather than Worcestershire sauce.
If only I still lived in an apartment with a small terrace and grill. I never had these issues when grilling. It ruled. You could throw steaks on the grill. Sit back and crank The Cure with a nice glass of wine or beer. Well, for the long-term future, that’s out of the question. So, I will either place all my electronic devices and chargers further away from my cooking equipment. Or hope that my Amazon or iPhone charger will power the air fryer, crockpot, or steamer. Dream on.
You can be Isolated and in the Midst of It All – Get the Balance Right
By Mitchell Slepian
World’s Fair Globe, Flushing Meadows–Corona Park
No, I am not writing about Ol’ Blue Eyes. Or quoting from Depeche Mode. (But I do want to hear his version of “New York, New York” played after every game at Yankee Stadium during 2026). The Big Apple is one of the world’s most photogenic cities. Yes, there are plenty of others, for example, Belfast, Jerusalem, Moscow, Milan, Reykjavik and Tel Aviv. What I love about New York City is that nowhere else can you find Broadway, the Brooklyn Bridge, Coney Island, the East and Hudson Rivers, the Staten Island Ferry, Yankee Stadium, and the World’s Fair Globe. And more. Much more.
Cell Tower Outside Brooklyn Botanic Garden
New York offers places where you can feel the big-city madness. Or areas where you can feel the quiet and almost feel isolation. When I say isolation, I do not mean the Joy Division tune. I am thinking about being at the Brooklyn (BBG) or New York Botanic Gardens, William H. Pouch Scout Camp, or just being in your own world while cruising along Museum Mile. NYC offers isolation and madness.
The Vessel at Hudson Yards
The joy of being in the “isolation”(Joy Division was running through my head) of NYC, or let’s be honest, any other major city, is the things that pop up on your travels. As I was walking through the Fall Harbor Fest at BBG, I looked up and saw a cell tower. A few feet away, I watched a squirrel around some dying flowers. It’s that time of year. Next to the flowers was a trash can. I remember seeing cell towers driving through Death Valley and along the Italian lakes.
Let’s face they are everywhere. We cannot survive without our Wi-Fi. In many ways, seeing them and the trash cans keeps it in perspective. You can enjoy your isolation or privacy. But know you are when you are in the middle of beautiful gardens or national parks and communing with nature, you can easily text your friends, check the baseball scores, or listen to Depeche Mode on Apple Music on your iPhone. And toss out your trash. NYC provides the perfect place to do it all. It’s just important to remember to stay balanced in your adventures and take it all in.
Pre-Covid-19, lunch at the office used to be fun. Most of us ate at our desks. Of course, there were times when we went out to lunch. Either a group from the office went to get out, or we went alone. We used to see which place had the best pizza, burger, pasta, or taco. Sometimes, we would grab something from the salad bar, deli, or fast-food joint, head back to the office, and eat in a conference room, someone’s office, or the break room.
Occasionally, we took someone out to celebrate a birthday, engagement, divorce, or promotion. At times, we met a friend who worked nearby. Or even better, had a lunch date. That was the way to do it. You and the person you were with knew you were on your lunch hour. So, you had a couple of slices and got to know each other. If it worked, you planned something. If it fell into the usual case, you returned to your desk thinking you should have gone to Walgreens at lunchtime.
How COVID-19 Wrecked the Fun Office Lunch
Then came COVID-19. We worked from home and ate in our kitchens, dressed in Yankees or The Cure t-shirts. The Cure or Depeche Mode was cranking. Eventually, we went back to the office. Some went back full-time. Most, like me, are on a hybrid schedule.
Back to Eating at Work
On the days I work in the city, I bring my lunch pail. I don’t slide down my dinosaur-like Fred Flintstone at lunchtime to go on my break and eat a pterodactyl bird or brontoburger. For the most part, I stick to salads. These days, most people bring their lunch. Why? Well, many of the places we used to go to are closed. It is sad to walk down NYC’s streets and see many lunch joints boarded up. Those that are still open are pricier than ever. You can make almost two- or three days’ worth of salads for what they charge for a small one with one or two add-ins. For the record, I preferred the salad bars where the hat, apron, and glove-wearing employee made your salad v. all-you-can-eat, slop everything into a dish salad bar, and weighed at the register stores. Too many people used their grubby hands to load up their bowls.
The Office Breakroom – Scary It Can Be
Let’s discuss the office’s break room. You remember those. It is a tiny or decent-sized room with a refrigerator or two, a filthy microwave, a beat-up toaster oven, a grime-filled sink, a Keurig and water cooler for hot water for the tea drinkers, and cold water to quench your thirst. The vending machines never work. You used to lose your dollar bills. You still lose them. But now you can tap your phone to pay with Apple Pay, and your M&M’s or Pepsi don’t come out of the machine. The room usually has napkins, paper towels, plates, coffee, and other cups, roaches and paper plates. People sometimes sit on chairs that are not rocking chairs. But the chairs rock. The chairs are placed by beat up tables that shake. The Department of Labor rules and the emergency escape plan are somewhere on the wall. Don’t forget the fire extinguisher. It’s probably not working. Good luck if there’s a fire.
Let’s go to the office refrigerator. Have you ever gone in to get your sandwich and couldn’t find it? Years ago, it happened to me. It was in a Barnes & Noble bag. Remember that store? I didn’t see the bag and thought someone had stolen my lunch. It happens. What boggles my mind is it was a homemade sandwich. I would be less upset if someone stole my lunch from the store. I would never steal anyone’s lunch. But it makes more sense to steal something that a store prepared. You have no idea what the person’s kitchen looks like. It could look like a slop pit. At the local bodega, you usually see the people crafting your meal. Sometimes, I’ve walked into those stores and right out after a quick look around. You probably have never seen the person’s home kitchen. Worse, the sandwich could have been made by someone picking their nose while slapping the roast beef onto the roll.
Let us return to my stolen bag. I went down to a store and bought lunch. Yeah, I looked around. The store was fine. I returned to the fridge to get something out and saw my sandwich. The person stole my Barnes & Noble bag. Not my lunch. Someone needed a bag. Why steal from the office fridge? They should have gone to the mailroom or reception area where there were many bags. Someone said maybe they wanted it to be used as a gift bag, and it looked nicer than the typical plastic or paper bag. Who knows?
Also, did you ever see what was in the office fridge? Some salads have turned colors other than green. The sandwiches had moldy blue bread. The office milk might have been sitting there since the flood. People keep liquids in containers that resemble the water on the tracks of NYC’s subway. Sometimes, the aroma you get when you open the doors could knock you out. Take a quick peek in the freezer. Sometimes, there is ice. It is often covered in crumbs or pieces of who knows what.
Then there are those people who bring their lunch in bowls or dishes. Did you ever watch them stand by the sink after they eat? They stand there for what seems like an hour. No one else can get near the sink while they are there. Ah, come on, people, give it a quick spray of soap and water and toss it in your bag. You will get much cleaner in your kitchen sink or dishwasher at home—the same for your coffee mug or teacup. Many people keep those at their desks or in a cabinet in the office kitchen. You can give those a little more cleaning love. But do it quickly. How could you keep a personal mug in a cabinet with other people’s mugs? Some could touch it or grab it by mistake.
Alana was at work. She was feeling peaceful. Some of her volunteer groups annoyed her. But that’s life. The world hasn’t rotated off its axis. After work was girl’s night. She and a few of her girlfriends were meeting in an Alphabet City bar for drinks and to hear music.
She moseyed through her day and left for the bar. Stacey, Ellen and Tzipora were at the bar when she arrived. Girlie cocktails and beer were flowing. Eighties tunes were cranking. Eventually, a band would take the stage.
The ladies ordered some veggie burgers. None of them needed to worry about their figures. They were all in great shape. They’ve been friends since elementary school.
Their conversations ranged from the market, music, work and guys. And girls, as Tzipora, is bi. The night was a typical NYC bar night. Some guys started flirting with the ladies. The ladies smiled and sipped their beverages. A few ladies started flirting with them, too. The ladies were hot. They loved getting hit on by everyone.
A drunken jock started hitting on them. Weird. Not that he was hitting on them but this was far from the bar that these types hung. The place was much more artsy and alternative. TVs were not playing sports, rather music videos and dance. Alana took it all in stride. She was feeling happy.
The guy went after Stacey, the quieter girl of the crew. She was pleased. She has a hard time meeting guys. But she wasn’t sure if this how she wants to meet her beshert. The guy put his hands on her shoulders and tried to kiss her. She got scared. Alana was a little tipsy at the time. The other ladies were engaged in a deep conversation about today’s political environment. Funny enough they were in a very artsy liberal bar and are fairly conservative. They didn’t care about the social issues. But are very business conservative and nationalistic.
Stacey asked the guy to walk away. He started screaming at her. The bar was quite loud. The bartender and security guard heard and saw nothing. The guy tried to touch her again.
As soon as his hands tried to grab her, Alana slammed down her cocktail glass on the bar. Her whole body tensed. Her peace ended. She walked right up to the guy.
“Leave my girl alone,” she belted out.
“What are you gonna do about it?” he screamed as he shoved his way toward Alana and flexed his muscles. Big mistake. As he was posing Alana shot a stream of pomegranate wine out of her eyes. She hit him the eyes and all over his football jersey. He fell down. But got up. He wiped his eyes out and tried to punch Alana. She laughed. As he tried to put his fist in her face, a vine of figs came out of her mouth. They wrapped around his neck. He began to choke. He fell down.
Alana looked at her friends and decided it was time for her to go. As she raced to the door, Tzipora trailed her. They smiled at each other, embraced and their lips locked.
Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc. 