Zen Driving

Sunday afternoon. The wife cloaked in blue, in a sacred Bollywood induced trance on the coach. When I tried to tell her my bad news , I was shushed and sent to the computer out of sight in the bedroom. Left with this unfulfilled confessional mode, I turn to you, my loyal reader. I just got another ticket on the frakin car. This one, for not" properly "displaying my license plate. Mind you, it was "displayed", only improperly according to the bureaucrats. And all this after having to spend a morning at Motor Vehicles replacing the damn plate in the first  place! What? Oh, I know it's my  fault for hitting the guy. But man, talk  about Karma. Is this happening to me because I lied to the guy who fixes the car? I told him the wife was driving. It can't be that, can it? I have another ticket to pay for forgetting to move the car last Monday. That one was probably my fault. And,   I just beat one for an expired meter last week. In other words, I'm batting 1 for 5 with the car. Not a good average in baseball or  real life, is it? Eddie from Big Gray gave me that book, Zen Driving? I read it. I think I do drive like that. Trouble is, I don't do well with passengers in the car, so people don't get that. I like my car. I like driving.

The star ship commander who helped me restore propriety to my license plate this morning and I were having  our usual talk this morning- how "things are different than when you and I grew up". I told him I was writing a blog, and we shifted to communication and how "too much communication" can be a curse, and he allowed that it's so much easier to give tickets nowadays due to the improvement in technology. And that brought me back to the issue I've been wrestling with here that these young people who have been spoiling the margins of my beautiful park need to see. Nowadays, everything we do stays with us. Even a ticket for drinking or smoking in a park can mean the difference if you're trying to get a job, get into a school, join the Armed Services, or whatever. It's like Karma.

As far as I'm concerned, I might have to give my wife the car.

Life of a Trash Collector

I'm in the park now an hour a day 5 to 7 days a week. It's become an important part of my day- my gig. I visit the larger part of the park, once a week on average. Most of the time,however I'm dealing with the litterers of the the small strip of woods surrounding the park's kettle pond. On the other side, the woods and bridal path dominate the park's acreage.On the side where I work is the pond, the parking lot, picnic grounds, carousel and the golf course. The woods around the pond lead up a long thin ridge to the restored Dutch colonial farm house which has offices for the park administrators and their staff. The Urban Ranger headquarters is also on this side. The community bordering this part of the park is dominated by small single family homes with a large Mexican population, and some bigger homes and apartment houses that are occupied by other new immigrants and some "original" inhabitants. Queens neighborhoods are changing fast all over with new immigrants from third world communities in Latin America, Trinidad, Guyana ,India, Pakistan and Mexico. The impact on city parks in Queens doesn't seem to occupy much press in New York. A couple of years ago, Forest Park had to stop issuing permits for the picnic area to a community group consisting of people from one of those third world countries. It's a problem. We are dealing with populations who have no experience of our culture of National Parks and green area restoration. These are people who lived in parts of the world where garbage was either burned or dumped somewhere else. So, I've been thinking a lot about these things lately as I gather beer bottles, food containers, cigar wrappers and what not. Last week I encountered yet another site of a Santeria ritual. If you don't know, Santeria is a spiritual/magic tradition that began in Africa, and traveled to the Americas. Part of their ritual involves lighting votive lamps, leaving certain tokens and ritually killing a chicken. Apparently from the trash left behind, several people attend these rituals and eat and drink during them. It poses a dilemma for me, because I believe in honoring all traditions and as a magician myself, often conduct rituals in these woods. I never leave any litter behind, and make sure if I'm using incense that it can't start a fire but, all the same. I could have called the Park Manager who would send a crew to clean the site, but this time I decided to clean some of the mess, and leave the heart of the ritual. I left the sacrifice which I covered a bit more, the votives (which I had to extinguish), a plate of dried beans and a glass of liquid (wine?). I cleaned up a lot of plastic cups, food containers and attending trash including the ubiquitous beer bottles. Here's the rub. The people who conduct these rituals may have a connection to the woods as a sacred place, but they don't connect with the idea that leaving litter behind is a desecration.I'm struggling with the same dilemma then, that I have with the pot smokers. Any ideas?

Further Developments

Apparently, the "Che message" has infiltrated down. One of those who resonated with the core idea of my message "If you're going to partake in the park which we all know is illegal, then be impeccable about it" hung up a plastic garbage bag at the log. Four days later, yet another bag was in its place. Today, I will visit the park at 3:00. I will leave the sacred Dream Catcher icon in thanks and be prepared for contact with members of this other tribe.

Important Religious News

In a meeting this morning with a human from the Parks Department, I received permission to create the Red Trail, incorporating the woods I am a caretaker for with what the Rangers refer to as "Desire Trails" and circling the great pond of the Mother.Come, walk the Red Road with me, my brothers and sisters.

Che

Guerrilla Activity in the Park

So my friends, what am I doing with myself these days, you may ask. If you're reading the other blog (the one about the woods, not the Italian Grandma cooking blog), you'll have learned that I have been volunteering in nearby Forest Park picking up trash in the woods. Some may remark that that feels a lot like what I did at Big Gray a lot of the time.Old habits die hard. Anyway, I've been writing about it on the blog and doing what I could to drum up readership among the forest park community. As the "volunteer of the year" last year, I get a lot of access to the staff of the park, and as a blog writer, I hope to get a lot of support for my goal to have a litter-free park. As you may guess, readership is the key to getting publicity for one's cause, so I've been meeting people in and out of the park and have been handing out my "blog business card"and samples from the blog, AND, (unbeknown to the Parks Department,which couldn't condone this), I've been leaving my cards at some of my significant clean-up locations in the woods. In this way, I've been hoping to impact directly on the members of the littering community. Now, I happen to know that a large group of teenagers gather at the site of a fallen tree in the woods-one that they have decorated with graffiti in spite of attempts to prevent them by painting over the tree with a reddish brown paint which looks equally bizzare. This is the site for a lot of activity including smoking pot. The ground around this tree is covered with plastic "dime bags", and the foil wrappers from sweet flavored cigars which the kids combine with the pot. (Old readers will remember Steven's "English joints".) So, I wrote a note to these kids. I addressed it to the Brothers and Sisters of the Painted Tree, and basically told them that I will look the other way, as long as they pick up their own "evidence" and accompanying trash or (here's the stick), I will stir up trouble for them on my blog. I identified myself in the note only as Che, and left a calling card with a peace sign (ban the bomb) shaped like a yin/yang symbol and the word, Che in Rambo Killer font. It looks very cool!

Big Gray Reunion slated for April

If you're interested, let me know.

Guests

Guests were a great part of Big Gray's history. Sleepover or not, the presence of guests meant instant parties. That tradition continues at my little apartment in Queens. Yesterday, my wife and I entertained a certain Sam who came suffering guilt about not being there with his loving wife. Wifey and I put him right at ease and we had a very nice time and a great lunch. I love cooking for people, as most readers know. But being a private chef has made me really refine my technique. So I experimented on Mr. B. Made us spinach that I added to a pan of garlic, shitake mushrooms and boiled diced potatoes. I added a few beans and a little bow tie pasta and Shazam! Dessert later was World's Fair, Belgium Waffles! Who remembers them? Made them with organic strawberries I mulled in a little confectioner's sugar. Kitchen's open most Sunday afternoons.