We'll accept it as a gift

8/21

The day begins with my longtime attorney Harris reviewing the details of the deal we're ready to make. When he hears about our prospective partner, he's very excited.  He says This is the right time, the right city and the right neighborhood.  And he immediately begins helping to develop a  strategy to build community, religious and political support. 

Back to the church after an Occupy Faith meeting. Lots of good ideas...we really do need to develop a statement of principle that recognizes that this is a different moment. A moment of both global crisis and hope. And about transformation, a new way of living. I continue to be concerned about the grayness of our group. Somewhere out there young people of faith are creating their own realities and responses. I need to know what's going on.  The scattered atom particles of Occupy are being attracted like  metal filings to a magnet to the weekend of September 14th leading up to the 17th, the one year anniversary of the Zucotti occupation. As many events as there are atoms are being planned.

A friend of Chris the boiler guy has come to have me resign documents from last winter regarding the boiler. Apparently an error or two.  Many, many copies to sign. And one document needs a notary so we need to head down the street  to Chase to find one. Turns out she does some kind of healing work and would be interested in renting space. 

Earlier I had noticed Edward and Charlotte on the steps and can't avoid dealing with them any longer. She is stretched out. He beside her, sitting. Edward, you guys have to go, I say.  She's resting, he says. I start to say, Doesn't matter....but she opens her eyes and says I'm having a fucking asthma attack...you go fuck yourself... Edward pats her leg, says, Don't...calm down now...and looks up at me.  And she starts to hack and cough and gasp. A half empty 40 behind her.

Look, I say, she's got an apartment. She'll be better off there. You need to take her there. If she's really bad, I'll call an ambulance.
 Nah, nah, he says, I'll take her. And slowly,still coughing, she begins to rise, steadying herself on the scaffolding rails. Only after I see them  head to the corner do I wonder if he may be banned from Capitol Hall due to the earlier incident with Mike the Boxer. 

Inside, Karen is playing the piano. Jonah is listening. He's anxious for me to hear him play. Tells me he's back and forth between the Upper West and Lower East Sides.  Tells me he's got a job as an associate music director at a church. Can't remember the name.  So I listen. His fingers move easily. Light, semi-classical. Maybe....I ask Does he read musoic?.He says yes. I open the hymnal. As he struggles his way through, I know this won't work. I'm better on guitar he says. So I go get Amanda's New York guitar and bring it out. Uh, I'm better on classical he says. And he plays some decent classical on the tough metal strings.  I've had all kinds of experience he says. The playing is decent, but...And I sing...I look at him. But I'm shy. Always wanted to sing in a church choir, you know, like Bach? I love that. 

Me too, I say. I ask him how he's doing. 

Great! he says with that too broad smile. I want to say, Dude, go home. It's not going to work here...I'm tired of wandering lost souls. But so it is. I tell him I'll be gone for a few days. Will call him next week.I go to put the guitar back. He's  outside the Session room, listening to Martin's flamenco music. 

Marc stops by. Says with amazement that we got through the weekend rains with a dry basement. The drains worked. He doesn't know why. We'll accept it as a gift, I say.