I don’t know what to do with this site but I will think of something.
This block was on Seventh Avenue on Times Square. I want to say this picture was taken around 1993-94. The theatre on the right was a weird theatre. I posted about it a while back. Each theatre ran up the building and the screen was on the ground floor. When you sat down you had to look down to see the movie. I have a short story about that donut shop though.
I visited that donut shop once. It was there forever. It was an old-fashioned coffee shop. It had a counter, stools with red faux-leather tops, menus lining the very tops of the walls and racks of donuts right underneath.
The one time I went in there I felt out of place. It was a joint frequented by regulars. Everyone knew the owner and his employees. There was a pretty Mexican girl at the counter. She spoke English with an accent. I ordered one of the best coffees I ever had. It was served in a porcelain coffee cup. I remember I was troubled but I don’t remember why. I know I was though. I went in there to get away from something.
The coffee was so good that I ordered one to go. She turned around and poured it in one of those famous Greek paper coffee cups with “We Are Happy To Serve You” on it. She was nineteen or twenty years old. She handed me the coffee cup and smiled. I smiled back and gave her a dollar. I told her to keep the change. Coffee was cheap back then. Fifty cents.
A few nights ago I purchased The Exorcist on Blu Ray. It will be the first time I have owned the film on any format. This is important and I will tell you why.
In 1974 my parents got into an argument. My mother stormed out of our Brooklyn apartment with me in tow. I was four years old. With nowhere to go, she decided to go to the movies. The movie she chose? The Exorcist.
The Exorcist was not only the first film I had ever seen in a movie theater but it is one of my earliest memories. It horrified me. I saw the entire film with my tiny hands on my face waiting to shield my eyes from whatever tomfoolery the devil had for Linda Blair.
When I decide to settle in and pop the disc into my Blu Ray machine, it will be the first time I have see the film in its entirety in forty two years. Wish me luck.
I mean no disrespect (to that end, I will likely disrespect some with what I am about to write), but I don’t get the “thoughts and prayers” thing.
I get ‘thoughts’ because quite honestly, I’ve done everything I could to avoid thinking too hard about the unspeakable tragedy that occurred in Orlando, FL just a few hours ago. But ‘prayer?’ I don’t get that.
Whatever logic I have tucked in my head leads me to believe that there is no powerful entity out there controlling the universe. There is no power that can either stop these tragedies from occurring or stop the sorrow that such sorrow causes. If there was, he/she would be an evil sadist.
I try not to regret things. Bad or good, what happened has happened. Good things end, bad things end. I must be grateful because these things mold me into who I am. I am growing. I am a living, breathing person, made of flesh and blood and bone. I’m not who I was yesterday nor will I be the same person tomorrow.
He built a huge wall around his house. It’s an impressive wall, a wall that people admire.
But a crime has been committed. There is a good possibility that learning about what motivated the crime is beyond his impressive wall and in his stately manor.
“Mr. Apple, could you help us gather information about this crime? All we need you to do is knock a hole in your impressive wall. We only want to enter once and we assure you no one, and we mean no one, will ever use your hole again.”
Mr. Apple looks around at his impressive wall and says, “You don’t understand. If I knock a hole into my impressive wall I won’t be able to repair it. Anyone could come in. People could walk right in and do all sorts of unsavory things. I’m not saying you will but, I don’t know, you might.”
Law enforcement looks at Mr. Apple and says, “You’re being untrusting and unreasonable. We’re the good guys. Make that fucking hole, Mr. Apple.”