Tags
s.'s erstwhile desultory lifestyle rears its destructive head now and then but less and less frequently and the hard practical facts of life are seen by him as an abstract challenge.
like the months that his palms were blessed with silver dollar sized weeping red sores. when he had cried a deluge of tears riding the subway from end to end, with nowhere to go. but that would be a 'down' period where totally exasperated with the difficulties of having a body not congruent with his spiritual expectations s. would be thrown into a state of chaos and confusion.
he complained to his english mentor, "why does life have to be so difficult?",
l.p. answered with an impish smile and soft words…
"but scott, that's what makes it interesting."
that stuck in his brain craw at first like a big piece of overdone meat trying to go down a dry gullet. he wanted to protest out loud but bit his tongue. he never wanted to appear the least bit disrespectful of this man who had always been so generous with him.
in between jobs was always a timeless period. s. would drop in on his friends, ravitsky or bruce sherman, a dentist who would rather be a potter. marty ravitzsky had furnished a dank basement on second street with handmade platforms and shelves. the ceilings were billowing indian and arabic sheets of colorful patterns with dim lights shining through. the shelves and cabinets marty had made in his shop a block away on second ave.
marty is on the left.
marty had first been a grade school teacher but after a three year sabbatical in morocco and a few years in the 'work', he hung out his shingle in the village voice and became a freelance carpenter. he would take any job from built in loft beds to polished 4"x4" wooden cubes for an advertising company. he always charged a lot and did very well; but he was a miser with money.
s. would work with him a few days when he was low on money and had nothing to do. the shop was well equipped with table saw, radial arm saw, band saw, routers and shapers and sanders and it always smelled wonderful to s..
"marty, i need an advance." s. would always say. and marty always screwed himself up and bellowed, "no!" in a way that sounded more irrevocably final than a mother denying her kids a mcdonald's happy meal. but s. was good at begging and always persisted until he got enough cash for a few days.
ravitsky was a natural cook and could throw together an arabic or macrobiotic meal in forty minutes or less; always fresh vegetables and sauces concocted with soy, miso and tahini. his open cupboards were lined with corked jars of grains, beans and exotic herbs.
one thing s. gave marty that marty always gave him credit for was friday nights at the steam bath.
******************************************************
all the men were wet and shiny. the faucets running water overflowing wooden buckets kept the steam room wet. the rocks in the oven were red hot. the small room was crowded. friday night at the russian steam bath on tenth street and it was standing room only.
six water faucets and as many wooden buckets served maybe twenty men of all shapes and sizes. it bordered on bizarre; giant bellies hanging so low they covered the genitals. and the bony men, hard workers and lean as horses.
if you had a friend and rented the oak leaf brush you could take a 'placer'. lying down on the top level on wooden planks the soapy lather somehow made the heat bearable. the men ministering to you were constantly dumping water over themselves to cool their brains. when it was over with both sides done and your thinking was blurred by the constant ebullient repartee' in the room, you would stumble out, shower and dive into the icy pool. of course it's better to wade in in a gradual sinking with the head last after your blood has cooled. diving in is a shock to the system which could cause a heart attack.
s. poured a bucket of freezing water on his head to relieve the heat. sitting on the top level after the second time in 'the cave', after a total cool down in the numbing pool, was the routine. then finally, staying as long as he could possibly bear the heat even with cold buckets, dazed and silenced, he would totter up to the beds on the second floor. after a brief nap, he'd throw on the white linen robe and join the men in the restaurant for cel-ray and pickled herring in sour cream.
anonymous said:
hobbs writes:charmant!Thanks Scott… so poetic.when we were there, i could swear that we were the only people younger than seventy years old– of course at our ages then, fifty seemed old.i do believe that the place was on St. Mark's Place, St. Mark's Baths which would be on 8th, but that can all be ferreted out, sculpted, rewritten if it needs to become a piece of writing for publication.i'm kind of an old relic now, the younger people know i fit in someplace but they're not sure where. i'm the old guy in the cap and ratty jacket who stands outside the door smoking cigarettes until its meeting time. –laughter, tears, tra-la!thanks, Scott, thanks a lot.–rh.
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
merci ron. :up:
LikeLike
trzcina said:
New Years Countdown Tickers
LikeLike
kentsopera said:
Friends18.com New Year Greetings
LikeLike
NitroH said:
The drawing depicts the story excellently and is also beautiful.I love your writing style but wonder why you refer to yourself in the third person….it does give it a new view though."why does life have to be so difficult?",l.p. answered with an impish smile and soft words…"but scott, that's what makes it interesting."I totally agree here, if life was all plain sailing, what would we learn from it, how would we appreciated it and how would we grow?Thank you for this master piece in it's entirety Scott, it was thoroughly enjoyable.
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
nitro,thanks for coming and the fine comment. you came like a flash. :lol:i started writing about my adventures in the first person but sometimes i got tired of talking about myself. this gives it a novel flavor and my voice can be more objective.all my life i used to amuse people with stories about myself and they always used to say, "you should write about this stuff." so that's what i'm doing.thanks again for your visit. :happy:
LikeLike
NitroH said:
I did at that……just call me Flash Nitro….hmmmm on the other hand, I think not.:yikes: I understand now, either way, I loved it and lived every word of it. I will be back….always wanted to say that.
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
you've got to say that in a low low voice. I'LL BE BACK… 🙂
LikeLike
NitroH said:
OOOOOH OK….I'LL BE BACK
LikeLike
LaHa511 said:
HAPPY NEW YEAR
LikeLike
SqueakeyCat said:
Free Myspace Layouts
LikeLike
KYren said:
Enjoyed reading. :up: Happy new year to you, Scott! :hat:
LikeLike
crystalacey said:
Friends18.com New Year Greetings
LikeLike
SqueakeyCat said:
Share Comments & Graphics – Layouts – Photobucket
LikeLike
edwardpiercy said:
"marty had first been a grade school teacher but after a three year sabbatical in morocco"Strange, but I've run into several Americans who did the Morocco thing. A downstairs neighbor of mine here, Bill Whitcomb (who has since died of diabetes) told me about his time there. He said he had a great pad there, mainly because he had a hanging light bulb outlet, which he could use to plug in this and that. Some of the other expatriates there would come over to use his electricity. :lol:I wish you a very happy new year, Scott.
LikeLike
NitroH said:
HAPPY NEW YEAR SCOTT. May happiness infest you like the fleas on a camel.
glitter-graphics.com
LikeLike
devans186 said:
Wonderful Artistry!Writing, brush, pen and life…….all of your expressions really make us less or no talented ones put our thinking caps on.Thanks Scott and HNY!
LikeLike
lavender988 said:
I want to congratulate you with the past New Year! It's a year of bunny, i wish you prosperity and happiness! You are the best!Scott, the first two pictures remind me our Banja–it's a place where people wash:) Russian sauna!:)
LikeLike
lavender988 said:
I know that after banja your soul is in your feet:) We say about our statement after hot banja
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
yes. the baths. le bain, el bano… russian style is the best. this place was built by ukrainians. thanks, katya for the wish for prosperity. :happy:
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
interesting. it brings you down to earth. 😎
LikeLike
lavender988 said:
Yeah, it's true!!!:lol:
LikeLike
PainterWoman said:
Finally trying to get caught up with all the blog reading I've been missing the last few months. I'll read your latest one first, then come back. As always, love the drawing Scott. The story was interesting but one thing….you can have those steam baths. I don't even like getting into a jacuzzi with all that hot bubbling water and steam. Did both once…maybe it's too claustraphobic for me but I don't like the hotness either. I've know at least three people who tried teaching for a year or two then….never again.
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
yes. katya. :smile:pam, sometimes you have to suffer a little to experience a new joy. the way you feel after a good sweat is well worth the discomfort. you sweat out all the poisons, then you become a little light headed (but happy and relaxed), then you have a fine meal and the world is your oyster.
LikeLike
cementmanjon said:
Another great nostalgic post for me. those times we spent in the baths and then out to eat Indian food were some of my favorite memories, I wish there was something like that place around here, but I think the locals would shut it down. :down:
LikeLike
IArtMan said:
jon, why don't you write down what you remember. that would be interesting. 💡
LikeLike
lokutus-prime said:
Excellent post, Scott ! :)- glad you also found some benefit in what we had discussed over at my place at http://my.opera.com/lokutus-prime/blog/2012/10/06/the-lady-in-red-beauty-the-camera?cid=97845012#comment97845012:cheers: and :up:John ….
LikeLike