“My neighborhood fortune teller just went out of business this past week! Apparently, the cops swooped down and caught her off-guard hiding receipts and failing to report income on her taxes.
“As she was led away in handcuffs, she was overheard muttering, ‘If only I had a fore-warning, I could have hidden all the documents!’ “
History sure has been unkind to peoples in different settings all over the world.
I often think of America and what a great country she is, and how blessed I am to enjoy her magnificence. But I also think of those who, from the inception, contributed to her present-day status. Europeans, African slaves, indigenous peoples, all participated, voluntarily, or involuntarily, in the formation and development of the United States of America. The blood, sweat, and tears of millions have left a trail and legacy in the history books.
Some have argued that it was a “Manifest Destiny,” a design by God, that Europeans should settle this great expanse and exploit its natural resources, and in the process create the greatest superpower in human history. Yet, though founded on the principles of equality and disregard for class, race, or religion, the nation took a few hundred years to live up to its professed doctrines.
One reflects on a history that also includes lands taken from Native Americans and enslaved labor brought to work those lands. Crimes against groups of peoples were part and parcel of the process. Somehow, it’s hard to look back with a Machiavellian perspective, and give a standing ovation on the basis of the philosophy that the end justifies the means.
Make no mistake, millions of Americans – born and naturalized – stand in awe of this great land. They are thankful to be a part of a country that affords everyone the opportunity to pursue their maximum potential – and to do so in a society that does not bow down to royalty or require social class or religion as a prerequisite to achieving the best in life.
I do wonder though why so many innocents had to be destroyed for a great country to emerge. Was it just another example of Darwin’s theory of the survival of the fittest? Was there really a “Manifest Destiny”? Was there no other way for such a magnificent country to emerge?
Perhaps the writer’s imagination in me rises too often and rouses my sentimentalities and consciousness to events of yesterday best left alone. Perhaps, one needs to focus absolutely on the status quo and the future. In my journey through life as a writer I often seek answers…and I am often bewildered at the sacrifice of untold millions throughout human history in all parts of the world.
Indeed history seems to have been unkind to many. Somehow, some events of the past six thousand years, and of today, in America and in different parts of the world, seem to counter the concept of a Divine Being. Maybe God has stepped aside to let us do our own thing? Maybe the metamorphoses that nations, societies, peoples, groups, individuals undergo are a constant struggle for superiority – without the intervention of a God?
What I do concede is that America’s history does have its blemishes – but so does the history of every civilization. Maybe the day will come when we no longer have to claim that it was divine destiny that some be sacrificed so that others could prosper.
Possibly, the answer is to accept the mistakes of the past without reference or need for divine justification. Perhaps, we all need to acknowledge that casualties are inevitable as history evolves…and that, as modern societies, we must learn to adapt, to minimize suffering, and try to enforce equity…and to continue our march forward, without looking back too much at the past…and without seeking divine justification for the acts of man.
There are so many who make a mad dash to be the first in some endeavor or attainment. Being first has its positives, and can be an exhilarating experience both for the one who gets there and for those who root for one.
If, though, in order to get there, you lack authenticity, try to appeal to all and sundry as being in accord with everyone, put on a phony act, or get to the finishing line via devious means orchestrated by some supporters and others who violate the rules of the game…if you attain a first time distinction or place like this, the facade will one day crumble.
You’ll end up a loser and those who wanted you to be the first will go away bitter and disappointed. Better to finish the race without pretense and let the time come when the genuine article gets there.
Being the first is not always the best – for you or for those who wish you well.
My roaming mind keeps moving in the misty past
Reviving dreams that did not last
Oh, that I could turn back the hands of time
And bring back those sweet yesterdays!
The hopes I’ve had are now become illusions
Like a broken piece of glass
My dreams lie shattered into a million pieces
My darling, that you still were by my side
Caressing the moonlight with your illustrious beauty
Holding me in your warm embrace
Oblivious to the screeching sounds
Of life’s unending race
But alas, time, immortal foe of man
Keeps moving on!
Without an adieu, you were gone
Leaving behind all the hopes and dreams we cherished
My passions, gone amok
Keep soaring above magnificent heights
Rivers of tears stream down my solemn face
This my only comfort, yet I cannot persevere
Enchanting One, Queen of my emotions
Enlighten his life the way you did mine
Love him with your tenderness
And make him feel divine
Let him taste the paradise of your lips
That once quenched my thirsty being!
Make him promises and give him dreams
But one thing, I pray
Do not offer him the cup of life
Only to take it away.
Alone, I feel the pangs
City dweller, I travail
Overwhelmed by the ordeals
Of my daily life
And overcome by the constant cacophony
Resounding through my enervated bones
Sinister faces encountered each day
Seem harsher along the way
Millions to my left and right
Yet my heart cries out in loneliness
Yesterday’s pastures
Ebb and flow from my mind
Offering transitory relief
Like they always do
Yet I pray, sweet precious memories
Do not fade away
For you are my only solace
In this jungled mass
I made my new home.
Referrals , My Friend?
A Peruvian friend of mine swore his sister would do the trick for me in getting me to meet some nice Latinas. Yeah, she introduced me to some alright – one was seeking a green card, the other was about to be deported, one was being fitted for new lower and uppers at the dentist, another was on a tummy tucking regimen, and when another giggled she made sounds that would put a rhino to shame. Yeah, they were all nice people. But I was looking for both nice and sexy.
Directions, Please!
I’m constantly encountering strange women that fascinate me. Story of my life – beautiful woman walks in front of me in subway car. I stand in awe. She gazes in my direction, makes eye contact, even asks directions. My knees buckle, I start to stammer, the directions won’t come out. Beautiful woman moves on to gray haired older guy horizontally bent over newspaper. He gives directions and even exits train with her to walk her to her address. I exit train, walk home by myself. Realize I got off at wrong stop. Once again I lose possible encounter with exotic stranger and miss stop to boot.
Nothing To Repent For?
In my own case, I often find myself regrettably, after a night of clubbing, ending up in church the next day with no sins on my record from the previous night for which to repent. And when I look behind all I see are a couple of ladies fixing their wigs, spitting gum, rubbing Bengay on their arms, and showing the marvels of Polident as they wink at me.
Chivalry Will Get You Nowhere!
A man has to be aware these days of strange vixens who wink and smile on a rainy day…no matter how lonely he might be here in NYC seeking a friend. I once took off my recently purchased Ralph Lauren overcoat and laid it on the street for the fair damsel I had never seen before but who was sultry looking and kept winking at me on a snowy, rainy winter evening years ago. She appeared to be distressed by the puddles all around near the traffic lights.
Not only did she take up my gallant gesture, she also took up my expensive overcoat, jumped into a cab and sped away leaving me shivering and ducking for shelter in a vain attempt to get some warmth. I ended up that night in a Mexican bar drinking tequila and talking to a drunk named Moe who kept telling me through hiccups and belches of the many lost overcoats he had witnessed from his bar stool near the window.
As you travel through life, never under-estimate your star power. You may not realize it, but you are a star.
The stars you see in entertainment news are stars too. Sometimes their stardom lasts a year or two, sometimes several decades. You star will last a lifetime. You have the power to make a difference in the lives of those you encounter each day along the way.
Your demeanor, disposition, personality, the vibe you exude, can put a smile on someone’s face – or take it away. You interact each day with someone – a neighbor, the mailman, a boss, a subordinate, a customer, a fellow passenger. The karma you give out will come back the way you send it out.
Yes, we may not all make the news, or bask in the spotlight of flashing cameras and neon lights – but we are all stars.
As you journey along, leave a twinkle, not a snarl or a bitter trail…and you’ll be a star whose glow need never fade.
The journey to success, my dear readers, can take many paths. There is no one road that leads there and when we arrive at our destinations, let us not compare our achievements in absolute terms to those of others.
Success can take many fashions, shapes, and forms. For some it may mean a whole lot of money in the bank or the attainment of an educational goal. For others it can be any point on a spectrum that includes a happy family life, helping a family member, relative, friend, even a stranger, along life’s arduous pathways, the overcoming of a physical, emotional, or personal handicap, career success…and a long list of other honorable goals.
Whatever our individual yardsticks for success are, let us always remember to occasionally stop and pause along the journey we must take, to take inventory and to give thanks, and assure ourselves that the sacrifices, the dreams, the goals are all for a good cause that can make us proud, and very significantly, let us be sure that we do not trample on others in order to attain our own dreams.
When we do reach that mountain top, we must be able to look back and say to ourselves that it was all worth it and that the success we each enjoy can be also be felt and enjoyed by those with whom we came into contact along the way and those waiting for us at the end of the road.
For no man is an island unto himself and what good is success if at the end of it all, one can look back and see only a trail of malevolent deeds and bitterness. If one is left standing alone at the end of the journey, one may well indeed have attained only a facade of success.
It’s funny how sometimes the mind reflects on some things long gone, or events that happened so many years ago. Take, for example, my early first experiences as an immigrant to the USA.
When I first set foot at JFK Airport, I noticed right away that America was a fast paced country and that the lifestyle was gonna be frenetic and frenzied. But I was equally surprised to hear everyone – from the Customs and Immigration Officer to the baggage attendant to the security officers – mutter about Moms under their breaths.
As a young, impressionable teenager setting foot for the first time in a vast country where I had preconceived notions of callousness and insensitivity, I was impressed that everyone thought so highly of mothers that they kept referring to them at every twist and turn.
Then when my bag accidentally rolled over an old lady’s foot and she yelled out for “Mother” followed by another word that I had never heard before in my Christian upbringing, I realized how wrong I was.
This was surely no celebration by anyone, or everyone, of mothers or of Mothers’s Day, 365 days, 24/7. as I had initially thought to myself in those early first hours of my American experience….”Reflections of A Writer”…Miles Alex.
The issues involved in the salvaging of neighborhoods and rehabilitating them so that they become livable and part of the mainstream of the city are complex and highly emotional. It seems sometimes that one’s perspectives are premised on one’s moral, religious, social, economic, and philosophical sentiments.
I do not pretend to know the answers to the complexities arising from the process. However, as a longtime NYC resident and average Joe who loves the Big Apple in its entirety – all five boroughs – I am concerned about how best to make every borough, every corner, every neighborhood of NYC a viable, livable place to be.
When neighborhoods decay through drugs, crime, poor and inadequate housing, lack of social services, we all suffer collectively. One can’t stick one’s head in the sand and say, “It doesn’t affect me, I don’t live in that part of town anyway.” Whatever happens in Bedford Stuyvesant, Crown Heights, South Jamaica, Mott Haven, Harlem affects us all. Decay tends to spread to other parts of town via spillover of criminals, lack of tax revenue, disgruntled citizenry, etc.
So here are some questions to ponder:
1. Do we gentrify neighborhoods by giving a green light to any developer who risks his/her capital and moves in to revitalize the community?
2. How do we deal with the issues of existing residents when the smoke clears, the dust settles, and we now have an abundance of hi-risers, businesses, good quality restaurants, movie theaters, entertainment and social infrastructure? Who picks up the tab? Should we expect older residents to pay more to enjoy the increased level of services and accoutrements? How much more? Market rates? What about if they can’t afford market? Subsidies? Or should longtime residents fall victim to the unbridled workings of free enterprise and be required to pick up and leave town? Where do they head out?
3. Does NYC in general have a moral responsibility to have as its residents all segments of society or should it be first come with the big bucks, first served? If market rate should be the new status quo, do we dismantle public housing, Section 8, rent control, rent stabilization? Is it okay for NYC to be the playground of the wealthy from within the state and country and from overseas – many of whom can afford pied-a-terres here – while others struggle to afford a roof over their heads in the place of their birth or where they’ve spent most of their lives?
4. Does morality or being my brother’s keeper belong in the discussion anyway? Shouldn’t housing and the right to housing be like with any other product on the market where demand and supply interact to determine price?
These questions are raised because I myself do not know all the answers. I struggle to come to terms with the grim reality of housing in NYC and sometimes there’s a conflict between my innate beliefs premised on ethical considerations and the concept of free enterprise and economic betterment. The whole theory behind our economic system is that the workings of the market result in the greatest good for the greatest number of individuals. Somehow, my conscience tells me that the basic needs of people for food, clothing, shelter cannot be left entirely to market forces.
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