Thursday, August 4, 2011

Week 1: KEYS- written from a Union Sq Loft

I would wage a bet that we all take the set of keys we have in our pockets and purses for granted, until they are lost, stolen or returned to their rightful owner… in this case my landlord. Like you, I had a ring of keys that offered a tethered commitment to the things I believed I needed. Without them, I felt a deep loss. My mailbox keys provided access to communications for maintaining my financial and physical health (mail order insulin). While there was often junk presented in a semi distracting way, my shredder was positioned to devour this treat. Since my move, I have decided to go completely green with all my accounts. Prior, I was flirting with this idea… now; my circumstance has tinted my chartreuse flirting to a full-on emerald green commitment. My keys unlocked my ability to increase discretionary income and provided an opportunity to host fishaFOOD events for friends, family and perfect strangers. "Enter as Strangers, Leave as Friends". As a divorced father my keys offered a consistent experience for my son and I to meet up, to vibe, to get our "chess on", to break bread discussing our discoveries, as a family and as individuals alike.

I returned my keys to my landlord leaving me with a balance of three keys. A single padlock key; permitting scheduled access to my belongings housed in storage.The first night I misjudged the closing time and had to wait until the next morning to retrieve work clothes. A key fob to my vehicle that offers transport of a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries. Most importantly, the prominent key I possess is in understanding that relationships I have formed are the most valuable possession I have. Friends and family have offered overwhelming support. Friends have offered their homes without reservation. My mother has fashioned a hub for routines to stabilize my life and keep me grounded. Her refrigerator holds my supply of insulin, her building provides a full complement of washers and dryers, her doorman holds packages and a fresh copy of the NY Times. My ex wife has been supportive in ways that I could not have imagine prior to this experience. Support reminiscent of why I first fell in love with her and continue to retain a friendship that is rooted in our combined commitment to parenting.

This week I found myself resting my head in a Union Sq loft, full of the creature comforts of a high efficient HVAC system, a comfortable full bed, forceful shower that washes away a day of uncertainty, wi-fi to stay connected to people I care the most about and company of a good friend. Thank you Lizzie! This week has been an amazing start to my experience of appreciating the places we call home and the keys that offer the best opportunity to connect with those we allow into our sanctuaries, communal environments and humble abode.

Tomorrow I am off to Dallas where I am sure I will exchange my credit card for an electronic key to a room at the Grand Hyatt. My stay will be brief, but I will be grateful to call it home for 48 hrs.  

Monday, August 1, 2011

homeLESS in Brooklyn

Wikipedia.com describes homelessness as the condition of people without a regular dwelling. People who are homeless are unable or unwilling to acquire and maintain regular, safe, and adequate housing, or lack "fixed, regular, and adequate night-time residence".
While it is true that I am currently w/o a place to call home, my story may not be very different from others who might have been “down on their luck” or "between places right now". In fact, I find myself in similar circumstances because I moved out of my beautiful Fort Greene garden apartment prior to closing on a Rockaway Beach home. Those who know me, know the beach was never my idea or passion... oh the things we do for love. Don't get me wrong, rental income on a two family home is logical and the beautiful curves on the figures of a 20-year tax abatement can be sexy as hell.  So long after the love is gone the logic remains firm. Timing however…
This is where the fishaCHRONICLE begins… so the closing didn't happen as planned and I find myself moving my belongings into storage. On Aug 1st three great guys showed up from asupermove.com and Chucky, the self proclaimed Michael Angelo of Moving, stacked my belongings masterfully in a 10X15 storage room. 

Artistically and efficiently, Chucky provided me with room enough to multi-task this inhibited roll top box into my makeshift walk-in closet. Our joint coordination left two wardrobe boxes filled with remaining suits, shirts and shoes that are easily accessible. My son's desk positions boxes of underwear, socks and toiletries at the ready for what may become my weekly visits to refresh supplies of dry cleaning, underwear, vitamins and insulin. 

I am just beginning to appreciate the term "home".