Clearly Heading to the Beach

BLOOD DONATION

It’s all just a little bit sad.

My City.

I read a well written article yesterday, about the reason why my City won’t bounce back this time.

Then I refused to give a man directions to Coney Island from the first stop on the R train, until he put his mask on. He was a little bit nervous, because I told him he has to transfer at 59th Street. I assured him that I would be there when it was time for him to get off. It was interesting to watch him trust me less than his cell phone, especially when there’s no wifi between stations.

I continued to the beautifully stunning East Midwood Jewish Center, transferring to the Q train at Barclay's Center. It was deserted, a ghost town. That place is usually miserably packed.

On the both trains, I was amazed by people not wearing masks. I mean a majority of the people were. But I was mystified by the amount of people to whom the rules didn't apply. They were eating, drinking, and snacking. I mean I love a delicious bowl of mixed fruit on a hot summer day, but not now, not ever with my hands on New York City's mass transit. So I start to wonder (bad thoughts I know) what the hell am I doing, risking my neck to donate a pint of blood. I know that New York is in desperate need, and it had been a tremendously long time since I donated. I was totally embarrassed by the last address the New York Blood Center had on my file. But as they said, at least I actually had a file on their electronic system.

Did I really want a pint of my blood to go to that guy on the Q train, with no mask, who was spread across three seats, feet up, drinking out of a ginger ale can? Or that young woman, who looked as if she was family, who kept taking her mask off so she could Face Time? Or those two young men, drinking from a wine box, who were clearly heading to the beach?

I wished them each "peace, love, namaste" before I got off the train at Avenue H. The decision to me was clear. As my own advocate, I would indeed stick a needle in my arm to save anyone's life. That's it. That's my opinion. This is still my City.

Meanwhile, Jerry Seinfeld clapped back.

And then the New York Post clapped back at him.

Applause. Applause . . . applause. This is beautiful. It’s so . . . modern.

By the way, Jerry Seinfeld is from Massapequa. But I’m from North Massapequa, which means I went to Plainedge High School. It was there that I saw Steve Guttenberg, in 1976 in his senior play, which was “Applause.”

RESPONDING WITH ACTION

Ironically, Janji is currently holding their “Call to Adventure: a personal endurance challenge.”

Introducing Call to Adventure — an initiative to dedicate ourselves to something larger than our daily runs, as well as to inspire and motivate one another to think outside the box and tackle new adventures in our own backyard...literally or figuratively.

In the absence of a race calendar, join us as we push ourselves to tackle personal endurance challenges that have long been or newly added to our bucket lists.

Okay. I am going to give this thing a shot. My goal is to run the entire length of the Brooklyn Greenway. I have from this very moment, until October 31. I will start at a Point named Green, and hope to finish at a Beach named Howard.