If anyone still reads this, you may think I've given up...again. I haven't. What I'm planning to write is extremely time consuming. I plan to publish some articles on this blog that will take a lot of research and time spent in libraries. I'll be posting rather infrequently, but the posts will (hopefully) be worth the wait. In the meantime, I've decided to keep my online blogging alive with something else. It has nothing to do with the Valley. I decided to start this new blog as an outlet for my mind in terms of analyzing literature and film. I hope people check it out and a decent dialogue about ideas occurs. The link is below. Come and read.
Dead Rabbits
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Winter Morning on 19th Street
I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring and feel the usual ache of having to be at work at such an ungodly hour. The clock says its 7:12 and I scramble out of bed to get dressed. When I’ve done the morning routine—brush teeth, pack up bag, comb hair—I head out into the twenty degree weather. Across my street, Lafayette Ambassador Bank has a large digital display that alternates between the time and temperature. I walk to the corner store and pick up a copy of the Saturday Morning Call. At the counter, I share grumblings and complaints about the hour with the clerk. I’ve bought countless items from him over the past few years and have yet to find out his name. We part with a nod, and I walk down to the Hava Java.
I pass Salvatore’s pizzeria, not yet open, and see my reflection in the window. I smile at my tired appearance and keep walking. I pass the empty space that once held Noah’s Biscuit Barn and think of the times our customers would bring dogs into the shop and feed them elaborate treats. I was always tempted to take a bite of one of those biscuits, they always looked delicious. Now, Noah’s is gone and an empty window sits to reflect the street and wait for a new owner.
I cross the alley and stand in front of Hava Java for a few minutes before unlocking the door and opening the shop. I look at Civic and wonder how many people will brave the weather to see a movie in the afternoon. A Christmas Carol has just ended its run and I see a few people come outside with chunks of leftover staging. At this hour, the street is empty. I look to my left and right. Not a car is on 19th street. The light changes from red to green without notice.
The inside of the shop is dark and the chairs sit atop the tables like those old cartoons where a mouse would run out and some person would shriek and jump up on the counter. There isn’t a note on the register to give me a list of chores, so I turn around and brew the morning’s first pot. The aroma fills the shop and wakes me up. I bring down the tables and chairs, turn on the lights, and get everything ready. The smell of pastries and coffee floats in the air and hugs the walls. With everything ready, I take my place at the corner table and flip open the Call’s Lifestyle section. The crosswords are waiting for me. I tackle the NEA first and then move to the easier of the two.
Midway through the second crossword, just as I’m jotting epee for seven down, my first customer walks in. I know him. He comes in every morning and orders the blend of the day. Today the French roast awaits him. He smiles and proclaims today’s blend as his favorite. I smile and pour the cup making sure to leave an inch for creamer. He exits with a wave and a thank you. I return to the corner, knowing that the regulars will be in soon. I am not wrong.
Bill comes in and gets a small cup of the blend. He sits in the corner, one leg up and grades his students’ papers. The guy from the Jewelry store walks in and gets two mediums to go. The guy with the bushy sideburns orders a small jolt to go. They come in and out, each with their own order, each with their own story. I listen to them and offer whatever insight a 23 year old kid can.
As the day draws on, the marquee at the theatre lights up. I know to check the carafes and stock the sugar. The theatre folks will come in beforehand and order coffee before the film. They sit in their seats, sipping cappuccinos or lattes and I’m reminded of the beauty of this street. It is a place where the troubles of life are forgotten, and for a brief span of time the only thing that matters is biscotti and a movie ticket.
The moviegoers leave and I realize that my shift has almost expired. I stock the paper cups, wash the dishes, and make sure the shop is in order for the next employee. Steve from the Quillian comes in and orders a small coffee. I ring him up and chat about business. He sits in the corner and reads a magazine. My relief walks in and I go through the list of things that have been done, and the list of what needs to be done. We say our goodbyes and I pack my things and go.
The weather is still bitterly cold. The marquee is lit up and the box office sells tickets for the afternoon show. I pull my coat closed and walk up the street. Sal’s is now open and people are walking in and out of the door with boxes of pizza, steaming in the cold. The hair salon on the corner is open and I wave to the hairdressers. Too busy with work, my wave goes unnoticed. I cross the street and look at the bank’s clock. It’s just after three thirty and the weather has peaked at twenty-six degrees.
I turn around before going home and look down 19th street. Driving past, it is not a marvel. The theatre may draw a few gazes but for the most part our street is just the 19th one in the city. We live here and we work here. It has great potential for growth. I look down the street and see names, not businesses. I see neighbors and friends. I see what I want others to see. With a little help and a lot of work this street has the potential to be great. Perhaps more people should throw the problems of life away and sit down for biscotti or a slice of pizza or a good movie.
I turn and walk into my house. The street will be there tomorrow. I will be there tomorrow. We’ll be there tomorrow.
I pass Salvatore’s pizzeria, not yet open, and see my reflection in the window. I smile at my tired appearance and keep walking. I pass the empty space that once held Noah’s Biscuit Barn and think of the times our customers would bring dogs into the shop and feed them elaborate treats. I was always tempted to take a bite of one of those biscuits, they always looked delicious. Now, Noah’s is gone and an empty window sits to reflect the street and wait for a new owner.
I cross the alley and stand in front of Hava Java for a few minutes before unlocking the door and opening the shop. I look at Civic and wonder how many people will brave the weather to see a movie in the afternoon. A Christmas Carol has just ended its run and I see a few people come outside with chunks of leftover staging. At this hour, the street is empty. I look to my left and right. Not a car is on 19th street. The light changes from red to green without notice.
The inside of the shop is dark and the chairs sit atop the tables like those old cartoons where a mouse would run out and some person would shriek and jump up on the counter. There isn’t a note on the register to give me a list of chores, so I turn around and brew the morning’s first pot. The aroma fills the shop and wakes me up. I bring down the tables and chairs, turn on the lights, and get everything ready. The smell of pastries and coffee floats in the air and hugs the walls. With everything ready, I take my place at the corner table and flip open the Call’s Lifestyle section. The crosswords are waiting for me. I tackle the NEA first and then move to the easier of the two.
Midway through the second crossword, just as I’m jotting epee for seven down, my first customer walks in. I know him. He comes in every morning and orders the blend of the day. Today the French roast awaits him. He smiles and proclaims today’s blend as his favorite. I smile and pour the cup making sure to leave an inch for creamer. He exits with a wave and a thank you. I return to the corner, knowing that the regulars will be in soon. I am not wrong.
Bill comes in and gets a small cup of the blend. He sits in the corner, one leg up and grades his students’ papers. The guy from the Jewelry store walks in and gets two mediums to go. The guy with the bushy sideburns orders a small jolt to go. They come in and out, each with their own order, each with their own story. I listen to them and offer whatever insight a 23 year old kid can.
As the day draws on, the marquee at the theatre lights up. I know to check the carafes and stock the sugar. The theatre folks will come in beforehand and order coffee before the film. They sit in their seats, sipping cappuccinos or lattes and I’m reminded of the beauty of this street. It is a place where the troubles of life are forgotten, and for a brief span of time the only thing that matters is biscotti and a movie ticket.
The moviegoers leave and I realize that my shift has almost expired. I stock the paper cups, wash the dishes, and make sure the shop is in order for the next employee. Steve from the Quillian comes in and orders a small coffee. I ring him up and chat about business. He sits in the corner and reads a magazine. My relief walks in and I go through the list of things that have been done, and the list of what needs to be done. We say our goodbyes and I pack my things and go.
The weather is still bitterly cold. The marquee is lit up and the box office sells tickets for the afternoon show. I pull my coat closed and walk up the street. Sal’s is now open and people are walking in and out of the door with boxes of pizza, steaming in the cold. The hair salon on the corner is open and I wave to the hairdressers. Too busy with work, my wave goes unnoticed. I cross the street and look at the bank’s clock. It’s just after three thirty and the weather has peaked at twenty-six degrees.
I turn around before going home and look down 19th street. Driving past, it is not a marvel. The theatre may draw a few gazes but for the most part our street is just the 19th one in the city. We live here and we work here. It has great potential for growth. I look down the street and see names, not businesses. I see neighbors and friends. I see what I want others to see. With a little help and a lot of work this street has the potential to be great. Perhaps more people should throw the problems of life away and sit down for biscotti or a slice of pizza or a good movie.
I turn and walk into my house. The street will be there tomorrow. I will be there tomorrow. We’ll be there tomorrow.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Writing Opportunities in the Allentown Area
As I watch the art scene in Allentown grow, I am left on the sidelines with a pen and paper in my hand. I have taken the route of writer, and I see few who have taken the same route. Because of this, A friend and I decided to begin changing that atmosphere. Our efforts began small but have grown into wonderful opportunities for the writers of the Lehigh Valley. I will list those activities below, but I must take a moment to mention a few things.
The Allentown area does not have a lack of writers. The problem lies in the fact that the writers in Allentown do not have an area to express their medium and receive feedback. Through my work, I have come across a few organizations that try and create such an area. The Lehigh Valley Writer's Group has been around for years. They specialize in fostering a writing community in the area. Click HERE to be taken to their website. I met a man named Yodi who runs Word Wednesdays down at the Allentown Brew Works. That event gives a broad spectrum for artists the chance to share their work with a crowd. For more information follow this link These two groups are a great resource for writers. I would recommend them to all aspiring authors and poets.
In the summer I approached a good friend of mine, Joe, about starting some writing initiatives in Allentown. After a few weeks of planning we started what is now known as the Hava Java Writer's Workshop. We meet every Sunday from 6 p.m. until 8 p.m. At the meetings we spend the first hour critiquing the work of one of our members. The second hour is spent discussing some aspect of the literary world, whether it is the writing process, an essay, or grammar and style. We feel the success of our workshop comes from the dedication of its members. We do not sit around and argue about trivialities. We focus on bettering ourselves as writers and learning from each other. If you find interest in such a workshop come down to the Hava Java on 19th street any Sunday evening and join us. We would be glad to have you.
The other project I am currently working on is much larger and more demanding. One of the key aspects to having a successful writing community is to have a publication of our local writer's works. That is why my friend Joe and I partnered to make such a publication come to fruition. The Halicarnassus Literary Magazine is currently accepting submissions. We hope to have our first issue out this spring and publish bi-annually afterward. This project is large in scope and I cannot do it justice with a small explanation. Instead, I will direct you to our blog and facebook page. Send us a friend request and we will add you. I believe that this project has great potential and greater meaning. The writer's throughout this broad valley deserve a forum to share their work. The goal of Halicarnassus is to provide that forum.
I hope the information provided helps those writers out there searching for a community. Keep up to date and keep informed.
Halicarnassus links
Blog
Facebook Page
The Allentown area does not have a lack of writers. The problem lies in the fact that the writers in Allentown do not have an area to express their medium and receive feedback. Through my work, I have come across a few organizations that try and create such an area. The Lehigh Valley Writer's Group has been around for years. They specialize in fostering a writing community in the area. Click HERE to be taken to their website. I met a man named Yodi who runs Word Wednesdays down at the Allentown Brew Works. That event gives a broad spectrum for artists the chance to share their work with a crowd. For more information follow this link These two groups are a great resource for writers. I would recommend them to all aspiring authors and poets.
In the summer I approached a good friend of mine, Joe, about starting some writing initiatives in Allentown. After a few weeks of planning we started what is now known as the Hava Java Writer's Workshop. We meet every Sunday from 6 p.m. until 8 p.m. At the meetings we spend the first hour critiquing the work of one of our members. The second hour is spent discussing some aspect of the literary world, whether it is the writing process, an essay, or grammar and style. We feel the success of our workshop comes from the dedication of its members. We do not sit around and argue about trivialities. We focus on bettering ourselves as writers and learning from each other. If you find interest in such a workshop come down to the Hava Java on 19th street any Sunday evening and join us. We would be glad to have you.
The other project I am currently working on is much larger and more demanding. One of the key aspects to having a successful writing community is to have a publication of our local writer's works. That is why my friend Joe and I partnered to make such a publication come to fruition. The Halicarnassus Literary Magazine is currently accepting submissions. We hope to have our first issue out this spring and publish bi-annually afterward. This project is large in scope and I cannot do it justice with a small explanation. Instead, I will direct you to our blog and facebook page. Send us a friend request and we will add you. I believe that this project has great potential and greater meaning. The writer's throughout this broad valley deserve a forum to share their work. The goal of Halicarnassus is to provide that forum.
I hope the information provided helps those writers out there searching for a community. Keep up to date and keep informed.
Halicarnassus links
Blog
Facebook Page
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Welcome to my blog
Some of you may know me from my previous blogging efforts. As I've spent more time in the area of blogging, and come to a greater understanding of its many uses, I have decided to write a blog that explores an area of Allentown few others explore. Many of the blogs focusing around this wonderful city choose to focus on political issues. From my experience, those issues can tear a writer apart. I applaud those who have the fortitude to run headlong into the political arena and have their names defiled. As for me, I would much rather sit back and observe what has yet to be observed. To write about the history of this great city and see what few have seen. Essays regarding the history of this great area will be done with the highest journalistic integrity. As such, the frequency of posts will be hard to maintain. To keep things fresh, I will comment on those issues that mean the most to me. Expect frequent announcements on the revitalization of the West End of Allentown. This blog will also act as a way for me to communicate with the other writers in the Lehigh Valley. As a student of professional writing, I have a passion and love for the craft. I know that there are many other writers out there that deserve a voice. I will make sure to update this blog with any information I have in regards to the writing community and events therein. I hope those who enjoyed my previous blog enjoy this one as well, and I welcome those who just so happen to find this page. Allentown has a rich history and a growing art culture. I will be here to show you our past and our future.
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