It All Started When Grass Started to Grow

Recently, I began working with Grassroots Campaigns, Inc. The office is downtown Manhattan. From 125th street, it takes me about 15 minutes to get to 30th street via Penn Station. It's so convenient, especially with the D Train and A Train running right next to my house. The other day on the train, this old homeless man was sitting at the far end of the subway. I didn't see him at first; all I noticed was the empty car in the middle of rush hour (yes, usually too good to be true). So I board, excited to get a seat and read. It wasn't until I sat that I realized the smell. What the hell was that? But I knew: it was an overwhelming fetor of urine. That's no exaggeration. It burned my nostrils and watered my eyes. My throat pinched and my lips began to curdle. The whole car was cleared out and only one brave soul (besides myself) was sitting, pretending as if one of his senses temporarily failed him. He was the stiff, white-collar type and all he'd do to show his frustration with the stinking man was to flip his newspaper extra hard, too frequently, in a spurious attempt to appear as if he couldn't get his paper to act right. I love NYC.

But back to Grassroots Campaigns, Inc. I've been working with the them for a little over a month. GCI raises money for independent campaigns for certain organizations. For example, they raised money for the Democratic National Convention during President Obama's campaign (GO OBAAAAAMA!) Currently, we're working on a Save The Children campaign where we're raising money for the most efficient relief organization on the planet. There is no other organization like Save The Children. They give .92 cents of every $1 earned to program services like wells for clean drinking water, preschools and education. They are, hence, the SHIT! I've enjoyed working with GCI and even more, participating within a framework of nonprofit and, somewhere in that framework, helping the babies. It's like an extension of my Peace Corps service and I'm proud of it. Although, I think it will be a million years before I live in the RIM again, although I'd be more than happy to visit. This Stella Artois is for you Mauritanie. Je t'adore et j'apprecie toujours. Vous avez aide me mouler!

Adding Adventures

I'm currently reading this book. I like Saul Bellows although the first book I read by him, I had to read and re-read until I was able to decompress his dense prose. That, for me, is part of the addiction to reading. The denser the concepts, prose, subject matter, the more the author draws me in. I haven't finished it yet--subway rides don't give me near enough time I need so I've reserved mornings for reading. Nothing like it.

The Boondocks--I love it...

Along with Reality TV, I also watch THE BOONDOCKS a lot. Just wanted to share a clip. Stinkmeaner...those who watch will know what I'm talking about and for those who don't, look it up.

My Homeboy Luis

I have a good friend named Luis who I lived near in Mauritania. He worked on the road from Selibaby to Goree, the boarder town to Senegal. He's from Portugal and he's the shit. So far, he's the only one who has read my work-in-progress novel. Well, it's finished, but just not quite where I want it. That's not to say that I didn't send it out to HELLA of people. They just didn't read it. But he did. This is what he had to say...and understand that English isn't his first language.


Friday, January 30, 2009
Bulge II
30 de Janeiro de 2009, sexta-feira. Caren said “Luis! That's why I love you! Are you telling me the truth? Don't lie, be honest...I need to edit it a whole lot more. Do you get it? The storyline I mean? Give me some details!” So let’s do it. I agree it still need edition. I consider it like a Beta version. Regardless, the story picked me up, transport me to places I’ve never been before, showed to me people Human, that goes trough situations that we all do. When I first started the reading and didn’t new either the characters or the story, I was expecting a lot from Mattel. She made me love her in the first lines. It was a character that had everything to be a heroin. It’s like if she was mend for higher scores in the course of life. So her path was bitter to me. When we love someone, we want the better for. Salim, could easily be a gangster and be killed or turn into a well succeeded business man. That was easy and expected. Anyone could have written that story. Where I think the magic start is when you gave to the most important, a sad destiny, without glory or violence, or without anything that made them be special. I mean, what made this characters be so special, is that they are not special at all. This direction you gave to de story, it’s like a cruel description of life, in our days. We’re just parts of the all. We’re pieces of the machine. Back to the Book! I think you only could be so cruel to Mattel, in the end, because you loved her too. You can’t be so sarcastic, to who is indifferent to you. To me, this story is not a story of lesbians or black people or middle class folks. Or Harlem, or Texas… I’ve felt’ it like a story of life, with people struggling for their chance, and to whom life is a bitch. This is the story of us all. We’re not mending to be heroes, villains or news in eight o’clock bulletin, we’re just ordinary folks, doing what everybody does. And that fact, although leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, is what makes me like more of the text. I’ve felt in the skin with pain, when you gave, specially to this characters, a destiny so humiliate, so ordinary. There are two different approaches to tell a story. You can make a story of Superheroes, or ordinary people. You can be sweet or can be hard. You can be pretentious and tell us a message or let us pick up our one. I understand that most authors - as owners of the text until it’ s published - take profit of and want to tell us about. If I was asked for, I would say, what I understood, is that “Life’s a bitch”.
Posted by Luis Pereira at 3:38 AM 0 comments
Labels: Books

Off the Handle!

Okay, I can't get enough of reality television. The shit is so absurd and ludicrous and delightful! The more scandalously vapid they are, the better. My favorites are on Bravo, The Housewives, but Man vs. Wild isn't bad either. Anyway, enough of that. I've posted a Chelsea Handler video because she's hella funny and hella offensive. Just like Reality TV.

It's Been A While...

This is the view from my building. The far cross street to the camera angle is 125th street, Harlem, New York. The Apollo Theater, a famous music hall, is a a few avenues away. Harlem swells with history and I can't help but to feel so grateful that I live here. New York is a delight and calling Harlem home is like an everlasting gratitude. I'm just happy to be a part of it.
I was excited about my first winter because I was tired of the heat. The Sahara's a bitch! So when the cold hit, I wasn't ready. The frigid, bone chilling, expletives inciting wind got my ass. One word can sum the freezing pain I felt that was worse than the worst heat of the desert- "Goddayum!" The cold realization of winter and what that meant for my toes, fingers, and B.A. (black ass) kicked in. Then I wanted to be back in Mauritania, with all the heat and fresh food. Not really, but it's nice to think about sometimes...