15

(I rewrote this entry and read it in a writer's lab over the weekend)

"15"

They're ready for me.

My name is called along with Tony's and a blond guy I've never seen before. The nurse leads the three of us past reception, down a long hallway, making a left at the very end into the IV room. The IV room is nearly full, so we sit clumped together at the far end, by the door (the less desirable location).

Tony, I already know.

Last week during our IVs, he recommended a recipe for kale.

Add pan roasted pumpkin seeds and olive oil. I made it - substituting acorn squash seeds and it was good.

Tony, I learned, is a rock musician from Park Slope and comes to Manhattan for a weekly IVof vitamin C. He looks (to me) like he's recently escaped the dark world of drugs and rock and roll, but today he grins and preaches the good word of vitamin C and an all organic diet.

We sit. I disengage.

I read my book, a book about the power of antioxidants; about glutathione, coque 10, alpha lipoic acid, and vitamins A, C and E. I try to focus, but this guy Max pops his head though the door and starts talking to the blond guy sitting across from me. Max runs the supplement store at the clinic. Max bugs me. Last week, I requested a supplement from Max. I was told by the nurse to speak to him about getting NAC, a form of glutathione before it becomes glutathione.

“Are you Max?”

(lost at his computer)

“Um... What? Max? No... I'm not... wait. What? Yeah, I’m Max.”

Max couldn't find the NAC. The nurse had to go into Max's vitamin store and retrieve it for me.

So today I can't look at Max. I can't stand Max.

Max and the blond guy are talking about a show. "The hang went well"Max says (as in the light hang - I think). They talk "DUMBO". They talk "NOLITA". They use the work "dude" (a lot). They knock their knuckles together in fraternal solidarity.

This is grating.

I want to focus on my reading. I want to learn why L Carnatine is important to take with Glutathione, but I can't. I’m in the middle of "dude" conversation. I've become irate. So I decide to change the situation. Instead of silent rage, I’ll join in! I push my heels into the floor and say,

"Are you guys talking about a show?"

But my voice is too weak so they don’t hear me. d

After Max leaves, after my Glutathione and B12 injection, I try again.

“Hey! Are you guys actors?!”

Blond guy is startled.

“What?! Me? An actor?" His eyes widen. He clears his throat. "Oh G-d no. I could never do that. I could never be an actor. I don’t have the strength to be an actor. No, I have friends who are actors. All that discipline? No, I could never do that.”

He seems flattered to be mistaken for an actor and this humility gives him an air of integrity.

The fist bumping dudeness recedes and a likable candidness replaces it.

“I thought I heard you guys talking about a show and a tech... hanging lights?”

He smiles.

“No, we were talking about ART shows. We were talking about hanging PAINTINGS. We’re artists... and I’m also a musician. We’re not actors.”

"Oh. I see, I get it. My name is Charlie, by the way."

"Ellery."

Ellery looks like I’ve woken him from a nap and because of his blond, callow, handsomeness, and because earlier he had talked loudly and confidently (in front of me) on his cellphone (an intimate call - where he complained about sleeping twelve hours a day "because of the MS" - he ended the call with “I love you” and I thought - GOOD! That’s what I'll do to heal myself! I'll end every one of my phone-calls with “I love you") - because of these things, I assumed he'd offer a polite answer and blow me off.

But Ellery doesn't blow me off. In fact, he seems concerned I'm paid my due respect. His germanic complexion is flushed (as if he’d always had a crush on me) and now that I’ve finally spoken to him, he's absolutely flummoxed. He darts (in and out) of uncertain smiles, but keeps his focus on me.

His attention encourages me. I'm now "in" with Tony AND Ellery.

“Hey are you working mostly with alternative medicine or are you basically using mainstream, western stuff?”

“Oh Gosh... I was, I mean, I’ve had this, I’ve had MS... since I was like twenty-one and I’m thirty-four now, so I’ve gone through different strategies, for sure.”

Ellery looks honest but nervous in a bemused way, like he's confessing his gambling addictions, (sad but whacha gonna do?)

“The last medication gave me panic attacks. I’m still not over them. They’re awful. And once you get them, your mind teaches you, you have no control over them, that you’re at their mercy. They’re pretty awful.”

He seems amused at how awful they are.

“Yeah, I’ve had those... (25 years ago) you kind of have to relax, and roll with them, and train your mind not to experience them as scary.”

“Right, exactly, yeah I get that. I know! But after that, I decided no more western medicine for a while. I’m just so tired. I got to keep working at this. I'm really tired of being tired."

Ellery looks remarkable healthy and put together for someone sleeping away his life. He's wearing clean topsiders, pastel geometric socks and an ironic madras preppy shirt. It's not an actual look, it's a comment on a look. He looks great.

Maybe Ellery doesn't have MS anymore (I think).

“How did you know that you had MS? How did you first know that something was wrong?”

“Half my body froze in four days. I was paralyzed.”

“Geeze! Did you go blind too? Someone told me that you go blind when you get MS.”

“No, but I had double vision for like, two years. I was stuck in bed. My friends would come over and visit me as I lay there with water just falling out of my eyes. I couldn’t control it. It was so weird. No wonder they stopped coming over. It was freaky, man.” Ellery tells me this with a half formed smile on his face, a smile that conveys both amusement and horror.

Maybe I can help Ellery out.

“You know, have you been on the website "Patients Like Me" I offer. "It’s kind of like Facebook, only with diseases. It’s great for research.”

“Thanks. I’ll check it out, but I think I'm done with research. I couldn’t get out of bed for a few years... I just slept and read medical journals, so I think at this point, I’d rather be out there... doing... know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do, but I’m new to all of this so I can’t really get around reading and research. I don't have what you have. It's in the same world but it's not really the same thing. I'm kind of guessing at what to do. Today I’m getting a glutathione push and a B12 shot.”

“Oh sure, I used to do B12 shots everyday in San Francisco. Just a quick jab to the leg...

Hey! write this down. Do you have a pen?”

I grab a scrap of paper and a pen from my bag.

“Yup, go ahead.”

“L.D.N, you might want to try L.D.N."

“Right!! That’s what... that’s been recommended to me before. I need to get on that! There’s just so much to look into. I’m going crazy. I feel like all I do is take pills and eat, and when I’m not eating, I’m waiting until I have an empty stomach so that I can (again) take the pills I need to take on an empty stomach!”

“Yeah man, welcome to my world! All I do is pop pills. I bet we could have a contest in this very room to see who could get down more pills in the shortest amount of time.”

Tony pipes in,

“Dude, I’d lose that one! I hate swallowing the pills.”

Because Ellery is so handsome and youngish and vulnerable, I blush as we lock eyes. Maybe I’m getting my signals wrong. Maybe we’re not talking about disease at all, maybe we’re flirting. So I lower my energy. I dim my wattage. I check my watch. I fiddle with my iphone. I try to convey to him that we can break the conversation off, whenever we need to, whenever it's convenient, but I can’t help myself from asking more questions.

“So, you come here for a vitamin C drip?”

“Vitamin C and others.”

“I’m here for glutathione.”

“I love glutathione. That’s my favorite. I’m having some after this. I take it at home. It’s really a favorite of mine, makes me feel... just right... you know?”

“I know! But it’s so expensive.”

“Tell me about it. I come in here once, twice, a week. It adds up.”

“And the hundreds of dollars for supplements every week.”

“This is my life.”

“I mean I’d like to try the oxygen tank, but it costs so much.”

“Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy. I love it. Really can feel the difference.”

Tony adds, “I dig it too. Love that Oxygen tank. Oxygen rocks" (like he’s talking about mescaline).

Compared to Ellery, I'm feeling like a slacker, so I come up with a list of my own, practical, less expensive, therapies.

“Well, I’m just trying to eat organic and...”

“Organic, yeah, of course! I mean that’s a given. I wouldn’t touch anything that wasn't organic. No way.”

“And I’m trying to clear toxins from my apartment.”

“I’m right there with you. I keep the windows shut and the air purifiers going.”

“ I take long baths to relax.”

“Sure relaxing is good, but how you can trust the city water? You’re lying in a tub of water filled with toxins, letting them seep into your pores... I mean, I guess I think of everything but I have all my water delivered and then, I purify it again, I put some quartz in it to make sure it’s okay.”

This is unbelievable. I thought I was going overboard avoiding wheat. “ Where do you get the quartz?"

"San Francisco. They're years ahead in the world of healthcare. All those hippies."

"It just seems like so much.”

“I got to do it. My body is filled, WAS filled with so many toxins. Mercury.

It took me years to get the metals out.”

“How do you think they got there in the first place?”

“When I was younger, I lived in California and here in the lower east side. Both places had areas of heavy construction, in the buildings I lived in, and all around me. The dust from the construction, the metals and poisons ... I really think it did me in.”

“Wow" I nod, my face a mask of regret, "I actually moved into the building I'm lving in now when it was under construction. They hadn’t even finished dry-walling. I was a mess for months.”

“You got to watch out for that stuff" Ellery adds ruefully.

“What about everyday things, like the microwave? Do you use the micorwave?”

“I would NEVER use a microwave.”

“I just got rid of all my household cleaners. Now I clean my entire apartment with JOY dish-washing detergent and vinegar.”

“You know, JOY has Sodium Lauryl Sulfate. That’s a carcinogen. I don’t let any of that stuff near me."

“What do you use for shampoo and toothpaste?

Ellery looks particularly well groomed.

“You just have to look for the good stuff. Go to Whole Foods. They've got a lot of good products.”

“There are so many things to investigate. It’s hard to know if any of them are working.”

“Right, you have to do what feels right for you. For me, it’s really a control issue. I come in for my glutathine or vitamin IV and I feel like I have it under control. That’s what's at the basis of all of this, these antioxidants, it allows me some control of the disease... which is completely contrary to how I was brought up, a buddhist, which of course encourages you to let everything go."

Ellery doesn’t look like he was raised as a Buddhist, but what do I know.

We continue our discourse in the the sad and hilarious, the - “what is to be done about it”. We’re speaking at a pace that doesn’t allow for pauses.

We can’t help but top each other, like we're falling in love.

“I just feel like it’s overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming. Sure. But when I don’t do everything Charlie? When I'm not totally committed? When I'm not giving it two hundred percent I can really feel myself slipping. So there’s my choice."

At this point, I feel like I should abandon the conversation.

Something about it that feels wrong, a compelling free-fall that’s not disciplined or prudent.

And as I pause, as I retreat, a young woman invades our alliance.

“Hey, my name is Abigail. So sorry to interrupt, I couldn’t help listening. Did I hear you say you lived in San Francisco?”

Abigail is twenty (or thirty?) She has long braids and a round face with a rash. She wears corduroy shorts over black tights. When she moves, she reminds me of a doll filled with sand. But when Abigail speaks, she is modern,confident, her irregular body a minor inconvenience.

"I so identify with feeling (the fall) when I’m not giving it one hundred percent. And I think I heard you say you were from San Francisco? I’m moving there real soon, and would love to get some names of doctors and clinics?”

This all feels familiar, like I’m at an audition and Abigail is asking for the name of a decent headshot photographer.

Ellery scrolls through his (small computer phone device) to retrieve the relevant information as Abigail continues...

“And I know just what you mean by mainstream medicine. I had to get off it. I’ve had rheumatoid arthritis my whole life. I’ve always had it. It’s always been a part of my life. But things have really turned around since I started seeing this homeopathic doctor on west 49th. He's amazing..

Abigail asks Ellery if he wants the homeopath's number, Ellery looks uncommitted, so I butt in ... “I want it! I want his number!”

She hands me his number, I introduce myself and we’re all feeling cozy, like we’re handing out business cards at a meet and greet.

Then Abigail says (looking at me) “So, you have MS too.”

And, I decide to risk it. I decide to expose myself. Because after all, we’re ALL sick here. We’re all brothers and sisters on this scary boat ride. Right? We’re all united in our untreatable illness.

So... I show what I’m playing with, I reveal myself and say,

A... L.S.

I have A... L.S.

There is a marked change in our triangle. Ellery (in an instant) reassesses our conversation. Abigail has a look... a look like I’m marked for execution.

This went all wrong (I think). They were supposed to toss it off. We’re in this together. Right? Ellery? Abigail?

But you see, in the remote and cozy community of illness - I'm in, I'm included but only to a point. My disease is fatal. Their diseases? Not so much. I am an outsider. I am in the unenviable position of being the most pitiable. Even in the world of heartbreaking disease, there is hierarchy.

Abigail retreats to her seat across the room and I try to win Ellery back.

“I mean, it’s just a name. I don’t KNOW that I have this... Mary Baker Eddy says not to identify with the names of diseases. She wrote that people try on the names of diseases like theyr'e trying on the latest fashions from Paris.”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess you need the name to get around, to get your insurance and stuff but, you’re right. Naming it can be a problem.”

I can actually feel myself chemically altered by their reaction, and as I step into the next room to pay for my treatment, I vow NEVER to tell anyone the name of my suggested disease again. The look of (fear and sympathy) are tiny drops of arsenic in my glutathione IV.

At the check-out desk, Ellery genlty squeezes my shoulder, a show of support, like I got my diagnosis an hour ago.

Abigail too seems more interested in me.

As she passes me at the cashier, she asks for my name again, like she didn’t quite realize she was talking to such a real player.

And Ellery and Abigail can step back out onto the street, relieved they are not me. They’ve gained perspective. Ellery will go to an art show opening tonight in DUMBO or NOHO and drink coffee (his drug of choice, he told me). Abigail, achy but mobile, will grab a cab. She’ll taxi home and begin to make plans using the internet: craigslist San Francisco, Man with a Van.

And I will think only of the next fifteen minutes.

I will claw my way to my battery operated bike.

I will bike to the vitamin store on 24th and Seventh Avenue.

After I lock up my bike, I will flag down a random stanger to guide me across the sidewalk to a wall so that I can steer myself toward the store. Instead of planning for a future, I will buy any vitamin I can to prolong my life, any antioxidant recommended, so that I might live another fifteen minutes.

MERCURY

Sister-

I found the packing slip for hair testing thing.
Metamette is the name of the place.
I called them. They said the results were sent back December first?

-Charlie

_______________________

Charlie-

Garry just called me, your results had gotten lost in his office. He gave me a brief overview:
Very high in Mercury, high in barium, copper, calcium, and magnesium.
The major problem is mercury, important to have dental fillings removed which you have already done. Chelation is the next step, 10-15 sessions of IV chelation at $100-$150 a session, one every 1-2 weeks. You can also do oral chelation, but this requires years. Apparently mercury poisoning can mimic MS and ALS.

Garry is going to look into sources of increased barium. Copper does not cause neurological symptoms. The increased calcium and magnesium are not a problem.
Call him tomorrow morning at 10A Just wait for someone to pick up at the end of the voicemail options, and tell them that he is expecting your call.

xo &;-) Sister
__________________________________


John, thank you for your past help. I have another question.

Okay, I had my fillings removed. Whew!
Now, I got the test results back on my hair.

Turns out (according to this test) I have high levels of toxic mercury in my system. I have 2.36 per gram. I am in the fifth quintile...toxic!
(I'm also high in copper and nickel)
So... I guess chelation is next? I don't see Chelation down as procedure you've had.
Any thoughts about hair testing, mercury, and chelation?

Charlie

______________________________________________

Hi Charlie

Yes, I have had hair tests and chelation. Both DMPS and EDTA. I am on a program of natural oral chelation. Since your levels are so high, best go with IV chelation to quickly bring the toxins out. After your levels are reduced, you can then look at oral options to continue the cleansing.

John

____________________________________

Mike Hussey
September 18, 2007

Mercury is a very dangerous poison. Basically, there are three forms of mercury: metallic, inorganic and organic. Although there is considerable debate as to which form is the most harmful, there is abundant evidence that indicates the inorganic form (also called ionic mercury) is the most dangerous. Ionic mercury is also the most difficult to remove from the body and in particular from the brain. Fortunately, few people are exposed to ionic mercury directly - most exposure is indirect. Unfortunately, a number of studies have shown that the other two forms are converted into ionic mercury within the tissues, especially in the brain. Therefore, any and all mercury exposure should be regarded as basically having the same potential.

Many people have suffered and died from mercury poisoning. The following are two incidents of mercury poisoning that gained the attention of the media:

* Mercury was dumped into Minamata bay in Japan from 1932-1968. Over 5,000 people suffered from mercury poisoning and 456 died. Children were born severely deformed and mentally retarded.

* In 1971 50,000 people in Iraq were poisoned and 5,000 died after they ate bread contaminated with mercury.

Although these were dramatic and tragic events the largest sources of mercury poisoning are:

* Dental fillings

* Contaminated fish

* Vaccines

* House paint

Almost 50% of dental fillings are the metallic form of mercury. The American Dental Society, until just recently, covered up the evidence that the mercury was released in vapor form and that 80% of that mercury vapor was absorbed into the body. Several studies have shown that blood levels of mercury rise several times when people with amalgam fillings chew or drink hot liquids. This is significant. Consider that in 1990, the EPA outlawed the use of mercury-filled interior latex paint because studies found that people living in houses covered in this paint had dangerously high mercury levels in their bodies. The Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) set the safety limit of mercury in the air at 50 ug per cubic meter (50 ug/m3). Measurements of the air in the mouths of people with numerous amalgam fillings have exceeded this level (reaching as high as150 ug/m3). This has particular implications for pregnant and breast feeding women.

Fish and other seafood are contaminated by waste from coal burning furnaces and pesticides and herbicides containing mercury. The sea floor also produces natural sources of mercury. As a result, a large number of previously safe seafood are contaminated with mercury. The mercury enters all sea creatures, but some are more toxic than others. Fish that eat other fish have the highest levels and in general the larger the fish, the higher the concentration. Certain fish should never be eaten, because of their extremely high methylmercury levels. These include:

* shark,

* swordfish,

* king mackerel and

* tilefish.


Select fish and other seafood that are low in mercury, such as salmon (from the Pacific) or pollock, or shrimp. However, Gulf shrimp is contaminated with a number of industrial chemicals as well as mercury, especially since Hurricane Katrina. Although most vaccines had their mercury removed as of 2001, the flu vaccines and the Rho immune globulin vaccine still contain mercury. Vaccines contain a special form of mercury called ethylmercury, which is found within the preservative and antiseptic thimerosal. Recent studies have examined ethylmercury and found that in fact it is much more toxic than methylmercury (the form found in fish). In the brain it is readily converted to the more toxic mercury ion. Vaccines containing mercury are strongly link to autism.

Toxic Effects of Mercury

Mercury is fat soluble and it accumulates in fat containing tissues such as the brain, heart, kidneys and liver. It reacts with a number of important structures and chemicals in the organs. Mercury concentrates in cell nucleus, and in even low doses it can cause damage to DNA. Damaged DNA can lead to cancer and degenerative brain disease. Changes, or damage, to DNA can be passed on to subsequent generations, so any children you have after the damage can inherit the problem or risk it produces.

The heart is especially sensitive to mercury toxicity. One study of people with an often fatal disorder called idiopathic cardiomyopathy found that their heart muscle contained a level of mercury that was 22,000 times higher than that seen in hearts of other people the same age. This disorder causes heart failure and people with the problem can require a heart transplant. The elderly with pre-existing heart disease, who receive yearly flu vaccines, are particularly at risk as the flu vaccines still contain mercury.

The brain is another organ that is particularly sensitive to the accumulation of mercury. Most of us have heard the old saying mad as a hatter. This saying originated from the felt hat industry during the 17th through the 19th centuries. It was commonly observed that people who worked in the industry walked as if they were drunk. They were also quite irritable and exhibited bizarre behavior. It was discovered that a form of mercury used in the manufacture of felt hats was to blame.

Mercury can alter how the brain functions, particularly the memory, concentration, motor control and behavior. Depression, memory loss, moodiness, irritability, a lack of interest in events, a desire to be alone, shyness and outbursts of anger are all signs of mercury poisoning. Low doses of mercury, even for short periods, can cause changes to brainwaves observed on an electrocortigram.

High mercury levels in the brain, blood or spinal fluid has been found in people with neurodegenerative diseases such as Alzheimer s and Parkinson s disease and Lou Gehrig s disease. Studies have found that people with Alzheimer s disease have blood mercury levels twice as high as those who were free of the disease. This would also explain the 10-times increase in Alzheimer s disease observed in elderly people who get annual flu vaccines for five years. Several studies have shown improvement in MS patients who had their amalgam fillings removed and subsequently went through chelation to purge them of mercury.

What You Can Do

* Try to avoid mercury as much as you are able, including in atmospheric pollution, dental fillings, contaminated seafood and avoid vaccines that contain mercury.

* If you have concerns you can have your urine, hair and stool checked for mercury levels. If the levels are high (above 10 ug/g of creatine) you can use a chelation agent to remove the mercury.

* Perspiration removes mercury. Exercising will increase the perspiration, but a new study found that exercise redistributes the mercury and this concentrates the mercury in the brain and heart muscle.

* Garlic extract neutralizes much of the toxicity and removes a great deal of the mercury from the brain over time. The advantage of this natural substance over drugs is that it can be taken all the time.

* A purified extract of the Chlorella plant have been shown to chelate mercury, and they can be taken daily.

* Vitamin and mineral supplements are useful. In particular, vitamin E protects DNA against mercury damage. Also alpha-lipoic acid, zinc and selenium have proven roles. Zinc and selenium play a major role in protecting the brain against mercury toxicity. It is thought that selenium protects fish from the damage caused by mercury.

* You need cleanse your body of toxic material, including mercury, so that everything is able to work effectively.

Conclusion Mercury is a dangerous toxin that should be avoided as much as possible. Avoidance is not impossible but does require attention to the sources of mercury discussed above. If you believe you may be suffering from mercury toxicity, possibly because you realize that you have had significant exposure and recognize that you have several relevant symptoms, I recommend you consult a naturopathic doctor who will be able to assess your condition and if necessary, order some tests and recommend appropriate treatment.

DISPARATE FUNNY ARCHETYPES

I haven't been to the Cup Cake in months.
It glitters with post holiday lights and gold garland strung lazily from the tin ceiling.

I like the Cup Cake and the block of stores that surround it. It is old timey America. There is community here.

It reminds me of Preston Sturges' "Miracle at Morgan's Creek". I just rented it. When I watched it, I luxuriated in the assortment of the American archetypes. I love films (and plays) that embrace the cultural mix in the United States, films and plays like "It's a Wonderful Life", (or recently) "Superior Doughnuts", (Judd Apatow's) "Forty Year Old Virgin" and even "I love You Man". They celebrate disparate, funny, archetypes, united by a chance (at having a go) in this country. It is heartwarming twee (to me).

So I'm in old timey New York. The cafe is often filled with writers, funny looking actors, and languid tourists.

I hobble through the entrance using two canes and greet Oliva who is already here.
We quickly get tea and coffee and sit on a wooden bench facing the large marble table.

Olivia looks lean and fashionable. Look at her graceful motor neurons as she attends to my tea.
(Maybe) she's nervous to see me. It's been six months. I have remained scary and anonymous, me and my fickle blog.
I'm not nervous. My system rarely experiences adrenaline, unless I'm about to fall.

We talk.

I'm having speech problems.
I wonder if this is disconcerting to Olivia but I don't let it stop me from blabbing away.
My thick articulation is kind of intriguing. (Look what happened to me!)

Olivia is busy in her life, full of projects and ideas. A food co-op, some writing, her house and family.

We talk about NYU. (We both worked with the playwriting department) Olivia as a director, me as an actor.
The department seems to be going through a down time, teachers not talking to each other, boring students.

I feel completely removed from the headiness of the striving theatre world.

Theatre is collaborative - cooperative - but it's also a power thing - who's got the ball?
I've tried to pay attention to that - but now - from where I'm sitting - I think - process wins over acclaim. I'd rather "do" than attend to who's got the ball. I've always felt I was a gifted performer. I did try to make my own work but mostly felt like I needed approval to move forward. I should have created my own work. My own writing. I wanted to be part of a collaborative group of artists. This can be joyful but ultimately disappointing. I worked toward that. I waited for that. I have regrets (now).

I tell Olivia that if I could do my life over, if I could get a "do over", I would do MORE, I would never wait for permission and I would steer clear of obstacles.

Olivia is surprised by my regrets.

"I've never know you to be like that. That's not how I've known you to be. "

(It's what I advised ... but not what I've done) I think.

We sip our tea and latte.

Olivia asks me questions about this blog.

"Why didn't you just lock up your bike and get a cab home (referring to a recent entry) instead of walking all that way?"

I try to remember that that entry but instead of thinking of myself, I think of Charlie, of poor Charlie Roberts.
I realize putting it in in a more fictional context makes it easier to elucidate.

"You mean why didn't CHARLIE just lock up his bike and get a cab home? Charlie couldn't lock up the bike and leave it there. The bike meant too much to Charlie. It was cold and he was tired. And he wasn't thinking clearly (maybe)."

We talk for nearly two hours. The cupcake is ideal for losing track of time. It's time to go.

We agree not to let another six months go by and then Olivia disappears out the front door onto the stagey street, the painterly backdrop off Port Authority behind her, her exit down ninth avenue, clearly visible from where I remain on the wooden bench.

I stare into space. The person sitting nearby notices my frozen gaze and offers her newspaper.

"I'm good. I've got a book... somewhere."

I dig out my brand new Kindle and read Middlemarch.

When I walk to the bathroom, Mike (the Cup Cake owner) watches me hobble past his expresso station.

"Whadja do? Break both your feet?"

"I would be thrilled If I had broken both my feet."

Mike laughs, "There's a guy who came in here every day for six months on crutches. Sat in the back with his laptop. Wrote a play. They produced it around the corner and he's in DC right now with a production of that same play."

"Cool".

This is what I will do (I think). I will cab to the Ninth Avenue, hobble my way into the Cup Cake and write... (a play? some story? this blog?) and luxuriate in the the cast of disparate, funny, archetypes.

INSOUCIANT

I am weary to bathe, to dress, to find my hat and gloves. I am reluctant to leave the safety of my apartment.
I'm off to the Cupcake.

I know the outside world can reshape my dismal outlook.
I have learned it's good to get out. My troubled thoughts, my cranky body, my withering energy ... are not me.
(The busy city can be medicinal). I order myself to leave. I'm going to meet Olivia at three at the Cupcake.

Jackie is over from down the hall playing Thelma Ritter to my Jimmy Stewart. She gathers my coat, my keys, my messenger bag.

"I feel terrible."

"You'll feel better once you get out."

"How's my hair, Jackie?"

"It's good. It looks nice in the back. Did you wash it?"

I rake my hands through it like it's a full and thick.

"How's that?"

"Good!" says Jackie.

I haven't any vanity (or not much). I don't look in the mirror. I shave in the tub, (once in a while).
I use organic "Dr. Bronner's for everything. I wear what's easiest ... the clothes on the floor. (I wore a bathing suit for two days straight). I can't suck in my stomach, or stand up straight. I can't pull off confidence or cockiness. (I've always liked the word "insouciant"). Insouciance is not possible for me.

But I am determined. So I'm out the door, on the elevator, in the lobby. I'm outside flagging a cab with my cane.
(I can't ride my bike. It's too cold).

Spiro (my doorman) tucks me in a cab. He lifts my legs into into the cab (without asking) and shuts the door.

"You're welcome sir, have a good day, sir" he sings in his (Irish sounding) Albanian accent.

We drive three long blocks and take a right on ninth.

The driver feels sorry for me. (I can tell). The implicit hostility between driver and passenger quickly becomes undoable with my Tiny Tim posturing. The rude cabbie is undone by my dear convalescent. When we pull up to the Cupcake (at 39th and ninth) the driver gets out of the car to help me out of the cab.

As I swing my legs out of the cab, my pant leg gets hiked up above the leg brace I wear on my lower right leg exposing the black carbon splint that holds me up. I ask (with improbable immodesty - I am getting insouciant with my disability - there! I CAN be insouciant! - I ask the cabdriver to roll down my pant leg before I land on Ninth Avenue. There is some small embarrassment for the driver, but I am too insouciant to care.

CUPCAKE CAFE

WORK IN PROGRESS - Taliah Lempert

NEW YEAR'S EVE BIKE RIDE

BIG TOP

Jackie comes over to help change Aroo's litter box.
I sit on the couch with a ballot, a ball point pen, and a list of the Screen Actors Guild award nominees.

My voice is garbled (tonight). Sometimes, in mid sentence, I sound like a phantom is strangling me.

"Jackie, okay listen, I'll read the nominees and you then say which one you think should win."

"Charlie, I haven't seen any movies this year. You pick."

"Jackie, I haven't seen any of the movies either. We'll just have to guess."

Jackie sits in a blue toile chair with Aroo. I'm on the couch.

I read...

"Outstanding Performance by a Male Actor in a Leading Role,

"JEFF BRIDGES in CRAZY HEART" - but through my troubled larynx it sounds like I'm saying... "Jeff Bwidis in Cwazee Harr".

"GEORGE CLOONEY in UP IN THE AIR" becomes "Jor Klune-nee in Op in the Air"

"COLIN FIRTH in A SINGLE MAN" is "Colin Firtha in a Single Man"

"MORGAN FREEMAN in INVICTUS" is "Morgan Freeman in En-vih-tis".

and "JEREMY RENNER in "THE HURT LOCKER" sounds like "Jear-a-meee Renna in The Urt Lochh-er".

I plough through the names like a determined drunk. I'm not frightened of my degeneration. I'm curious.
It's like I'm saddled with a difficult accent for a cool new role.

(Listen to my weakening articulation! Isn't it heart-rending? Isn't my vocal disintegration compelling?)

Vocal articulation, speech, the melody of the voice, is marvelous entertainment.
It deserves the Big Top of physical attractions not the side show.

"Which one Jackie? Wadda ya think?"

Jackie suggests Beau Bridges.

"He's not on the list Jackie, it's Jeff Bridges!"

"Well then Jeff Bridges, I choose him, he's a very good actor. Very serious."

"Well, I'm going to pick Collin Firth (which I pronounce Collin Foouth). "It's his time and I read the book and this movie needs attention."

After we're done with the ballot, Jackie helps me change the sheets on my bed. (I haven't changed them in weeks).

I say to Jackie (as I order her around my bedroom "Get the blue bedspread from the top shelf, flip the feather mattress and then lets put the mattress pad OVER the feather bed, otherwise the feathers poke through the sheets... whoever thought I'd need help making my own bed. Who could have ever predicted that?"

The "F" Word

The morning before New Year’s Eve Jackie walks into my apartment.

“Hi Jackie.”

“Good morning Charlie! It’s a beautiful day out there. You gonna get on your bike? Look at the flags out there? The flags in front of the building? They’re not waving. No wind. That's good! Where’s Aroo? How’s Aroo?”

“He’s bored Jackie. He’s been waiting for you. All he thinks about is himself. It’s all about Aroo, Jackie."

“What?! Where’s his brush. He needs a brush. Aroo?”

Jackie finds Aroo’s brush and I stay fixed on the end of my couch, my feet inserted in my new $250 foot massager. The massager (made in China) both vibrates and grips! I surrender (bare chested in boxers-an immodest invalid)- staring at nothing, as the machine clutches, buzzes, and makes its preprogrammed "ka-chunk, ka-chunk" noises.

“Oye” I say to the void.

“Jackie... there really is no other word that can compete with "oye'. I mean what do non-jews have?
Geese?”

"There's the "F" word. People use the "F" word."

"Yeah, but everyone uses that. It's not confined to a specific culture. What Yiddish words do you know?"

Jackie brushes Aroo. "Well... there're shlemiel and shiksa?”

I try to come up with the word Mensch but I can't think of it. A guy at work used to tell me I was a real mensch. It sounded (to me) like he didn’t respect me and when he explained that it meant I was a really nice guy, I couldn’t help but think he was actutally saying... I was a pushover.

"How bout agida?" I offer.

"No, agida is Italian. It means that you've got really bad heartburn, indigestion."

(Ka-chunk, ka-chunk goes the foot massager. Purr goes the cat).

“Jackie, I’m reading a book by someone you know and love.”

“Is it Oprah?”

“No”

“Barbara Walters?”

“No. He’s very handsome and his initials are T.C.”

“John Garfield?”

“No Jackie! T.C. T.C. The initials are T.C!

"What I can't guess. I'm no good at games. What Charlie?"

Alright I'll tell you. Tony Curtis. I’m reading about the making of “Some Like it Hot.”

Oye.

Tony Curtis. I don’t know... he’s so full of himself. They slept together, he and Marilyn Monroe, during the shoot. He'd just had a baby. I don’t know. Oye. I think he was pretty full of himself.”

“A free spirit Charlie. Tony Curtis is a free spirit. You can’t fault him. He just likes to live free.”
Jackie defends Tony Curtis like we're talking about a first cousin or beloved ex-husband.

"And Marilyn? Jackie, Marilyn Monroe was a mess, the drinking, the pills...”

“Well, booze and pills will do that to you Charlie." Jackie makes a comically tragic face like we were talking about her instead of Marilyn Monroe. "She was hooked on booze and pills and ... MEN. All those men... Charlie, men can really mess with you.
Let me do some dishes. I want to do some dishes.”

Jackie moves to the sink.

“What are you doing for New Year’s Jackie? Do you have any New Year resolutions?”

“Well, I’m going to really try to live in the moment Charlie. Like that Ekhart Tollel says. I’m going to live in the now and I’m not going to do anthing that I don’t want to. There! That’s my New Year's resolution. You? What about you? Wadda you got planned?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m capable of doing. This week I'm wiped. I feel like I have the flu."

(I've felt so lethargic (this week) that my fatigue trumps any guilt of laziness).

“Well" Jackie suggests "You said you wanted to swim every day. You can put THAT on your resolution list!”

I nod sullenly, "that's true".

“And you’ll write a book. Charlie, I wish you’d write a book. You were born to write.”

“Jackie, no I wasn’t. That's not true. You got that wrong. I just started writing this year. I’ve never written anything. I’m just writing a little blog. That’s it. I’m an actor.”

“Then Charlie, you should ACT! Do a voice over if that’s what you want to do. You know all about show business. I don’t. I never got anywhere but you did. Call them up and tell them you want to do a voice over!”

“I have to focus on this illness.”

“You know what Charlie? You want my opinion?

F*ck ALS.

I think you should do what you want, and eat what you want, and drink what you want, and stop taking all of those vitamins! I don’t know anything Charlie I’m just telling you what I would do. I say F*ck ALS!"

The drama of Jackie's proclamation has induced an uninvited grin across my face. And then Jackie’s cell phone rings (or plays some fifties rock song).

“It’s Bruce my son-in-law. I gotta take this."

The foot massager "ka-chunks". The cat purrs. Jackie takes her call.

"Charlie, I gotta go. They’re going to pick me up. "NOW!" Bruce says. I really hate that. No warning. It's just "be ready". Don’t I have a life? Aren't I somebody I’m just supposed to jump like some I'm some trained animal or something!! I’ll see you later Charlie or tomorrow. Good bye Aroo- roo- roo.”

Christmas Day 2009

Christmas Day 2009
Originally uploaded by Charlie Roberts