STICKY BUNS AND SHAKESPEARE

I haven't hit the witching hour yet and I am sleepy. I am also at loose ends. And it is damned hot in this apartment. Very little respite. I like this place, but this heat is crazy.

I spent a fair amount of the day in good spirits. The downturn came gradually. I really have to get more organized about eating. When I am distracted and under-shopped, I don't eat, then I get depressed. And then I eat things I shouldn't, and get more depressed. Today it was a phenomenally good sticky bun from the Ladybird Bakery across the street.

I can commend myself for not having gone through the bakery door in probably two months. And the temptation is there all the time. And I decided I needed a special treat, although once I had consumed it, in a leisurely fashion, I didn't feel particularly great. I should post a photo of what great stuff they have.

Here. You can look at Ladybird's cakes and pies and tarts. On weekends they make outrageous pastries. Besides sticky buns, croissants, real cheese danish, croissants, almond croissants, chocolate croissants, etc., etc...

Then a friend called from California. Not only did we discuss aspects of the world political scene, but we find ourselves at similar professional impasses. Regretting our decisions. Rueing our choices. And maybe kicking ourselves some. Add that to having just gotten up from a nap and not eating and you have one cranky, not entirely stable female on your hands.

But but but ... there were some great things today. A beautiful sunny day for most of it. A day that is softly crisp as only late Winter/early Spring days can be. These kind of days are light and fresh. No other time of year has that breath of hope tempered with a dash of bracing chill. A patient calm emanates from the trees and people rushing on the streets, still bundled, but easier now.

I was on the F train when I noticed a tall young man, dressed in a very hipster style, rush onto the train and prowl for the right seat. He sat and I went back to reading. When the doors closed, another young man, gruffly scruffly handsome began speaking in a loud voice.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my
cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me
for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that
you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and
awake your senses, that you may the better judge.
If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of
Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar
was no less than his. If then that friend demand
why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer:
--Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I lovedAt 
Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and
die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live
all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him;
as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was
valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I
slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his
fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his
ambition. Who is here so base that would be a
bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended.
Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If
any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so
vile that will not love his country? If any, speak;
for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.


By now, the hipster boy had risen and approached, listening intently. He responded

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest--
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men--
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.


They were fine fine actors. Everyone on the train was riveted. They passed the hat and I think they must have pulled in around $10, which is more than I ever make going under the East River.

One of those glad-I-live-in-New-York moments.