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My Super Power — janetzinn
Jun 05, 2019 by Janet Zinn
When I was in the fifth grade I had a recurrent dream that I could fly. I was elated that I could soar past the bullies and the teasers. I loved that they had to look up to me in my dream. I soared in the air down Haral Place past the mailbox on […]
via My Super Power — janetzinn
My Super Power
Jun 03, 2019 by Janet Zinn
When I was in the fifth grade I had a recurrent dream that I could fly. I was elated that I could soar past the bullies and the teasers. I loved that they had to look up to me in my dream. I soared in the air down Haral Place past the mailbox on my way to Stafford School. I held onto that dream. It gave me a sense of being special when I felt anything but special.
But the teasing got worse in junior high. Patty Craven howled at me as if I were a dog. She bribed a classmate to ask me out so they could laugh at me. She was cruel, but I took it. I found small...
Love Affair
Feb 04, 2019 by Janet Zinn
Love Affair
I have courted a lover from an early age. The depth of this love only grows with time. There is so much to love. And, daily opportunities abound to enjoy all my lover has to offer. New York City is my first and true love. When I return from a trip, I gasp internally each and every time I see the city skyline, affirming my devotion. (Image from online stock)
I have given up a lot, though it feels like a fair trade-off. I live in a small apartment, one in which our family of three regularly negotiates for space. But our rent is reasonable, for the city, due in large part to rent stabilization laws. This detail allows me to see...
I have courted a lover from an early age. The depth of this love only grows with time. There is so much to love. And, daily opportunities abound to enjoy all my lover has to offer. New York City is my first and true love. When I return from a trip, I gasp internally each and every time I see the city skyline, affirming my devotion. (Image from online stock)
I have given up a lot, though it feels like a fair trade-off. I live in a small apartment, one in which our family of three regularly negotiates for space. But our rent is reasonable, for the city, due in large part to rent stabilization laws. This detail allows me to see...
No, Thank You
Jan 01, 2019 by Janet Zinn
The New Year’s Eve race in Central Park is an iconic run given by New York Roadrunners. It features fireworks at midnight, just as the run begins. I had great plans to participate in the Midnight Run tonight. It started in 1978, but I didn’t hear about until the mid-80’s, when my roommate, Astrid ran it. I thought it was amazing. I wasn’t a runner, so it never occurred to me that I would ever spend my New Year’s eve in the park running. And, yet, a few years ago I did my first run. I ran two more times, starting with my cousin Zena, and then with a friend the next year. Two years ago I was on my own.
It’s...
It’s...
A Show Under the Stars
Sep 04, 2018 by Janet Zinn
It was around 1974. It had to be since it took about four years for my mom to perfect her tennis game. She played every day at the Cherry Hill Tennis Courts. She started out at the free outdoor courts in Kressen Woods, but it didn’t take long for my mom to realize that indoor courts were her best bet. It was winter so playing indoor tennis made sense. On that chilly Wednesday I answered the phone, hopeful that a friend was calling. But it was for my Mom. The rich, low voice on the other end said he was Gladys Knight’s manager and wanted to see if Arlene, my mom, would play mixed doubles with them. I could not believe...
A Trip to Africa
Jul 05, 2018 by Janet Zinn
What can I say about a dream come true? Shall I say that I spent most of my life believing my dreams wouldn’t be fulfilled? I lived much of my early years longing for the things that others had. The thing about my longings is that it kept me out of the loop. There’s an unspoken presumption that it was beyond my reach. Growing up I heard about the trips to Florida my classmates took. I longed to audition for a traveling high school production of Godspell, but had to work, and couldn’t afford to take time off, let alone pay for a ticket to California. I felt left out. Moving to New York in the early 80’s, there were apartments...
Running Again
Apr 23, 2018 by Janet Zinn
I ran my first race in over a year. It was slow process, both recovering from benign injuries, as well as running 15-minute miles this morning. In the past months I went through acupuncture, medical massage and physical therapy putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. So, tentatively, step by step I took on Central Park’s Drive.
What I noticed right away was the throngs who passed me as I inched my way forward. I am no stranger to being left behind. In elementary school I often was picked last in kickball, more for my lack of popularity than for any inability to kick and catch the ball. In junior high school I was not asked to parties. I awkwardly went to school...
I Fell Well
Jan 29, 2018 by Janet Zinn
I missed running, though I never thought I could be a runner. I was a girl who always got a cramp in my side when I tried to run anything more than a 50-yard-dash. In phys. ed. I ran the requisite laps around the gym, but my lungs burned and my midriff always hurt. I was among the last. Not THE last person, but close. And, in my twisted child’s mind, I took solace in that fact. That fact still gives me solace in my twisted adult mind when I slowly run races.
Friday I returned to running. Sometime last winter I got injured running and found myself walking the city for months. Any time I tried to run, much to...
What I lost
Jan 17, 2018 by Janet Zinn
No one tells you how grief feels in the body. The aches and pains and fatigue knead on stressed parts of our anatomy. The lethargy the body takes on is formidable. Clothes must be loose, sounds soft.
My mother died. She was ill, so there were no surprises. She became weaker and weaker until she ceased to be. Death made sense in her case. And, yet, following her death, nothing seems to make sense. I’m losing things: earrings, gloves, documents. I forget. I forget to return emails, phone calls, texts. I forget to look at the lists I write so I won’t forget. I want to watch movies or TV, but it has to be soothing. Nothing aggressive please.
I spent a...
I Was a Suburban Dropout
Oct 02, 2017 by Janet Zinn
As soon as I could I moved to a city filled with misfits. I needed a sense of belonging, and New York provided me with friends and neighbors misunderstood in their former lives. Growing up in Cherry Hill, New Jersey attending a large high school and an affluent Hebrew School felt wrong to me. I yearned to fit in, but felt so different. I imbued my classmates with confidences and affluences they probably didn’t possess at such a young age. I had learned to harbor secrets, while watching acquaintances seemingly share their lives openly. I had to get out.
Yet, returning to attend my 40th High School reunion, it came to my attention that I had missed so much. I saw...
Yet, returning to attend my 40th High School reunion, it came to my attention that I had missed so much. I saw...
One Step in Front of the Other
Sep 05, 2017 by Janet Zinn
When I was 10 years old I was allowed to walk on Haddonfield-Berlin Road, crossing highways entrances and exits to go to The Woodcrest Shopping Center. For a short time they had The Jerry Lewis Movie Theater, and I could get in for 50 cents, the amount of my allowances after chores. Or, I would go to W.T. Grant’s, deemed a twenty-five cent department store, but more of a five and dime. that sold colorful birds, toys, clothes, plastic jewelry, and featured a lunch counter. I was much too shy to go to the counter alone. But I loved getting lost in the aisles ending up with some sort of sweet. There was also Crest Lanes where I could bowl....
Free Shakespeare in the Park
Jul 31, 2017 by Janet Zinn
On a sweltering Tuesday in August, in my first full summer as a New York City resident, I was nervous and excited about the prospect of obtaining free tickets to A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park. The day in 1982 was hazy, and the great lawn was full of picnickers all with numbers for a place in line. I was number 26. I had gotten there so early, maybe 7 AM to ensure my audience participation. And, I was far from the first one in line. But with a coffee and an H&H bagel for breakfast, I felt well-prepared. Hour after hour of baking in the sun, I was a lucky recipient of two tickets...
The Fluctuating Value of Sleep
Jul 15, 2017 by Janet Zinn
When I was ten-years-old I was going to sleep-away camp for the first time. I was leaving for 2 weeks at a bare-bones Y camp in Medford, New Jersey. The night before I left I was atwitter with anticipation. What should I wear? I want a low key, yet cool look. In 1970 that meant hot pants and a tight colorful tee. I’d save my red hot pants for a dressy camp night. And, while awake, going over my list of flashlights and swimwear, I decided I’d arrive wearing denim shorts with my tie-dye t-shirt. It wasn’t snug, but it was cool enough to appear nonchalant.
That decided, I stayed up all night nervous about the friends I’d make, and wanting...
What to Choose
Mar 21, 2017 by Janet Zinn
I need a new pair of sneakers. Does anyone even use the word sneakers anymore? I mean, I’m looking for a pair of shoes that will serve for walking and running, something sporty. I tend to like bright colors, perhaps turquoise or purple. But I’m not able to find a pair in my size, with a proper arch, that’s good for city streets. They usually don’t have enough support, or they’re too cushy or too heavy. Or the hue or color combination is wrong. It’s easy to eliminate the choices. I don’t like the style. I don’t support the manufacturer. Today it’s running shoes, but on any given day I can easily find something I don’t want.
Running shoes are particularly...
Running shoes are particularly...
What I'm Not
Feb 06, 2017 by Janet Zinn
We just took a trip to a resort in Punta Cana, in the Dominican Republic. It was beautiful. The weather was warm and clear, and everyone was friendly. I wanted to enjoy this vacation. Last year was hard and I was looking forward to some R&R. But the food, though plentiful, went from bland to awful. The amenities promised were elusive or not as advertised. The other travelers seemed to be content, but I couldn’t help notice the missing details, the absence of my desired holiday away. I would go for a run on the beach, grateful for the easy breeze, and the laps of the ocean. Yet, I kept thinking of all the things I didn’t like about being...
I am Cautious
Sep 09, 2016 by Janet Zinn
I am cautious. I ride a low bike so that when I stop my feet reach the ground. This is reminiscent of my old banana seat bicycle in the 70’s with the purple handle bar streamers. It was comfortable because of its lack of height and its smooth, plastic seat. I was a proud rider on the streets of Haddontown, Kresson Heights, Brookfield and Woodcrest, riding my modern bike in my bright red keds.
This past week I braved the New York Streets to take my bike out for the third time this summer. I was halfway to my destination, Central Park, when I realized the traffic was too thick. Cars and trucks were double parked. I am not that adventurous....
This past week I braved the New York Streets to take my bike out for the third time this summer. I was halfway to my destination, Central Park, when I realized the traffic was too thick. Cars and trucks were double parked. I am not that adventurous....
The Voice
Aug 15, 2016 by Janet Zinn
The movie Funny Girl opened in 1968. I was eight years old and in Third Grade, struggling with Mrs. Mishaw, the dower educator who wore Irish wool suits and had no patience for fools. I was a dreamy fool finding solace in movies. Barbra Streisand as Fanny Brice became my hero. Fanny Brice for celebrating her kooky self, and Barbra for singing so magnificently. She was the balm for an otherwise abrasive year.
This past week I got to revisit the magnificence of Ms. Streisand singing “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” She brought down the Brooklyn house with her clear, luminous voice. I was enthralled then, as I am now. And, if that weren’t enough, she sang at least three Sondheim...
Back to the Basics
Jul 04, 2016 by Janet Zinn
I learned to iron from my mom, but not before I scorched a shirt or two. Cotton and Polyester were the fabrics of my childhood. And, although I liked my Danskin striped shirts and ribbed pleated pants, cotton was the classier choice for anything other than playing in our Haddontown neighborhood. When inside I had chores, one of which was the ironing.
I would set up the creaky ironing board in the kitchen close to the counter with the electrical outlet. And then I’d carefully plug in the Sunbeam, aqua iron until it was hot enough to smooth away the folds. I would iron my father’s shirts for work, my sister’s and my blouses, leaving the trickier ironing of dresses to my...
Hidden in Plain Sight
Jun 18, 2016 by Janet Zinn
This week Larry and I went on a tour of Gracie Mansion, an activity over 15 years in the making. We live a half a block from New York City’s first family home. Yet, we’ve only seen the façade prior to today. I would usually walk into Carl Shurz park passing by the city-guarded mansion. We spoke of going on a tour during the Guiliani years, but we always found ourselves too busy. So, two weeks ago, I thought, screw that, we’ll always be busy, let’s just do it. And, we did.
The tour is free. We just went to the .gov site and got on a list. Tours take place Tuesdays. They start on the hour beginning at 10 AM....
Blog Break
May 23, 2016 by Janet Zinn
I wasn’t planning on taking a break from my blog, but that’s what happened. I’m glad I took this break. I’ve needed a breather in general for a while, and the blog was just a part of what I needed to put aside. I enjoy writing, but I noticed something as the weeks went by without penning a word. I noticed that I felt relieved at times, and frustrated at other times. Same circumstances, different responses.
As the weeks went by I started criticizing myself. I was hard on myself for not writing even as other obligations loomed large. I’d think, “If I don’t write on a regular basis it’s predictive of not publishing later.” I questioned myself. “Could my attention...
