Sunday, March 30, 2014

In Which I Save the Deal

Dear Prospective Tenant,

Regarding my apartment in Miami, Florida:

In case you have 'disappeared' because of something you found online about me, I will state unequivocally that most of what you may have read, stemming from a business failure in 2010, is one-sided, emotionally driven, willfully malicious and/or false.

Anything from 2013 is 100%
"and Defamatory", ©Jeff Glovsky

That said:  my apartment is available to you for the dates we've discussed, and to which we contractually agreed.

If you don't want to pay 6 months in advance without seeing or receiving the key to the property, of course I understand.  But obviously, I cannot just hold my apartment for you and hope you'll arrive.  I'm sure you can understand this.

If you don't wish to move forward with our signed contract at all, it's okay.  But if this is the case, and it's due to something you have read online about me - to be honest, you are doing yourself a disservice.

I would appreciate the courtesy of a response please, one way or another.

Thank you,
Jeff Glovsky

* * *
Addendum:  Thank you, Dr. G., for 're-appearing' ... in fact, responding ... for listening rationally, understanding and deciding to move forward and rent my property (as many have done before you, satisfactorily and without drama or incident, before and since my business, name and reputation collapsed in 2010).

Enjoy your stay.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

(Audio-) VISUELL

You are being watched.

Your movements, actions are recorded .... Chased and captured, space and time ... Pasted, cut up, posted up on places,
Facebook!  Websites you don't know or use.

You move freely ... But you're seen.  You are collected, grouped and categorized, followed and recognized by eyes unseen ... Obscene!

But I like to keep things light between us ... When
I follow you with eyes unseen, I blur the lines.  I don't name names, or "tag" or claim to be your "friend" ... but I watch too.

You're being seen.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Cold, War and Otherwise

Though spring has sprung in Deutschland, in the States, the cold weather's unrelenting and winter storms -- for some reason, christened like hurricanes now! -- keep howling and blowing.

Also howling and blowing is western media, every time there's a new "global conflict".  Usually so ridiculously narrow and self-interested, reporting breathlessly the "breaking" news of Oscar night parties, celebrity deaths (all too often, self-inflicted) ... and/or imperious, like dolts in a small town, poking fun at perceived foibles: "Sochi problems", for example, or an "inept" investigation (or the opposite: escalating random acts of breathing -- those naturally occurring, every day things we all do because we're supposed to, and most of us are wired that way -- into newsworthy, larger than life acts of "heroism") ...

Where was I?

Oh, right.  So usually the media, particularly in the US and UK, is carrying on this way, perpetuating its curious combination of smug isolationism and Big Stick condescension, the whole time relying on unpaid contributors to file "i-reports", in order to fill all the 24/7 content platforms) ... but Vladimir Putin "takes" Crimea, and suddenly, gets forgotten; the meaningful Paralympics all but ignored, and CNN and the US start clucking, 'What to do about UKRAINE?'.

Geopolitically speaking, the US should have nothing to do with Ukraine.  The people of Crimea are speaking, and they seem to prefer not to be part of 'the west'.  This (so far) peaceful expression of self-determination should be recognized, in fact, allowed.

Beyond this simple statement of what seems, to me, obvious, I offer no public opinion.  My thoughts on politics, like religion and like my home address, telephone number, love and sexual doings that actually matter to me, are private, and will remain that way ... at least until they matter less, and/or I am ready to "share" them.

Does this mean, though, that I can't opine?  I don't have a politcal thought, or opinion?
"Gloaming Looming", ©Jeff Glovsky
Once I was sitting outside a jazz club where I used to mix sound.  It was a beautiful spring night, and I stepped out of what was, at that time, the stereotypical smoke-filled room to gulp in some fresh air.  It was during a bass solo ... These always tended to go on forever anyway, so I figured I had a few minutes, at least, before the singer would come in again and start gesticulating (wildly) toward her ear, suggesting (none too subtly) that she wasn't able to hear herself, or the piano.

As I was sitting there, pleasantly digging the gloaming, this homeless guy shuffles up to me and says, "Nice night, huh?"  He sits down on the brownstone stoop beside me, and offers up something about the second Gulf War ...

Well, I'd always been taught, and took pains to adhere to, the common sense adage about not talking to strangers.  I took this literally, and to this day -- fast-tracking to fifty (!) years old -- I struggle with its application.  Innately shy, to the point of awkwardness, if not coming across as 'differnt' (as in, 'that boy ain't right!') in most social settings, I was struck even dumber by my new companion's next and final communication.

After commenting about G. Dubya Bush, our troops in Iraq and September 11th -- all still very fresh wounds at the time -- and receiving zero response from me, this homeless guys says, "Man, I thought you were an asshole, but you might just be stupid."

Then sneeringly, he shuffles off.

I go back inside the jazz club, not offended or defensive, but really struck by what the homeless guy just told me: that I was an asshole, but I might also be stupid.  I'd never thought of myself as "stupid".  Throughout my academic career, with the exception of some shaky punctuation, Geometry in high school and five years of college, it was always the opposite!

But as I made my way back toward my sound booth that night, noticing that not only had the bass solo ended but the first set as well ... that the house lights were on, the stage was empty (though an amp was buzzing) and people were standing up to leave ... it occurred to me the homeless guy was probably right.