From Cuba to Harlem in Five Days

First, a grammatical note:

I saw this and rejoiced. Apparently so did a bunch of literaries: Celebrating the Semicolon in a Most Unlikely Location


I’m happy I opted out of an outing.

I’ll get right into it: the Democratic Presidential Debate in Texas tonight was absolutely fantastic. And though I must admit that I’ve enjoyed each of the 19 debates—mostly through news reports—this one was different. Perhaps its because the Democrats have found a flow behind a candidate, muddying the already turbid waters. The long front-runner is now getting slowed from the current. And watching it unfold is amazing.

I love politics; it’s just that simple.

Tonight, two brilliant candidates sparred over the litany of political issues. And of course, there were great sidebars. Cuba took the trophy of topics for me. I have an odd fascination and love for Cuba. I have tremendous respect for its policies, be they discriminatory, intolerant, or harmful. I represented them in Model United Nations, which we ruled. In MUN, you become the State you’re representing; I became Cuba, though not necessarily “Cuban”. I defended a relentless leader’s policies, perhaps as prolixly as the leader himself, who defied American hegemony. It was one of the most rewarding and fulfilling experiences of my life, fueling my need to look outside our borders. And though abrupt change may not ensue immediately, a swell of confidence and enlightenment is raising on the 90-mile island.

I wish Cuba luck in its development, though truly fear for its “Americanization.” It is not just any Caribbean island: It’s Cuba.

I’m glad to see it at the local forefront of American Foreign Policy, and in such an encouraging light.


[Five-day delay]



Tonight, for the first time since moving to Harlem, I went to Minton’s Playhouse.

You might know it, you might not. Either way, it is across the street from where I dwell, and my is it swell!

Tonight, as with all Monday nights, a 16- piece orchestra jazzed away to the sounds of Duke Ellington, Miles Davis, and numerous other Harlem notaries. It was truly a taste of Harlem I’m so happy to have now enjoyed.

Granted, part of that taste was the vodka rocks I sipped, but that’s neither here nor there. I had my first GRE class this evening and it was horrifying; a blow to my intellect.

But here we are—well, just me really—still merely employed, cavorting about the City and CT whilst capriciously creating a path.

Any suggestions?

The End.