The Move

So, the first phase of the move is complete. Are we crazy dividing our household so Jen can work as a full time college professor and I can stay here in New York City to continue my work with the DOB? In this economy, it seems prudent to do so. It has been said "a house divided cannot stand" but I believe it can endure. We have had our ups and downs so far setting up the condo in Florida. Mostly ups. The second half of the journey awaits.

Stay tuned.

Shock Load

Its more kinetic
than electric
the shock load
of your body
next to mine
palpifies time
my heart races
anticipating
slow dances
quick glances
the entire world
expands and
demands
a kiss

The Divinity of Mistakes –

The other night, before bed, I decided to check channel 26 to see something, I forget now why, but I hit too many numbers and wound up on a Showtime channel where the end credits to a movie were rolling, I don’t know which film, but the haunting, lilting sounds coming from my TV caused me to pause. I sat transfixed, my wife came out to see what the hell I was doing just sitting there watching the bland, black and white credits to a film neither of us had just seen. “I’ll be in…in a minute,” I said. I watched the credits to the end so I could see that the song “It Ain’t Easy” was preformed by Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet.

Now, I can’t stop listening to her. I read her story on Wikipedia. What an amazing journey she has been on and I realize most of you taking the time to read me already know her. Inspired, I actually picked up my banjo and realized I could now tune it with the new electronic tuner I had purchased for the guitar. So now, this morning, listening to her song “City of Refuge” I hear the line: “To run with the Gods, You gotta Run Harder” Abigail Washburn. This resonates with me in ways you all can relate to I am sure. I wallow in my mediocrity because I need to work harder. Harder to get my words heard, harder to get my novel out there, harder to keep the citizens of New York safe. I’m gonna run, run, run to the City of Refuge. Run, run, and run.

Father's Day 2012

Dear Dad, there is so much I need to tell you. How things are with work and with this great, big, ever growing, ever changing city we used to live, work and play in together once upon a time in America.The new buildings going up, the old ones coming down, the ravaged ones getting face-lifts using old and new ways.

I want to thank you, dad, for making me the man I am, for showing me that the only way to survive in this business, in this world, is by being careful. Full of care.

"Take care, I love ya, bud." Those were the last words you said to me, with a wave of your good hand and a smile. That's how I will always remember you. You gave me the tools of wisdom and success in a series of small phrases like: "Get it done." and "Be safe." You will always be my hero, my champion and I live every day to make you proud to be my father as I am to be your son. Your struggle, your pain, your sacrifices for me, your mistakes, your missed steps, are all ingrained in my heart. You are my history. I am your future. Because of you I have grown up to see our city transformed into a garden, an absolute miracle of urban living. A model, a beacon, an exemplar of peace and prosperity at which I marvel each day. There are problems, too, but I want to tell you dad, the good far out-weighs the bad.

Downtown has risen from the ashes and every neighborhood, rich or poor, large or small has struggled to reinvent itself in a better, more civil image. In faith, I know you know, dad, you feel these things as I feel them. On this day, this Father's Day, I think it is OK to get a little sentimental and give thanks to the founding fathers of our nation, of our way of life, of our way of solving problems and changing wrongs into rights. To the fathers of this city, the visionaries, the dreamers, the workers, the soldiers, fire fighters, police, teachers, the leaders and doers of things...and to the followers,folks who believe it is good and decent to be an American, a New Yorker, who live every day of their lives in this city, giving it their life's blood, thank you. Happy fathers day.

Thank You Tribute

The gates of the 9/11 Memorial were thrown open exclusively for rescue and recovery workers of the World Trade Center on May 30th 2012. Mayor Bloomberg, Mayor Giuliani, City Council Speaker Quinn and Governor Pataki were among the dignitaries greeting workers who spent months in toil between the fatal collapse of the twin towers and the beginning of the restoration downtown. As a member of a city agency I participated in many phases of the rescue and recovery from serving on a bucket brigade, to overnight shifts at the Pier 92 command center, I gave some in an effort to honor those who gave all and made the ultimate sacrifice.

We spent a solemn hour listening to choirs, and the sound of ever falling water, looking for friends and co-workers, and reading the names cut in steel around the perimeters of the pools.

The Sparkle

The sparkle darkle
Of your pithy seventh level
Apparent in deep
Onyx oracle hexes
Vexing early morning REM
Hastening my crawl from
Fetal mass to stiff corpse---




Those were black pearls
That were her eyes
Formed of volcanic
Sand from South Pacific
Atolls green and tropical
In the Shanghai of my vision

Exotic in perpetuity like
Wind blown glass captured
By rainbow rings of Saturn---

My rant rains cool
Potable star dust down
On the deaf and blind
Quenching a thirst as yet
Undefined

Quelling this outburst of my mind
for a time with rhyme
not mine
but belongs to the Universal
At large in charge of my anonymity---

I am no one.

I am everyone.

I have lived.

I will die.

I will not come again.

Mark D. Ransom

Christmas Letter 2002

We hope this post finds you all well and sincerely wish the best for you and yours. Here's to seeing you soon and raising a glass of cheer, no matter when, no matter where. Oh, so much has changed in 10 years. We are getting ready for life altering events...new jobs, new computers...so in cleaning out "Ole Bessie" as we have named the lap top, we came across the following and began to get present with where we have been, and where we are going:






December 2002




Hello Friends,

It’s hard to believe another year has passed. We hope this holiday missive finds you all in good health and good spirits. Things are OK here in Brooklyn, New York, U.S.A. Our only regret is that we don’t get to spend more time with friends and family due to the bustle of our “metropolitan lifestyles.”

In the spring of 2002, while Jen was pulling her hair out (or maybe it’s just falling out, we don’t know for sure) writing her Master’s thesis, Mark was diligently recording his spoken word poetry CD Wild Iron Freedom. Jen managed to graduate in June (on time) from Brooklyn College with an M.F.A. in Dramaturgy and Theatre Criticism. Mark’s CD was released this fall. You can find a link to it on Mark’s website: MDRansom.com. In May we appeared together in a small off-off Broadway show directed by Cyndy Marion just to keep our acting chops up.

Immediately upon Jen’s graduation, we were told that “the jig was up,” concerning our two-year illegal sublet. We did some hurried and harried apartment hunting and ended up with a much larger space in the same neighborhood—for only twice the rent! Although Jen did have a whirlwind trip to London this summer, (courtesy of our good friend Miss Babs,) the highlight was our vacation to New Mexico. We flew into Albuquerque and proceeded to spend fourteen memorable days camping (okay, okay, we also spent a couple’o six nights in a Bed and Breakfast) and exploring Santa Fe, Taos, paddling the Rio Grande, and even cruising up towards Cimmaron County.

This fall finds Mark working steadily with the New York City Department of Buildings. Happily, he hasn’t had the kind of emergencies we saw last fall, although the wake of 9/11 continues to be a strong presence for us all. For some strange reason Jen thought it would be a “good idea” to start her Ph.D. work at the CUNY Graduate Center. Suffice to say the challenging nature of these studies keeps her hopping, particularly coupled with adjunct teaching positions at John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Mark managed to find time to perform as narrator/musician in Like a Springsteen Song, which had a hearty run at the Blue Heron in October-November. The Village Voice actually referred to him as a “cover band!” (It’s good to be referred to in the Voice, however inaccurately.) For those who don’t know: we are engaged. Wedding next fall.

There you have it: the Reader’s Digest version of 2002. Please know that you are in our thoughts always, although we are not always in touch. All the best for 2003.

Love, Jen and Mark

P.S Please forgive us for not sending real cards. We know how hard form letters are to put on the mantle, but we were guided by economy—and we knew y’all would want to know what we had been up to this year!