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What’s Up

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A flurry of purchases for holiday gifts is commencing and, although there may be one or two readers from the animal hospital who check in over here, I’m pretty sure I am safe posting this particular one in advance of giving it. My work gifts are largely of the canine kind – I must admit that my office is far heavier in pup than kit and therefore dogs are having their day once again here at Pictorama.

Those who have followed me in the years since I left Jazz for the animal hospital know that, especially for a devoted cat person, I now spend a lot of time with dogs. (In fact our annual Top Dog Gala where we celebrate a dog, class of dogs and/or supporter of the hospital’s non-profit mission, is Tuesday. A post about my first Top Dog can be found here. As these events go, dogs do make it a lot more fun!)

An early fall update was doggie indeed and I shared photos of our Paws & Pints event and perhaps our canine concert. (That can be found here.) Puppies and working Guide Dogs populated a Woof & Wine for the younger set interested in our work. So this cat woman is doing a lot of belly rubs and good boys with a whole new crowd. Seven cats means it is unlikely that there is a dog in our immediate future at Deitch Studio, but then again, you never know.

My first Top Dog back in December of ’23.

Meanwhile, as the holidays approach I have applied my same searching rules and know how to finding something to fit and personal to each of those recipients. (Last year I luckily stumbled on a number of small vintage prints of various kinds which made up about half the group.) In my shopping and searching I set a fairly low ceiling on the cost so it took a while for price and aesthetics to come together.

Really, I got lucky pretty fast and this card, mailed back in March of 1908, was one I could just purchase. (Another is on its way to me for a colleague who just got a puppy – his first pet in a number of years. He is a musician and almost got early canine related sheet music but the card I found for him looks like an early 20th century version of his pup!)

In this process I should admit that one photo has come to stay (an occupational hazard – more on that one in a future post) and I thought this one rated the Pictorama treatment. In this card a big footed fellow appears here in straw boater and spiffy collar better suited for a summer outing for the 4th of July than Christmas. A quick search tells me that this image was first distributed in 1906. The ultimate recipient of this card has smaller dogs but I think will like this early guy’s style.

Although it is postmarked March 5, 1906 I cannot read the location of the cancellation. It was sent to Miss Marion Deverance in Durant Okla Box 598 without a message; I guess they felt the card spoke for itself? It’s a simple image in black and white, really just depending on the props for the pup and also the sweet and somewhat urgent look in his eyes. This little fellow wants to please the person behind the camera – perhaps one holding a treat?

I amaze a bit at the difference between dogs and cats as I spend time with them these days. It’s pretty universal that cats hate going to the vet and the best you can hope for is one that doesn’t howl, or in the extreme, bite. Dogs are a mixed bag. Some seem (not all to be sure) to honestly be happy to enter our doors and see their doctor friends. Others are at least resigned as long as they are with mom or dad. There are some who, like the felines, just aren’t having it.

In general though, dogs are so much more social and enjoy participation in the world with their people in a way cats just cannot. I have had some success planning dog friendly events over these past two years. Finding establishments that can and will welcome dogs has been one of the interesting challenges. Our annual Living Legends luncheon typically honors a dog, cat and exotic animal setting the bar for that location even higher. (Bearded dragon welcome?) Meanwhile, we have a parrot joining its mom at our Gala next week, a moveable perch needed to be found for it so that it could join in some photo sessions. Again, this is a very different job! (For your information and in case you need one, Amazon had the perch.)

There are a smattering of dog friendly bars and restaurants uptown near me. Interesting to note that NYC parks are not especially friendly to dog gatherings, although the individual conservancies are willing the Parks Department gives us a thumbs down. I worked for Central Park for several years and am well aware of their leash laws but these have not been requests to have dogs off leash, just gatherings where people could bring them.

My hardbound copy of this book. I bought a bunch of paperbacks to give as thank you gifts this year at work.

Obviously fund raising for an animal hospital raises specific and different challenges from my years at Jazz and before that decades at the Metropolitan Museum. In some ways I am uniquely prepared with my deeply devoted pet past and present. And it’s not all about dogs – donors to a new cat fund for needed emergency surgeries has received May Sarton’s book, The Fur Person which I wrote about in a post that can be found here.

I hope my colleagues will like their canine cards and other holiday treats and that next year, my third, further indicates that I am getting the hang of this fundraising for animals thing right.

Doggone, It’s Fall!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It is a couple of weeks that were here in Manhattan and for this animal hospital fundraiser September has been a captivatingly canine month already. As luck would have it, three out of my four dog events this month (the final one is on September 30 – our Woof &Wine for our young friends) were over the last ten days and as I looked at the photo feed on my phone it has been a bonanza of doggy days.

My less alliterative and punny colleagues groan a bit over my event monikers – Paws & Pints, Woof & Wine, Purrs & Pearls for starters. Pictorama readers know I cannot resist either in my scribbling and writing for work these days gives me ample opportunity to employ and explore both. (And more to come below!)

Paws & Pints participants above. Human and dog treats were supplied.

Fall days really are doggy here this year as I try to learn about fundraising for the animal hospital (um, quite different than jazz) and the community that supports it. I have realized that people (New Yorkers at least) really like to go to places with their dogs – to socialize with other dogs and their folks. As a committed cat companion of seven this has been a learning curve for me. After all, the cats make a strong statement of staying solely in their environment to the extent they can, don’t especially like other cats and, not all but most, show a decided preference for home and hearth. They are generally (at first at least) a bit leery even of house guests.

Not pups! Bow wow! They can’t wait to meet you, get their ears scratched and tummy rubbed, tails set a wagging. They greet each other, sometimes careful, other times enthused, and occasionally resulting in a stand off. I’m told I have been lucky and the worst we’ve had has been some barking – not sure we’ve even escalated to growling.

Last week we celebrated our second Paws & Pints event at a dog friendly establishment on the Upper Eastside, not far from Deitch Studio over here on 86th Street and Kim attended too. Happily crammed into a backyard here, we had about 30 guests and about 16 dog guests of every size and type. Beloved rescue mutts were cheek to jowl with bure bred pups. Nary a bark out of the group which has been commended by the establishment for its excellent behavior.

Somehow this image of a litho Kim did years ago always comes to mind when contemplating these events. This is called “Chaos at the Black and White Cat Show”.

I suspect I am tempting fate by writing this and that my day will come when we have all out chaos. Nonetheless, I press on and continue to experiment. I am not sure but I think that it is the preponderance of dogs, and a lot of dog specific treats, that calms the group. I suspect one or two dogs mixed with a lot of humans leads to more barking and seeking of attention.

This week saw two more events, a shopping evening at a store on 72nd Street and our second annual Canine Concert for dogs and their companions. Whatever I had imagined from the store event did not in the least prepare me for the overwhelming response from the local shopping community. I feel confident in stating that if you want to fill up your store, invite your folks to bring their dogs but watch out for the response.

Shopping event evening above which grew and grew!

I myself managed to shop. That said I am a very intrepid shopper and considering the store was doing this for the benefit of our hospital (10% of sales that evening supported our work). I thought it behooved me to pitch in and purchased a dress as a result. However, frankly with dogs of every size and type and people virtually falling out the door, I cannot say how much shopping did get done. Of course there were dog pup cup treats and even portraits being done at the back of the store. (A jeweler on Madison Avenue is having a holiday shopping evening for us in November which is where Purrs and Pearls will take place. I can only hope we have half as many people for that.)

Meanwhile, the canine concert (turn up sound for the snippet above) is not my brain child and is the thoughtful product of our education area and one of our board members. A string quartet from Julliard played off a puppy friendly playlist and a gorgeous September evening meant a meltingly beautiful occupation of a public square of canine and human camaraderie. The soothing repertoire was compiled by an auditory expert on the subject and certainly seemed to turn the trick on an exhausted Friday evening. One of my colleagues said that if you want your faith in humanity restored, man a table at a dog concert.

Canine Concert participants above.

I don’t think it is my imagination when I say people are generally in a better mood when they are with their dogs – arguably at their nicest. And being with the the dogs makes me and my staffers happy as well.

All this said I woke exhausted but satisfied this morning. Woof & Wine is still on the horizon where we will supply the puppies – dogs in training for the Guiding Eyes for the Blind foundation – rather than a bring your own. Purrs & Pearls is still a ways off and I am already planning for a Paws & Pints park edition for spring so stay tuned.

Home again, home again

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: While New Jersey is also technically home, our many more months a year are spent in our tiny Manhattan apartment. Despite thinking, every time, that we are bringing less back than we brought there, we will spend today rather literally stuffing ourselves back into this space and place. Among other things (think books) we arrive laden with corn, tomatoes and herbs from the Garden State – the latter two from our garden.

Kim’s pile of pages, still covered in plastic against the possibility of ceiling leaks.

As far as I can tell, everyone who visits us here finds our ability to live in this one room (which I continue to stuff things into and Kim contributes artistic additions to daily, not to mention his book habit and mine) rather stunning. Mostly when you are doing it you forget about it. Having been away for five weeks I myself am marveling at how I produce meals in our miniscule kitchen – with cats and Kim in there with me! (We remodeled that kitchen back in the fall of ’19, just months before the pandemic. Find that post here.) Um, how have I prepared meals here?

Our kitchen post renovation – believe me, there’s lots more in it right now!

Kim is back at his beloved New York work table which is more generously proportioned than his one in NJ and has all his stuff – his full pile of lay outs and an always slowly growing pile of finished pages. Only a working kit of stuff goes to NJ in a box each time. Having said that I think he will miss the lovely open window he worked by. I have worked at that desk and on a good day you can see hummingbirds in the Rose of Sharon tree which they seem to adore.

Cookie (shown above) and Blackie are thrown back together and I report that they are finding the one room small as well. Blackie, on the defensive the whole time he’s in New Jersey, gets unfortunately aggressive with Cookie once we are back. The fighting has commenced and there is much hissing. Kim is mostly doing the mediating. Cookie has resumed a perch atop of the couch and, although Blackie slept on the bed, he is currently sleeping off the whole experience under it. (Do they think they have awoken from a long dream when they find themselves back here? Or have they assimilated that they now occasionally travel back and forth? I suspect they’d have a lot to say given the opportunity. Perhaps we are just as glad they cannot talk!)

Kim getting his NY desk set back up.

Several of the Rosa Mulholland books were left in Jersey after Kim read them, however two more arrived here in the meantime. (For my Rosa Mulholland posts and more about what I am reading you can go here and here.) Much of my reading is electronic these days but she has been hard to find and I keep purchasing the pretty volumes when I can. In addition, a few other volumes crept in via the antiques annex in Red Bank. (As for the comic book store I believe a couple of those volumes Kim purchased made it to New York as he had not read them yet.)

We are currently about half unpacked and I have a pile of clothes that need to either be cleaned or hung up. I wish I could move these summer dresses to our storage locker but the weather has turned hot again and I will regret it if I do I am afraid.

I only see one cat but our bivouac process in August.

For all of those things I do have my 25 minute walk to and from work coming up this week, rather than my long train ride from NJ. (Kim is going to try to do some of these mornings with me to keep up our walking together habit acquired on vacation. We’ll see if I can keep him away from his drawing table for a bit each morning for that.) The calendar is filling up with fall dates and New York is already in full fall swing, waiting for us to hop into the fray.

Pups from a prior Paws & Pints.

I have been back at the office since last week and again and again colleagues say that it is like a switch has been flipped and we are off to the races. We have a Paws & Pints gathering of owners and dogs this Wednesday at a dog friendly bar near home. It is followed by a new event for young supporters called Woof & Wine at the end of the month – that to support our fund which cares for seeing eye dogs for free. A supply of dogs and puppies from a seeing eye foundation will be the highlight, along with cocktails, food and a silent auction. And that is just September!

We are having one of our first truly rainy days in weeks so I have no excuse but to face the music and get the apartment in some sort of shape. Wish me luck and hopefully onto further acquisitions next week.

Long Island

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: In a better world I would be writing this from home on Saturday morning as usual. I do have some new acquisitions that I am looking forward to treating you to but it will have to wait until Sunday as I am on what is these days, a very rare business trip.

My days at Jazz and even the Met treated readers to a fair amount of travel. Some of it quite exotic and international. (Some of those posts can be found here and here.) However, my current gig fundraising for an animal hospital does not require must travel. However, today here I sit in the rain, in very slow moving midtown traffic, a passenger on a Jitney heading for East Hampton.

Book purchase.
Illustration

I frequently say that into every New York fundraiser some time in East Hampton must fall. In today’s case it is an event tomorrow night. I am going out early and staying with a friend until Saturday.

Other purchase and illustration.

Growing up at the Jersey shore my relationship with Long Island beaches is a bit skeptical. While “beach traffic” was a thing of my childhood (we could walk to the beach but you still had to negotiate traffic for any of life’s needs in a car) it could not prepare me for the gridlock of Long Island. Cars line up in long rows for blocks and blocks at intersections. You find that traffic is always a major topic of conversation here – what route did you take and how was it. This year’s event is in downtown Sag Harbor so some lucky folks who live in that historic district will be able to walk.

1937 view of Peninsula House (aka P House) Sea Bright in 1937. It burned to the ground in 1986.

The east end of Long Island has always seemed like the glitzy cousin to my beloved Jersey shore. The old houses here are older and many have more gravitas than our beachside mansions along the ocean. Houses here were built right on the ocean while most of those in Monmouth County are on the other side of a seawall and thoroughfare. Some of those few that were waterside perhaps washed away – or otherwise lost to time like the Peninsula Hotel which used to perch seaside in Sea Bright.

Luxury brands abound here – the streets dotted with the designer clothes of the moment, Starbucks (of course) and the likes of Tiffany. In Jersey the wealth moved more to the riverside and the mansions line those more interior shores.

View from the lovely house I stayed at.

Still, I have never entirely understood the appeal of this location, now with traffic a good more than three hours from Manhattan when I can hop on a ferry at 34th street and arrive on the beach shores of Sandy Hook in 50 minutes.

Another view – with swans.

Work is what is more likely to draw me out here in the summer than leisure activity of my own – my garden in NJ beckons! It has been a few years since my last jaunt during my final summer at Jazz at Lincoln Center when I came out for one of the orchestra’s engagements and to visit supporters out here.

Geese outside my window Friday morning, gently honking.

Then like now I stay in the gorgeous home of a thoughtful friend who I met during my years at the Met. This year I perched in a lovely guest cottage on her property which overhangs the shores of Georgica Pond. It is a heart stoppingly beautiful view of this protect inlet, just a canoe ride around the bend from the open ocean. I woke to geese gently honking out the glass doors to the water. (I wrote about one other sojourn at her house here.)

Views from Long House.
Amphitheater there with Ai Weiwei Sculptures
Apple tree arbor.

The weather here, like the weather everywhere in the area, has been lousy. Overcast and drizzly days, far cooler here than the humidity of the city which we have been subjected to. (I always vacation in August as over time I have decided that July tends to just have bad weather.) So,although I did get a short walk on the beach I never made it into the pool nor was I able to sit outsie with a book or thihs laptop and enjoy the world going by.

However, in a yard filled with water fowl, birdfeeders, a glory of bunnies and chipmunks there was always something going on. It reminded me so nicely of the river view from the house I grew up in where there was always something to watch or look at in the yard.

Also, the last time I visited here my mom was still alive. I remember sending her many photos of the views here and my fingers still itched to be able to do it.

Images from the Ark at the Church in Sag Harbor.

This weekend’s destination was an exhibition of animal sculptures and a reception celebrating the animal hospital I work for. The building housing it, an exhibition space called The Church, which was once originally – a church that is. Philosophically I believe that Hamptons events consist almost entirely of people who live in greater Manhattan and who you could see there for less cost in time and money. (In other words, this feels unnecessary from a fundraising perspective.)

Aside from the event, my host took me to Long House gardens – the estate of Jack Larsen – where we took a wonderful long walk through the landscape, stumbling on sculpture nestled among the plantings. Having once worked for the Central Park I have some sense of the scope that the care of such seemingly casual plantings need. It was a day closed technically closed to the public and the staff was out enforce to take advantage of the weather between fits of spitting rain, broken by short periods of intense sunny heat.

Main drag in East Hampton taken while waiting for the bookstore to open. The one in Sag Harbor is the good one though!

I will report quite a bookstore discovery in Sag Harbor. I had gone to a satisfactory bookstore in East Hampton earlier in the visit where I was intrigued by a volume or two. However, Sag Harbor Books (info here) appears to have consumed a used bookstore we went in search of and the end result is a combination of books old and new for sale, just a block up from the water. I had limited time there but grabbed these two volumes and will give them a try. If you find yourself in this area make the trip to see it. Ignore the first editions and cases with huge prices and head to the carefully tended and curated shelves of more generic offerings. (There was a strong evidence of westerns and cowboy options. Kim is a fan but his reading so voracious and longstanding that I hesitate to buy for him. He is getting a t-shirt on this trip which is an odd choice, but I saw a color I liked and I grabbed it at a general store.)

General store in East Hampton where I purchased a t-shirt for Kim and some very over priced hair ties.

As I finish this I am on the Jitney this Saturday morning. It will be afternoon by the time it reaches you all and those regular readers may be wondering where I have wandered off to. I won’t get back to Manhattan until 12:30 and will need to get settled with photos and all before sharing this. However, I promise a rare treat in terms of a cat item tomorrow so stay tuned.

Attached?

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I find myself at a perch that used to be most familiar, Kim’s computer at the foot of his long drawing table. It is a somewhat superior spot to my usual view of a bookcase at my desk/work table behind where he is seated (even as I write, working away on this Saturday morning). This is one of those “slice of life here at Pictorama” posts.

Back at the commencement of Covid in March of ’20, a very basic beast of a laptop that I had purchased for work went into daily use at home for the next almost three years. (I have written several posts about that work from home period. A few can be read here and here.) That rather anonymous laptop died a slow death after taking a beating during those Covid years. I was very fond of it by then but it had developed the unfortunate habit of locking itself periodically a habit which it could not be broken of. Intervention made it meltdown completely. Rather than take another clunky Jazz at Lincoln Center owned laptop I purchased my own.

Early Covid desk set up with work laptop here.

I turned to a friend who has helped us with computer issues in the past and asked him to find me the lightest laptop possible. At time, January of ’23, my job at the animal hospital wasn’t even a glimmer in my eye yet and I assumed I would return to my domestic and international travel for Jazz at Lincoln Center and lugging a heavy laptop was exhausting. Bernie found me the lightest little laptop in the world – barely weighing more than my elderly iPad and keyboard at four pounds it is a basic but very usable little fellow. Although the travel has largely been to and from New Jersey, I never regret how very light it is, tucked into a bad or suitcase.

It was rebuilt and happened to also come in this sort of pretty rose gold color. It cost me $378. Since it was now my own computer once set up at my work space I migrated to it for everything and left my weekend morning perch at this one, where I had spent many a Saturday and Sunday writing to you all. There were adjustments to be made – most significantly a very small screen, the price of such a small, light laptop. Nonetheless, it has gotten me through many trips to New Jersey and has been my cheerful morning companion daily since its purchase.

Blackie as a hard working home office cat during Covid.

At first I missed sitting in this spot a bit. Looking at Kim rather than at the back of his head as we chat. I get to look out the window from here too. I am though, as I have opined before, very much a creature of habit so my routine has been upset and it leaves me out of sorts.

It is odd to me how attached we sometimes become to these anonymous bits of equipment we spend our days with. Not all of them mind you – some I have happily sent into oblivion. I have not been one much to name them or humanize them, but we spend time with them and unthinkingly store things on them we want to keep. We understand that they are always temporary but periodically we get caught. I don’t have a lot on the hard drive of that computer I don’t have elsewhere but it would be inconvenient to lose it.

Meanwhile, in other news, I have been fighting the good fight with a problem in my mouth for well over a year. Several surgeries and the most recent ending in (very) painful failure. This happened earlier this week. After the unexpected surgery I came home and fell into bed for several hours. When I finally woke up sufficiently at the end of the day to spend a half hour answering the most urgent work emails, I sat down at the computer and signed on and…a black screen. I shut it down and tried again. And again.

I do question, if I need to buy another laptop – would I buy a rebuilt inexpensive one again? I mean, I got my money’s worth in a sense. It is rebuilt so it makes it seem less disposable although as I probe I am not sure if that is true. I am open to suggestions and thoughts on this one.

Therefore, immediately following the writing of this off to the Geek Squad or u break it we fix it for a long morning of waiting and paying. The good news is that the pain in my mouth has started to abate which improves my mood for this venture considerably.

Blackie Visits the Vet

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I have written before about Blackie and his adventures at the vet – these adventures (five days in the ICU there) which ultimately radically influenced my leaving Jazz at Lincoln Center for the huge change and challenge of raising money for this remarkable and unusual animal hospital here in New York City. (That pivotal post can be found here.) Today is an all about animals post.

Most recently over Thanksgiving we had to haul the little fellow in because he wasn’t eating and I was treated to the ER experience of our visitors (over a holiday – always a holiday or weekend, or the middle of the night I say) and I wrote about it here.

Blackie is now a thirteen year old diabetic cat who requires insulin daily. Although we’ve tried pinning a monitor on him to track his sugar it either falls out or he cheerfully tears it off – I can’t blame him I’m sure. He can’t understand why someone would stick such a thing in him. It would be life changing however if we could track his sugar, like a human, and adjust it to at least major trends. Instead, we have to pack him up periodically and take him over.

People both professionally and personally ask me about pet insurance and my answer is usually that with seven cats there’s no way I can afford insurance. It would have been nice to figure out that he should have it early on but no, it was before it was really prevalent. Meanwhile, Blackie has long been in the lead for cost of health care however and I am relieved to blunt it some with a staff discount. (For the record, our vets urge people to get insurance for their pets.)

Taking Blackie to the vet (or anywhere – think trips to NJ) is an ordeal. Somehow through magic cat radar he intuits our intentions bizarrely early in the process. (What are the tells I wonder? How do we keep tipping him off?) The result is him heading to the one spot under our bed where we cannot reach him without taking the mattress off of said bed. This is an athletic feat to say the least.

However, the little fellow has been drinking a lot of water and is looking a bit thin so I finagled an appointment and this week we took him over for a sugar check. Kim was very crafty and got him in the carrier very early. He was unusually quiet on this trip, not his usual yowling.

A pensive Blackie on my lap the other morning.

We got there very early and he was taken to the new feline unit (recently named by a generous donor) in the bowels of our building – a new tower in the final stages of completion which is appended onto the original 60’s white brick building. He was extremely unimpressed although it is so much nicer than where he has stayed previously – a cramped space about a third of the size and cheek by jowl with noisier dogs who are also there for a stay. The new space is reserved for cats (and the occasional bunny) and is very quiet and calm. I am told that it is a favorite place for LVT’s (like nurses at an animal hospital) to want to work in and that the cats are responding well to it. Cages have space for litter boxes and a hideaway area. Blackie embraced the hideaway. (Shown in the photo at the top in his cage – this taken by one of my colleagues, Erica, who stopped by to give him some pets.)

It always interests me where the personal pet parent and the professional fundraising for the hospital cross and this is what I was thinking about when I started this post today. Although I get frustrated with the pace of change there and what I am trying to accomplish, I am always so incredibly impressed and grateful for the superb care that Blackie gets. It is very real inspiration to get back on it and move forward. The new space as a result of money received through our capital campaign is a tangible result. It helps to blunt and curb my daily frustrations.

Hard to know, but this is Blackie signaling that I should leave my work chair and let him have it.

Blackie’s sugar was very high so we have increased his insulin. Additional blood tests came back okay so we think the weight loss (not insignificant, several pounds) is related to that. As always, the thoroughness and thoughtfulness of the team inspires and reinvigorates me.

Due to the blood tests Blackie came home with a bright red bandage on his hind leg. As he hopped out of the carrier (always amazed to be back home) he made pretty short shrift of joyfully tearing it off and sending it flying! Later that evening I got a thoughtful text from one of the interns or residents who referenced the bandage and said I should feel free to take it off. I told them of Blackie’s gleefully disposal of it and they laughed. He goes back in a month for a check up, but we are relieved and grateful for his relative clean bill of health.

January

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: January is a tough month for me. Personal ghosts swirl around me a bit this time of the year, with a strong dash of snow, sleet and extreme cold thrown into the misery mix. This year is no exception, but today I will focus on another anniversary and update those readers who are interested on my new job which also hit the one year mark last week.

I am somewhat fascinated by our proximity to the underbelly of the 59th Street Bridge and, as above, the apparatus for the cable car to Roosevelt Island.

I have been known to say that the thing about accepting a challenge is there’s always the very real chance you will fail – that is if it is a true challenge. Obviously we gauge our chance for success when we accept and enter into challenges, but really, a true challenge means that the specter of failure should remain front of mind.

I wrote at the one year point in my job at Jazz at Lincoln Center after leaving the Metropolitan Museum after almost 30 years. (Those separate posts can be found here and here.) I definitely had a tiger by the tail at that point and with that job. It was more than another year before I started to feel like I had it on the run and it took a pandemic to make me feel as though I really gained some ground. (One of the posts I wrote about the challenges of managing my team remotely during Covid can be found here.)

Spectacular rooftop view from the old office, but we were rarely up there.

The learning curve at Jazz was tremendous and the first year was just about immersing myself in the life of the orchestra, traveling with them and understanding them as well as establishing routines and process.

While the new gig at a large non-profit veterinary hospital is remarkably less dysfunctional, the challenge of breaking the code of the organization and fundraising for it may be an even higher bar. My biggest challenge is the difficulty of immersing myself in the life of the hospital. My office is not physically in the hospital and therefore I am only present when needed. Finding your way into a complex organization is hard enough but to do it from a distance is of course even harder.

Photo of the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra on a lunch break while traveling through the south on tour in ’17. This was part of how I got to know them and the organization.

When I talk about success and failure, of course first and foremost is actually raising money and creating a dependable functioning machine for doing so. More science than art, a good fundraising operation should understand how and from where it gets money so that it is achievable each year, and that forms a foundation on which growth of contributed income can be based.

It is this latter piece I have not yet achieved. As I hit the one year mark I feel as though I barely know the organization and that I have yet to build even the shell of a machine, instead I have taken the year to study the existing process and procedures. I am sorry not to be further along, but remind myself that I signed up for a marathon and not a sprint and how can you improve on things if you do not understand precisely how they work.

The Ritz Diner is one of the few eating establishments near work I occasionally frequent for breakfast or lunch.

And while I have not cracked the code I did meet more of the medical staff over the holidays and I need to take advantage of offers to spend time in some of the services – a day in Surgery, in the ER and maybe an overnight in the hospital. There were offers of meetings and coffee and part of my New Year’s resolutions for the job has to be a regular schedule of these.

Exam room pic from Blackie’s first stint at the hospital.

Still and most importantly, taking it out of the abstract, some of you know that Blackie decided to stop eating in the days leading up to Thanksgiving. He did a long stint at the hospital about two years ago and recently we started bringing him there to care for his diabetes. (Posts about both of these Blackie events can be found here and here.) Despite setbacks in does still feel like I am in the right place at the right time for me.

For some things there are no real solutions aside from time and hard work and so here we go.

Party Prep – Dolling Up

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It just seems that periodically nothing will do but to purchase another Louis Wain card. They are a gentle mood enhancer – like champagne. I don’t want to immerse myself, but just sipping a bit of the bubbly is very cheering. I recently read and subsequently wrote about the new book devoted to him and tracking the emergence of the pet cat in the Victorian world (that post can be found here) and it sent me meandering over to eBay where I picked this up.

I highly recommend this recently published volume!

Presently, none of my Louis Wain cards hang here at Deitch Studio (which has, after all, very little wall space with Felix taking up more than his share. I’m starting to think there might be a nice spot at the house in New Jersey for my growing collection of these cards. You have to be able to get pretty close to these to fully enjoy them – they need to be at eye level.

Prepping for the Party is the title of this card. It’s a New Year’s card and at the bottom it declares, A very happy New Year to you and it is signed at the bottom, Your tru friend Ida. It was mailed on December 29, 1904 from Austin, Texas to Miss Dona Hannig, in Lockhart, Texas where it was marked received on December 30. (Without doing a proper survey of my posts, I would say 1904 was a very good year for postcards. It is, of course, well before the appearance of my beloved Felix, but the postcard world was buzzing with the likes of Louis Wain among others.)

Back of the card – most of mine come from Britain but this one came from and has been in the US.

In this card we have a very comic two cats doing some party primping. The standing cat, which in my opinion, is somehow inexplicably male, is helping to curl the long hairs of the gray cat. He is using curling papers which would have been heated, as I understand it, with a hot tong device. Understandably, gray cat is wondering what she has gotten herself into. He looks just the tiniest bit maniacal. Would you let this cat come at you with something dangerous? Maybe not…

Because of my chosen career in fundraising, I go to a lot of parties. Most are affairs which go right from the office to the event with barely a brush through the hair or application of lipstick. However, periodically there is a need to dust off the formal wear and put on the dog so to speak.

When I was younger and worked for the Metropolitan Museum there were numerous black tie events scattered through the calendar. There were annual events, the famous Costume Institute Gala in May, an annual dinner to raise money for Acquisitions in December, but with the various exhibition openings and whatnot, I kept a lot of formal wear at the ready, literally wearing out a series of long black dresses and trousers.

Before a major renovation of our offices there sometime in the late ’90’s, we would all gather in a huge women’s bathroom at one end of our hall of offices. It had, oddly for a bathroom, an enormous round window which faced the front entrance of the museum (it is now a gallery devoted to special exhibitions of Greek and Roman Art) and a very tricky and somewhat rickety blind covering it. It was always a question if you’d be able to close it – if you’d bother as well.

From the dinner at the Jazz at Lincoln Center Gala in April of 2023.

Fifteen or twenty women (or more!) squeezing into a such a space to dress always had a college dorm gone wild feel to it. There was a sense of community and corps d’esprit among us of course. Plenty of folks to zip you up, lend you something you forgot or help you with a run in your stockings. You dressed quickly so you could give up your space to someone waiting. The more experienced of us would start early and be done before the majority swept in.

At Jazz at Lincoln Center this was miniaturized with both a smaller staff and a much smaller space which necessitated thoughtful rotation. Sometimes I would just throw something over the window in my office which faced the hall and dress there. By then we had fewer black tie events it was mostly just our annual spring Gala.

My current gig will host its annual Top Dog Gala on Tuesday where we will celebrate the work of NYPD’s police dogs – each dog named for an officer who died in the line of duty. (My evening as a guest to it last year can be found documented in a post here.) Everywhere I have worked in the past has been a destination for events so I have never had to use a venue which we will this week. This greatly alters my sense of control which I am dealing with. I gather that they will devote a greenroom to our dressing needs so another variation to add to the theme – bad lighting (for make-up!) and cramped space.

Top Dog Gala in December 2023.

I used to wonder what it would be like to dress at home and at my leisure for such events. This is of course the difference between working and being a guest! Carefully packing will commence this weekend and I will bring my things on Monday so I have a second chance on Tuesday if I’ve forgotten anything. I wardrobe dry run needs to happen this weekend. It is festive attire and between that and having lost a bunch of weight recently I am in new territory for attire.

Think of us on Tuesday. A couple of million dollars has been raised and we will honor these hard working dogs whose care we endeavor to care for at the hospital, a longstanding partnership with the city. I’d like to work toward a Top Cat year and perhaps today’s card more appropriate for that eventuality!

T’day Cat Tale

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As is sometimes the case I am on the train and taking a moment to start this post. It is a wet and dark Thanksgiving morning and the train to NJ is crowded. (I can only imagine how crowded the trains on the other side of the tracks going into the city are!) I had to hoof it four blocks to Penn Station in a pouring rain.

Luckily, I was dressed for the elements (that coat I mentioned buying in last week’s post arrived – it is excellent) and traveling fairly lightly. There are a bunch of small hotels near there and many families, clearly here for the parade and holiday, were milling around in front of them, despite the rain. I feel badly for them – even these modest hotels cost them a fortune and it should be a nice treat for the kids – too bad about the rain! Kids looked pretty perky anyway.

The last few minutes of my entry into Red Bank on the train.

I had actually planted myself in NJ on Tuesday night – smartly avoiding the worst of the travel press. Kim had decided to sit this one out in Manhattan so I was hoping for a few days there doing errands and working in the garden to prep it for winter. Then Blackie stopped eating on Tuesday night and the malaise it continued and worsened Wednesday morning. Therefore, I had to come back to New York and we had to take him to the hospital where I work now.

I will start by saying that his vet was responsive in a way that I don’t think any of us feel we can expect from our own doctors let alone our vets. Despite being the day before Thanksgiving, she answered my email at 7:30 am right away and we exchanged several emails before making the decision to bring him in. First, we tried an external stimulant which Kim picked up and applied to no avail.

It was a remarkable relief to see familiar faces around me and helping with him. It had seemed somewhat impersonal in the past when I went there but now I am family. This is especially notable because I have felt isolated at this job and it has been hard to get to know people. However, one of my friends (one of the first people I met there and got to know – she is a Veterinarian Technician) carried him out to me and despite his anxiety he clearly enjoyed Erica’s attentions – that woman knows how to pet a cat!

This stuff is like kitty crack but if they won’t eat it is a very good go to.

His illness, or disinterest in food specifically, remains a mystery. After I got him to eat some Churu at the hospital we decided to take him home last night. I’m glad we did; it was the right decision. He’s diabetic and I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t have to take him in again for a glucose test which will take a full day, but with the holiday if we can get him to eat even small amounts I would rather have him home. He ate a small breakfast for me this morning and so I am heading back to NJ where I will have a handful of friends coming for dinner!

***

Thanksgiving was a quiet affair with the aforementioned couple of friends. I had a winter gardening frenzy of bulb planting (luckily the ground was soft from that Thanksgiving rain) and trimming the dahlias and bagging them up for the winter. Lastly, the geraniums needed to be taken out of the front planters and they are potted and living in the kitchen for now. The trellises I grew my cucumbers on are tucked away in the garage. I had hoped to do more cleanup in the veggie patch but didn’t have time.

Taken this morning. A bit perkier and wondering what on earth Kim and I will do to him next though.

I returned to New York Friday evening. Blackie has resumed eating more regularly but still requiring a stimulant and some encouragement. Essentially we are now in a stage where he’ll eat really good stuff but is still turning his nose up at the healthier real food we expect him to eat. However, he just wolfed down a smidge of smoked salmon so I would say his eating instincts are not totally disabled.

Cookie is taking full advantage of the situation. To be clear, we are martinets when it comes to the cats eating habits. They eat at 6am and 6pm. They get a mix of canned food and dry food is out for them. We have not introduced treats into their lives except to inveigh them to eat on the onset of their stint in New Jersey. When they both stopped eating the first time I was introduced to Churu treats and keep them on hand for such events. Those things must be like kitty crack is all I can say.

Cookie napping recently. I must say, she doesn’t seem concerned about Blackie but is happy about all the treats in the house.

I brought some Churu back from New Jersey with me as Kim had used up our small stash. Cookie keeps taking us over to it and showing it to us – hoping we will take the hint and give her some.

I know I haven’t written much about this new gig. This past year I have been working to get a lot under my belt in a very different area of fundraising and in a very specific place. Building this fundraising operation to full throttle is a journey which has only just launched. I wouldn’t have Blackie or Cookie (or Beau, Gus, Milty, Peaches and Stormy – the NJ Five) sick for anything obviously, but in some ways this recent incident has informed me with an interesting piece of the puzzle for fundraising there.

Some of what I experienced was clearly because I am a staff member, but having used them before with a substantial illness with Blackie, the good communication and much of what I experienced was in play then too – which influenced my decision to take this job. It is a special place, in part possible because it is a non-profit. My job is figuring out how to unlock all its potential.

On the Wall

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: The other evening I was meeting a former colleague and we were discussing the shifting sands of the office place – he who now works entirely remotely for a national not-for-profit and I am who am still adjusting to life at an animal hospital where many things are different. The conversation somehow turned first to mail (I am struggling with the local post office) and then to handwriting. I told him that when I worked at the Met I handwrote many notes and that I hoped over time that when people saw the envelope they would recognize my handwriting immediately.

The verso of a postcard from a prior post – sometimes the writing is half the fun, other times indecipherable.

Even less than a decade ago mail was a much bigger part of my job. This area in fundraising has had a continued contraction and, while I am far from an expert, I am struggling to find its place at work as older supporters still like it but it is expensive and you can lose money. Direct mail aside, my days at the Met were packed with notes written – a constantly dwindling pile of cards atop my desk for notes to attach to things, my business card and stacks of cards from the museum’s shop which I worked my way through with birthday wishes and other occasions. For years all of our invitations were handwritten and stamped. We did them at home and were paid by the piece – I helped pay for my trip to Tibet by addressing envelopes when we opened the new Asian Art Wing there.

At the Met we had a mailroom which collected our piles of mail and delivered ours to our office. I have learned over time that this is a luxury in offices.

Our Top Dog Gala invitation this year. We are celebrating the work of the police dogs and this handsome German Shephard is representing for it. Invitations have printed envelopes now.

At Jazz I immediately noticed fewer written missives, as well as less time on the telephone – everything was pretty much online and email including invitations. If not a dedicated mailroom, an office manager did distribute mail and bring it to the post office daily. Covid interrupted even that and mail stilled to a full stop and barely ground back into use in the post-Covid work world.

My office today slots mail into boxes in the main hospital building which we try to pick up daily. Somehow I have never gotten the swing of mail pick up there (due to construction it moves around) and we tend to stamp and mail things from public boxes or a trip to the post office. It isn’t true but sometimes I feel like the only person who produces mail beyond the occasional mailing of things like Gala invitations.

Very recognizable Louis Wain signature as per yesterday’s post!

However, what we really touched on the other night and what has stayed in my mind since is the memory of handwriting I have known. I recently had to go through check registers of my mom’s for tax purposes and spending the day immersed in her (slowly deteriorating) handwriting made her and that final year together very real again.

I have only a few samples of my sister’s writing, although it was a neat distinctive cursive I would recognize anywhere – she had the habit of looping the bottom of her capital L’s backward as part of her signature. I never asked her about that.

I saw less of my father’s handwriting than other family members, but certainly would recognize his signature. Somewhere I have a few letters from him, written while he covered the Olympics in Sarajevo. Meanwhile my maternal grandmother had a round script that would come with birthday cards, some of which I still have.

Autographed books, always with a picture, by Kim here and below.

There are those folks whose handwriting I realize I do not know, or only have an inkling of, like my father’s parents who died when I was fairly young. (To my brother Edward, I am realizing that we never correspond with handwritten notes. I don’t really know yours although maybe I would recognize it if I saw it?) I have friends whose handwriting I can see in my mind – some former colleagues and others like my friend Suzanne who is an artist and whose very round writing is distinctive in my mind’s eye.

Kim’s handwriting and his signature are of course well known and very recognizable. Legibility in his line of work is essential. He eschews my cursive as hard to read. (There was a time when I was younger when I corresponding in a tiny neat print, but I found it labor intensive for my needs.) Recent trouble accurately reading numbers people have written on things has reminded us of the importance of neatness – not just for cartoonists, but for all of us. After all, first and foremost, it is a form of communication.

One of the nice things about living with Kim is he continues to receive (and send of course) letters and packages in the mail. We get more real mail than most folks.

I especially like this one for Shroud for Waldo!

When I was in college I remember a professor at the beginning of a course talking about how handwriting was a mark system like any other, one we use constantly and defines us. (She also pointed out that how we dress is another visual vocabulary all our own and I think of that sometimes when I put on make-up which in some ways is the closest I get to painting these days.) However, handwriting is the one that is intimately tied to who we are and is our very own – obviously like finger prints our signature can be used to identify us in a court of law; it is that singular.

Of those folks like my mother, father and sister who are now lost to me the thought of their writing, coming across it or remembering it, makes me miss them all the more. However, it is a comforting odd bit of us that we keep, thoughtfully or unconsciously, and remains in the world long after we are gone.