Our plane touched down at Sea-Tac
airport around 11:35 p.m. on May 31st, 2003. I was
exhausted and excited. Carla, an ex-girlfriend, came with me to help me move out to Seattle. She really came to be a
cat wrangler. Apparently when you travel by air there is a "one pet
per person" policy. And since I had two cats, Pixie and Pollo, there
had to be another person to be in charge of one of them. I really
felt bad for my cats because by that time they had been in their cat
carriers for about 7 hours and they were not having a good time. We
went to get our luggage, pick-up the rental car I reserved and hopped on 1-5
north towards Seattle. We made our way to the Olive Way exit which
led us to the Capitol Hill neighborhood. We turned left on Harvard
Ave E and made it to The Marlene Renee apartments, my new home. After
we brought everything inside and freed the cats, I went to the QFC a
block a way to get a few supplies. The air was cool and thick with
the smell of sweet flowers and I was very happy that this was my new
home.
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| Carla and I at the top of the Space Needle |
The first time I was ever in Seattle
was in 1995. I only went because a friend of mine who had just been
there thought I might like it and suggested that I go. I had a week's
vacation and didn't have a plan for anything else. It was also a
great opportunity to escape my job as equipment manager in an NYC
film equipment rental house and my life in the borough of Brooklyn aka Kings
county. I also marveled at the fact that it would be the first time I
would be out of the eastern time zone. The trip was a blast. There
was a day trip to Mt Rainier, the beauty of the Pike Place Market,
coffee shops and funky vintage stores. The trip was around labor day
so it was also Bumbershoot time. "What the hell was a bumbershoot?!" I
yelled. "It's an umbrella.", they said. It was also an annual international music and arts festival. That event was highlighted by
seeing the Reverend Horton Heat inspire a crazy ass mosh-pit. I stayed in a youth hostel on
Capitol Hill, which turned out to be full of internationals. There were the
two down-on-their-luck Austrians, the four birds from Britain and a couple from South Korea. There was also the creepy guy from Colorado
who I caught watching some of the British ladies sleep in the coed
hostel. Aside from the creeper, Seattle became a place I always had in
the back of my head as a place to possibly live one day.
 |
| My first Seattle home. The Marlene Renee Apartments on Capitol Hill |
I had been employed at Oxygen Media in
NYC when in August of 2002 the show I was working on as a video editor got
cancelled. I had been really thinking about a change for a few years
at that point anyway so I thought maybe I'd give Seattle a go. Oxygen
Media had been the best place I had ever worked(it still is I think)
especially in terms of benefits. It was on 75 Ninth Ave at the old
Nabisco company in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan. There was a
gourmet sandwich shop there that served a warm tomato, avocado and
mozzarella sandwich that I still think about from time to time. I
could be on a bus totally zoning out and I'll think, “Oh yeah,
that sandwich.” Anyway after I was laid off, it didn't look like
there would be any other prospects at Oxygen and after working
free-lance for a few months, I decided in December of that year that 1st of June 2003 would be the day I would move to Seattle aka King
County.
 |
| hangin' out at the international fountain |
The idea was that I would save as much
as I could and try to find a job before I move. I also would have to
get rid of a lot of junk I had held on to for years. The money saving
didn't work out that well, nor did getting a job but I did mange to
buy a digital camera. I had wanted a camera for years but never got
one. When I was a kid about 7 or 8, I spent one summer taking all
kinds of photographs but after that I never pursued it further other
than a few times when I found myself with some friend's
cameras for a week or two. I always though it would be
a good idea to have a camera with me at all times so I could take
photos when I saw something I thought worthy of a pic. So I finally
got a camera, a simple point and click, which would help me chronicle
my adventure. Since the money saving didn't go so well, I had hoped
to sell a bunch of furniture and other stuff that would be
impractical to take 3,000 miles across the country. Goodbye wooden
sleigh bed. I imagined my pockets stuffed with cash but alas that was not
to be either. I guess though I had enough money to get me through for a
while. I was sure I would get a job in a few weeks after arriving in
Seattle.
 |
| The Space Needle from Volunteer Park |
It was the day of the move, May 31st,
2003. Throughout the whole moving experience I never had any
doubts or second guessed myself that this was the right thing to do.
After living in Brooklyn most of my life(I did some time in The Bronx, South
Jersey, Connecticut and Valley Stream) I was ready for a new life. My
aunt picked Carla and I up with the 2 kitties from my Bay Ridge
apartment to take us to Kennedy Airport. Along the way on the Belt
Parkway we passed Starrett City in Brooklyn, where I grew up and
lived for 15 years. I reflected only for a second, especially since
Pollo had just peed in her carrier and hence, on Carla. When we got
the airport I cleaned up Pollo, and checked all the bags. Now all that we
had to do was go through the whole TSA deal and get on the plane.
When we got to the metal detector, the TSA agent said I had to take
the cats out of their carriers and carry them through the detector. Both cats did
not like to be picked up. Add to that the fact that they were
freaking the fuck out because that had no idea what was happening to
them, I had visions of things going very wrong. I imagined that I
would pick up Pixie and she would squirm and claw her way out of my
arms and then I would try to run after her. At this time there was
still a heavy presence of police with huge automatic machine guns
ready to take any body out who might be a problem. I imagined I would run after Pixie and they would
run after me. The airport would be put on lock-down and I would die in
a hail of bullets. But of course that did not happen and both Pixie
and Pollo went through the metal detector with out incident. Seattle
here we come.
 |
| Pollo & Pixie relieved to be out of their cat carriers |
Carla stayed with me a few days so we
did some sightseeing. Space Needle, Pike Place Market, Gas Works
Park, the typical stuff. Also she helped me get a used queen sized
bed from Dixon's on 12th & Pine. Other that a few
essentials I brought with me on the plane, all my other things: computer, kitchen stuff, books etc., I had shipped via UPS and would arrive in a few weeks. I really didn't think about
what I'd do about the bed situation but after one night on the floor
a bed was the first thing I really needed to get. Put it on the card.
A few days later I dropped Carla off at the airport along with the
rental car and now I would really begin my Seattle life in my
beautiful loft apartment with 18 foot ceilings. Or was it 20? Or maybe
16? Who knows. There's nothing like experiencing a new city you've
just moved to. The new stores, restaurants, buses and all the
things that will eventually become routine are exciting as you
experience them the first few times. I loved exploring each new
block. I was pretty wide-eyed. One of the first things I did after
Carla left was visit Vivace's Coffee stand, which I could see from
my widow. One of the few friends I knew in Seattle told me about it
and said it was pretty damn good coffee. I asked the barista for a
coffee. He said they didn't have drip and suggested that I try an
Americano, so I did. I was as excited as Agent Cooper to tell him how
much I enjoyed that Americano. At that moment I became a coffee snob. I
eventually became a regular at that stand and became friendly with
that barista, Brian. Sadly he passed away in September of 2011 in a
bicycle accident. There were a few outside tables at the stand and
they proved to be a great people watching spot on all my morning and afternoon
coffee runs(sometimes with a muffin) which I just would put on
the card. I didn't do all to well in finding a job in that first few
weeks. But at least I did get my 20 boxes of stuff delivered by UPS
so my place was becoming more of a home. I did have to get a
few chairs to sit in. Put it on the card. I was meeting people and
still excited for things to come. When you entered my apartment the
kitchen was immediately to the right. A few paces ahead on the left was the staircase that goes up to my bedroom and further past that was
the living room. I had already gotten into the habit of putting
magazines I would recycle on the staircase. The idea being that when
I would leave my place, the magazines would be about chest height, I
would notice them and take them with me to recycle. One day leaving the magazine there proved to be the worst thing I could have done.
 |
| Those stairs-Pixie is about where I left the magazine |
It was a Friday.
No success on any job leads so I went to hang-out a bit at Vivace's.
I was already becoming familiar with some of the neighborhood
passers-by. I went to the Fred Meyer that used to be in the Broadway
Market, now occupied by QFC, because I thought I should have a set of
steak knives. Put it on the card. I came home and went the bathroom,
which is up the stairs in the loft. After I was done I started
walking down the stairs and I saw the cats sleeping so adorably above
the stairs in the little nook, which seems to have been made
especially for an upright dresser. As I was walking down the stairs
and continuing to look up at my sleeping pets, my right foot slipped
on a magazine I had placed there to eventually recycle. I often
wonder when I think back at this incident, how high my body actually
got before my left foot came crashing down a few steps below. The
immediate sensation was like a punch right between the eyes, with a
blinding white light and I'm sure I heard the phrase FUCK YOU! at the
time as well. I ended up a the bottom of the stairs. Now I had a goal
of going throughout my life with out breaking any bones. That
was over for surely I had some broken bones. In fact I was hesitant to look down at the great pain emanating from my left ankle
for fear I would be seeing some bones poking through my skin. I
looked down and there were no bones peaking through. I was immediately
relieved. Despite the tremendous pain and
the quick swelling, I felt I would be okay. But of course I needed to
get to the hospital. I banged on my neighbor's door. I don't know why
I did this, there was no answer anyway. I had my cell phone so I
called 911. Pretty quickly EMT's and firefighters were at my door. As
they carried me out on the gurney, I noticed their big fire truck along
with the ambulance. Such a fuss for me? We rode the mile or two to
Swedish Hospital. I expected to get some pain medication immediately
but they don't give out pain-meds until after the X-rays due to the
fact that junkies and pill heads fake broken bones and such to get
said pain-meds. Taking the X-rays really hurt as the technician turned my leg to get the best
angle. Prognosis: trimalleolar fracture y'all. So I finally got my
percocets or vicadin and before I knew it I awoke with my leg in a
cast. Well that was the end of my first month in in Seattle.
 |
| 2 days after my accident at the Pride Parade |
I needed surgery
which required doctors to permanently put plates and screws in my leg to keep
my bones together. I was also full of pain medication that month. I
was nodding out like Keith Richards and waking up to really weird
songs filled with bizarre imagery like "Night on The Sun" by Modest
Mouse. There was also the Blue Angels incident. I was passed out on
my futon(a nice find on craiglist) and awoke to what I thought were
planes about to crash into my building. I looked out my window but
everything seemed okay. I turned on the internet and found out that the
Blue Angels were practicing for Seafair (an annual summer festival in
Seattle) Why didn't anyone tell about these LOUD Blue Angels? I spent the
days hobbling on my crunches over to Vivace's and also hanging out at
Scream barbershop, where my new friend, Heather worked as a stylist.
Scream was closer than Vivace's and it too offered for some ample
people watching. As far as any job prospects went, they were
non-existent. I had absolutely zero dollars coming in. All my
groceries and Americanos were put on the card. Thank god I still had
COBRA to take car of my medical bills or it really would have been
crazy. But despite all of this financial chaos, I was not worried. In
fact I remember saying to myself that it's weird that I'm not worried
about the dire financial situation I was in. Maybe it was because I
started dating somebody, Cynthia. Maybe it was because I was still very excited about my future in Seattle. Maybe I was just high on
all the drugs I was taking for my leg. Whatever it was, I did not worry. I have not
felt freedom like that since.
 |
| Cynthia-Maybe my first photo-shoot |
It was August and
I was able to getting a walking boot, which of course was much better
that crutches. I was hanging out with Cynthia and she was showing me
Seattle. She took me to the Ballard locks and educated me on the
salmon at the fish ladder that was there. She took me swimming in
Lake Washington and we went to places outside of Seattle like La Conner. It
was all very exciting. I continued to look for any jobs in video
editing but no luck. My dad and aunt had sent me some money. It
wasn't a lot but of course anything helped. One day when I was at Top
Pot Doughnuts putting a little treat on the card, I noticed a help
wanted sign in their window asking for a doughnut maker. I
immediately romanticized this and thought this would be a good idea.
I blame the drugs. I met the woman who was the supervisor. She told
me she liked to have fun. I have found that when people say they like
to have fun in a serious manner, they don't really like to have fun.
She told me to show up at their downtown store on 5th Ave
at 7 p.m. to make the doughnuts. The idea that I would be working all
night long didn't register. Again, the drugs. The night crew were all
at least 10 years younger than me and probably in bands or in college.
For the rest of the night we made doughnuts, filling out the orders
while the fun supervisor would occasionally scold the young doughnut makers
for their mistakes. After we filled all the orders and were all
tired, it was time to clean up everything. I realized then that this
sucked. This is a job I could not do. And it was because I could not
work overnight. I had a job once as a cashier at a parking garage at the end of Houston Street in NYC years earlier that was the graveyard
shift and I could never get used to it. I should have
remembered this when I first saw the help wanted sign. Also I was on
my feet all night. I still had my walking boot and my left leg was
not happy. So it was not to be. I did leave with as many doughnuts
as I wanted though. So now what? I went to temp agencies, hoping to
find anything. One of them hooked me up with a job that was only on
Sundays. It was a job a monkey could do. It was at Real Networks and
the job involved the NFL. Basically it was to listen to an NFL game
they were broadcasting over the internet. The feed was coming from
the particular home team's local radio broadcast. Every time there
was a commercial it was my job to pad down the audio until the game
came back on. In other words they didn't want the local commercials
broadcast across the internet. I'm sure there is software that can do
this now. Unbeknownst to me, another friend from Brooklyn, Andy, was
working at Real Networks. About 5 weeks into the monkey job, he
suggested that I should be the one to fill in the open broadcast
operator position. A broadcast operator is in charge
of connecting different clients to the internet and broadcasting
their programing across it. I took that job. It was a contracted,
full time job. I finally had a good, decent paying job after three
months of nothing. And so I was on my way.
 |
| At Real Networks broadcast operatin' 'n' shit |
I continued to
date Cynthia and work at Real Networks. My walking boot cast was gone
and I had done some rehab for my leg. I had a good first Seattle
Christmas and I was able to pay bills and eventually pay down that
“put it on the card” debt. The following year saw more new
experiences. Cynthia and I broke-up and I had to leave Real Networks
because of some law about how long a contractor can work at a company. I was initially bummed about having to leave but right after that, I
got my first video editing job at a place called Screaming Flea
Productions, where I ended up working over the next 8 years,
sometimes full-time, sometimes free-lance. I was able to get rid of
all that first year debt and eventually got some new debt with a
condo I bought in the free-wheelin' neighborhood of Fremont. But most
importantly in early 2005 I was introduced
to the wonderful world of burlesque. My friend,
who went by the stage name, Ruby Caliente, had asked me to take
photos at The Academy of Burlesque recital she was in. I was hooked
immediately. I eventually started to shoot a lot of live burlesque shows
and got involved in studio photography. And then of course I started to meet all these fabulous burlesque people. The rest, as they say, is
history. I would have never imagined the life I have today and the
wonderful people in it before I moved to Seattle. Some ways it's just
as normal as any other life. Ups and downs, new girlfriends and
break-ups, vacations, losing jobs, getting new ones, the passing of good friends and pets(rip Pixie and Pollo). On the other hand, it's
full of magical, glittery wonder. I really do have gratitude in the
life I have today and all the future possibilities it holds. So
here's to the next ten years.
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| What Seattle has done to me, and I'm so happy |
xoxo
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