My Mother's Urine

Phoenix, Ariz. – 24 hours, and counting.
Tomorrow, I bid adieu to my left kidney. I’m donating it to my mother, who has polycystic kidney disease (cysts overtake the two bean-shaped organs that filter out toxins and produce urine). It’s a hereditary disease. My sister has it; my brother might; I don’t. I learned that I had the sacred kidneys after several months of testing, including three days of poking and prodding in December at the Mayo Clinic in Phoenix.

Today, I feel very tripped out.
In recent weeks, I’ve been blasé about the upcoming surgery. Why think about it? I know surgery sucks; I know my body will be angry; I know I won’t be able to jog for four to six weeks. Bummer!
But, it’s Mom. It’s a cliché to say this, but she gave me life, and now I’m giving it back to her. What child gets that opportunity?
Honestly, I never gave my decision a second thought. And I’ve had fun joking about the whole ordeal. “Thank God I gave up that crack addiction a few years ago. That might have really hindered my chances to be a donor,” I’ve said in jest. “Next time you see me, I’ll be missing a body part,” I told my roommate before I left Syracuse, NY, on Saturday. “If you don’t hear from me again, it’s because I’ve died,” I’ve been writing in e-mails.
(Can I just intercept for a second here: I’m at the kitchen table, and my mother has just announced that she has so much cleaning to do today. She’s feverishly washing windows. She sounds out of breath. Is this normal pre-kidney transplant behavior?)
Anyhow, I’ve tried not to think about all of this. But it really hit me when I was packing for my trip a few hours before my flight on Saturday. What does one wear in the days and weeks following kidney removal?
I loaded up my suitcase with cotton and fleece garments and fuzzy socks. A few days before, I had bought five quarter-sleeve, fitted cotton T-shirts from H&M – in black, green, blue, red and white. A nice fusion of comfort and style.
Ah, but what about underwear?
My mother had wondered the same thing. So yesterday, we spent two hours at the mall, shopping for new panties and PJs.
Again, it all hit me, as I flipped through the racks of Easter Egg-colored pajamas (ick!) while Sarah McLachlan’s “Drawn to the Rhythm of the Sea” played in Macy’s lingerie department. “Holy shit,” I thought. “I’m shopping for kidney transplant attire.” And then Mom and I were in the dressing room, shouting to each other over the wall about what panties were the most fabulous. And I wondered how many mothers and daughters had shared this type of moment.
As we walked out of the mall, my mom said something funny. “Did you know the kidney will start making urine within 10 seconds?”
“Ten seconds once it’s inside you? That’s incredible,” I said.
It was a strange thought – my kidney making my mother’s pee. From now on, will she think of me every time she’s in the loo? Hmmm. -- JM

Comics That Aren't Funny

NYC -- It was a superb evening, a man says while walking out of a nightclub. Seconds later, blood squirts from his chest as he is stabbed to death by three thugs who flee with his wallet.
The Ivory Coast artist Mendozza y Caramba portrays this scene in his comic “AAAAA!” – part of the “Africa Comic” exhibition at Studio Museum Harlem through March 18. This show is anything but comical. It features hand-drawn illustrations in both color and black and white by 35 artists from 20 African nations. Common themes include violence, corruption, poverty and oppression.
One of the most disturbing comic strips, created in 1999 and titled “1974,” is by Joe Dog, a South African artist. In it, a white man and his two sons are attacked my ministrel caricatures outside of their suburban home: one son is speared in the back, another’s throat is slit and the father is struck in the head by an axe. In the 35th frame, we discover it’s all a dream. One of the boys awakes in a sweat, hurries to school and is beaten by his white teacher for being late. In the background, a black janitor sweeps the floor.
Many pieces are political commentaries, such as “Vote, Again and Again” by Jamón y Queso of Equatorial Guinea. Here, we witness a day in the life of a destitute day laborer. A mosquito pierces his skin; a mangy dog wanders through his garbage-strewn village; beer bottles crowd his nightstand. In the final frames, the man shreds a political poster and proclaims, “It’s hard to be a democrat when you are living under a dictatorship.”
Not all of the show’s content is utterly dismal. In a bizarre comic by Congolese artists Al’Mata and Sapi Gampez, two kids find a piano in the wreckage of a cargo plane. They learn how to play it and grow up to be celebrated performers. Their success prompts the ministry of culture to open a music conservatory.
For the 23 non-English comics, translations are available. But in most cases, the illustrations alone convey the story: life in parts of contemporary Africa is brutal. (JM)

Daily Thrill

NYC -- This evening, I attended a filming of The Daily Show, Comedy Central's fake news program. The guest was Harry Frankfurt, author of "On Bullshit" and most recently, "On Truth." The best part of the evening: my classmates and I met Jon Stewart after the show. We also had dinner with Steve Bodow, one of the show's head writers. We dined at Taboon, a *fabulous* Middle Eastern restaurant on 52nd street. What a groovy night! (JM)

Exhilarating Exhibit

NYC – When tourists plan their trip to Manhattan, a city teeming with attractions, chances are the Smithsonian’s Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum doesn’t make the cut. But an exhibit now on display at this Fifth Avenue institution should be catapulted to the top of every visitor’s must-see list.
“Design Life Now: National Design Triennial 2006” presents work by 87 designers in a mosaic of fields: architecture, fashion, furniture, film, graphics, science and product design. The exhibit, a fusion of art and science, is part of an ongoing series started in 2000 that seeks out the most cutting-edge projects by designers who are American or who are working in the U.S. The current show, which opened in December and runs through July 29, features work from 2003 to 2006.
The compilation is exhilarating. It’s diverse, thought-provoking and fun. Climbing the stairs is even entertaining, thanks to the “Electroland” installment, which features acrylic light panels and a sound system, both of which respond to movement. Unlike many design exhibits, this show includes pieces that for once are functional. Consider “Clear Blue Hawaii,” a 26-pound transparent kayak that folds up and fits in a backpack. Time magazine named it one of the coolest inventions of 2003.
Spread over three floors, the exhibit takes three hours to properly view. The pieces are not grouped by category; rather, a building model by Bernard Tschumi sits a few feet away from Ralph Rucci’s silk and wool crepe dresses. Innovation is the show’s unifying element, although the environment is a recurring subject. You can see robotic dogs that sniff out pollutants or an underwater vessel that probes the depths of the ocean while doing little harm to marine life.
If you have children in tow, they might want to scribble on the 6-foot-tall, three-dimensional chalkboard – it resembles a bunny – designed by Kidrobot, a creator and retailer of art toys.
The lack of a printed program is a drawback to the show, although its Web site, www.peoplesdesignaward.org, is extensive. You can buy a $40 catalogue, but not in the gift shop: they’re sold out. Perhaps tourists are flocking to the Cooper-Hewitt after all. (JM)

Odd Moment on Fifth

NYC – My friend Suzanne and I were walking down Fifth Avenue this evening when we saw an unusual site: the dismantling of the extravagant holiday window displays at Bergdorf Goodman on Fifth Avenue.
This high-end store has some of the most exquisite and ornate displays in Manhattan; I’m sure they take days to assemble. It was so bizarre to see men carrying off fake desserts and antique furniture and other props. The store was closed, but when we peered through the glass door, we saw mannequins from the displays lying on the floor. By the time we got on our way, a window we had examined only 10 minutes prior – it featured a giant polar bear made of feathers – was covered with a black sheet. (JM)

Sexy

NYC – Talk about a photo opp.
Yesterday at dusk, my friend Carl and I checked out the new, nine-story Frank Gehry building in Manhattan. It’s located in Chelsea, on the West Side Highway, and is expected to be finished in a couple of months. It will be the headquarters for InterActiveCorp, which owns Internet businesses like Evite and match.com. The 165,000-square-foot building reportedly cost $100 million.
I’m not smitten with it. I’ve seen it during the day, and while striking, the façade (glossy white) reminds me of a microwave door (ick!). The color is due to teeny ceramic dots on the glass, a technique called fritting that creates privacy and cuts down on energy costs.
While I’m not in love, I have to admit: I’m having second thoughts about the building after last night’s viewing. It’s very sexy against a darkening sky. And it makes for a great photograph. (JM)

When Good Architecture Is Bad

NYC -- The plan was ambitious: create a $102 million addition that would link three, precious historic buildings while accommodating a surging number of visitors.
That’s what The Morgan Library and Museum in midtown Manhattan set out to accomplish in 2000 when it hired the famed Italian architect, Renzo Piano, to design a structure that would nearly double the size of the 100-year-old institution founded by banking mogul John Piermont Morgan and revered today by scholars and tourists. A quarter million people visit the museum each year.
Last April, the addition was completed after three years of construction and the razing of an enclosed garden court and small, 50-year-old office building. The museum has billed the new structure as an architectural triumph, one that serves the institution’s contemporary needs while paying tribute to the adjoining buildings – all historic landmarks. But while the 75,000-square-foot addition is no doubt elegant, it hardly works in perfect harmony with its aging siblings: a 1906 Italianate designed by Charles McKim, an annex built in 1928, and a brownstone that dates to the 1850s.
The addition’s entrance, which features cherry wood paneling, opens into a three-story, glass atrium framed by ivory steel beams. One can sip coffee in the new café while gazing at the sky or watching the exposed, glass elevator transport visitors to the new second-floor exhibit space or third-floor reading room. If the atrium gets too sunny, automatic shades come down over the windows. The atmosphere is light, airy and modern.
All of this is in sharp contrast to the older buildings, which are dark, heavy and ornate. In the McKim building, the library contains 15,000 books stacked three levels high and a marble fireplace nearly 10 feet tall. Over in the study, red velvet covers the chairs, the curtains, the couch. No surface is unadorned.
Moving between the new and the old can be jarring. It’s difficult not to like the addition; it simply feels good, like a breath of fresh air. But for an institution that aims to preserve history, its new building should give greater regard to the past. (JM)

A for Effort

NYC -- I arrived in New York City this evening for a week-long arts journalism course. Class started right away at the Marriot Marquis Theatre. We attended the Broadway show, “The Drowsy Chaperone,” which is a harebrained comedy about a starlet who, on the day of her wedding, questions whether she really wants to be married. The show’s title is in reference to bride-to-be’s confidant (a maid of honor of sorts) who is perpetually drunk. Rather than consoling the bride, the Drowsy Chaperone imparts disheartening yet comical words of wisdom. Meanwhile, all sorts of silliness unfolds in the household where the ceremony is to take place.
The entire show is a figment of the narrator’s imagination. The narrator is a lonely guy and Broadway buff who pulls out an old record of his favorite musical. As the show tunes play, the production comes to life in his living room.
I really wanted to love this show. It’s loaded with all of the elements that make a musical worth the pricey ticket – sparkly costumes, sumptuous sets, lively music, a well-acted script. Yet, I wasn’t electrified. I hardly laughed. Many of the jokes were corny and predictable and overall, the show felt a bit flat.
I prefer productions with more edge, more sass. “The Drowsy Chaperone” is like riding one of those puny rollercoasters at Disneyland. Fun, but hardly thrilling. (JM)