Phillip Retuta's Blog

The Life and Times of a Filipino-American

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Nico Calendar 2021.

Sure, I can talk about the seditious Capitol riots or Trump losing it (and his Twitter account), but I’m pretty sure I covered that in a post before those assholes did anything. Of course, I stand by every single word, and I’m very surprised at how right I was about them.

Nah, I’m writing that my new 2021 calendars came in, featuring Dusty. And it’s great and even better than the ones I’ve made before. If you’re a friend and you’ve paid attention, I didn’t make a calendar for 2020. The loss of Nico was still raw — and good thing, 2020 was a year worth skipping. Also, after Nico passed in the spring of 2019, I had her 2019 calendar still up, and looking at her for the rest of that year was painful.

This 2021 calendar features a mix of Dusty, unseen Nico photos, and some of my friends’ dogs. Since getting Dusty in August, I simply don’t have enough photographic content to cover a full year, so there are obvious gaps (I didn’t want to shoot Easter photos in December). As an homage to Nico, maybe I’ll continue to call this the Nico Calendar for future years.

What creating this calendar has taught me, it’s how to research and organize again — like a thesis or school paper. Getting all the past Nico Calendars since 2016, I compiled all the important dates (including friends’ birthdays and weird holidays) into a spreadsheet. For special occasions that don’t have a fixed date (like Thanksgiving or Daylights Savings), I made notes that it occurs on certain days (I don’t know why that happens). I now have this spreadsheet that I can refer back to when I make future calendars, making them much quicker to produce for the yearning masses.

If you want to purchase a calendar, you can get them on Lulu.com. All proceeds are currently going to me, but I might switch it to a dog shelter as I had in previous years (I’m just too lazy, and it’s hard to change the revenue settings on my cellphone).

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The Night Before Dog-mas.

Here’s something I wrote for a Holiday card in 2018, Nico’s last Christmas with me. RIP to all the pets who’ve passed on since then.

‘Twas the night before Dogmas, when all through New York
Not a Sebby was barking, not even a bork;
The pizza was placed on the counter with care,
In hopes that St. Nico soon would not jump there;
Pupperinos were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugarplum Mogwais danced in their heads;
And River in her ‘kerchief, and I in my newsboy cap,
Had just came from a walk after River’s long crap,
When out on Fulton there arose such a clatter,
I put down Instagram to see what was the matter.
Away from the apartment I sauntered like molasses,
Did Amazon come, or is Fedex on their asses?
The moon on the street and the unplowed snow,
Made me think, “What the hell, DeBlasio?”
When what to my bespectacled eyes did appear,
But an Altima driven by eight cats in snow gear,
With a furry old doggo dressed red like Magneto,
I knew in a moment she must be St. Nico.
More rabid than Bullet with skateboarders untame,
She howled, and growled, and boofed them by name:
“Now, Butters! Now, Nyan! Now Katsu and Nori!
On, Violette! On, MeToo! On, Portabella and Shiitake!
To the edge of Bedstuy! To Phil’s backyard right now!
Now drive away! Drive away! I need some chow!”
As D’Arcy on a couch as her sight catches a fly,
When they meet a speed bump, the cats’ car mount to the sky;
So up to my apartment the felines they flew
With co-riders Fozzie and Zoey, and St. Nico too—
And then, outside, the sounds of a zoo or a vet
The meowing and barking of each little pet.
As I drew in my fat head, and was turning around,
Down the fire escape St. Nico came with a bound.
She was shedding her fur, from her head to her paw,
And her tongue was all out, slung from her jaw;
A bundle of Bark Boxes she had flung on her back,
And she sniffed like a Brendan, and searched for a snack.
Her blue eye—how it twinkled! Her smile, how merry!
Her tail swung like a typhoon, her nose wet like a berry!
Her peppered long snout was drawn up like a bow,
And the fluff on her chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a Greenie she held tight in her teeth,
And the loose fur, it encircled the air like a wreath;
She had a kind face and wanted a rub on her belly
Scritches so rough, it’d make Diego jelly.
She was happy and loving, a right jolly old woof,
And I LOL’d when I saw her #NicoVids, those movie spoofs!
A wink of her brown eye and a shake of her head
Soon gave me to know she needs to be fed.
She barked not a word, but went straight to her work,
And jumped on the counter, what an inconsiderate jerk!
And eating the pizza, red sauce on her nose,
And pooping a little, up the fire escape she rose;
She jumped in her car, to her team gave a yip,
And drove down Brooklyn like a Lyft deserving no tip.
But I heard her bark, ere she drove out of sight—
“Happy Dogmas to all, and to all a good night!”

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Fort Greene Park’s 22nd Annual Great PUPkin.

The last time I entered the Great PUPkin, a dog costume contest in Fort Greene Park, was when Nico was alive. It was her last year with me (2018), and I dressed her up as that iconic NYC photo of workers eating on a girder during the construction of 30 Rock. She and I managed to be a top ten finalist, and we received a ribbon.

2019 was the year I grieved Nico’s passing, so naturally I did not participate. However, since I adopted Dusty, I figured I might as well enter again.

This year, with all it’s trials and tribulations, I wanted to make a costume that was fun, wearable, and definitely in the zeitgeist of pop culture. I knew RBG or Trump or the elections or COVID-19 were going to be played out, and for my own amusement I chose a topic that I was sure was going to be popular: Popeyes Spicy Chicken Sandwich.

I remember, before the pandemic, I’d step out of my subway station next to the Popeyes. There’d be a long-ass line just to get one, and the restaurant would sell out of the sandwiches fairly quickly. When I eventually ate one myself, I knew the hype surrounding it was real: it’s delicious.

So, lo and behold, Dusty as a Pupeyes Spicy Chicken Sandwich:

Of course, I had to buy and wear a chicken costume.
Dusty was a good sport and didn’t give a fuck. It felt like a sweater to her.
Believe it or not, but she could move freely in this.
Top view. You gotta have puns.

I spent maybe a week constructing the costume: measuring her body, hand-sewing felt pickles, going on Etsy to get fabric that matched the sheen of the buttered buns and spicy mayo, walking to Michael’s to get supplies, hand-painting the wrapper. I even dyed a mustard yellow sherpa blanket to a golden brown (remember, I still don’t have gas, the heating of the dye was mainly done on my grill). A lot of work and thought was put into her costume, and I’m glad it paid off.

Just like her predecessor/older sister Nico, Dusty also became a top ten finalist. I’m so happy that I can proudly display Nico’s 2018 ribbon next to Dusty’s 2020 ribbon; my beloved dog’s last Halloween next my new puppy’s first Halloween.

Another ribbon!

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COVID-19 and Boredom.

Feeling trapped?

Day 66 of self-isolation.

I’ll admit, the past few days have had this weird, somewhat disheartening feeling of stasis. It’s not that I’m feeling depressed, but rather I’m just existing and living each day, going through the motions. However, I don’t feel lost. Unlike some people stuck in quarantine, I know what day it is: “The Masked Singer” and “What We Do in the Shadows” are on Wednesdays (but there are no episodes of “The Simpsons”), “Top Chef” is on Thursdays, “Love It Or List It” tends to run marathons on Saturdays. It’s become a pathetic routine.

Yes, I’m bored as hell — so much so that I’ve been doing work-work on days I’m off the clock, just because I need something to do. Yes, I’m not getting paid or being put back on full-time with the hours I’m putting in, but I’ve run out of projects that I could accomplish with the money that I have. I’ve applied to new jobs just in case work falls through, disastrously (because, admittedly, the scariest thing about this pandemic is the uncertainty of the future). I’m waiting on friends to help me with content for some video ideas, but I’ve learned not to hold my breath. I could cook and bake, but I’m trying to watch what I eat as well as trying to save money during this furlough.

Boredom, I feel, has finally gotten the best of me — and a lot of it stems from a lack of funds. There are so many projects I want to do — shoot film, build something out of wood, finish my garden, bake something new, shoot dog photos — but everything requires money: materials, ingredients, supplies, a dog. I’ve found that I can’t pursue new projects when I have to decide rent and bills are more important than the things that make me happy. With so many survival needs happening at the end of this month (shelter, food, utilities), I’m trying to save every single fucking penny — knowing full well that I don’t have enough to cover everything. I mentioned before that the end of May would be scary, and now it’s the end of May and I feel it. It’s not entirely that financial anxiety, but a feeling of listlessness and un-inspiration.

I’m trying to remedy this by sketching, by rearranging my existing plants, exercising, and by cleaning a whole fucking lot. In between my forced 20-hour work week and while waiting for client approval on work that’s a week earlier than the proposed deadlines, I’ve found myself taking 30 minute to 1 hour naps throughout the day. Being unconscious, I feel, just helps pass the time.

Of course, I feel a sense of loneliness — which I have a love-hate relationship with. I’m enjoying the time to myself, but on the other hand it’d be nice to see somebody. I feel so far-removed, distance-wise, from everybody, and it’d be a pleasure for someone to knock on my door and say hello. Again, this self-isolation wouldn’t be so bad if I had something new to do… and I’d have something new to do if I had a disposable income again.

I’m in no means a religious man, but I’m praying things get back to quasi-normal again sooner than later: to be inspired, to be comfortable financially again, for friends to come over without fear or anxiety. I’m praying that whatever indifference and lethargy that I’m feeling now doesn’t turn into complete dread.

I just need a free, creative thing to do (well, other than writing). Till then, I’ll just keep on smiling and waiting and watching TV.

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Keeping Myself Busy During a Pandemic: Sew What?

Feeling like a farmer, with my Flower Decal-ed Sewing Machine from Walmart, circa 2006.

Day 61 of self-isolation.

One of the positives I can say about these stay-at-home orders is that it allows me to work on stuff I’ve put off and been too lazy to accomplish. For instance, there’s a lot of stuff that I need to sew, alter, and repair.

As a resourceful individual who’s clearly more domesticated than your average man, I decided to use the past few days honing my sewing skills. It was very hot in New York the last couple of days, and I decided to wear some shorts — most of which have been old jeans that I cut. I wore a classic pair of black jean shorts when I went outside yesterday, and when I reached into the pocket, I felt a piece of cloth. At first, I thought it was just a piece of Kleenex I forgot to discard (I know, I’m disgusting), but when I pulled it out it was a swatch of black denim. I realized then that I had intended to use this as a patch, my intent to sew it last summer — and lo and behold, as I glanced down to my crotch, there was a gaping hole in the jean shorts.

Patch Adams.

Last night, I decided to hand sew the patch to cover the hole. Sure, I could have easily sewn the shorts without using the patch (just closing the hole), but I’ve always found that sewn-up tears in pants and denim always reopen. I’m also very uninterested in buying new jean shorts (read: I’m poor). Though there’s a rustic look of frayed denim where the patch is, at least now you can’t see my underwear (or if I’m feeling particularly adventurous, nothing at all).

The only photo I could find of the overalls in 2018, with my beloved Nico blocking the bagginess.

Another sewing project that I put off were these overalls I used in a Halloween costume in 2018. They were originally bought as a matching piece with Nico’s award-winning costume at the Fort Green Halloween Pup Parade. However, I knew I wanted to somehow use this more than that one time. The problem was that the pants were baggy as fuck, as if I was wearing JNCO’s made for the working class. I wanted to style it up a little bit and slim them down, possibly wearing them while working in my garden or even in public.

Now that we’ve all quarantined ourselves, I’ve found the time to adjust the bagginess. Using a pair of my slim-fit Levi’s, I outlined and cut off the inner-sides of the overalls, up to the crotch. I stitched them back up using my trusty sewing machine from 2006, and after wearing the finished alteration, I proceeded to parade around my apartment and backyard. With these new, semi-skinny overalls, I looked like a hipster hillbilly, but I’m okay with that.