Saw Fiddler on the Roof last night and loved it all over again. Tonight it’s a toss up between Cats and taking a harbor cruise. We went to the Whitney Museum yesterday. Liked some of it but our taste in art runs more to the traditional. Glad we went though. A Vanderbilt started it, which I didn’t know.
I just remembered a fourth time when we bumped into someone we knew here. My silliest New York story happened years ago when Sandy and I were seated at a sidewalk café here on this corner. The tables are gone now but we enjoyed eating there and watching people go by. At our backs was a rather tall apartment building. This one. Halfway through our meal an object was thrown or fell from a window in one of the apartment units above us and hit the umbrella beside us with a startling sound. Luckily that table was empty. The object knocked the umbrella askew and landed with a rubbery thud on the concrete.
When the waitresses realized what it was, they giggled, threw a napkin over it, and rushed off carrying it to the kitchen. Sandy and I looked around at all the other tables and not a single person was paying attention or acting like what we had just witnessed was out of the ordinary. Just another New York moment.
Sunday: tall buildings, long city blocks, crowds of people, constant sirens, world famous stores, Broadway, incredible museums, street vendors and food trucks, subways stations with filth-littered steps and sounds of oncoming trains ricocheting off walls and down tunnels. A rat scurrying along the tracks zipping into a hidden hole just in time.
Yesterday at Goose Lake: quiet street, three crows on neighbors’ driveway and two more in the street, pecking away at walnuts crushed by car tires. (Pretty clever to figure out how to break away that tough outer casing as well as the inner shell.) First of autumn flocks of starlings wheeling around above the trees before deciding by group mentality which direction to take. Caterpillars fallen from tent worm webs crawling up my newly painted white garage doors, seeking safe places to spin their gauzy cocoons.
New York. Goose Lake. New York. Goose Lake. Truth is I choose to live by Goose Lake but I need the sizzling hot sauce of New York now and again.
New York was as New York as ever. We checked into our room at the Marriott at noon on Wednesday and by 2:00 we’d already bought tickets, caught a taxi, and made it to the matinee performance of THE KING AND I at the Lincoln Center, two minutes before curtain. As many times as we’ve seen the play, we were delighted with this latest production. That set the pace for what was to come.
Thursday I had productive visits with several editors and came away, as I always do, with good ideas and updated insights into the current market. That night we saw FUN HOME, a beautifully written and performed drama that keeps you teetering between laughing and swallowing hard.
The Pope was in town, United Nations was in session, enormous numbers of NYC’s 34,500 uniformed policemen plus plainclothesmen and suit after suit of secret service were very much in evidence. Streets were blocked off for blocks. Pedestrians often had to walk far our of their way to reach their destinations. We took the subway more than usual. It was often the only way to get around. Here’s a glimpse of the pope in the middle in the back seat. His cavalcade came by us while we were walking along the side of Central Park.
We strolled through the Sculpture Garden at the MoMA and loved the Frick Museum. What an incredible collection! One of the highlights was riding an elevator up 1,250 feet to the observation decks around the One World Trade Center. Here’s what it looks like from the ground up. And here’s what it looks like from the top of that incredible building. The tall building with the spire is the Empire State Building.
On Saturday came another great experience when we sat in the audience (along with Mary Downing Hahn!) for Sandy Asher’s play, WALKING TOWARD AMERICA, beautifully performed by Annie Meek Montgomery playing all roles in the telling of Ilga Vise’s long, horrific walk from her war-torn Latvia to eventual safety and the life that awaited her in the United States. Naturally all that walking tends to dehydrate you and if there’s one thing NYC does well, it’s cater to the needs of those in such peril. And on that liquid note, I conclude my catch-up report. I’m back!