Archive | City Matters
Spotted this morning in Tompkins Square Park: three (3) men puffing on cigars (are they back? oy vey); one (1) woman tenderly trilling an aria to her poodle as the two trotted along; two (2) drunk homeless dudes telling each other super dirty jokes via Burt and Ernie puppets (a la “Beaver”); and two (2) overly coiffed girls decked out in pink pearly Lycra and pink pearly makeup. “God, I would NEVER live in New York,” sniffed one of them. ” Honey, we would never have you,” I said. “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID,” bellowed one of the Muppeteers. Everyone but the pink girls burst out laughing.The Church of Carrie and Her Cat
Over the last month I’ve done so many readings in my space that the energy has gotten shall-we-say kerfuffly. (Yes, I made up that word; it’s absolutely necessary.) So after finishing this weekend’s readings I got the hell out of dodge. I fetched my groceries, worked out for the first time in a dog’s age, and took advantage of the pretty sunshine by visiting with various friends in neighborhoods all over the city. Basically I did the grown-up lady version of standing outside pals’ houses and screaming, “CAN ANGIE COME OUT AND PLAY, MRS. ANTONELLIS?” which is how we Boston kids used to arrange play dates back in the un-helicoptered 1970s. Continue Reading →
In the Storm She Shone
The night before Tuesday’s blizzard, I emerged from a critics’ screening into midtown Manhattan. The sky was heavy and violet; the city, already abandoned. The only other people on the street were hurrying along with big bags of laundry and groceries–everything they needed to lay in for the storm. But the film I’d just seen had been much better than I’d anticipated, and I felt the happiness that good work, natural or human-made, has inspired in me since I was a small child; it’s hard to be despondent when beauty in all forms gladdens you this way.
In that burst of cheer I decided to walk rather than surrender to the weirdness of east 30s public transportation. I bundled up more seriously—double-wrapped my scarf, donned the velvet gloves my mother had sent for Christmas, and took off, knowing it might the last time in a while I’d walk so easily on NYC sidewalks. The air was so cold I could hear little ice crystals forming on my lungs when I breathed; this felt cleansing rather than unsettling. I walked faster, not to hasten my return home so much as to visit with all of the world at once. Continue Reading →