In Happier Times
I used to go to NYC a lot. The City makes me happy all the time I am there. My heart just pounds to the beat of the subways underground as I walk on the grates that cover them. All the time I am there, I admire the architecture: a window, gargoyle, duck pond, or just a doorway. I think the architecture, from the largest building, to the tiniest flourishes, keeps visual time for the rest of the world, since it serves as backdrop for so much of the popular culture. So many of the shows seen on television and the movies are set in NYC. Why does my heart pound in the city? Why are the tourists so amazed by it? By its beauty of course, but also because the city itself is a star. It is the star of stage and screen, and we all know it from the shows.
While I was doing my dissertation, Margie took me all over the city, made sure I got all the right pictures to capture “New York City-ness” to write about. This picture above was the quintessential Seinfeld place, the diner exterior shot. (I was writing about the sense of place in Seinfeld.) These windows are recognizable by hundreds of millions of people internationally. What better windows to use to enter the Weekly Blog Photo Challenge (a good way to start the first week of a blog, n’est-ce pas?).
Margie and I talked about my moving to New York, where she lives. It seemed like such a no-brainer. Why not move to a place that makes you so happy?
When walking became so difficult and my fatigue became overwhelming, it was hard to explain, but even to travel to New York for an overnight visit began to look more like Mt. Everest or Kilimanjaro, beautiful to admire from a distance, but absurd to climb. I am not giving up on it, though.
Greg (my brother) and I were looking at mobility scooters last night by email. He suggests I get a megaphone so that I can yell at people to get the hell out of my way. I’m starting not to think this is such a bad idea. Sharan suggests that I get two so that I could have a motorcade. Even better! I can picture myself in some sort of diva wear with a Swarovski crystal encrusted scooter, with those little handlebars with streamers. Perhaps a boa (although I’m not fond of the feathers). A mental picture has formed, I hope, one that develops an image of pure fabulousness, like none you have ever known on a scooter. That’s what I will do. A window from my rigor against doing this, to the crystal encrusted fabulousness. We can have all kinds of windows.
New York, at least a visit, could be in my future.
Well, hell, at least a long walk around a museum could be. Do you have any idea how much fun that sounds like?
372 days…tick..tick…tick…. (It is still, always hard to overlook that).