I’m home now and still suffering from the cold I’d had pretty much from the time I arrived until I left. I knew it wasn’t Covid but hacking coughing sneezing my way through NYC is not as much fun as you might imagine and I was self conscious. Not that one needs to be. You could be bleeding out on the street there and people would step over you. Husoor tolerated me and TBH that’s all that mattered.
This was the view from our hotel room. I came to New York when I was a junior in high school. My aunt Florence, God rest her soul, was living there in the Gotham hotel on 5th and 55th and my aunt Mary, rest her soul, too, brought my sister Mary K and me to New York during spring break. It was one of the high points of my life. The first view from our hotel room (The Shoreham) down 55th was just about the most thrilling thing I’d ever experienced. There were more Yellow cabs back then, I seem to recall.
55th. Always makes me nostalgic.
These spiky, needle-y, huge high rise buildings, yikes. The thought of living up so high makes me queasy.
Went to the Met. Puts me in mind of several of my friends.
We went to MOMA to see the Ed Ruchsa (pronounced Rew-shay, who knew?) exhibit. Fabulous.
And stopped by to see an old friend. Always a favorite.
Made it to the American Folk Art Museum. Love it so much.
Street art, gotta love it too.
Just when you are overwhelmed by all of the people, all of the time, all over the place no matter where you are, you turn the corner and, wha? It felt like a Twilight Zone episode. This was Union Square station!
I love Balthazar. It’s how I imagined my life would be when I came here as a teenager. Turns out I’m just a tourist taking surreptitious pix of what my life was supposed to be.
I knew I didn’t have Covid. I just had to be sure.