2003-10-21 - 3:18 p.m.
Oh my my my. Our vacation was sorely needed, but it is GOOD to be back!
Especially since everything seemed to go to hell right beforehand.
The van broke down AGAIN; this time the wires connecting the engine to the fuel pump shorted out against the brake cable. My other car was towed for unpaid parking tickets. Getting the tickets paid was no problem; finding the impound lot was hellish, as the guy at the lot gave me the wrong address and bad directions. Bleah. We got the van fixed, and the Chevy out of hock, so we thought we were home free. Not so. As a final insult, as we were driving to the airport, the van started overheating. Looks like the radiator will have to be flushed, and there may be a bad head gasket. Oh well, it's only money. Although getting back all the money I've poured into that farschlugginer minivan would be nice…
Ahem. I'll spare you all the little fiddly details of the vacation, but there were some things that stood out. We stayed with my old college buddy, and somehow managed to cram all four of us into this tiny little studio apartment for a week without too many conflicts. The Professor was her mellow self; after an initial freakout on the 1/9 line to Battery Park, she took to the subways like a native. She loved riding the bus, enjoyed cab rides, and learned to sleep in her stroller so we could be out all day. At night, I'd walk her to sleep in the hallway so as not to keep everyone else up. She expressed wonder and delight at almost everything, flirted with people on the subway, and even went so far as to goose a waiter. I don't think he noticed, but still…
Food? Oh my God, there was food! Crystal clear matzoh ball soup at the Stage Door deli, gourmet groceries at Agata & Valentina, exquisite noodle soup at Soba-Ya, bagels from H&H, Curry Hill, Arturo's, felafel and arepas at a street fair, the dinner special at the Green Kitchen, breakfast bagels from the corner bodega and coffee at Beanocchio's, ginger ice cream at the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory.
Shopping: sticker shock at Bloomingdales and Filene's Basement, resale and secondhand shops in the Village, housewares in the basement of Kam Man Foods, weird spices at Kalustyan's, bizarro videos at Kim's, getting sensory overload at Toys 'R Us in Times Square, finding a copy of Bjork's rare jazz album for ten bucks. trolling the street fair vendors for Christmas gifts.
Sightseeing: psychic freakouts at Ellis Island, the Empire State building at night, watching parades at Rockefeller Center, pictures of the Professor in Strawberry Fields, seeking the elusive mig cruat at the Public Library, playing "spot the murder site" with Caleb Carr's "The Alienist".Standing amazed before the paintings of Monet and Seurat and Picasso. Gazing at the zodiac ceiling in Grand Central Station. Snapping pictures of SoHo storefronts.
Oh so much more…
New York was different this time. Part of it is me; last time I was there I was much younger, and single. Traveling as a married man with a family makes things very distinct. The Professor attracted a lot of attention, most of it friendly (though there was one lady in Bloomie's I wanted to slap). Before, I could pass by almost anonymously. Now the evidence of our presence was much more noticeable. You could see people reacting to us (mainly to her). But after ten days we'd had enough, and we were more than happy to come home. The cats lifted their boycott after a couple of hours, we did some emergency shopping, and we all went to bed early.
J wants to go back soon, this time with her dad and stepmother. This could be fun…
