Lights define the New York skyline receding behind me, and the western sky has the glow of twilight as my train heads south for Baltimore. It’s that magical time of evening and I’m feeling light after a two-day respite from routine, and happy to be heading home to welcoming arms and a warm bed. I bought a set of ear buds and am listening to Joshua Redman; the current track is a beautiful saxophone version of the early Joni Mitchell folk ballad, “I Had a King.” Soon, I will have a queen, and my heart is anxious for the day.
(These ear buds — either my ears are anatomically incorrect, or I am too stupid to figure out how to use them. I’ve never been able to get them to stay in my ears and play full sound. Better than nothing, though.)
I am finally starting to get comfortable getting around New York. I found my way everywhere without having to backtrack, and rode the subway a couple times a day without getting on the wrong train or off at the wrong stop. I was pretty pleased that I was able to find the station two blocks from my hotel, and that was my jumping-off point. I was a little dismayed though this morning, when I turned the corner from my hotel and found a stop right there, 20 yards from the hotel door. Oh, well. It was only a daytime station anyway.
Sunday afternoon I took the subway to Greenwich Village and wandered all around, ending up in Gramercy Park for dinner at Khyber Pass. The eggplant appetizer was wonderful, the lamb entrée so-so. Wandering back to the 4th Street subway station, I stopped for some good music at Washington Square Park. Almost back to the station I passed the Blue Note and couldn’t resist the temptation to go in and see the Larry Carleton show. I bought a $20 bar seat. He was awesome — guitar, tenor, electronic keyboards, drums, his son on bass, and a guest trombonist from NYC. Cool show.
Monday was a trip to a mansion in Scarsdale. A different world than I’ve seen much of, starting with the iron gates at the driveway. Huge house, incredible furnishings, beautiful finishes, impeccable grounds…multiple millions to build it. 24 hours later, the opposite extreme — way up in the Bronx. When my two compatriots and I got off the subway and asked for directions, a local lady looked at us and offered some help, including the advice, “You shouldn’t be down on the street here the way you look.” Not that we were that dressed up or anything. I guess we just obviously weren’t from the Bronx. We did our photo shoot — the empty lot we were anticipating turned out to be filled with cars and surrounded by a razor-wire topped fence, so not sure how those photos will turn out — then one of our local contacts took us up to the Arthur Avenue Market for lunch. The most amazing Italian deli stand, then out to Little Italy/The Bronx for cappuccino. Everywhere we went we were the odd ones, but we got back without incident.
Last night I saw Spike Lee’s new movie,
Inside Man, at Loew’s Theatre on Times Square (where I saw the first
Star Wars, what? 30 years ago? before it was a phenom). I give it a thumbs up. Music by Terence Blanchard.
A good trip. Lots of walking around. Good things to eat. Time to think and reflect. Not a lot of people interaction. I have a feeling I’ll be back in the next week or two for more meetings. And I’m sure I’ll try to milk it again for more distraction.
