I didn't do the tourist itinerary last time. Didn't do it this time. Just a lot of walking and some old friends.
ON SHOES/I LIKE YOUR BOOTS AND YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN
Beat up white chucks and black socks
New York makes me notice shoes. Shoes & Boots. Big Fat Nikes. Shin-high leather with downward facing cuffs. Suede lace up mens boots; straight from the 50's in tan and light blue. Beat up white chucks and black socks. Lugs with the tongue flopped out. Laces tied and tucked back inside. Jeans rolled up neat.
So while it seems NYC has a surplus of shoes (and shoe repair stores, something I'm not used to seeing) they do not have a surplus of sandals. In fact, they may be one of the harder items to find in New York.
ON THE SANDAL GRIND/SANDAL CAKIN'
I met up with an old friend named Minka who lives in Harlem. He makes movies. We had a coffee up on Amsterdam somewhere, talked about life, creativity, women, and how the we liked how the light changed from the front of the coffee shop to the back.
Riding the train with Minka
Leaving the coffee shop my right sandal blew out. Old faithful green Havaianas decided that was it. So there I was in one good sandal and Wigwam socks. That's right, I wear sandals and socks. You can get away with a lot in New York, you just have to have a sense of conviction. We must have walked 3 or 4 miles. I asked a lady police officer, two women in clothing shops, two different shoe repair shops, couple of street randoms. Finally, a pair of $2.75 blue sandals at the 99c plus store. Rubbed me a nasty blister, now covered with a Spiderman Band-Aid.
Moral of the story: Wear shoes in Harlem.
GREG
Walking out by NYU in the afternoon I decided I wanted a coffee. Surprisingly, I was finding that there weren't as many coffee shops as in San Francisco. I decided to ask a stranger waiting at a crosswalk. Not only did Greg know of a great independent coffee shop but he was going there himself and offered to show me the way. Turns out, as I find happens a lot, I have a lot in common with perfect strangers.
We sat and talked for a few minutes at Third Rail Coffee: A Coffee Place for Cyclists. (http://www.thirdrailcoffee.com/) People had some pretty great shoes there, too. The Baristas were playing Mariah Carey and Ashanti and singing along as I wrote in my notebook.
Greg was serving tables at a place in NYC but was pretty sure he didn't want to be doing that too much longer. He got a degree from a prestigious east coast school in Ethnomusicology. At one point he received a grant from the Smithsonian to conduct some research but ended up more traveling in Spain and Portugal on the money. We talked about that seemingly universal feeling of being in your 20's and figuring out how to be you to your fullest potential. He's planning to take a bike touring trip across India. Best of luck, Greg!
AMERICAN HANDBALL
Being that I was just walking around on my own most of the time I was happy to let anything at
all grab my attention. I watched a group of guys playing handball for a while. Frankly, I wasn't aware this game existed. It looked very much like a grown up version of ball wall from elementary school, with a whole lot more cussin'.Hand Ball has got a big following and its own set of terms and lingo like: bullet, double-down, fly-shots, tree top and whip. I feel I missed the Seinfeld episode that covered all this.
Turns out this game is huge. Supposedly (wiki-supposedly) there are 2052 handball courts in NYC alone. Haven't found your sport yet? Maybe it's Hand Ball.
LES CONTES D'HOFFMANN (Warning, Spoiler!)
On my last night in NYC my friends Jill and Tristan, who attend Columbia, asked if I wanted to go to Tales of Hoffman at the Metropolitan Opera. Naturally, I said yes and we dressed up to go.
Essentially the story went that a poet by the name of Hoffman, who very much liked to drink (and sing about how much he loved to do so) tells three stories of past loves and how each of them absolutely shattered him. Lovely!
The first love, Antonia, turns out to be a robot built by his professor friend. He is unable to see that she is actually a robot because he has been given glasses that make him view her as a real woman. While they are dancing at a ball her robot machinery goes haywire, causing her to spin out of control, knocking the magical glasses off. Hoffman realizes he has been dancing with a robot and begins drinking heavily.
The second love he falls for the busty and talented Antonia. Antonia sings beautifully and LOVES to sing. She loves singing so much, in fact, that Hoffman asks that she never sing again, for he wants all of her love and fears that her love of singing my taint their true and perfect love. She is tricked into singing by a doctor (who may or may not have killed her mother with potions?) and she sings so hard that she dies from singing (she had some sort of condition, my french = not so good) Again, Hoffmann is left with his cleft notes in his hands.
The third love is no love at all! Hoffmann is drunk at a house of ill-repute and decides to
sleep with a courtesan (read: hooker) whose husband is in the general vicinity. I got a little lost here...but essentially an evil looking man tells Giulietta (courtesan) to trick Hoffmann into thinking she is in love with him. She does and steals his reflection (literally steals it, storing it in a mirror). Hoffman kills the guy in a hasty sword battle. But still no love for Hoffmann.The story ends back in the tavern where the story began...and Hoffmann reveals that the these three women are actually three parts, three souls!!!, of one woman, Stella. However, when Stella enters the bar Hoffmann is too drunk to remember her name (although he loves her tenderly!) and she takes off with some evil chuck named Lindorf.
Sound strange? Confusing? Well...it was. But the singing and music was incredible.
Hey Matty Cakes keep these coming. I really enjoy reading them ! I played handball in middle school but I think it was the European version.
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