Elihu tells me he’s never coming here again. I’d worried he wouldn’t get the full vibe of the place, but he got it alright. It’s a bit intense, that’s for sure, and you can’t really understand it til you’re here on the street. I’m at least satisfied that he has a new perspective on what city living really entails. This visit has indeed made an impact on him.
I cannot possibly catch up on all the nuances of our short visit, but I will use a handy list form to mention highlights of our brief 18 hours thus far in New York City.
1) rooftop dinner with old friends
2) breakfast in Little Italy
3) subway to midtown: FAO Schwartz, pigeons in Central Park, Carnegie Deli, where one of the long-standing waitresses there promises to pass my greetings on to Jackie Mason, who I hear, btw, is doing well these days. (He told me drinking lots of water and stretching daily helped him keep his busy schedule. A sage plan for longevity it seems.)
4) I called my father from the Carnegie Deli, and I heard the happiness in his voice to know that we were here. He remembered his old apartment on West 57th and I promised to have a look. (Just maybe not this time. Too much to do as always…)
5) Elihu nearly collapses in the heat and hustle of the city as we wait and wait for a train that never comes. In the end it is a young blind girl who tells us we’re on the wrong platform for the N train. We have a nice chat with her, and she tells Elihu that a cane really comes in handy and that he might want to use one some day. He would never hear that from me, so I was glad to hear her make the recommendation.
6) I pour a bath in a tub as deep as a swimming pool. I’m minutes away from a long, cool soak. Elihu is flying his helicopter and all is well.
I love New York, but it takes a certain oomph to be here. For now I’m all oomphed out.