Halfway

I don’t know why came here tonight,
I got a feeling that something ain’t right,
I’m so scared in case I’ll fall off my chair,
And I’m wondering how I’ll get down the stairs,
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right,
Here I am Stuck in the Middle with You.
—Stealers Wheels

I’m halfway through my time in New York, today being two weeks since I arrived. It has undeniably been an exceptional experience and one of constant activity. I’ve been lucky with amazing weather. Nothing can beat New York in the summer for things to do. I hope I am taking advantage of the right ones. I’m not following a guidebook or anything. I flow like water over rocks, my friends.

Right now though, I’m heading out of New York, across the Hudson, to Hoboken. A friend of Doug’s from Thomson-Reuters is having me over to her apartment for lunch. Her mother is in town from Thailand, and I’m in for a home-cooked Thai vegetarian feast. Isn’t that best reason for going to New Jersey you’ve ever heard? Can’t I get a witness!

Halfway through a trip is a milestone worthy of reflection from whence thou came, whither thou shall go. Reflection is also difficult; I’m much more comfortable with forward motion. But just when I seem beset by loneliness or self-pity, the sizable glove of New York sweeps me up into something wonderful.

For example, Saturday’s African music festival in Prospect Park was another in the Celebrate Brooklyn free concert series. For the first few minutes, I was with Debbie, and then for a little while stood with the young couple I met at Charlie Hunter the previous week. Mostly I was alone, yet the more I danced and listened to King Sunny Ade and his orchestra the better I felt. It would have been nice to have someone with me to share the experience with, but it was damn fine all the same. Late that night, with a vegan Philly hoagie in my belly, I slept very well.

Sunday presented new challenges but they were overcome by concentrating on fixing up Marc’s bicycle including a minor tune and replacing the brakes. I will have to remember to leave him a note; otherwise the first time he stops, he will fly over his bars under the dramatically increased stopping power.

Finally, that evening I attended a roof-deck party at Liz Lemer Day’s apartment in Park Slope. Their deck has an unobstructed view of the Lower Manhattan skyline. With a grilled veggie burger in had, I watched the sun set behind the Statue of Liberty. It was full day but yet I still ventured again into Manhattan to meet Kim for a drink and walk out on the Chelsea Pier. New York may never sleep, but on a Sunday night, in that part of town it does seem a tad sleepy.

Yesterday I did some work before going back into Manhattan for a walking excursion on the Lower East Side and Chinatown with Kim, her mother, and her mother’s New York friend. Our first stop, at my insistence, was Babycakes – a vegan bakery famous for it’s cupcakes. It was two-for-one Monday, so I stepped up and bought four. Turning then around the corner, Kim’s mother stumbled on Moo Shoes – a cruelty-free, vegan shoe store. I was familiar with their online catalog but I did not even know they had a brick-and-mortar. Now, no one I was with was vegan, thus no one could really share in my excitement for the veganness of this entire excursion. Not even the dead animals hanging from the racks in Chinatown could depress me.

Eventually I left the Kleinmans and heading up to Bryant Park. There I met with Michelle Kiefel who is a friend of Todd Munson’s from back in his Lincoln, Nebraska, days. I joined Michelle and her friends on their blanket for an outdoor screening of Harold and Maude. Despite the horrible sound quality, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I’ve seen the move before, and knew what was going on, but I had forgotten how very funny that movie is – every time Harold pulled off one of his “suicides,” the large audience applauded.

Coming home from Rachanee’s, I take the ferry around the tip of Manhattan to Wall Street. It has rained. Outside the windows, skyscrapers throw themselves high into a steely sky from grey water. The boat bounces across the wakes of other ferries which steam in the direction of the Statue of Liberty. Ahead, the Brooklyn Bridge hangs from threads of mist. There is no other view like this on Earth, and right now it is mine alone.