Kinda Got a Feeling, I'm Not in Brooklyn Anymore

It’s been so long since I’ve written I don’t think anybody checks anymore.

My first two weeks of August were spent in Brooklyn. My son, who lives there was on vacation elsewhere, but he allowed me to camp out.

 

I discovered that the secret to surviving 12 days in NYC is to live them as if you live there. Tourists burn themselves out. So… like most working New Yorkers, I went out during the day and stayed home at night. I spent 5 days in NY by myself and then a friend from Charleston joined me for the remaining week. My reputaton as the meteorological kiss of death played itself out once more. I was not settled in Brooklyn for more than a few days when the first tornado touchdown in 113 years struck a Brooklyn neighborhood. Good thing I'd brought my red shoes... the Wicked Witch might have been lurking around any corner or subway stop.

 

We were really attracted to the Brooklyn Heights promenade. What a wonderful gift to the residents of Brooklyn. There’s an incredible view, which I've mentioned before; the Statue of Liberty to the left, the Manhattan skyline directly in front and the Brooklyn Bridge to the right. By the way… I LOVE the Brooklyn Bridge. It is my second most favorite architectural creation (Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, the first). Court Street and Montague Street in Brooklyn became my “hangout.” The promenade is a great place for people to congregate, walk, bring their dogs and children. One day my friend and I walked to DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass) and explored. We found the famous Grimaldi's Pizza house but it was a Saturday so the line to get in was thirty deep. We walked around the corner and went to another pizza place named after the street it's on. First Street Pizza, maybe? We started out at a restaurant I’d frequented before named “Rice” but I had forgotten they only take cash and we had cards (sigh). We walked some more through the Fulton Street Park and ended up with ice cream at the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory.

 

One of my friend’s favorite things was to just sit outside at night in front of the Brooklyn brownstone and watch the foot traffic to the subway station and talk. I enjoyed it too. We drank vodka and told stories of our lives.

 

Another day we walked around Greenwich Village and SoHo and got cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery. There was a line there too! What's THAT about?

 

On Friday we went into Manhattan (one day in Manhattan, one day in Brooklyn was our routine) and it was 55 degrees and drizzling! We couldn't believe it. The day before it had been 85 and the day after as well. We were FREEZING! We shopped on Broadway and stopped into several Starbucks just to warm up a bit.

 

The last day of our stay we walked 5th Avenue. I'd never done that; the Plaza, Empire State Bldg., Central Park. It was a beautiful day. I walked so much during my stay in NY (not to mention the subway stairs) that I LOST three pounds!

 

On the flight home I sat next to an eight-year old girl named Rachel who was traveling alone. Across the aisle, a one and a half-year old baby boy. I would be entertained or entertain whether I wanted to or not. Rachel and I chatted on and off during the flight. Towards the end of our flight she said, “I’m so glad you don’t live in my neighborhood. This boy, Cameron _______ tortures me every day.” I said, “Well you should never let boys torture you.” She said, “I don’t. I have a restraining order out on him so that he can’t come into my yard.” In that moment I felt a little sad for Rachel. Given the short life story she'd shared with me, I knew that no eight year old child uses the words "restraining order" unless they'd had experience with the term. Then she said, “There are only two boys allowed to come into my yard.”

 

And in solidarity with her, I said, “That’s OK. There are only two boys allowed to come into my yard.” The old woman sitting in front of us turned her head, looked between the seats, caught my eye and laughed her head off.

 

All too soon, school has begun. But I’m ready and loving it, as usual.