Did Beth really touch the side of Paul Simon’s former apartment building?
Did they see Art Garfunkel on Fifth Avenue?
The answers are yes and no.
After the Circle Line, we made our way to the Upper West Side, which is a decidedly different sort of neighborhood than Times Square or Hell’s Kitchen. We saw lots of families, kids, young mothers pushing strollers, and people walking dogs. We ate lunch at a great sidewalk cafe, Isabella’s, that sits across Columbus Avenue from a middle school.
After lunch, we walked back toward Central Park, down West 76th (or 77th) Street. It’s a beautiful, expen$ive residential street lined with trees and row houses with interesting architecture. This was the first time I’d ever spent any time on the Upper West Side, and I enjoyed walking through this neighborhood.
Walking down Central Park West, we passed the building in which Paul Simon once lived. It’s called the San Remo and it’s a very posh building that faces the Park. There were two doormen standing just inside the door, all dressed up in sharp uniforms. Yes, I did actually touch the side of the building. Which is almost as good as an Art Garfunkel sighting. Almost.
My other must-see in this area was the Fifth Avenue Apple store. Of course. My mom actually bought a new case for her iPad there. It was teeming with people and so crowded it was hard to move around. But still, just a slice of Apple goodness.
You can’t really go to New York without at least walking up or down Fifth Avenue. I took this picture near the Apple store (Fifth Avenue between East 58th and 59th), looking downtown, toward the Empire State Building.
By this time our feet were yelling and screaming for us to please stop walking, so we took a break at the beautiful St. Patrick’s Cathedral (between East 50th and 51st Streets). I’m not Catholic, but this place cannot help but inspire awe and reverence. I sat near the front and snapped this picture of the altar. Stunning.
Then my mom, a former Catholic, lit a candle for Jim and his job search, which put a nice-sized lump in my throat. Thanks, Mom, if you read this. That was a moment.
After St. Patrick’s we went back to the hotel to rest our feet (and a glass of wine, of course) before seeing Motown and a late dinner at City Lobster. Any day that ends with a Broadway show, wine and lobster is a good day, right?
What a wonderful thing it is to wake up in New York City.
Our first outing of the day was the Circle Line cruise. Yes, it’s touristy, but neither of us had ever done it, so I think that makes it OK. The boat goes all the way around Manhattan.
We started at Pier 83 at West 42nd Street and 12th Avenue, in Hell’s Kitchen. The neighborhood, formerly a crime-ridden slum, is now a trendy — and expensive area. Ninth Avenue, around 42nd Street, is known for its variety of ethnic food. There will be a return trip to this part of town.
The cruise took about two-and-a-half hours, though you can take a shorter trip. I stood at the bow for the best photo opps, and was hoping the entire time that no one would feel the need to do the Titanic thing. No one did.
One of the first sights we saw was the iconic Brooklyn Bridge. One of these days I want to walk across it and see lower Manhattan from the Brooklyn side.
Brooklyn Bridge
For about 30 minutes, I heard no English. I was surrounded by Spanish, French, German, and what might have been Russian, but I’m not sure. I think it’s apropos that I realized this as we approached Ellis Island, and passed very near the Statue of Liberty. The Statue is closed due to damage from Hurricane Sandy, so we got as close as anyone else could. It was hard to imagine I was really that close to the Statue of Liberty. I took about 50 pictures of it. That was the first time I’ve seen it except from the window of an airplane, and it took my breath away.
It was windy and a little chilly, but so very worth it, as the view of lower Manhattan was nothing short of spectacular; the photos don’t really capture it.
My crappy attempt at a selfie with lower Manhattan in the background
Moving uptown into Harlem, the only thing to see besides a bunch of nearly-identical apartment buildings was these colorful murals. For all I know, these could be gang signs, but I found them interesting.
I checked out the south Bronx, notorious for being a rough and scary place to be. Indeed I do believe I’ve seen about all I need to see of the south Bronx.
The central-northern part of the Bronx looked a little nicer, with some newer-looking residential development and Yankee Stadium. I liked seeing it, though I’ll never be mistaken for a Yankee fan.
I recommend the Circle Line for anyone who wants to get a good overview of Manhattan from the water, or for anyone who likes to take pictures.
After that we looked for a cab to make a quick stop at the hotel before heading out for lunch. There were none to be found, so we took a pedicab, which is a bicycle that a guy with very well-developed calves rides and pulls you behind him in a cart. It was a much better way to see Hell’s Kitchen than in a speeding cab, but when we got out, he told us it would be $36 … each. For 10 blocks. So no more pedicabs. Sadly, both my iPhone and my camera batteries were dead by the end of the cruise, so I have no photos of Hell’s Kitchen.
This is getting long, so I’ll do a separate post on our lunch at a sidewalk cafe on the Upper West Side, and touching the apartment building where Paul Simon used to live.
Yesterday’s flight went smoothly, after the minor glitch with my boarding pass was settled. I don’t love flying one bit, but I survived the flight nicely, thanks to my iPad, New York Times crosswords and my “calm” playlist. And what may have been a tiny glass of wine.
Once we landed it seemed as if it took forever to get out of the airport and to our hotel, which is right near Times Square, at 47th Street and 7th Avenue, an easy walk from the theaters and just a couple of blocks from Fifth Avenue. Here’s the view from our window.
We quickly unpacked and settled in, then hit the streets the way people do in New York: on foot. We grabbed quick sandwiches at a place I’d heard about online call Pret a Manger. They specialize in fresh, handmade food. Everything is made and served on the same day, then the leftovers are donated to charity. I love the philosophy and the sandwiches were delicious. This sign hangs in the dining area:
We walked up Seventh Avenue, over to Sixth, then all the way to Central Park, where we decided to be touristy and do the carriage ride. It’s a great way to see the Park. My heart beat a little faster when we passed the Sheep Meadow, the site of Simon & Garfunkel’s Concert in Central Park in 1981.
Then we saw Richard Belzer, better known as “Detective Munch” from Law & Order SVU. He was walking through the park fast, wearing exercise shoes. Celebrity sighting for day one.
We were starving and exhausted, so we decided to grab a quick bite before heading to see Lion King. The bar at our hotel has great appetizers and a really cool view of Times Square, so we went there before and after the show for appetizers.
Oh, my, Lion King was amazing. The costumes, the sets, the creativity – making people look like animals without being cartoonish is quite the feat. Go see this show. When we walked out of the theater, it looked like it was still daylight. The lights of Times Square are that bright.
One of the things that thrills me about New York is the concentration of talent and the diversity. You don’t see this level of creativity and innovation without different points of view.
Cool sights of the day:
The basically naked woman standing in Times Square with “I <3NY” painted all over her body. And no one freaking out, except maybe the guys appreciating her fine derrière.
The woman about my age with her close-cropped chartreuse-colored hair trimmed to a Mohawk.
My mom getting her picture made with the “Statue of Liberty” in Times Square. See below.
I’m already a day behind, and today was amazing, so stay tuned.
Random thoughts: I still haven’t seen Art Garfunkel and I really might not leave here.
Tomorrow morning I’ll leave for New York City for the first time since 1993. I could not be more excited; it’s one of my favorite places.
My mom is treating me to the trip, since Jim isn’t working now (see this post if you need to catch up).
We’ll see two Broadway shows — Lion King and Motown, and we’re planning a trip to Ground Zero and just chilling in lower Manhattan, which I’m looking forward to seeing more of than I did last time. We’ve got dinner reservations at Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill for Saturday night, but the rest of the time we’ll be on our own, to wander as we please.
We’re staying in Times Square which is anything but quiet, so I’m guessing there will be things to see at all hours. I hope I can sleep.
Honestly, New York is so magic for me, just walking down the street and looking around. It’s always fascinated me and I’ve spent hours on Google Street View walking the streets of Manhattan.
Though I’m excited for whatever we encounter, I have five things I want to do:
See Art Garfunkel on the street. He lives on the Upper East Side and since we’ll be in Central Park anyway, we’ll walk up Fifth Avenue hoping for a sighting.
Visit the Fifth Avenue Apple Store. The one with the glass cube.
Get a photo made in front of the Bleecker Street sign in Greenwich Village. If you don’t know why, you’re not a Simon & Garfunkel fan.
See Ground Zero and the Memorial. Enough said.
Do the Circle Line boat tour around Manhattan. Yes, it’s touristy, but I’ve always wanted to do it and the photos will be awesome.
I’ll blog daily (assuming I have any energy left) and report back on Fifth Avenue, Bleecker Street, Art and the boat.
I just ran across an interesting article on Lifehacker about the creative personality, called The Seven Elements of a Creative Personality. I read everything I can on this topic because it pretty much describes me. Especially this:
You’re creative if:
Your Mind Has an Associative Orientation
This means that you have an active imagination. “You can fluctuate between daydreaming and perceiving reality,” says Martinsen. “You’re playful and have an experimental attitude.” But you are also able to become deeply absorbed in your work. For example, you might be so involved in your work that you forget to eat lunch. Interestingly, the advertising students scored slightly higher with associative orientation than the artists. But both these groups ranked higher than the baseline sample.
This nails me.
Yesterday I had a few minutes to myself and decided to just sit quietly and relax. I set a timer and closed my eyes. The first thing I heard were birds singing outside. The birds reminded me of my daddy, who could whistle like a virtuoso. He sounded just like the birds and if I’d been a bird, he’d have certainly faked me out.
That got me started thinking about duck calls. Remember, I grew up in Arkansas. There are people in my family who are expert duck hunters and can make the duck call sound just like the real thing. The poor ducks get all excited, thinking they are going to see a friend and end up on someone’s dinner table.
So duck calls and bird whistles got me thinking about how easily we’re all deceived. How quickly we hear what we want to hear and chase after it without fully investigating, only to be destroyed in the process.
I think that’s another post for another day; I’m not feeling that deep right now. But it does lend a bit of insight into the workings of the weird creative mind. A mind that goes from birds singing to complex life concepts in five minutes or less.
If you’re not a creative person and have to work and/or live with one, chances are there are times they drive you crazy. Ask my husband. But you probably drive them crazy too.
I’m grateful God didn’t make everyone like me, though the world would surely be fun and colorful. We need analytical minds to keep us from buying a car because it’s pretty and has a sunroof, or to figure out which TV is really the best for the money.
We see the beauty in our differences when we respect and honor them, rather than trying to fit everyone into our mold. You probably have at least one creative person in your life; I have many analytical types in mine. Don’t just tolerate those differences; celebrate and cherish them as we help each other get things done and have fun in the process.
The season could not have come at a better time — especially now, when we’re not going out much anywhere, due to the unemployment thing. One of our simple pleasures is putting our feet up and ending the day with the Cardinals on TV, win or lose.
Last weekend, my sister gave us tickets to see the Redbirds. We’re big fans, as we’ve watched many current Cardinals members play at AutoZone Park. This night was especially exciting, as Cardinal third baseman and 2011 World Series MVP David Freese was playing in Memphis on a rehab assignment.
Cardinal third baseman David Freese on deck
Yeah, these seats are good.
Freese at bat just before whacking an RBI double
So as we’re enjoying the game, I glance over to our right, in the area behind home plate. I notice two young guys with a clipboard, apparently keeping pitching statistics. I recognize one of them as Michael Wacha, top pitching prospect for the Cardinals. This guy will most likely be on the mound at Busch Stadium by the end of the season. I didn’t immediately recognize the other guy, but realized he was Tyler Lyons, also a pitcher.
Wacha (left) and Tyler Lyons signing autographs for us
They were very nice and seemed genuinely happy to be recognized. We chatted with them a bit, and wished Wacha good luck pitching on Sunday.
So, a beautiful night for baseball, a chance to see a Cardinal hit a double and two autographs to add to our collection.
We’re perfectly happy hanging out and eating at home and living a simpler life. But a gift like baseball tickets gave us a tremendous boost; a chance to enjoy a night out and feel normal for just a short while. We looked forward to it all week and relished it all evening.
Do you know someone going through a rough time? Think about a gift of something they really like to do.
My youngest baby is 21 today. It makes me a little misty eyed, I’m not gonna lie.
I tried to resist the motherly instincts last night when she told me she was going out at midnight to buy her first legal drink.
Me: Be careful. Are you taking Ethan (longtime boyfriend) with you? Her: Yep! Me: Well, have fun.
(Ethan is big and strong and not the sort of guy you want to mess with. And very protective.)
See how well that went?
Don’t get me wrong; I love having adult children. I love the adult conversations, and it makes me happy to see the great women they’ve both become. But it’s real, on-paper, legal confirmation that this phase of my life is over.
Which is awful and awesome. It’s the end of being needed in many ways, but it’s better to be wanted anyway.
Parenthood is a long journey, and I’m not sure you ever really reach a destination in the sense that the trip is over. But I’m loving where I am now.
I love the laughter, the fun, and the friendship. The adult relationship that isn’t based on dependence, but on love, commitment and many, many shared memories. The ease of being with people who know you inside and out, have seen you in a swimsuit and without makeup and still love you.
It’s been an incredible journey. The best/worst, most rewarding/hardest most heart-rending/touching journey of all, I think. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve done my best and I have no regrets.
I’ve never made a quilt, but I think parenthood is how I imagine it would be, and someday I will make one. It’s a panoply of squares, each of which represents a smile, a hug or a tear, all joined together into one beautiful piece. If the last 24 years of my life are that quilt, I’m grateful for one so beautiful, that covers me when there is a chill and comforts me when I cry.
Here’s to you, girls, and to the next 24 years together.
I love to watch old sitcoms like The Dick VanDyke Show, Leave it to Beaver, and The Andy Griffith Show. They are relaxing to watch, as the characters’ problems, always wrapped up neatly in half an hour, would earn a #FirstWorldProblems hashtag in today’s world. Everyone is well behaved, no one cusses or drinks too much and Ward wouldn’t think of cheating on June. It’s all so … nice.
Though I enjoy my share of nostalgia, I’m not sure those days were really better, in spite of the Facebook posts I see regularly bemoaning the state of today’s society. Do you notice something about Andy, Barney, Ward, June, Rob and Laura? They are white, affluent, well-educated, clean cut, middle- to upper-middle class people, for whom those days were serene. With their socio-economic status and respectable professions came the perception that they were good people. They represented the propriety of the day and fit the mold.
Three reasons I wouldn’t have wanted to live in that era:
What if you were different? What if you broke the mold? I suspect life wasn’t quite so grand. I believe much of our longing for the way things used to be is a longing for the days when our beliefs and opinions about the way things should be weren’t challenged. Polite people shared the same views and if you didn’t you wouldn’t dare admit it. Ask a non-white person how great those days were. I’ll bet you’ll get a different answer. Racism was accepted and persons of color were second-class citizens. I don’t want to go back to that. Do you?
Marriages were forever. They had to be. Well, most of them. Divorce, whatever the reason, brought shame and social isolation. Women in destructive or abusive marriages had no way out. Assuming anyone would have believed them, they faced the prospect of being social outcasts if they left, not to mention how to provide for children. A 50-year anniversary of misery isn’t a great thing to celebrate. So, yeah, people stayed married, but maybe that wasn’t always a good thing.
I’d be dead. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1998. Had it been 1958, the early diagnosis that saved my life and the treatment that followed wouldn’t have been possible. My two young girls would have grown up without their mother.
People don’t change. The Bible says, ” … There is nothing new under the sun. “(Ecclesiastes 1:9) There has always been rape, murder, incest and every form of awful, creepy behavior. If you don’t believe me, read the Old Testament. You don’t have to read too far into Genesis to see one brother kill another. Child abuse, violence, adultery, lying and deception aren’t new ideas.
The difference today is that we know about it. Media outlets compete for our eyeballs by serving up stories more frightening and sensational than the competition. We long to be Andy and Barney on the front porch strumming the guitar and singing hymns or Laura Petrie making dinner in utopian suburbia. I’m not sure whether we are truly worse, or just better informed.
I’m glad I live in this generation. As pretty as the Cleaver life may look on the outside, I’m grateful that, thanks to God and modern medicine, I’ve lived long enough to enjoy my children as adults. I’m happy my girls are free to follow their dreams and aspirations, wherever they may lead. I love that my friends of every ethnicity enjoy the same rights that I do, and that prejudice against them has fallen far out of fashion. And most of all, I am thankful that I was empowered to leave an abusive first marriage, rather than being trapped by society’s expectations. That freedom gave me the chance to enjoy the blessed life I live today.
Y’all are going to think there is something wrong with me.
So a few caveats are in order before I tell this story:
I’m an intelligent, educated woman, and have, in the past, supported myself quite well.
I am not a backwards ninny who has to ask her husband’s permission to do things.
Jim and I are equal partners and everything is an open book. Passwords, text messages, email and all the analog stuff.
When Jim was RIF’d* a couple of weeks ago, he was handed a large envelope just before he was escorted out of the building. In the envelope (and I’m speculating here) were some papers he had to sign, insurance information, and an outline of the severance package.
Of course, I was eager to know about the severance, and that’s one of the first things I asked him when he got home that day. He told me he hadn’t looked at it, and wasn’t ready to. I respected that and decided I’d let him just do that on his own time.
A couple of days passed, and he hadn’t mentioned the envelope, so I didn’t either. I wanted to know about the severance package, but still wanted to respect his timing. After a few days, when he didn’t bring it up, I started to ask him, then realized something.
It doesn’t matter.
Our security is not in the number on that check. There is nothing in our lives that really matters that can be taken away by anything that’s on — or not on — that check.
Jim knows the number and, more importantly, God knows the number.
In this post, I talked about how I think it’s cool that this happened during Lent. So I decided to give up my need to know about the money for Lent. Not just my need to know, but my need to try to control, to get things done under my own steam. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in la-la-la denial land. We’re not spending a penny on anything other than necessities and I’m working as hard as I can and have several freelance projects lined up in addition to my job. Jim is doing his networking ninja thing that he does ridiculously well.
What I will not do is stress and worry about it.
Because all we can do is all we can do. The rest we cannot control. It is in the hands of the Wise One.
So I still have no idea what the severance package is. I know that I can ask Jim any time and he’ll tell me, but I’m not going to. I’m going to remind myself that:
Who we are, how we are and where our hearts are have nothing to do with dollars.
Though we don’t know how and we don’t know when, God knows every detail of the next opportunity. He’ll tell us when it’s time. So not asking Jim about the check is practice for waiting on God, which my often-impatient self surely needs.
Wherever He takes us, we won’t be alone. If it’s a great new job, He’ll be with us. If it’s … not, He’ll be with us there, too and wherever He leads us, there will be goodness. His goodness, not necessarily human goodness.
Now, that does not mean we can’t use your prayers, and we certainly appreciate a heads-up on any opportunities you may know of, or folks he should talk to.
But if you think we’re smiling more than we should be, it’s not because we’re faking it, or just too dumb to know better.
It’s because God is very, very real and He knows far better.
*Remember, that’s an acronymn for reduction in force, as the kids are calling layoffs these days.
We’re about two weeks into the unemployment and, of course, there are big changes around here. Some good, some not so good. I wrote about it last week.
Bad news first:
We’re in only-spend-money-on-necessities mode. That means no extras; no restaurants, no clothes shopping and no hair appointments. Very first-world-problems. I know. Almost ridiculously so. In fact, I’m a little ashamed.
Good news:
The smell of coffee in the house in the mornings. I love the smell of coffee — just don’t make me drink the stuff. Jim loves coffee and does the whole bean grinding thing and it smells heavenly.
More time together. It’s kind of nice having him around more. We have more time to just sit and talk. He’s available to do things like come with me to hear me speak to a class about my work.
We get to work together. There’s really not much I can do to help him, except use my gifts and abilities to do things that enhance his networking abilities. Which includes helping him write a cover letter, and putting up this website to highlight his experience and qualifications. And I’ve taught him about things like Dropbox and Google Drive, which is kinda fun.
The next opportunity is going to rock. We’ve been through this before and ended up with a much better position with much better pay. We’re confident that this time it’ll work out for the best as well.
We’re in only-spend-money-on-necessities mode. Yeah, that’s also good news. It’s not a negative thing, especially during Lent, to contemplate what we truly need, rather than what we want. I wish I could say that by our own choice, we’ve stepped back from the daily luxuries we enjoy, but we needed some … encouragement.
Notice there’s only really one bit of bad news, among so much good. And that bad news is also good news. The positive outweighs the negative, and when you strip away the extras, what’s left are the things of true value — people, relationships, time together and all that we will learn from this experience.
We really do believe Romans 8:28:
We know that God works all things together for good for the ones who love God, for those who are called according to his purpose.
We believe that means all things; not just the ones we think are good things, but all things.
Earlier this week, I wrote about Jim’s sudden layoff this past Tuesday morning. One of the things that made it difficult was that he and the others were asked to leave the building immediately and make arrangements to pick up personal effects after business hours.
So today was Clean Out the Office Day. It hasn’t been something we’ve looked forward to, but I’ve been hoping it would provide some closure. I offered to go with Jim to get his things, but I wasn’t sure whether he’d like the idea or not – every time we try to clean up/declutter at home, we end up in a fight polite disagreement over what should stay and what should go.
No disagreements this time; it actually wasn’t that unpleasant and almost … fun.
I think we both feel relieved and there is a good sense of closure. And I’ve been reminded of three things:
When you have something difficult to do, it’s great not to have to do it alone. I think my presence made it easier for Jim — I was little or no physical help, but I’m pretty good at throwing things into boxes and I did encourage him to throw away some unnecessary stuff he might have been tempted to bring home.
No matter how bad things are, finding something to laugh about makes it just a little better. We can pretty much always find something funny, even if it’s just making fun of the ugly paneling (see below).
You really cannot move on until you have cleaned up after yourself. Get rid of the junk, keep what will be beneficial in the future. A true fresh start requires a good clean break. Clean out and move on.
Irritated at myself for flooding the bathroom floor, I mopped up the standing water with towels from the hamper and hoped that it wasn’t raining downstairs.
As I ate my oatmeal, checked Twitter, Facebook and Google Plus, and packed my bag for work, I got a phone call that made the bathroom floor irrelevant.
It was Jim. His job had been eliminated. As of … now. Just so you know, official 2013 corporatespeak for this is reduction in force (RIF). It apparently even has its own hashtag. There were about 16 other folks at Jim’s company who met with the same fate.
Nothing like a huge punch in the gut to make you wish for a minor irritation like a wet bathroom floor.
It’s tough when your perspective is adjusted. Even tougher when it happens in an instant. Whiplash.
Time to rethink the word necessary.
We love dinners out and lunch after church. But for now, dinners will be in and Sunday lunches will be hot dogs on the grill or a picnic with homemade sandwiches instead of Central’s BBQ nachos. My gray roots will be covered by me instead of my ridiculously cool and talented master colorist who gives me these highlights. More evenings in, fewer nights out. Alter the jeans I already have rather than buying new ones.
Rethink necessity during Lent? Not a new idea.
This year, I think we’ll observe Lent in a whole new way. Not by giving up chocolate or Facebook, or Muddy’s cupcakes, but by really thinking about living simply and sacrificially. I wish we were disciplined enough that we might live this way on our own, but we’re apparently not. Now that we’ve been somewhat forced into it, I think we’ll embrace the discipline and be thankful for what it teaches us.
So, for those who would ask how we are, I’d say we are good overall. Still reeling a little — shocked, anxious, a little pissed if we’re honest. But beneath it all is peace.
This peace is born not of our strength, but of our faith. Our faith in a God, the evidence of whom is as real in our lives as the problems we face — and infinitely more powerful.
We’ve been here before and God has been faithful. So, even though I wrote these words in 2006, they are still true today just like He is.
That’s the story. The fire is hot, but we’re not alone.
Pray for us, send positive thoughts, let us know of any awesome opportunities. Worry about us? Don’t even think of it.
