Reporting from NYC. The land of a naked cowboy.—Laurie
There’s a party going on, and it’s right in the middle of Times Square. I couldn’t wait to put my walking shoes on and head for the Pedestrian Mall yesterday. How is this going to work? You can barely get around Manhattan now. I’ve actually started taking the subway again because I can’t afford cabs and a bus route is an all-day commitment. So now our Mayor is going to block off Broadway from 42nd to 47th Streets. And if that’s not inconvenient enough, the same thing is happening down at Herald Square. You couldn’t pay me to put my substantial behind in a cab—can you imagine how frustrated they are going to be?
Calling all tourists. You know who you are. You walk four to six people abroad, and if you’re really from the Midwest, you all hold hands. You saunter along, stop mid-stream and occasionally even walk backwards. You’re constantly looking up and taking pictures. Oh yeah, and you keep our Big Apple city economy running. So we are going to let you live and even stroll leisurely in the middle of Times Square.
And how surprised was I when I found myself actually enjoying this potential fiasco? Tables and chairs were everywhere. I understand some mistook the light-weight aluminum lawn chairs for free souvenirs (who was the genius who thought up that one? This is New York City after all, and if it’s not nailed down, see ya!) so the count will be slightly lacking today. Free hot dog coupons were being handed out, and theater-style chairs were lined up facing a Trinitron that was broadcasting commercials. People were actually watching the commercials but I understand a showing of one of my favorite movies, On The Town, was scheduled for later. Folks swarmed all over the Red Steps and amidst the fun and frivolity was the Naked Cowboy, complete with his tightie whities, straw hat and guitar. ’Nuff said. Mr. Mayor, you may be on to something!
Lost in CT, but she’s not driving.—elizabeth
Alas, I was up in CT at my nephew’s graduation from Yale. The streets surrounding the college made me feel like I was traveling thru Europe, but reality hit when I saw all those crisp white sneakers. Note to graduates: do not take anything that resembles white sneakers overseas. President Obama is getting us back in the good graces of most countries right now. Please don’t mess it up. We’ll come and take your diplomas away.
We sat outside a lot in the hot sun (my part know has a red racing strip running through it) and all the undergraduates were donning funny hats on Sunday—some very clever chapeaus and some of the dull decided that baseball caps would pass for having an imagination. You were mistaken.
I was blown away by what some of these graduates are already doing. It took the cynic out of this person. They are working for the causes that impact the poor, the AIDS patients who go unnoticed and they have traveled and lived among the people they are destined to help. Their families must be proud, but I think the people they are helping are so thankful that they survived long enough to see such devotion to their worthy causes. These kids are doing it and I say, “Get out of their way.” Keep them pure and do not corrupt them. Wall Street—you have been put on notice.
I was thrilled to hear that Hillary Clinton was in the house and receiving an honorary degree. I got to be part of the standing ovation and I was covered with goose bumps that complimented my budding sun burn. Who says SPF 30 can do it all?
One thing older buildings lack is air conditioning. I have spent most of my adult life apologizing to sweaty people. I don’t even really glisten when temperatures rise. I see eggs cooking on the sidewalk and just keep walking. To the cats who are running Yale—I love the fact that the pipe organ is from the last century and that you can cram 1500 people into a small gym, but I don’t do well with people’s features melting in front of me. Including my own.
I want to thank all the people who decided to leave for home later in the day yesterday. I arraigned for a great sunny day on the east coast. Don’t ask who I know. But we made it back in ninety minutes and I told my husband to keep a good thought. I know he didn’t and looked at my crossed eyed a few times, but I think someone was listening to my plea. Now if we could only outlaw white sneakers. Working on it.