new york — Page 3

Sort of a Relay Race

March 16, 2012 at 3:19 pm by Claudia

No pretty pictures today, I’m afraid. I had my iPhone with me in Manhattan, ready to take some photos of my favorite city. Alas, it was a gray day – foggy and rainy.

I ended up shooting some pictures from inside the bus as we left Manhattan.

That’s the Empire State Building with the top of the building hidden in the fog. Not a good day to be up on the Observation Floor.

From inside the bus, passing another bus.

Ah, the life of a jet setter. It was basically an in and out day. In to Manhattan on the bus, then travel 2 stops on the subway, then walk to my coaching session, coach for an hour and a half, scurry back to the Port Authority Bus Station via the subway, grab some takeout to eat on the bus, then a bus trip of an hour and a half, arrive at local bus station, drive home, pass the car keys on to Don, who was ready to leave for work. Sort of like a relay race.

I’ve fed the dogs, vacuumed the house, and now I’m settling down to read some blogs. Right before I left this morning, I quickly listed another scarf on Etsy and it sold while I was in the city. Looks like more scarf crocheting this evening.

Have a great Friday.

Remembering

September 10, 2011 at 3:02 pm by Claudia

On September 11, 2001, we were living 45 miles north of Manhattan, in a little hamlet less than a mile from the Hudson River. We had just moved from San Diego to New York 2 months earlier. Don was acting in a play in Calgary, Alberta. Like everyone else in the New York area, I was struck by the vivid clear blue sky that morning as I took the dogs outside. I was supposed to go into the city later that day to see the Broadway musical, Urinetown, which was directed by a good friend of mine.

I didn’t know what was beginning to happen until I saw something on my computer about a plane hitting the World Trade Center – at that time the news implied it was a small plane. I quickly turned on the television. With dawning horror, I realized that it was not a small plane and I frantically tried to call Don. Phone service was already erratic in our area but we finally reached each other and proceeded to watch the unfolding events ‘together.’ Don said he’d never felt so far from home.

The planes flew right down the Hudson River, passing by our neighborhood.

As the day went on, I was struck by how eerily quiet it was in our neighborhood. Not a sound. Until I heard a loud drone coming out of the sky, flying right over my head. They were fighter jets. Somehow that sound, those jets, made the whole thing even more real for me.

I didn’t get back to Manhattan for a few weeks. I had to start a teaching job in late September. As I walked through Grand Central Station I saw all the flyers that had been stuck up on walls throughout Manhattan in the days after September 11th. “Lost,” “Please find,” “Missing” – all the faces; young, old, every ethnicity, each of them someone’s loved one. When the flyers were first put up, they were full of hope that that missing loved one would be found. Now they were memorials to all the loss and pain that occurred that horrible day. I, like everyone else around me that day in Grand Central, wept. The magnitude of September 11th was not only in the collapse of the buildings, but in those faces, never to be seen again.

I took these pictures of Ground Zero last March, when I was working in Manhattan.

As we stop to reflect on the tenth anniversary of that horrible day, it is important to remember that we must not ever assume that all people of a certain faith are terrorists and that a few evil men do not represent a whole. If we start thinking that way, we have lost our humanity.

It is also important to remember that this tragedy brought out the best in people. For a while we were one. Now, of course, the government and its citizens have descended again into petty, selfish squabbling. How quickly we forget.

The way to honor those who were lost that day is to love one another, to realize that we are all one, to move beyond the negativity that runs throughout so much of what we see and hear on the news and work toward good. Good for everyone. Compassion for all. Equal rights for all. And I mean all. For if we judge another as ‘less than’, we are, in the end, only judging ourselves.

We cannot go on in the way we’ve been going. We cannot live in fear. We cannot fall prey to the fear mongering that is routinely used as a political tool. We must strive for something better. We owe that to all of those who lost their lives that day.

Adventures in NYC Continued

March 7, 2011 at 1:00 am by Claudia

:: I’m back at Mockingbird Hill Cottage after 8 days in Manhattan. Still sick with a cold – and no, I didn’t get it from walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. The cast has been passing around a cold and I guess it was my turn. Opening Night was wonderful; a happy night for one and all with a fun party afterward at Gallagher’s Steakhouse in Midtown. You know I didn’t have any steak. Just veggies. I spent much of the time during the performance trying not to cough, and when I knew I couldn’t hold back, trying to cough at just the right moment in a scene. Exhausting.

We got a great review, make that a rave review, in the New York Times. Truly, I’ve never read such a glowing review! I’m so happy for everyone, especially my friend and colleague who is the Director. It is his vision that has made this production come to life.

I will be traveling to Chicago for 3 days next week – a very quick trip – to check on the cast and their voices in the much, much bigger space in which they will be performing.

:: On Saturday, I pretty much hung around the hotel as I was feeling rotten and wanted to save up my energy for the evening. On Friday, however, I ran around looking for boots (and found them.) Here are some photos from that day:

It was a bit gloomy that day – this is the original entrance to Macy’s. If you look closely above the arch, you can see R.H. Macy and Co. Macy’s was having a sale and it was a madhouse. I quickly realized that I had to leave the premises before I started screaming. I later found my boots at a shoe store near Grand Central Station.

:: When we lived in our rental cottage, we traveled in and out of Grand Central all the time. Now that we take the bus which arrives at the Port Authority Bus Station, I miss seeing this gorgeous place. Since I wanted to catch the #6 subway train and use the ladies room, Grand Central was just the ticket.

Such a beautiful building! The blue ceiling has the constellations painted on it.

Always busy, always fascinating. A great place to do some people watching. Downstairs there are lots of places to grab a bite to eat. Uh oh….look what I found:

Since I was battling a cold, searching for boots, tired and cranky….well you know what comes next. A little box with the above logo accompanied me back to the hotel.

:: I took the number 6 to the Upper East Side to check out this little shop:

Tender Buttons – a small, narrow charming shop FULL of buttons. Every type you could imagine, including antique buttons worth several hundred dollars. I didn’t even attempt to take photos inside. There was not enough room. Besides, I was intrigued by a couple who arrived in a cab and entered the store right before me. They were obviously wealthy, dressed in expensive clothes. The man had a booming voice and was on a search for buttons – perhaps for a suit? I would imagine it to be a custom-made suit. He spoke loudly – like a man used to giving orders and being listened to. After his wife showed him how to use her iPhone, he made a call to his tailor – asking the tailor the precise measurements needed for said buttons. I was fascinated by them. When I left, the search for just the right buttons was still going on.

:: I went into Borders (one that is not closing) to do a quick check in the magazine aisle.

Well done, Borders.

By the way, the story about Borders and bankruptcy makes me sad for two reasons. Any bookstore struggling and perhaps going under is alarming. Yes, I have a Nook – but to tell the truth – I still much prefer an actual book in my hands.. I always will. The more bookstores that thrive, the better for all of us. Nothing can top browsing in a bookstore; picking up a book, looking at the typeface, seeing it in 3 dimensional form.

The second reason is that I used to go to the very first Borders bookstore ever – in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I went to college in the neighboring town of Ypsilanti and spent hours and hours in Borders. In those days, it was a single independent bookstore. I still remember it vividly. Chains are fine, but I feel that Borders lost a lot when it morphed into a chain of stores. I suppose this is a cautionary tale about the risk of losing the heart and soul of a business in the eagerness to expand.

I’m off to cough and blow my nose.

Sort of a Relay Race

Remembering

Adventures in NYC Continued

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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