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Published: August 23rd 2010
Time has passed as it always does, the scene has changed, and I find myself once again in NYC.
This is unmistakable. I am really in NYC and have been for some time. Outside this UWS pad I'm housesitting the rain is in a mad frenzy to get from up there to down here. I think the raindrops are drilling holes in the sidewalks and streets. My flip flops went squish squish along the building corridors and into the hallway. A nice older lady said:
"I thought those were my shoes squishing."
"Everyone's shoes are squishing today" I replied.
We had a giggle.
Ahhh, genuine human contact with strangers. Nothing like it. I got some at Rite Aid as well (or was it Duane Reade?):
"How are you doing today, sir?" said the ambiguously Asiatic man behind the counter. His smile was charming.
"Wet.. but I'll be dry soon," I replied, nudging forward the umbrella I was purchasing on the counter.
We had a laugh. Such a stupid, run of the mill "joke" I'd made.
I overheard another fun/stupid convo at Duane Reade between the other clerk and some girl who was purchasing a gift wrapped object.
"Who's birthday may I ask is it?" said the clerk.
"My best friend's" answered the girl.
"Oh, your BFF?" said the clerk, grinning to use this wry shorthand.
"Yeah," she said.
I smiled behind her back, so happy I was to witness this stupid wonderful exchange.
When I use the word stupid, I'm not standing in judgment. We are all stupid and I mean that in the best sense. We do these little things because, well, we kind of have to because, well, sometimes the weather is just so damn miserable outside...and sometimes it brings you joy because you are wary to be back in this huge huge, impersonal city after walking in Spain, etc etc, and feeling little shocks from the people who throw off cold angry energy like the parking lot attendant in the lot just moments before this who treated me as if I were a turd on the street corner. But then, as if the antidote exists around every corner, there was the lady who greeted me today at the toll booth, the toll booth operator who, when I stuck out my hand to hand her the money (5.50 to enter the city), held perfectly still for a moment and just gazed at me in some kind of stupor.
After a moment, she reanimated and said:
"Your hair, the wind blowing in it, the music....god bless you!"
She was referring to my ratty hair which I earned from the past three nights camping out in the Catskills and Adirondack Mountains. She was referring to the sounds of the Icelandian indy band Sigur Ros on the car CD player. She was referring to the gust of warm city breeze sweeping across the highway and into my hair.
What a moment to have with the toll booth operator!
Welcome to NYC.
I've been back, as I said. After returning from Spain two weeks ago I was slammed in the head by a buttload of tutoring work, organization and planning. I remember the first day I was in my brother's apartment, and, as if I hadn't skipped a beat, I hit the email, the cell phone, the schedule book, all with a frantic energy that startled me. Later my bro's gal Robyn said: "I don't know how you did that...it would have taken me weeks to get back into it." I think her behavior lives in the SANE category.
After the burst of work, the abrupt insane return, a trip to Tampa for workshops, an acting biz workshop, a challenging clown lab in NYC and an absorption of Manhattan metabolism, my body broke down and said: "Whoa Boy" and got sick. A cold for seven days. I healed at my friend Golan's house in Queens. I even cooked him a Camino dinner: Sausage Pasta, except the sausage was sub sub par compared with the Spanish stuff.
And then, I did what I'd promised myself I'd do when I was walking the Camino and nearing the end and feeling NYC and "real life" coming at me. I took some time away from the city, alone, in nature, with the intention of processing the summer trip abroad. Rented a car, drove to the mountains and spent time with me myself and I. It was good. It was what I needed. I'm grateful I could afford the car and the time to go away. I did stuff. Alone. I built a fire. I hiked. I sat near ponds in the wilderness, ponds with names such as Rock Pond, Bear Pond, Mud Pond, Clear Pond. At Clear Pond, as I sat in blessed silence and wrote in my journal, a pride of wild city teens arrived across the pond and exercised their vocal chords back and forth across the pond. I pretended they were wild animals (and I wasn't far off) and noted how much prettier the sounds of birds are when they call to each other. So much more in tune with their surroundings, so much more economical with their hoots and tweets. I also swam, cooked meals on the fire, slept in the tent, played guitar and sang at night, ate chocolate, read, and did alot of thinking. Not by choice of course. The brain just wants to think all the f-in time. It's freaky actually.
Then, this morning, at 4:30 AM, I awoke to the sound of rain splattering on the tent canvas. And it hasn't stopped since. On and off torrential. I had another day and night planned, but I decided to split and sneak into NYC without telling anyone and that is where I am at the moment. In hiding in the city for a night, staying at my friend Monika's apartment on the Upper West Side. Tomorrow I'll make my grand public appearance and nobody will blink because nothing is that grand really.
But my hair is clean now. And Ella Fitzgerald is singing: "Let's do it" Whatever could she be referring to?
DREW
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sil
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great trip, dru!
dont ever let your skin forget that, dru. universe is thoughtful, cloudy, torrential, astronomomic, wavy, dreadful, dreamfull, musical bla bla bla around and inside of us. beautiful trip you had, dear... beijos