[ Dear Bloggies,
I missed you.
Yes….away for three days, and I missed you.]
New York. So vast; so brief. One has to stop and sit still, for a moment, just to be sure.
Dusk, on Monday; arriving, balanced on top of brand new laced wedges and ready for bed, I fell into the clutches of a solicitous Uber-assistant who, with one simple utterance:
placed strategically just inside the airport exit, wooshed me into a wrong colored car and all the way to my AirB&B door
for a cool 80 bucks.
No. We didn’t make out. I crawled in; he disappeared.
The chauffeur took over.
And, he drove. Fast.
I was too tired to care
* * * * * * *
Twelve hours hence, after meeting cool B&B hosts, Al and Hannah,
and sleeping like a baby on purple sheets,
[it’s true, what they say; solo car horns, yelping hallucinogenics, garbage crew…..all night]
I donned my Macy’s recommended apparel and headed even further uptown. Destination:
The appointed time: High noon.
Striding to the grand entrance, I pulled.
“Push!” smiled Alex.
(I would learn that, above all else, what distinguishes New York City from every other place on Earth are its doors, hinged to open forward.)
The gentleman on the 9th floor was lean, curved, and tall. Calling out my first name in salutation, he greeted me with his lips pointed in a kiss. He was a first generation German,
and he had pianos in his livingroom.
Three of them.
The Bluthner was on its last legs, and the third humble, congested, unliberated.
Two hours later, I was 300 dollars lighter and ready for the company of dear friends.
It’s good to be home, wherever you are.
p.s. Due to extremely high winds at landing, the return flight was delayed three hours. Our pilot navigated the bank in on his first attempt, and the cabin burst into applause. The next afternoon, I signed for a brand new Steinway Model M, in Pittsburgh’s private showroom.
My own baby.
We’ll grow together.
But, I’ll miss you, Chippendale.
Just like I’ll miss NY.