I’m typing this from memory though I’ve been composing it all day in my head… so if it winds up out of chronological order, then please bear with me.
Ok, just to start… I hate the Holland Tunnel. I mean I really, really Hate the Holland Tunnel. Isn’t most of the ride from New Jersey trying to figure out where Elizabeth was in all those smoke stacks poking u pall about… and then later trying to figure when we were crossing from New Jersey into New York, but apparently that didn’t actually happen till we went through the Holland Tunnel… according to my mother previous to that we were in Hoboken. I never realized Hoboken was so urban… and if New Yorkers thing Weehawken is the middle of no place they got another thing coming.
If the Avenue Q poster I was seeing all night on bus shelters is to be believed, assuming I’m reading the pictograph correctly, Chelsea has a rather large Gay community. That does explain the rainbow flags dotted about the area… but then Avenue Q is posed to be funny right? I don’t know… the poster has Park Avenue and a lady with a small dog, and then Chelsea shows two dudes with a baby carriage. I wonder if Papa noticed. Probably not… he’s got a big blind spot for that sort of thing. (See yesterday’s entry.) Hell, he managed to miss Ivanova and Talia all three times he watched through Babylon 5. That’s tough… unless you have a deliberate blind spot to that sort of thing, which he does.
So we parked on 7th Avenue outside the Eros Café. (Yeah same Café as the year before last.)They got damn good Bacon, and kickass Omelets so f you’re ever in the city (or if you live there) you should give it a whirl. It’s at 7th Avenue and West 21st Street. We hoed out of the car, and my father locked the keys inside. It’s a damn good thing my mother didn’t listen to him when he told her back n Jersey to leave the second set… well… in Jersey. So she unlocked the car and he got the keys out and we went off around the block to meet Grandma Lucia and Hugo out in front of their building, and then we went back to the café, sat at the same table we sit out every year, since it’s the only table that seats 6, and had some bacon and omelets, caught up with them, and headed out to the car, to go to the South Seaport and tool around some down there.
It was actually a pretty cool place the South Seaport. My father took some embarrassing pictures and made us look like tourists, which he explained s ok at the South Seaport. Apparently it’s only in the streets of Time Square and in the Subway that you have to worry about these things. My mother was worried the entire time we were there that she was gong to loose me and I’d be stuck in the city. In retrospect I should have brought my wallet and cell. I figured it would be a good way not to loose em leaving em in Jersey, but now I think f I had had my wallet I’d have been able to tell her, not to sweat it. I’m 20 years old. I know my way round the subway and I can always take the train back to Jersey from Pen Station and call for a pickup at the train station in the Amboys. Instead just threatened to move to NYC and live there alone for a year if she didn’t ease up some. Truth be told I’m not afraid of the city… and I’m beginning to realize, I don’t hate the city. I’d hate it just as much if we were wandering aimlessly around cow country. It’s the lack of direction… which we didn’t have this year… so I rather enjoyed myself. I just kept thinking, that it would actually be easier to move from a Rural Area to the City than the other way round. Sure it’s claustrophobia inducing sometimes, but… people from the city rely so heavily on public transit, and street lights and diners open at 2am in the morning for a hot pastrami sandwich that they would have difficulty functioning n the rural world. Having to thing every night around 7 or 8 “Now do I have everything I’m going to need tonight?” before the stores close and you can’t get it, or leaving potentially an hour of travel time. People think Queens is far away? They should see how spread out things are Upstate.
So we hung round there for quite some time, and then decided we’d head uptown to 42nd street and catch a movie in the gigantic Cineplex there. On the way out of the seaport area, we went by the Staten Island Ferry (which my father Mistook for Ground Zero) Battery Park, which I always imagined as being inland, but which apparently is on the East River. And then Ground Zero… and I never realized how close to Chelsea that was… when I said that, my father tells me no, it’s not close at all, it’s a whole 3 miles. That goes to show that he was raised in the city. To me, raised in Upstate Cow Country, three miles, isn’t that far. That’s like 5 minutes away… That’s another discussion we had… city folk measure distance in blocks, or miles… but country folk measure distance in units of time… in minutes and hours. City folk do not comprehend time as a measure of distance: In the words of my father, “Diez minutos?!?! Que es ESTO?!?!” (Ten Minutes?!?! What’s THAT?!?!”)
Oddly enough I found myself looking at the city with a different eye this time around… looking for locales and street intersections and things to use in my LnO SVU Fic. My father showed an alleyway that used to be open but is now gated off, over on, if I recall correctly west 22nd street… anyhow he said there was a whole like, area back in there where you could get between the buildings, and I might use for Lilith to hide in. She could get over the fence… I’ve seen it. And there are a lot of places for a street kid to take shelter in some of the narrower roads that we navigated gong to and from the seaport. Oh yeah… the seaport… ok, so after wandering round the mall on Pier 17, and seeing the shops they got there…. Poking into the Sharper Image to see the Humandriod or whatever… and checking out dumb exercise machines, and a Rumba… and a glass circular scale… (“Look! This one’s glass so you can see it pick up the dirt!” “Papa that’s a Scale.” “Now I feel Foolish… lets leave.”) and a store called “Mariposa” (which of course is Spanish for “Butterfly,”) which sold art consisted of Butterflies mounted in Lucite Cases, (all the Butterflies had lived out their life spans according to sighs like… everyplace, which also informed us that artist is a vegetarian,) we left and headed for the Cineplex. Remember the Cineplex?
This resulted in the most unenjoyable part of the day, in which we spent over an hour searching for a parking space, which we never found and subsequently decided that we would be better off giving up and going back to Chelsea and parking there and going to the little theater they had there. Well that would have been all good if we had given up about 15 minutes earlier, as when we arrived the last move to start for two hours had just started, and we would have to wait two hours to see it… so… we left the car where it was, and hoped the subway to the Cineplex. We saw National Treasure there… I tried to be unspiolery, but just in case, Look behind the Cut…