About Me

I'm very fond of the absurd and think nobody does the absurd as well as the Almodovars. That segues into magical realism quite nicely. I love reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez telling how reading Kafka changed his life since he didn't know one was allowed to write about things like a man being changed into a giant bug. I love passion and nobody seems to do it better than Neruda - from his erotic poems to those about his passion for Latin America. I like a wide variety of music though certainly not everything. Most of the time I'll listen while I'm writing, cleaning house, reading, or sewing. I prefer to watch movies or TV while I knit or crochet. Maybe the first entry on my bucket list is to get a PhD. I would love to be able to teach contemporary world literature.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Over a Year Ago

Ille Flotant - Bengt, I'm losing my French

Breakfast Central
Bryant Park's Carousel





                                                                                                                                   Bengt

 maybe my favorite of all photos




from Roosevelt Island
 
      It hardly seems possible that it's been over a year since Bengt and Peter, my wonderful friends sent me a bus ticket so I could meet them while they were visiting New York City. I'm a big fan of what might seem like aimless wandering, so the idea of the long bus trip didn't bother me at all. In fact, it was a pleasant thought. I wouldn't have chosen to be in New York City on 11 September, and it worked out that it was a few days after that I got there and met my wonderful friends. I met Bengt in 1972 while he was an exchange student and I was preparing for a year abroad with the same program. We lost touch for way too long. Thanks to the wonders of Facebook (no matter how many silly things Mr. Zuckerberg and Co. do with it, I will be forever in their debt for all the connections and reconnections they've made possible), I was able to track Bengt down. This in itself inspired many happy tears, a pleasant change from the maudlin, missing, won't see him again  tears. I was so excited just by that I would see him again. And I would get to meet Peter who I had only seen briefly via Skype. And, oh gosh, I was going back to New York City for the first time since childhood. I LOVE New York. That Mike couldn't come along and our mobiles didn't seem to connect well were the only down sides.
       And I knew that I love photos, but I'm not at all sure that I knew how much. Don't think I've ever counted how many pictures I took, but I'm sure it's lots. The way there, Bengt and Peter, buildings, food, sidewalks, street signs, flags, Grand Central Station, Roosevelt Island . . . How did anybody survive pre-digital cameras? The idea of being without is almost as bad as the idea of trying to write on a typewriter again. Peter is an enormously talented photographer, and just watching and learning from him was cool. Thanks to him, I aspire to become a Mac cultist. The food was beyond belief. The salads we lingered over at Brasserie Ruhlmann, brunch at Pancake Central where Bengt told me he'd found heaven . . . 
      The weather was perfect. Warm but not at all hot and dry. Sunny. Perfect for pictures for three super tourists. We went as far up the Empire State Building as we could, and it was breathtaking. I guess, Jason, the word geek comes to mind here. I'm just geeky about different things than you are. I'm a city geek. I like subways and crowded streets. Walking through swirls of different languages and music amid masses of concrete and steel and street vendors is what do it best for me. And gosh, can there be anything geekier than being sad that the camera battery dies before you get a picture of the Bleecker Street signpost? Maybe actually hearing Paul and Artie  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q98pbT-ok3s) singing it (well, since they weren't there, I guess the actually isn't accurate. That might have been memory and a slight case of sleep deprivation playing tricks. But it sure seemed as if I were hearing them) just upon sighting it. And I want to die and come back as somebody who will walk through Washington Square at graduation after wandering through the Tisches to get there.
      None of us could figure out why New Yorkers have the reputation of being cold and rude. The ones we came across were polite and nearly friendly. The taboo about looking people in the eye wasn't in play then, and people smiled a lot. I can see where it could be hard to get to know people anyway. Bengt said Americans are super friendly, and Europeans are snooty. I tend to think people are just people (an odd and very jumbled jumble) but he travels a lot more than I do. 
      Bengt, with the weather flipping from warm to cool to coldish almost minute by minute, the beautiful shawls you gave me are getting plenty of use. I wrap one around me and remember and miss you and Peter. Love you lots.
     

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