#Wednesdaywomen Me--South Island, New Zealand

#QuirkyNYC: Free (or incredibly cheap) Whispering Gallery

I love Grand Central Station. When I was a kid, it was filled with homeless people. When my mom was a kid, it was filled with refugees. Now it is filled with commuters and tourists. Who knew that one day it would become a destination!

While there are many secret spots, (though alas the legendary Campbell Apartments cocktail bar closed this past summer), one of my all-time favorites wreaks of spies and hidden assignations. Located in a semi-subterranean spot—very likely the architectural center of the entire building—just outside of the world famous, though boringly named, Oyster Bar Restaurant is the ‘whispering gallery.’ It is the stuff of childhood dreams.

One person slinks to the far corner arch, the other to the one diagonally opposite. Who will be the one to first utter secrets? You furtively turn to face the inside corner of the arch, hands cupped on either side of your mouth sealing the communication channel. Your partner nonchalantly stands sideways at the opposite arch, hand cupping ear, leaning in to hear the private message, whispered softly from such a distance that she couldn’t possibly hear without the aid of some mechanical intervention.

Yet, the breathy giggle confirms that your message has been heard. Your turn to receive secrets through the mystical whispering gallery.

The First Snow Fall

There is nothing like the first serious snow fall in New York City. It’s the quietest—and cleanest—this city ever gets. It’s almost like being in a sensory deprivation tank, relative to the regular New York, that is.

People who know me, know that I despise both winter and cold. I am a three-season kind of person. Yet, my all-time favorite first date was during a snow storm that shut the city down. I was lucky to get back in time, having been in the Caribbean for a conference (ahem).

Yes, I was on a dating site. Yes, I had finally connected with a reasonable man. NOTHING was going to stop me getting back to NYC—except the weather. The night before our first date ever, my return flight was cancelled. I got rebooked again and again and then to a different airport as one flight after another was first delayed then cancelled. I got on the very last flight going to NYC. All I can say about my arrival home is ‘Are you kidding? They should NEVER have let our flight take off!’ I would only say something like this in hindsight.

We agree to meet at noon at one of the main entrances to Central Park. It’s still near white out conditions and I’m almost on top of the guy before I actually see him. See him is a bit of an exaggeration. He is wearing one of those parkas that has a tunnel for a hood. I can see that he has a face, but that’s about it. Somehow, we establish that we are who we say we are and I run into the park with him following. We jump on benches, slide down rocks, make snow angels and have the most wonderful time, all the while yelling very interesting things at each other. It was love at first play.

Are we still together to this day? This is New York, not Hollywood! But damn it was fun. If only it could be like that all winter long.

The stars are out

I was downtown last night, just minding my own business. When I turned the corner, I spotted the tell-tale Haddad's trailer and knew that the stars could not be far behind. That is one thing I love about New York. There are always movie and television crews blocking off sidewalks letting pedestrians know that they are witness to greatness. My favorite Hadded trailer has 'Lucy' and 'Ricky' written on the doors, presumably to protect the identity of the real starts hidden within. Then there is the other door that may as well say riff-raff when really the people inside would rather have their names trumpeted with glory on that door. So what, it's shared by 5 people!

#WednesdayWomen Nenneh--Yekepa, Liberia

#RevolutionaryHeroes #SanctuaryCities

I never noticed this poster, located next to the entrance of the hardware store on my corner. That is until just after the 2016 election. How long had it been there? I was also blissfully ignorant of the fact that New York is a sanctuary city. In fact, I was embarrassingly ignorant of the term Sanctuary City. President-elect Donald Trump changed all of that for me.

I’ve lived in my neighborhood for a very long time—so long that I don’t care to put a number to it. When I first moved here, the corner store sold clothing then it sold falafel then it was a video rental place (that also traded in heroin, oops) then it became the hardware store. In the many years that the hardware store has been there, I can’t tell you how many lightbulbs I’ve purchased there, keys I’ve had made, people I’ve directed to shop there. I also can’t tell you the original country where the proprietor and his employees come from.

Part of the reason is that it is really none of my business. Another part is that it’s not something I actively consider when interacting with my fellow New Yorkers. What does it matter if they’re from Ohio or Ontario, Syracuse or Syria? That’s all changed now. Now I’m embarrassed that I don’t know which country my neighbors hail from. Were they themselves refugees? Do they employee refugees as they resettle into what must be a very foreign, but I’d like to think friendly, new environment? Is that selfish of me—or respectful?

This is what I do know. I went to get a key made (see above) and suddenly a song I love came on. The problem was that since I’m not a millennial (or younger) I had failed miserably in my efforts to identify the artist. When the hum of the key grinder finally subdued, I asked the 20-something, vaguely Middle Eastern-looking kid behind the counter the name of the guy who sang my song. Of course, he knew. He is a young American.

There’s no place like home

That’s true if, like me, you live in New York City! (I know, such a snob.) But already, I’m getting ahead of myself.

You’re probably thinking that since I stopped sharing my adventures--oh too many years ago to really want to count—that there has been a lack of adventure in my life. Au contraire! Although you wouldn’t know it to look at this blog, I’ve been to Uganda, New Zealand, China—several times, Liberia, Egypt. The list goes on and on. Maybe I’ll tell you about it some time. Are you kidding? Of course, I will. Just you wait and see.

I’ve been thinking about picking up where I left off for quite a long time. I meant to do it yesterday—New Year’s Day—but that felt so cliché. Alright, I’m lying already AND you caught me. I had quite a bit of holiday season this year. I needed one more recovery day. Again you catch me! Ok, make that two recovery days.

In the meantime, let me leave you with this image that says the morning after like no other. Happy New Year!