Now

Usually I read about an art exhibit and wish I could get there (say, during the pandemic when we ladies were trying to get to the city for a weekend), but it doesn't work out. One time visiting a relative, I did make to it see the sculptor Alberto Giacometti's work. It was wonderful. Just as wonderful was our trip a few weeks ago to the city to see the Manet/Degas show. 

The planning began in November during dinner after volleyball, and with a deadline of the first week in January (the show was ending), we made our plans. Driving to the city, getting a hotel, going into MOMA that afternoon, with dinner at an Italian place recommended to us by one woman's son before going to see the campy play Titanique, it was a whirlwind Wednesday. 

Thursday we found our own diner for breakfast before ubering to the Metropolitan Museum for a day of art. We had two hours until our time at the exhibit. By two we were coming close to overdosing, but a rest and snack break had us going on for another hour. My goal? To see the exhibit Women Dressing Women. 

With little time and a trip to see Vermeer's paintings, we found the show. A quick and wonderful glance at the dresses and it was time to meet and go. I was lamenting, and continued even while home, that I hadn't had time to really see the dresses and read their descriptions. Ah well. So much art and so little time.

After our only hour of downtime the whole trip, we went again to another recommended restaurant near (the also recommended) Comedy Cellar for an evening of laughs. Our last decision, it was probably one of the best parts of the trip. Five comedians - all good - with one surprise, a famous and hilarious gentleman, Ronny Cheng, doing a bit on MAGAs who are "willing to die for this country."  

First he did a long and detailed sentence summary of our foreign policy for the last hundred years before ending with the idea that they didn't have to die, just do their math homework and read the small print. We loved it. Breakfast at the same diner and home we were bound.

With regular life, work and then leaving for Florida, I never did write on our first but hopefully not last NYC trip. Bummer. And then this past week I saw and read a review on my Women Dressing Women exhibit. Now I had a way back, both to the trip and to correct my mistake. Lucky me.

Four women, three days and two nights made for one wonderful.

And Then

History Repeats Itself

 

Blind Imitation

Here

One window.

Two perspectives.

And There

Well,

Reading New Yorker this morning, I saw that I was of the ruling class. 

I thought I was just distrustful of a new rug with our extremely wary cats and what they might do. 

Who Knew

Ps. Throughout, though, in its oft way, the writing in this piece made me smile while ruefully acknowledging the information being given. Still, I gasped at the end. Really omg, to the first, while then thinking, we can only hope that we replace but still exist.

Another Day

Subbing last week in the high school, like the week before, we read a short story, "In the Hat" by Ellen Conford. The last one had been a sci-fi one, so very relevant today on the idea that one person can't do much (but truly, they can). This week's was a humorous story on getting what one gives. I've liked them both. 

When finished with their review notes of the story, the students had the option of working on the first draft of  their assignment of writing a short story in 100 words or less. Piqued by it (and having done a few in previous years), I decided to take the challenge myself. 

You Make the Call

Islamorada, Year 3, Last Day

On our day of travel, we encountered not one but two surprises. 

The first, on our way to the Miami airport with time to spare, we found Duffy's Tavern, a perfect spot. Dark but friendly with lots of atmosphere, we sat at the bar (able to because they'd asked a regular to move one seat over), had a beer and struck up a conversation with the woman. Friendly, open and willing to engage, it was wonderful - exactly why we go to local spots - to connect with others and feel at home.

Later, with three hours to while away at the Baltimore airport, we searched and found not a posh spot but another friendly watering hole. There, squeezed in between others at the bar and served by a grandmotherly type, we ordered beers (reasonably priced) and again struck up a conversation with a young woman, a biomedical engineer. We connected and talked of our jobs, sports, skiing and snow boarding, and her boyfriend and our kids. Two hours flew by. Leaving, I felt like I'd made a friend, and maybe I had. 

We choose places like these because life for us is more about the people than the food or frills. This morning reading my, you guessed it, New Yorker, the food critic was doing a review of a NY diner. Perfectly attuned to what we seek, I smiled, took a photo and knew that while a travel day, it was just as good as every other day of our trip. 

Making Connections

Ps: At the festival we'd done the same. One couple, after I'd asked about sharing their table (taken), had called us over when there was space. From Maine and now Florida, he was a retired Ranger. We talked of his time in the military: his deployments, her adjustments to living on base, his time as a Ranger instructor, and, now adjustment and wish to find some part-time work. Finally, after having told of our connection to the Army, his admiration of Army helicopter pilots.

At the same table, in the middle of our conversation, another couple sat. He was the leader of the band from the day before. We talked music and Islamorada, family and past lives, and in doing so, found that they too had a connection to Maine. Three couples, enjoying the night, music and people. Friends for the moment, but a good time forever. 

Life After Life

Life's paths

by fate and decisions

make for one, only one,

life

The what-ifs

There's the story

So many moments, 

some inconsequential, some not

made by us, made for us

The butterfly effect

creates the regrets, 

and the reliefs, 

the joy and the pain

Would we want

to know?

The choices we made

the choices we make; 

the choices the gods

made for us 

One life, one path

An Amazing Read

Islamorada, Year 3, Day 3

Morning sun.

Afternoon fun.

           ✔

Islamorada, Year 3, Day 1

People's memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive.                                                                                                                                              ~ Haruki Murakami

By Contrast,

If the last post was on my pessimism, this is my optimism, and all from the same page. 

When we poke fun, change has come, microscopically, not globally, but it has come.

Evolution

Thinking Globally

The article. The title.

The ending. The us in the title? To me, still - even as we've come so far - the us is not me. 

 Too much of life is judged on, still, the white male's culture.

While I am able to applaud the evolution of change, I am still living in an imperfect male world. 

Reacting Personally