..I went the underground super secret spy tunnel route to the N train under 1251 Avenue of the Americas. When I emerged, it was twilight and Times Square was just starting to glow. For some reason, when it gets cold like it was today, Times Square just starts to feel kind of magical in a way that makes me wish I had a balcony nearby that I could sit and view it from. But I don't, so off to Trader Joe's I went to collect milk and eggs and ingredients for the vegetable soup that we are having tomorrow night. The line was wrapped around the entire interior of that crowded space. Sometimes I liken grocery shopping around here to a meditative yoga practice. One must take a deep breath, clear one's mind of things that are waiting to be done outside of this present environment. Wait patiently for your turn to enter the frozen foods aisle. Wish kindness to all God's creatures who show up to do their day's shopping. The kindly elderly lady who insists on pushing one of those little red carts up and down each lane to support her loaf of bread and bottle of cranberry juice while she wonders at the marvels of frozen tamales and salmon steaks. The NYU student there showing their parents just how well they are able to eat on that $25 a week they have for sustenance. The political analyst that needed a few extra Luna bars and cups of yogurt to get her through the week, chatting animatedly on her cell about the merits of the current democratic front runners (she feels Obama is too standoffish). There are the married couples that tag-team the list, one holds their place in the interminable line while the other gathers the necessary items, bringing them back to home base. Stephen and I take this approach when we go together. Tonight it was just me and I squirmed my way around the store gathering alone, careful not to exceed 12 items as that line was only wrapped around to the bread section and the other stretched beyond the produce. I stood in my spot and thought about my day. I investigated the new product shelves as the line crept towards the registers. I felt entirely at peace, smiling in a daze at the woman who charged over my toe with her cart. I think I was even humming Saint Saens Danse Macabre, my favorite classical piece at this time of year. Maybe that sounds a little spooky but if I was not embarrassed to take a picture in there on days like this.. you would see and understand that you practically have to put yourself in a trance to get in and out of there with your sanity intact. I have mastered this skill and now look on my visits to TJ's as the ultimate exercise in patience, particularly after a long day at work.
I can hear the fog horns from the tug boats and barges blowing out on the water. I am reminded every time I hear that sound, that we live on an island. Surrounded by water on all sides. I sometimes forget just how close we are to that water. I almost always mistake the first tug boat blast of the evening for my cell phone, vibrating somewhere in the house.
Good-night all.
xoxo
Quote of the week:
"Never follow a hippie to a second location."
Jack Donagey - 30 Rock
Song/Video of the week (possibly the year, thanks Skiles.. I have a new obsession)
"Business Time" - Flight of the Concords
(see link at top right of the screen... you know you want to click it..Each version is a masterpiece but I recommend the 2nd box down for beginners)
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