Saturday, April 18, 2015

It takes a village of penguins






It is all coming back to me, or seems to be. The sound of two taxis honking between themselves in motion. In this, I hear the sound of something like my name. The commotion of the city is oddly comforting. I miss being here much more this time than I did on my last visit. I want to move back.

"The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding." - John Updike

I met up with a couple old friends last night. We wandered the East Village, noting how much things have changed, and what remained. It was a mistake to lose my apartment here. Only two good things have come out of the leap I took: the boy and the job. Perhaps that will prove to be enough. Or, maybe another benefit will emerge. The weather is nice in California, and the surrounding land is beautiful. There is that.

The company I work for has recently opened a New York sales office, in the flatiron district. It is something for me to think about.


Earlier yesterday, I went to the Grand Central Oyster Bar, to meet another friend, an expert in municipal bonds. We sat and chatted about what to do with all of my money. He dissuaded me from municipal bonds, explaining that they're not a very sexy investment. I'll have to take his word for it.

Grand Central was impressive, as always. The subway ride up and back from Union Square was familiar, crowded on a Friday, as always. The people did not seem to bother me, as they might when I lived here. Everything is a recurring novelty, for me.

Today, there will be an infant baptism.  Before that, salmon and cream cheese on a bagel.





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