Spent some time in NYC over Thanksgiving. Took in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, in which my son, as a member of James Madison University’s Marching Royal Dukes, participated. It was cold, but I never seem to sit still for long in New York, so we managed to stay alive, with the help of bourbon-infused coffee and multiple coats.
It’s a great experience, running around that town, particularly during the holidays and particularly with the three people in the world that mean the most to me (you know who you are…). I’m not sure I could ever be in NYC long enough to lose the sense of awe I experience there. I feel small, but a part of a larger whole, a platelet coursing through the cross-street-veins and the avenue-arteries. The approach to the city, driving north on the NJ Turnpike, is deceiving- from the warm seat of my car, I can see, across Jersey City, both ends of that magnificent skyline, betraying the boundaries that seem impossible once you are buried in its core.
And, I must admit that I am THAT guy. You know, the one that stops in the middle of a busy sidewalk and gawks upward at the sky, endlessly pointing his camera to spires and antennae and penthouses, effectively wearing a sign that says in bold type, “I’M NOT FROM HERE. TAKE MY WALLET.” Except, I’m not sure I could help myself if I were from there. Just as I won’t ever stop marveling out the tiny window of an airplane at 35,000 feet, I can’t imagine the incredulity that hits me in NY could ever dissipate.
So, thanks, New York City, for a good time and thanks, native New Yorkers, for not taking my wallet. Hope to see you again soon.
Saxmanphoto: Impressions 