Thursday, December 6, 2012

NEW YORK



The last stop on our journey was New York City.  Deb and I have long wanted to see one of the icons of American holidays, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  

Still groggy from too little sleep and jet lagged from the flight from Paris to New York the night before, I hoist a six foot step ladder out of Kate's basement and step out into the street to mingle with the throngs streaming towards Central Park.  Just as I hit the street I hear the roll off.  Drums reverberate up the canyon of brownstones that line 75th Street.  The crowd is backed up half the way from the parade route  but ladder in hand I set up at the rear of the crowd for a birds-eye view of the first balloons as they pass.  Golden stars, twenty feet tall  and tethered by white ropes to marchers twenty feet below  drift into my narrow field of view.  Band music follows the drum roll; the parade is now in full swing.





The morning is brisk but clear and I am bundled up against the cold.  Kate comes out of the apartment bearing a huge mug of hot tea. The rest of the crowd looks up at my lofty perch with envy.  I smile and watch the balloons go by.

Kermit gets lots of cheers

Deb finally shows up so I give her the seat at the top of the ladder and stand on one of the lower rungs which still makes me about eight feet tall. Along with the rest of the crowd we ooh, ah, and cheer the balloons as they pass.  We have a unique perspective as we only see a  small part of the parade as it passes our narrow street.  Some of the balloons are so huge that they span the width of the canyon of buildings.  Just about the time I am getting cold and stiff,  the parade is over.  I fold the ladder and walk the fifty feet back to Kate's door.

Kate, our multi-talented daughter, entertains the crowd with balloon twisting

I think this is Sonic the Hedgehog

Spiderman is always a crowd pleaser

After warming up with more tea, I head over to Fairway Market to pick up a few last minute things for our impending Thanksgiving feast.  I walk up West 75th Street in the bright morning sun.  It is a beautiful late fall day in the city and throngs of people are in the sidewalk cafes enjoying a nice brunch after the parade.   I pass a parking garage where about a hundred parade goers are still waiting for their cars.  I am a little smug reflecting upon my earlier short commute to the parade.  

 I soon arrive at the market and plunge into the chaos that is Fairway Market.  The produce section by the entrance overflows with every kind of produce imaginable.  Aisles are narrow with products stacked as high as a tall man can reach.  There seems to be no coherent organization.  Kosher salt is under the butcher's counter, bread is in three different places, and I am told organic products are all upstairs (but I found some downstairs).

The market is not too crowded which is good because I have only been in it a few times and am not familiar with the layout.  It takes several phone calls back to Kate and several trips back and forth through the narrow aisles to score the dozen or so items I have been tasked with.  By the time I am finished, forty five minutes later, the market is packed.  Fortunately, the most efficient part of this market is the checkout.  Patrons form a single line and a spotter literally pushes you to the next available checker.

Before I know it, I am back on the street and on my way back to Kate's.  When I arrive, we all decide it is such a nice day, we should go for a walk in Central Park.  We stroll into the park and admire the few trees that are still in fall color. A quick walk by the lake, a visit to Strawberry Fields and the John Lennon Memorial and we are on our way back to Kate's.   It seems appropriate that we end our trip as we began it; with a walk in the park.



John Lennon's memorial 


We return home and start on the feast.  Kate scored a pair of organic cage free pheasants from her farmer's market friends along with assorted root vegetables.  We have a green salad, cranberries and stuffing to round out the meal.  Kate, Deb and I pitch in and, within a few hours, we have our feast on the table.

Kate and I play in the kitchen


We start with a bottle of  champagne to whet our appetites.  Since the bird turns out to need a little more time in the oven, we have appetizers and pace our meal out over a few hours. While I wish we could have had dinner with more family and friends, our intimate little dinner is one of the best in memory.



Deb and I are truly thankful for another great adventure that ended with a safe journey home to Mt Shasta.

To space and beyond!

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