I had such a nice day yesterday. First, I had lunch with my friend Eileen at Asiate, the restaurant way up on the 35th floor of the Mandarin Oriental hotel. What an incredible view on a lovely, cloudless day. Eileen tells the absolute best stories, and we ran out of lunch long before we ran out of conversation. Since it's restaurant week here in Manhattan, we got something of a deal on lunch. ($57 for a one-drink, one-capp, 3-course lunch isn't all that much of a deal, but still good.)
On my way home I remembered that, since I'm in Week One of The Artist's Way in my On The Wing group, I needed to take myself for an "artist's date," so I went from Columbus Circle on 59th Street to Lee's Art Shop on 57th and bought a pack of Souffle 3-D pens that I have been wanting for my art journaling. "We" (my inner artist and I) browsed for a while and had fun looking at all the new things in the paint and paper sections.
Back outside and on my way home, from 57th and going downtown, I heard and then saw a crowd in front of the Letterman studio (which I think is around 53rd). Sensing tourists gone wild, I immediately tried to think of another way home, but unless I wanted to walk several blocks out of my way I was out of luck, since Dave's studio was directly between where I stood and my apartment. So I did the next best thing and made a beeline straight towards (and thus through) the crowd. I noticed cameras on cranes and people leaning out of windows, and as I got closer I saw a band out there, on top of the marquee actually (which seemed a little ridiculous) that sounded a lot like the Beatles. I thought maybe they were auditioning for a movie or something. Every now and then a big cheer went up and, I had to agree, the guy sounded pretty good (if it was just one guy). I'd hire him. I listened for a minute or two and then my phone started ringing and I had to go. I ducked through the crowd, down to 7th Avenue and over in order to make my way home. And didn't think about it again, until last night, when I was watching tv and I noticed Dave Letterman had dedicated last night's show to a single guest: Paul McCartney.
I was 7 years old when the Beatles came to New York. The first movie I saw in a theater was Help. I clearly remember sitting in a movie theater and jumping up and down in the seat because everyone else was. I would have given some part of my still-developing anatomy at that time to catch a glimpse of a Beatle and now, 46 years later, I worked my way around the crowd while he was performing so I could get home.
I've been trying to become a "real" New Yorker - no longer a Jersey Girl. I even bought Frommer's guide to New York so I could "immerse myself" in this town. (Yes Melissa, yes I did.) And so after this episode I had to ask -- am I a real New Yorker yet?
My dear friend Eileen, ever honest, says "Sorry, no. If you were a real New Yorker this would have bored you."
It was a fun day anyway, you know...not withstanding that boring traffic tie-up around the Letterman theater. Maybe a little more of an "artist's date" kind of day than I expected, but fun...