dietsch ::

Friday night, lower Manhattan

Friday night, lower Manhattan. I'm in from Brooklyn on the F train, stomping up to Ace, a dive bar in the East Village, to meet friends for drinks. Ace is on Fifth between Avenues A and B and I'm crossing Houston, heading north on Avenue A. I notice a sharp-looking young lady well in front of me. About 5'8", thin, wearing a striped miniskirt, knee-high socks, and her hair pulled back into two little ponytails on either side of her head. In other words, that schoolgirl look that's so played and yet so capable of turning me to mush. Unable to resist stalker urges, I quicken my pace to catch up with her. Just past Houston, and not paying close enough attention to my surroundings, I'm startled by about six young people, running full throttle in the other direction. One of them nearly slams me at full speed, but I sidestep just in time. I wonder what they're running from but I don't really pay them much attention. I notice, though, the woman I'm following is standing there, mouth wide open, watching them tear by. I start walking again and almost catch up to her when she starts moving quickly again up Ave. A. At the next corner, two men are arguing loudly, very loudly. A small crowd gathers at a distance, I think hoping to see blood splash and spray. One man's doing most of the screaming. Nothing coherent--just a lot of "Fuck you motherfucker and fuck your motherfucking motherfucker too." The other man shouts back more of the same. I notice he has a small, yappy dog on a leash, barking at the first man. Now of course this all makes me curious, but I don't need to get involved. What I want instead is a bar and a pint glass and my friends around me. So I start to morph into the thousand-yard stare, the one where you're vigilant of your surroundings but pretending not to be. Don't make eye contact, especially not with the nutters, and roll on, roll on, roll on, roll on. Right then, though, I notice what the girl I've been following is now doing. She's approaching the nutters, arms held out in front of her, and she's trying to step in between them. Just as I'm processing that bit of lunacy, I see the loudest of screamers rear back with his right foot, and plant a firm kick into the torso of the barking dog, who yelps loudly, flies about a foot into the air, and lands again with a whine. What was chaotic has now become a maelstrom. The second guy is screaming now more loudly than before, the screamer guy who just kicked the dog is about ready to rain blows down on a human, and the girl I've stalked is now even more determined to wade into the fray. I hear her say, "Stop it! Stop it now! How can you kick a puppy? Stop it! Don't do this!" One guy starts shouting at her to fuck off out of their business, but she stays in the thick anyway. I have no idea what to expect now. The girl is trying to get the guys to back off each other, but she's the only bystander who's involved. The dog is whimpering, the guys screaming, and other passersby agape. Convinced that the girl risks a face-pulping of her own, I think about whether I'd be willing to wade in and yank her out if either guy took a swing at her. The fight moves off down the street, away from me. The girl sort of trails behind, and I figure any Jane who'd follow these idiots doesn't need me risking my skin for her. I continue up Ave. A toward Ace. A block up, at the next corner, is a Key Foods--a supermarket--and in front I see two guys talking. One of them says, "Yeah, they got her wallet, her keys, her cash, all her credit cards..." He continues talking but my eyes are drawn to a woman behind him, crying and standing alone. The pack of young nutters tearing down Avenue A near Houston now makes sense to me. I watch as another woman comes out of the Key Foods and puts an arm around the crying woman and I step aside to make way for the police. I keep going, a little jostled by all this, and a few minutes later arrive at Ace with a story to tell.

Tortellini

I believe I've mentioned how much I love this city; here's another reason why:

Tonight, I was hungry for tortellini with a nice red sauce. So just before 7:30, I set out to buy some tortellini and some sauce. I walked down the stairs of my building, turned right at the entry way, and walked up 7th Ave., about a block, to Fratelli Ravioli, a shop specializing in Italian foods. I bought some spinach tortellini, a tub of frozen sauce, a sphere of yummy fresh mozzerella, and a jar of Nutella. (Nutella might not seem Italian, but apparently it is.)

After making those purchases, I walked another block and stopped in at a store specializing in wine and spirits. A lovely young woman was conducing a wine tasting, so I sampled her offerings and selected an Argentinian red to accompany my pasta. I then walked home, arriving back at the apartment a little after 7:45.

So. In just under twenty minutes, I bought all the makings for a delicious dinner and I drank wine from the hands of a hot blonde.

I love this place.

Starbucks

I'm not sure how the Park Slope Starbucks became the hangout of choice for latch-key, preteen fashionistas. This afternoon, I was working in Starbucks, editing some cookbook chapters. Shortly after three, the place was stinking with fifth graders whose back-to-school wardrobes cost more than I make in a month. They chattered and shrieked and laughed and gossiped as I packed up my laptop and went home.

Stats

Here's an interesting set of statistics:

• New York City population: 8,008,278
• State of Indiana population: 6,114,745

Brooklyn alone contains 2.3 million people, making it the largest New York borough. Were Brooklyn to secede from the City of New York, it would become the fourth largest U.S. city, after the remainder of New York, L.A., and Chicago. With a population of well over two million, Brooklyn has more people than does Nebraska, both Dakotas combined, or Maine. This place is big.

Editing and ferrying

I've fallen behind on some of my projects over the last week, so I spent most of yesterday afternoon in the NYPL's reading room trying to get caught up. I'll have to work most of this afternoon as well. But when I left the library, feeling a little stir crazy, I had to decide what to do with my evening. I'm still in the operative mode of "cheap," which limits my options a little. Luckily, though, one of New York's most enjoyable attractions is very cheap--free, in fact. Josh urged me earlier this week to get aboard the Staten Island Ferry while the weather was still nice. Because yesterday was mild, sunny, and cloudless, it seemed like the perfect day for it. The ferry ride across to Staten Island takes about 25 minutes. Riding it round-trip as I did (I didn't exit the ferry) will take an hour. After boarding the ferry, I made my way to the upper deck for a better view. An outside walkway allows you to look out over the water on either side of the boat. I looked out over the Brooklyn side for a while, finding familiar landmarks for orientation and staring off at Governor's Island, and then walked over to the other side. Let's Go New York claims that the ferry ride provides the best available view of the Statue of Liberty, and the book's probably right. Although many points in Manhattan and Brooklyn have provided nice views of Liberty, obviously none allow her to loom this large. I was happy the boat wasn't full. Finding a vantage was easy, no matter where I wanted to be. I stood watching Lower Manhattan recede from view as we passed Ellis Island, Liberty, and the New Jersey shore. I then walked over to the Brooklyn side, to get a view of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge and the Brooklyn skyline. The breeze on that side of the boat was much stronger, so I closed my eyes to feel the air snap against my skin, to listen to the engines gently groan, and to smell the fishy salt of the bay water. When I opened my eyes again, I saw seagulls floating alongside us, wings spread wide to catch drifts off the boat. During the ferry ride, I felt a new dream beginning to take seed--to travel by ship across the Atlantic to Europe. Ship travel is probably some years hence, for I think the only companies offering such European travel packages are luxury cruise liners, which means the tall dollar, but that just means being diligent with my debts and getting money saved up.

I promised to tell y'all

I promised to tell y'all about Friday. Here's Friday:

My vegetarian, fiddle-playing, hat-knitting, uber-styling, Unix-dorking, zine-writing, subway-busking, bicycle-riding friend Elizabeth met me for lunch in the East Village, at a vegetarian restaurant of her choosing. Kate's Joint really is a joint. I mean, if you imagine what a restaurant would look like that calls itself a "joint," that's this place. The people passing by, with their piercings, spiked or mohawked hair, tattoos, and eclectic choices in clothing were fun to watch. The food was yummy.

We talked for a couple hours, and then she went off to knit another hat, while I made my uptown to meet Amy at the Hayden Planetarium. Amy, visiting from Minneapolis, is a much bigger space geek than I am--she majored in space science in college. She explained, patiently, the things I didn't understand as we toured. What a great place.

The show we saw in the Planetarium was lovely--I literally gasped when the star field filled the dome--but a little light on hard science for my tastes. Well, it's aimed at a general audience and considering it was written by Carl Sagan's collaborators on Cosmos, the science that was there was impeccable. But it's got me hungering for more, and fortunately, the Hayden offers lectures and courses. Introduction to Space Science looks especially nice.

After the Hayden, Amy and I wandered down to Midtown and the Times Square area, which of course was swimming in tourists. We called Josh, my roommate, and had him pick a dinner place. He met us at a charming, well-run Italian restaurant in the East Village. Yummy, yummy food.

After, we dragged Amy out to Ace for a drink-up. Quite a few people turned out, including Famous Comic Book Writer Guy, who seemed nice and funny, but a little geeky. I guess we're all a little geeky, but he was a little geekier. But that's okay. It's weird recognizing someone based on publicity stills...

Right. Drinkup. Not much to say. We drank and we drank. Then, we drank more. Following that, in an amazing and unexpected change of plans, we drank and drank and drank. Then I went home and slept.

That was Friday.

The Blind Boys of Alabama

The Blind Boys of Alabama have a new disc out, Higher Ground. The Blind Boys are a gospel/blues band that's been around since 1939, and amazingly, three original members still record with them. The new record covers Prince, Funkadelic, Jimmy Cliff, Stevie Wonder ("Higher Ground," duh), and Curtis Mayfield. Clarence Fountain, one of the three remaining founders, is on NPR's Weekend Edition right now discussing the record, and the song snippets are beautiful, especially their cover of Mayfield's "People Get Ready." (Click out to the CD Now page, and you can hear song snippets of every track.)

This is beautiful music. I might have to pop out later today and pick up a copy.