Early days





It's been like the first days of a school year—with clothes that feel starchy and bright, and careful courtesy to and from the teacher. 

 There are no fingerprints on the walls of our new apartment, and we are fastidious about returning our belongings to their places and sponging up spills and fixing small breakages. We wear bright, somewhat artificial smiles to greet our super and doormen and neighbors. We are nice to the max. It feels a little phony, but we want to start off on the right foot. Or the left foot. Or whatever foot everyone else uses. We want to march in sweet synchrony. 

 There are moments of euphoria as Other and I remark to each other on the profound silence, which continues to stun us two months after leaving the cacophany of NoHo. I sometimes wonder if anyone else actually lives here, it's so quiet in the wee hours—no 3 a.m. revelers screeching beneath our window, no drunken cell-phone breakups broadcast into our bedroom, no bass beats booming through the walls from a bar—in fact, no bar for blocks!

 We take dreamy strolls through the long allees of Riverside Park, shaded by a canopy of sycamore and plane trees in early spring bud. I ride my bike along the Hudson, which smells as weirdly fresh as a country pond. We congratulate ourselves on having found safe haven. 

There are no clothing stores on the nearby stretch of Broadway: no Gaps or Lofts or OMGs and certainly nothing higher-end. If you need a pair of underpants in a hurry, you'll have to make do with whatever Duane Reade sells. In fact, there is a curious mix of commercial outlets: an "urgent care" walk-in clinic on nearly every block, many shoe-repair shops but only one shoe store, a whole herd of pet-food suppliers, a couple of little grocery stores, too many hardware stores to count, and banks cheek by jowl. 

 fIt's a relief not to fall into idle window-shopping as I wander: no temptations to resist unless I'm hell-bent on buying a screw driver. 

 It's a little like a sci-fi novel where everyone is a little TOO HAPPY. 



Comments

  1. BarbaraMay 5, 2017 at 9:38 AM

    I only just realized you've started a new blog. Congrats on that and your move. Sounds like a world away. It's a pleasure to read your writing again.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "A"May 25, 2017 at 12:32 PM

    It is for real, this neighborhood (though not everyone is on as quiet a block as yours). Relax, unwind--and a hearty welcome to you. So glad you are here.

    ReplyDelete

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