It’s pouring rain here. I mean – POURING. I was caught out in it, and now the smell of my own scarf (er – the “anaconda”) is a bit nauseating. We’re talking “wet wool”. The new scent brought out by Yankee Candle.<\/p>\n
Anyway, it’s madness on the streets here right now. Last-minute shopping – last-minute racing about – I’m a part of it. I had two more things I needed to buy at the open-air market. (See what I mean? “OPEN-AIR.” Open air + monsoon = soaked anaconda.)<\/p>\n
There are so many people out, so many crowds EVERYWHERE – you cannot walk down the sidewalk without starting, stopping, weaving, halting, adjusting your speed, or downright stopping. I went to Penn Station to get my tickets for tomorrow morning and said a little prayer: “Thank GOD I am not traveling tonight.” There were so many people in that train station that I almost had an anxiety attack trying to take them all in. Also, add to it the general STRESS of the holidays … and you get utter shrieking mania.<\/p>\n
Randomly, here are some of the people I saw and interacted with over the last couple of manic hours:<\/p>\n
— some guy who sold me a silk and velvet scarf, who was very charming, very gregarious, blah blah … told me I looked just like his acting teacher who was named “Sheila” – and then said to me, “Do you know who I am?” Like … I should<\/i> know who he is. Yawn. I hate that kind of shit, even though I’m an actor, too. I said, “Dude, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” But still. I bartered with him for the gorgeous scarf, he gave me a good price, and for that I am grateful.<\/p>\n
— a group of screaming angry Nation of Islam guys, standing where they always stand, at the corner of 34th and 7th – right opposite Macy’s, right by the subway stop. They’re totally annoying and offensive, really homophobic, really racist – and they attract huge curious crowds. There’s always one pissed-off white person who decides to challenge them (I swear to God – ALWAYS) … I’m just guessing but I would bet that the white-challenger of the Nation of Islam guys is probably a tourist, because New Yorkers are so used to these bozos we barely see them anymore. I stroll by them on a daily basis. Thinking my own thoughts, on my way somewhere, yadda yadda, while apocalyptic screams of “AND GOD WILL KILL ALL THE HO-MO-SEXUALS …” ring in my ears. But someone from out of town might be SHOCKED at what these guys are screaming. Even though they’re inflammatory and annoying, I find them entertaining in a weird way. There’s always one guy screaming, you know – gay people are going to hell, and black people are better than white people, and God will punish the white man, and whatever … and then there is his “assistant” who stands there with the Bible. The yelling guy will go on and on and on – and then command the assistant: “READ.” The assistant reads a Bible verse. When he is done, the yelling guy launches into his next diatribe. You know … the Bible is only there to back up their own very narrow beliefs. The Nation of Islam guys are everywhere – it’s not just one group of people – but it’s always the same scenario. My favorite part? The loud command: “READ”. I don’t know why I find that so entertaining, but I do.<\/p>\n
— a grizzled old black man in a wheelchair, calling out, “UMBRELLAS, UMBRELLAS, 2 dollahs, 3 dollahs … UMBRELLAS, UMBRELLAS…” It was a manual wheelchair, very rickety, precarious. The rain poured down around him.<\/p>\n
— a laughing couple, both Chinese, RACING across 14th Street, being pounded by the rain, trying to outrun it. I was across the street, but I could hear their guffaws of laughter, their shrieks. But then a cab careened by, sending up a cascade of water which COMPLETELY drenched them … much worse than the rain ever could … and then, the two of them started laughing even harder<\/i>, they were HOWLING. I kind of loved them both a little bit.<\/p>\n
— I saw a very very serious-faced unattractive woman, browsing at one of the stores in the market. She had an enormous mole sticking out of her forehead, and a choppy haircut. The store had a display of hilarious<\/i> finger puppets\/refrigerator magnets. You could buy a finger puppet of VERDI. You could buy a finger puppet of JOHN LOCKE. heh heh heh Anyway, this woman who looked like she had never smiled in her life, frumpy hair, sad serious eyes, downward-turned mouth, had about 6 of these finger puppets in her hand, waiting in line for the register. I glanced at them, dying to see which ones she had chosen. She had finger puppets of:<\/p>\n
Zora Neale Hurston
\nBeethoven
\nBenjamin Franklin
\nVirginia Woolf
\nDorothy Parker
\nAlbert Einstein<\/p>\n
I love that. I just LOVE THAT. A finger puppet of Zora Neale Hurston? You should have seen it too. It was classic.<\/p>\n
— a little boy hiding under the awning from the rain at the open-air market. He was in a massive parka, so that his arms stuck out to his sides, and he couldn’t move. (I LOVE THAT.) He was about 3. He had little red circles on both cheeks – a blush from the cold. He looked so delicious<\/i>. So innocent. I was hiding under the awning across the way. He kept trying to stick his wee hand out from beneath, so he could feel the rain. Only he had a hard time moving his arms in any way, shape, or form, because of the parka. His mother was behind him, doing frenzied last-minute shopping, getting out the credit card, juggling 5 bags, and umbrellas, and a stroller … but there he was, a gaping cute little face, the rosy dots on the cheeks … trying to feel the rain with his pudgy little hand<\/p>\n
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\nThe hodge-podge of New York. The brief glimpses into other worlds. The side by side jostle of humanity. At times it’s relentless. Other times it’s kind of achingly beautiful, even the ugly parts of it.<\/p>\n
I wish all my readers the happiest and warmest of holidays. Best to you all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s pouring rain here. I mean – POURING. I was caught out in it, and now the smell of my own scarf (er – the “anaconda”) is a bit nauseating. We’re talking “wet wool”. The new scent brought out by … Continue reading