Irene - New York City - LIVE COVERAGE FROM MY BEDROOM

Well, the whole hurricane thing has blown over as it were. I was just on the Skype with a friend in Ireland and she told me my mayor said we were not allowed out until 3pm. I broke the rules and went out earlier than that for a walk.

I have to be honest, I was looking for wreckage. There really wasn't any. I did see a twig had broken off from a tree.

I also saw some busted police tape. No doubt the awful wind or a homeless person seeking shelter.

I walked out to the mighty Hudson River. The water was choppy, but like Vegas wave machine choppy. Not tsunami choppy.

Then I saw parents with their kids playing soccer and people jogging. Something was really wrong. Where is the hurricane? I filled my bathtub with water! I bought extra ice cream!

I must be honest and still give kudos to everyone that told of the complete annihilation that may lay ahead. I think they did a good job and even though it didn't warrant shutting down the subways or Broadway it was a good idea. Much better to react like this than to react like they did with Katrina. So kudos all. And me? Well, I just have some extra bottles of water. No harm. And now foul.

I even met a lovely couple from close to where I lived in LA. She is here because her mum is dying of cancer. I told her about mine and how tough it was but how much she is doing all the right things. Lovely people. I wish her well.

So folks, this about wraps up my Peabody-worthy news coverage of Hurricane Irene Comes to the Big Apple. And the apple didn't fall from the tree, but it was a fun event and thank God really there was minimal damage.

(One tree. Okay, I saw one tree down.)

This just in....3:48 ET and ther wind has really kicked up. I wouldn't be in a skirt out there. (Well today or any day really, but to each his own, but I just mean it is really windy.)

Wisco Girls Take Manhattan

New York City is not for owning, it is for sharing.  When friends visit it is okay to pass on joining them to the see the Statue of Liberty (but only if you have gone in the last 5 years) but to miss out on the joy of a visit and the joy of their joy of being here is a shame.

 

Many friends will say "I am here to see YOU, I do not need to do any touristy stuff."  This I will not allow.  You can see me, but you must see me while we are walking through Central Park or while we are strolling through the Frick or while we are strolling along the Hudson or taking a coffee a Joe.  I insist.  Think "Woody Allen Movie" before they got creepy.




You walk and talk, but New York City must be a backdrop for the conversation.

My friends Lisa and Carri came here to celebrate the "20th Anniversary of their 30th birthday" this week and it was so good to have them.  I was going through "a thing" and they kept me buoyant and laughing and eating good food.





I had never goofily played in front of the jumbo screen in Times Square.  (we are on the bottom left second row)



and we got to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge which is never not a thrill and meander through Central Park. 



We also had one of the small town experiences that I love here:  I wanted to show them my old beloved block on the Upper West Side where I used to live and we crashed into old neighbors and dogs and it was just a delight. 

New York is for lovers and friends and is not to be hogged like Halloween candy when you were a kid.

When It Suits You

The weather outside was amazing. Like no snow or parkas or dogs with booties.  It was over 55! Man alive!

As one would under these conditions I decided to break out my bagpipes.

Being a Manhattan piper without mega-bucks, I have no indoor place to play and so it was to the Hudson River I went. I took the 14 Crosstown bus toward the Westside highway to seek out a wee plot to blow me pipes and get the cobwebs out. 

I noticed the bus was not going to stop where I had "envisioned."  I spoke to the driver.  He was Irish from the Bronx.  We talked pubs and pipes and St. Patrick's Day.   I asked him where the best stop was to get out and he just dropped me off exactly where I wanted. I made my own stop.  Like car service. 

That would never have happened with and Italian or Puerto Rican driver, NOT because they are mean, but just because they are not 'family" in that way.

I notice this a lot. Like when I was booted by security for playing pipes in Times Square illegally.  An Irish cop came to my rescue and bought me water even!  The Irish in this town take care of their own.  As I am sure other groups do as well.

 I am not saying it is right, but it works.

I wished him a Happy St. Patrick's Day and he did me and when he drove off waived farewell like I lived in a small town.

Holiday on the Hudson

Skipper and I walked from our swank West Village digs on our final day of sitter/dog bliss down to the Hudson River Walkway (or whatever it is officially called - always a mystery to me. Readers?). Others were in traffic coming back from East Hampton and Provincetown and we were already at the beach. I tell you these New York folk lie out every chance they get.

In a city swarming and teeming and undulating with millions, it was just peaceful here at water's edge. Granted no one was swimming, but there weren't any dead bodies floating either. (See? I AM always half full!)


And low and behold in this city of a gazillion, I ran into my friend Enrique who was in the shade studying for his green architect's exam. What a perfect spot to stay inspired (and distracted!). I will never get sick of the small town feel I have here. (Unless, of course, I owe you money.)

Enrique, Pat, Skipper

Here Skipper looks like she is just arriving from Eastern Europe to the new World.

The outstretched paw expresses all the emotion of an immigrant's struggle, don't you feel it?