Pier 54

Today I took my act on the road.  I brought my bagpipes down to Pier 54 along the Hudson River to play undisturbed.   There was no sun so the open feeling on the river was just great.   A few dogs, joggers and some guys photographing gnarled metal were my companions.

This being New York, I thought that this pier probably has a story.  And it does.

Pier 54 was once the embarkation point for many cruise ships.  That rusted arch you see in the photo was at one time the entrance to a building that housed glamourous passengers awaiting to go glamourous places.

In fact it was the Cunard-White Star pier and this is where the Lusitania set sail on her maiden voyage.

(You can see where the arch was part of a building with the Lusitania at its side)

It was also home to Wigstock.

Time passes, things change, people are forgotten, but you will always find a bagpiper in New York City looking for a place to practice. 

Zumba - the NEW Entenmann's Chocolate Fudge Cake

I have to write about Zumba again.  Just cause I gotta.

Is Zumba here to stay or just a craze/fad?  Like aerobics with legwarmers.

Is it the new Capoeira?

I don't know and I don't care.  You will hear about it in your neighborhood is all I know.  It is a craze I guess, but like The Beatles or like the Bay City Rollers?

Too soon to tell.

I just know I love it and I am hooked and no matter how the day goes when I am in there battling it out on my haunches or high up in the air, I have no troubles.

Algonquin - How You Adore Me

A cozy Tuesday night in the Algonquin Hotel's Oak Room Supper Club to hear KT Sullivan perform her magic.

Ellie took me for dinner and a show and the minute I hit the brass handle of the hotel's entrance, I was entranced back in time.  The ghosts of this place are huge. --Round Table, how we adore your stinging wit and dry martinis.... Or your dry wit and stinging martinis?

Ahhh, dinner AND a show. Like they used to do all over this city back in the good old days before computers and penicillin.

Ellie knows KT and when she introduced me afterward, the chanteuse said, "Ah that handsome Irish face. I enjoyed singing to it tonight."

Give me one of them dry martinis so I can do a spit take!  I don't care if she was lying through her chiffon, I will take a line like that from a dame like her any old day.

I think the problem with today is more people don't say such shockingly wonderful lines to me more often.

On the Fence

Another gorgeous day in Gotham.  People are feeling all Spring-like. I see guys in shorts.  I feel like a pariah, but I have been wanting another really good snow storm.  If i don't get one its another year.    But with weather like this I feel on the fence.

Not that is matters what I or anyone else thinks because we do not control the weather, but what to do? 

I have decided to accept what we are given.  

Happy Birthday, S, BTW!  New York honored you with a lovely, lovely day.

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.

Farmer's Market - Union Square.

Though I don't go as often as I did in Los Angeles, I feel like I don't really live in a city unless I go to a Farmer's Market.  It is a touchstone for me to the "I live here" thing that I crave.  It was so nice to be here this morning and looking at people and vendors and produce that is straight from the local farms.  I guess it is the pure local seasonal bounty that puts me (gratefully) in my place.  It is a sense of place and a reminder that markets like these with people and their baskets have been going on since almost the dawn on man.  I appreciate that.

The Rises Over Trader Joes - 14th Street in Manhattan

Sean and I went to Trader Joes for 8am this morning to beat the crowds.  There were like 50 people in line outside like a Mervyn's Semi-Annual Sale.  It was shocking.  But we had our list, we had our recyclable Trader Joe's bags. We were ready.

Sean gave a quick chalk talk. Stuff like "Go to the interior ailes first. Everyone heads for the produce."  And "Wait to do your dairy and meats as you pass by them while standing with your cart in line anyway. Saves time."  Excellent advice.

We got out of there in just over an hour. 

In New York you tend to put up with much, much more.  And you know there is a reason why until there isn't one. And when that happens you should move.

I ain't ready.