I <heart> NYC
Well, who doesn't?
My wife and I spent five days in the big apple last week. We hit all the high spots.
The evening of our arrival, a windy Wednesday, we spent at Dangerfield's comedy club, only a couple of blocks from where we were staying. Would you believe the M.C. had never heard of our glorious gubernatorial candidate and fellow Jew Kinky Friedman? This does not bode well for the international Jewish conspiracy we've all been hearing so much about lately.
Thursday was memorable for a quick visit to De La Concha Cigars on 6th Ave a couple of blocks South of Central Park. Equipped with a couple of their own-brand smokes, we strolled through Central Park. We sat on the steps of Bethesda Terrace and consumed a delicious curried egg salad sandwich prepared for us by our host and a pretzel with plenty of mustard, after which my lovely wife enjoyed communion with the Robert Rauschenberg exhibition at the Met. I poked my head around the door and decided I would rather spend the time with the Chinese, Japanese, and medieval art. No great Rauschenberg fan I.
Friday mid-morning I realized that the caffeine-free lifestyle of my hosts was having some fairly serious consequences for my well-being. Luckily, one of the marks of the high level of civilization of this great metropolis is that one one is never more than a few steps from a great cup of 100% Colombian coffee, or caw-fee, as the natives have it. That and a Ritter Sport hazelnut bar fixed me right up. We spent the early part of the afternoon at the Cloisters and then journeyed back downtown by metro for a walk through Washington Square Park and up 5th Ave for dinner at Bonobo's Vegetarian Restaurant. Later we attended a talk at the NYC Shambhala Meditation Center: I forget the topic, if topic in any conventional sense of the word there was.
Saturday we visited the Gugenheim and MOMA, although we did no more than stand in the foyer of the latter, overwhelmed by the crowd, before deciding to leave to find pizza, handcream, and a little r&r before the rigors of the evening: Les Ballet Africains at NYU's Skirball Hall from 8-10, followed by Bill Laswell's METHOD OF DEFIANCE (featuring Dr. Israel and Submerged, Richard Devine, Enduser, DJ Force) at the Knitting Factory.
I think by the time we were done, we'd had our New York experience.
My wife and I spent five days in the big apple last week. We hit all the high spots.
The evening of our arrival, a windy Wednesday, we spent at Dangerfield's comedy club, only a couple of blocks from where we were staying. Would you believe the M.C. had never heard of our glorious gubernatorial candidate and fellow Jew Kinky Friedman? This does not bode well for the international Jewish conspiracy we've all been hearing so much about lately.
Thursday was memorable for a quick visit to De La Concha Cigars on 6th Ave a couple of blocks South of Central Park. Equipped with a couple of their own-brand smokes, we strolled through Central Park. We sat on the steps of Bethesda Terrace and consumed a delicious curried egg salad sandwich prepared for us by our host and a pretzel with plenty of mustard, after which my lovely wife enjoyed communion with the Robert Rauschenberg exhibition at the Met. I poked my head around the door and decided I would rather spend the time with the Chinese, Japanese, and medieval art. No great Rauschenberg fan I.
Friday mid-morning I realized that the caffeine-free lifestyle of my hosts was having some fairly serious consequences for my well-being. Luckily, one of the marks of the high level of civilization of this great metropolis is that one one is never more than a few steps from a great cup of 100% Colombian coffee, or caw-fee, as the natives have it. That and a Ritter Sport hazelnut bar fixed me right up. We spent the early part of the afternoon at the Cloisters and then journeyed back downtown by metro for a walk through Washington Square Park and up 5th Ave for dinner at Bonobo's Vegetarian Restaurant. Later we attended a talk at the NYC Shambhala Meditation Center: I forget the topic, if topic in any conventional sense of the word there was.
Saturday we visited the Gugenheim and MOMA, although we did no more than stand in the foyer of the latter, overwhelmed by the crowd, before deciding to leave to find pizza, handcream, and a little r&r before the rigors of the evening: Les Ballet Africains at NYU's Skirball Hall from 8-10, followed by Bill Laswell's METHOD OF DEFIANCE (featuring Dr. Israel and Submerged, Richard Devine, Enduser, DJ Force) at the Knitting Factory.
I think by the time we were done, we'd had our New York experience.
posted by Nicholas Hunter | 12:01 PM
|
1 comments
