Three Years Ago Today...
I was thinking "this is the best trip I've had to
NYC in years!"
My mother grew up in New York; my grandma lived
in the same house in Forest Hills since the
40's.
So I've been making trips to NYC
ever since I can remember.
And then a
year after I graduated from college, I moved there...living first with my
grandma, then with a boyfriend who joined me from California, always in
Queens.
Grandma was pretty bummed when
I moved back to California 4 years later, so I always knew I'd be going back to
visit pretty often. In just the year or so following my departure my
grandmother's 12-year companion died, and her severe rheumatoid arthritis
conquered her, putting her in bed for what turned out to be the last 10 years of
her life! Can you imagine?
The first
few years when I went back East, Grandma could handle me spending about 1/2 the
week with her out in Queens and 1/2 the week in the City with my friends, going
out and seeing theatre and the
like.
But as the years wore on, and as
her mortality must have been more obvious to us both, and as more of her friends
moved to Florida or even died...it was clear she cherished every second with any
of her family, and that stealing away to the City was stealing time from her
which could be the last time.
I still
went to NYC every year, sometimes more than once, but now I day-tripped into
Manhattan for a matinee and dinner with a friend or two, but stayed the whole
time in Queens with Grandma.
And at
some point, I have to admit, it wasn't really vacation time anymore. I really
wanted to engage and entertain her because I knew she was so bored and lonely
most of the rest of the time. But meanwhile, as her hearing degraded, there were
lots of distractions. The ever-present TV at deafening levels; the necessity to
repeat everything...first because she didn't hear it, then because she would ask
the same questions repeatedly.
And it
was depressing to see someone who used to be so active and vital and plugged in
become so, well, old. Old not in age, but in connection to the world. Even after
years in bed Grandma was still totally into the stock market, talking to her
broker brother several times a day. But after he died, even that connection to
the outside world got more difficult to
maintain.
In February of 2001I was in
Europe on business when there was a strike at the Budapest Airport. The airlines
wanted me to spend the night in Budapest and try again in the morning, but I
said "how far West can you get me by nightfall?" Turns out they could get me to
NYC. And hopefully even early enough to cab it over to my grandmother's and
spend the night.
Unfortunately, various
delays put us into JFK just too late. I spent the night in an airport hotel. I
wasn't too concerned. After all, Grandma was turning 90 in April, so I knew I'd
be heading back for that big event.
She
didn't seem to like the idea of that big event though. She kept saying "90, I
don't like the sound of it. Now that sounds
really
old."
As it turns out, my late flight
into JFK made me miss my last chance to see my Grandma alive. Sometimes I think
she really just didn't like the sound of 90. Sometimes I think the f&*^ing
Dr. who came to her house because she had a cold and missed that it was really
pneumonia should have been sued for
malpractice.
I was back in NYC sooner
than I expected, right after Valentine's Day, for her
funeral.
I had no big plans to return.
No big reason.
Until my MarCom Manager
came and said that our PR firm had gotten me a speaking slot at the NAMIC
(National Assn. of Minorities in Comunications) Conference during Diversity
Week. (Big annual event in NYC for the cable
industry.)
Well, I am never one to turn
down either a) a speaking slot nor b) a paid trip to a fun place where I know
people, so of course I said "sure."
And
for once, for once I planned in some personal time tacked on to the business
trip.
I flew in Friday evening and had
the entire weekend for myself, before the Monday speaking
slot.
I saw friends; I saw cousins, and
I don't know how many times you've probably heard this, but the weather was just
impossibly gorgeous.
New York has 3
weeks of spring and 3 weeks of fall...during those weeks it is like the perfect
Bay Area day. Dry. Clear. Warm, but not hot or muggy. Well, this was
fall.
I took myself to "The Lion King."
(Paying full price and being a single ticket usually ensures you of a damn good
seat.)
And I had my requisite NYC brush
with fame on Saturday evening. It was Mary Louise Parker's penultimate
performance in her Tony-winning role in the play "Proof." It was packed, and the
first act was amazing. She was
amazing.
And as I shuffled with the
crowd to exit during intermission, I noticed that the rather short, unassuming
guy in a skull cap shuffling next to me was none other than Michael Stipe, lead
singer of R.E.M.
We poured out onto the
sidewalk outside the theatre right next to each other, and I was
thinking...which would Mr. Stipe appreciate more. Truth is I'm a huge REM fan,
have most of their CDs, have seen them live, have Automatic for the People on my
list of Desert Island Discs...even if you cut me down to bringing only
5!
However, perhaps he would prefer his
anonymity, to be treated like a regular guy. I mean he must have tons of gushing
fans approach him all the time.
So, I
decide to play it cool, and say "What do you think?" gesturing toward the
theatre. "I really like it" he replies in a perfectly normal, friendly manner,
"who wrote it?"
Not having any
independent clue about who wrote it, I quickly see the show poster up on the
theatre wall and point to it, saying "that guy...David
Auburn."
Mike, my buddy Mike, at this
point pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Now at the time I was one of those
non-smokers who bums a smoke every chance given. So, without shame, I said, "can
I bum one?" He shows me his empty pack and say, "this is my last one." (He
actually showed me the empty pack! LIke, please don't think I'm some selfish
lying celebrity.)
I thought Mikey was
alone, but apparently he was there with two friends, who showed up at this
point. A very handsome and very young man, and a not so handsome and not so
young woman.
Then MS actually asks his
young man-friend for a cigarette for me! What a gentleman,
huh?
But then the friends did this
whole circle-the-wagons thing. The man-friend lit my cigarette, and then the
man-friend and the hanger-on woman stood between me and the Mike-ster and turned
their backs on me! How totally
wack!
Hey, he asked me who wrote it,
and I figured it out for him, 'kay over protective hangers-on. What? Afraid
you'll be replaced as his toadying
entourage?
But I'm not bitter about it
to this day or anything.
So three years
ago today, on Sunday September 9th, I was thinking, "Wow, I haven't had this
nice a trip to NYC in years. How nice to be fancy free and financially sound for
a weekend in Manhattan!"
All I had to
do was speak on Monday afternoon and fly out on Tuesday
morning.
Piece of
cake.
Posted: Thu - September 9, 2004 at 06:29 PM
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