The moment I returned to New York I phoned my old favorite downtown restaurant. The concierge notified his staff of my return and the prepared the finest chicken and beats and we all sang and danced and had the grandest time! Ha ha ha ha ha. Oh, that wasn't me, that was Dolly!
More accurately, I have returned dirty subways, impatient assholes, hilarious accents, and a general jadedness authentic only to the great NYC! Very quickly I realized that here I would have to say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to the recent Chicagoan who had unknowingly let too much of that good-natured midwesternness rub right off of the bread bowl and into her heart and soul. I guess I had forgotten New York facade. There are almost nationalistic differences between the greetings of a Chicagoan and a New Yorker. Not only do they not want to talk to you, but when they finally let you talk it's like you took way too long. The great things I have missed are Pizza, pizza, pizza...the close proximity of everything; a city that by geographic constraints can't sprawl, the subway art; the way artists have found their way into every blank space on new york subways, streets, and buildings.
Yesterday I visited my favorite museum, Manhattan Museum of Modern Art. They had everything from a Leatherman's multi-tool to a small collection of Chagall. There was also a special exhibit on scenic and costume rendering for stage and film including some artists I hadn't know to do stage like Rivera and Tchelitchew.
I think I was most fascinated by Rivera's. He had one performer dressed as a gas station in the ballet called High Power about industrialization.
