|New York, New York…|
God I love New York. I mean I always have, from the first time I came here with my little sister when I was 23 and she was 18. We stayed in a hostile off of Broadway and watched the Macy’s Day Parade on mute in our dirty cramped room, listening to it live outside our window. Too lazy to brave the rain.
on my trusty old film camera. Smoke still coming out of the wreckage, military in gas masks stationed everywhere; make-shift prayer sites on every corner. The American Flag planted by NYFD flapping in the cold December wind. But most haunting of all were the thousands of pictures, posters on every available surface of loved ones who where missing and now presumed dead. The memorials throughout the city; dried roses hanging on fences, candles burning day and night next to framed pictures of fathers and children, husbands and wives, grandparents,
reminding us how intensely personal this all was. Yes I loved it then. I loved being one of the few tourists in the city. Loved the special attention we received from New Yorkers showing their love, appreciating the fact that we’d take the risk of boarding a plane to see their amazing city, when no one else seemed quite ready.
|Brooklyn Bridge, NYC|
I get off the plane and head to grab my luggage, rolling it out to the freezing January afternoon at JFK.
suddenly appears directly outside my window.
mine, I’ve know it all my life…I’ve made. I used to dream about the life I’m
living now, I know that there’s no doubt, I made it.
the fight. But now I’m on top, I told you I’d let it ROCK, now money’s falling
from the sky! I made it.”
Open my window so the cold will sting my face and keep the tears at bay.
looking me up and down slowly with a smile. I’m being hit on by an obvious native New York Italian Guido; his accent is thick and charming. “You’re really from here right? Girls like you don’t live in OREGON!”
I walk down the hall to the elevator, and promptly freak out! I do a quick little dance, like a spider crawled down my shirt, and let my smile take over my body. I get my composure quick before anyone sees me. After all I’m a New Yorker now, I wouldn’t want to lead on that this was all brand new to me. That this was the first day of the rest of my life.
|Times Square, New York City|
I go to my room, drop my stuff on the floor and head right back down stairs. I need to feel the city. I walk and walk, and walk. Stopping at a Jewish deli for some Matza ball soup. I walk past Madison Square Garden, up to Time Square. It’s brilliance at dusk is mind-blowing. I stand in the center and look up like a 5-year old kid. I stare in amazement, I’ve seen it before but this time it’s like the billboards are saying my name and flashing my picture on their story high screens.
couldn’t feel a thing.
I run my meetings, gave presentations on the 80th floor of One Liberty Plaza,
with a perfect view of the Statue of Liberty out one window and the construction from 9-11 out the other. I cant help but think this is the view the people in those building saw that faithful day. As I setup for my meeting waiting for the lawyers and Partners to come in, I take a moment to snap a picture. In it I’m standing in my suit with the skyline of New York and the Statue of Liberty behind me.
|Me on this trip in Times Square walking to Madison Square Garden to watch a Knick Game in the sky box 🙂|