of sailboats and machine guns
sunday, and i'm sitting in battery park at the southernmost tip of manhattan. the weather is georgous, and remarkably unlike october. this weekend, jenny holzer's truisms are supposed to be flown back and forth along the hudson, unfurling behind a number of small planes. they are not here yet, but i am because this is the latest in along list of things i've told myself i need to do in this city.
there's too much to ever do it all, but there's no excuse not to do more than i have been. from the arches in the park here, i can see my friend's father's apartment, high enough in the air that it's views to the east make even new jersey look breathtaking at night. and there's the statue of liberty, minding her own business, perhaps a bit unhappy, i think, that people are no longer allowed to snake their way up her arm. a circle line boat, impossibly packed with people takes off from the pier to my right, and i'm reminded that doing that, among the most touristy of new york things, should still be on the list i just mentioned.
to the left of the ritz-carlton, i can even make out the building my uncle lived in so many years ago, before suburbia, children, and a place to park your acura made a move to new jersey somehow palatable. in college when i stayed there with him, the first time, it was up to the roof with him and cans of beer and a developing sense of awe at the city at night that has never gone away. an amazing view from a window becomes moreso when you're up just a bit higher and when the sky opens up over you.
it's a different time now, of course -- almost silly to point out how life's changed years later -- but there's something kind of sad about how the view of kids and bikes and jetskis and ellis isand gets broken by a coast guard cutter crossing your field of vision, a guy on the back propped up against the biggest machine gun i've ever seen, on a boat or elsewhere.
but that was just for a second or two, and in place of that, eight sailboats. it's a better day for sailboats anyway.
there's too much to ever do it all, but there's no excuse not to do more than i have been. from the arches in the park here, i can see my friend's father's apartment, high enough in the air that it's views to the east make even new jersey look breathtaking at night. and there's the statue of liberty, minding her own business, perhaps a bit unhappy, i think, that people are no longer allowed to snake their way up her arm. a circle line boat, impossibly packed with people takes off from the pier to my right, and i'm reminded that doing that, among the most touristy of new york things, should still be on the list i just mentioned.
to the left of the ritz-carlton, i can even make out the building my uncle lived in so many years ago, before suburbia, children, and a place to park your acura made a move to new jersey somehow palatable. in college when i stayed there with him, the first time, it was up to the roof with him and cans of beer and a developing sense of awe at the city at night that has never gone away. an amazing view from a window becomes moreso when you're up just a bit higher and when the sky opens up over you.
it's a different time now, of course -- almost silly to point out how life's changed years later -- but there's something kind of sad about how the view of kids and bikes and jetskis and ellis isand gets broken by a coast guard cutter crossing your field of vision, a guy on the back propped up against the biggest machine gun i've ever seen, on a boat or elsewhere.
but that was just for a second or two, and in place of that, eight sailboats. it's a better day for sailboats anyway.
posted by quickstuff at 1.11.04
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