We just returned from 4 days in New York City, a place we love as much as Ithaca, despite our disparate standings in the two places.
We spent Sunday at a street fair on Amsterdam Avenue, delightful but a little strange-feeling, which we realized was because we were outside for three hours or so, among many persons, and knew none of them. This never happens in Ithaca.
We didn't even need to set foot back in Ithaca before it changed. When we boarded the bus to return yesterday, the driver said, "Who's watching the record store?" Beneath the Coach USA cap, we recognized a customer of ours at Small World Music. (We know his name: Leo. We didn't know he drives a bus.)
As a city native, I don't mind the anonymity which comes with citizenship there, unflagging though it is. One always has identity there, as a city-o, which is enough.
Among other only-in-NY moments, our favorite was a pick-up ping-pong game we saw in Bryant Park, between a young Asian woman and an older Hasid. It reminded us of Levy's Rye.
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