So, it’s my last full day in New York City and I still have a wish list as long as my arm. I’d love to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and see the Rockefeller Collection. I think going to the Guggenheim and MOMA would be great. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Instead, I get on the train and go to New Jersey!
I don’t know Daisy. I don’t know her parents. But I do know Grandpa and I’d walk to the ends of the earth for Deb, so what’s a christening. I’d bought my very special gift for Daisy at Macy’s earlier in the week. I’d brought one of my favorite dresses to wear. I was ready to go.
Thanks to our trial run, the whole subway and train thing happened without a lot of fuss. We arrived on time and her brother was prompt in picking us up. There was some time to kill before the christening, which was great for Deb, because she was able to spend time with family.
Everyone was very nice to me and appreciative of me coming with Deb. I think one or two of them thought we might be closer than we actually are, but that’s the way things are these days. I tried to let them know they were on the wrong track by talking about my HUSBAND Bill.
It was a beautiful ceremony with a very nice priest. Afterwards we went to a lovely restaurant down the street. It was a little crazy, because there were three or four special events going on, but it was apparent how much effort went into making things nice. Daisy is a delightful little girl and her Great Aunt Deborah enjoyed the time she was able to spend with her.
Time to Head Home
The train ride back to New York was the first leg of our return home. From there we rode the subway to our hotel. The next morning Lyft came to pick us up and deliver us to LaGuardia. Southwest Airlines delivered us to Love Field. Bill was there to bring us home.
What an absolutely spectacular trip. It ranks right up there with Egypt, the Danube Waltz and our Anniversary Cruise. All that was missing was Bill, but he would have been miserable for most of the trip, so for his sake, it was good it was a girl’s trip.
But my traveling days are not over. Just a few weeks from getting home from New York, Bill and I were heading out to Club Med’s Sandpiper Bay. Come back next week and we’ll head to Florida.
Dressing up and going to the Opera had been one of the things Deb and I had fantasized about most as we looked forward to this trip. When we made it back from our trial run for Penn station, I was still raring to go. Deb was done in. She laid on the bed and said she was going to wear what she had on.
Now if you recall, her feet were in serious pain and had been ever since Tuesday night, yet we’d been walking all day, every day. The only shoes she could wear at this point was a pair of kitten printed canvas slippers. She was a little rung out from the train station episode and I’m not sure how much fun it would be to get all dressed up and finish the look with kitten shoes.
Here’s what’s so great about our friendship, I still wanted to get dressed up, so I did and she thought that was great. I pulled out all my finery and as I did, I also started prepping for the next morning, when we’d be going to the christening. That’s when I figured out I had no hosiery for the next day. In Dallas in May, that would be OK. In New York, I figured I would freeze to death.
So, I finished up getting cute and had time to spare to go to our drug store. I have no idea what we would have done without it. We’d gotten foot remedies, new skin for my finger, super glue for my sunglasses, late night snacks, numerous Diet Dr Peppers and now I was going for nude colored hose and something to treat a fever blister. Yep, it’s always something.
We were such pros on the subway now, that we probably could have made it just fine to Lincoln Center, but just to be sure we used Lyft. I could get used to this. Our driver dropped us off right in front and we didn’t even have to think about parking.
I do not have enough superlatives in my vocabulary to describe how wonderful it was to see the Franco Zeffirelli production and sets for Turandot at the Metropolitan Opera House. It is one of my favorite operas of all time and I have seen it a number of times at my beloved Dallas Opera, but there’s a reason The Met is The Met.
Turandot was the Ukranian, Luidmyla Ariltato and she did a remarkable job, but her Calaf was a South Korean, Yonghoon Lee. It was so fitting to see an Asian in this role and he knocked it out of the park, vocally. It really was special in my mind. Deb kept talking about how amazing the entire chorus was. “They were actually moving and acting,” she said, “not just standing around singing.”
Then there were the costumes. They were the perfect compliment to the outrageously wonderful sets created for each scene. If there is perfection in this world, short of heaven, then this production of Turandot is it. I can die happy.
Remember the grand nephew we visited across from St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Well, we made plans to join him for a bite after the show. We had a little difficulty finding his favorite sushi restaurant, even though it was close by. Lyft let us off at Columbus Circle and it was supposed to be right there, only we couldn’t find it. They were just about to quit serving when we finally got there, but we weren’t all that hungry after our feast at the Tavern on the Green earlier in the day.
Then he escorted us to the right subway station and sent us on our way. We made it back to the hotel just fine and felt very New Yorkish to be trotting around so late at night. I know horrible things happen to people on the streets of New York, but we never had a moment’s trouble.
The fun is almost over, but we have one more big event. Come back next week and we’ll take a little train ride.
My mom left me with a long list of travel must-do’s. Never mind I’d managed to go places she never saw. She wanted me to be sure and see the things she had seen or things she had wanted to see, but never made it. Like the Tower of London. She went to England twice and never made it to the Tower to see the Crown Jewels. I’ve done that. She loved Windsor Castle. I still haven’t been there. The list goes on.
Last year I knocked off a biggie – the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. Now I was in New York, ticking more things off her list. Certainly, the Metropolitan Museum of Art was high on her list, but so was Tavern on the Green. For many years I despaired of ever getting to Tavern on the Green, because it closed down for a while. Not as in a pandemic casualty, but long before that. Various New Yorkers and the City of New York were squabbling over everything from trademarks to vendor’s licenses. According to Wikipedia, Trump (yes, that Trump) came in and made the necessary renovation happen and now the Tavern is back in all its glory.
While I wanted to tick as many items off Mom’s New York list as I could, I also had my own preferences to consider. So, I chose the Frick over the Guggenheim or MOMA and I had the Tavern on the Green as a possibility, instead of a must. Part of me wanted to go ahead and make reservations for that Saturday afternoon, but the other part didn’t want the pressure of rushing through the Frick.
So, with the Frick behind me, we strolled across Central Park (a treat in itself) and made our way to the Tavern. Something I had read told me to go ask for a seat in the bar. Reservations are hard to come by and expensive if you don’t show up, but apparently you could always just ask to sit at the bar.
When the girl looked up and said, “Do you have reservations?”, with a smirk that said, “You out of towners never have a reservation,” I smiled and said, “We’d like to sit in the bar.” We were seated immediately.
I’d like to say we were waited on immediately, also, but that did not happen. We were virtually there forever. I ordered a burger, the most expensive one I’ve ever had and proceeded to enjoy our time in the Tavern.
As we sat there, waiting first for a drink, then for a menu, then for another drink, then to place our order and then the decade to get our food, we watched the entire bar area fill up. The patio outside had been full when we got there and stayed full the whole time. The rest of the restaurant was full, also.
When I finally got the most expensive hamburger I’d ever ordered, it was delicious. I wouldn’t say the best I’d ever had, but certainly a good one. Deborah also liked whatever it was that she ordered, but we agreed the price was prohibitive. Maybe if Mr. Trump invited me to be his guest, I’d go back, but probably, I won’t be back.
The Subway Challenges Us
We had tickets to the other Met this evening – The Metropolitan Opera – but the next day we would be venturing into New Jersey via the train. Deborah was a little anxious about how all that was going to come down, so we decided to make a trial run.
For once, the Subway and its app were not our friends. Apparently, a lot of maintenance happens on Saturdays, when the traffic on the subway is lighter than weekdays. When we’d visited Grand Central Station the day before, Deborah had gotten some information that should have helped us find our way, but that information did not take into account the Saturday maintenance and the app, wasn’t really helpful.
With a little difficulty, Deborah was able to find Penn Station, which is where we needed to catch the train. She found a very helpful agent that walked her through the whole process and relieved her mind. Then we tried to return to our hotel. That did not go as well.
The Metro app and the construction signs were taking us around in circles. We finally left the underground and hit the sidewalk to figure out where we were. That’s when my handy dandy analog maps came in very handily. I’d been referring to them all week, but when electronics failed us, what a blessing those little books were. They helped us get to another part of the subway system not being worked on and then back to our hotel.
It was time to go to the Opera. Come back next week and enjoy the highlight of our trip. We did save the best for last!!
While it would have been very easy to spend every waking hour of my New York week at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I didn’t, because I want to feel as if I know any city I visit, not just hit the top site. That’s why we stomped all over Mid-Town and Lower Manhattan, as well as taking advantage of the subway. Hopefully, some day, I will get back to The Met, but I needed more than one museum to know New York.
You could museum into perpetuity in New York. They have a little of everything. Museums like MOMA and Guggenheim are better known, but once I’d read about the Frick Mansion overlooking Central Park, I knew it was the choice for me. My choice was tested when I discovered they were renovating the mansion and a selection of the best items had been moved to a temporary home called Frick Madison, but reading through a list of items in the collection, I kept the Frick on my list.
While the Frick was no further away than our stroll to the Met, at this point of the vacation, less steps are better. As we ate meal bars in our hotel room (we were dead tired of their breakfasts and I could not face another egg) Deb pulled out her handy dandy Metro app and discovered we’d need bus service to get close to the Frick. So with the help of the app, we took the bus. It dropped us into a completely different world a few blocks from our destination.
This was residential New York, the Upper East Side and plenty swanky I will let you know. This was a quiet Saturday morning. We saw a few joggers. There were mommies and daddies out with the latest style of preambulars. We were on hallowed ground.
Coming to Madison Avenue, we made a left and continued to enjoy our surroundings. We arrived on the doorstep of the Frick with time to kill, so I backtracked to a small convenience store I’d seen along the way. You know those movies where someone steps into a small crowded bodega and is suddenly swept up in a robbery or a mugging? Yeah, well this wasn’t that place. The proprietors were oriental. Everything was neat, nothing was crowded and yet the space seemed to have a little of anything you might need.
I was in dire need of caffeine and I was ready to take it in whatever form I could get it, but to my absolute delight, they had my beloved Diet Dr Pepper in a screw top bottle. I could drink what I needed and save the rest for later. I was jubilant. I don’t think anyone had ever been jubilant in their store. They smiled and nodded, but I could tell they wanted the crazy person to leave and return them to their previously quiet and neat atmosphere.
Then it was Frick time. The first floor is a functional floor with offices, ticket sales and a store. We walked into the first gallery on the second floor. Holbiens, Hals and other fabulous painters from Holland and the Netherlands. Then BAM, the Rembrandt self portrait we all know. We may not even know it is a Rembrandt self portrait, but we’ve all seen the guy with a mustache in a funny hat, washed in golden light. A roomful of Van Dykes and three of the only 34 Vermeers which exist in the world today. We’re only in the first set of galleries and we’ve already seem more Old Master paintings than most bigger museums have in their entire collection!
The third floor has many of the decorative arts, which many of you will recall is my absolute favorite thing in a museum. Carpets, porcelain (so much Meissan) and of all things, clocks. There was a lot of Italian art of all varieties and in the Spanish section, several El Greco’s, which I love.
The decorative arts also filled the fourth floor and these were French – oooh la la! Not in necessarily in manufacture, but taste – think Sèvres and Meissan. Continuing on the fourth floor was a gallery filled with Frangonard’s Progress of Love. Like the Rembrandt self-portrait, these are paintings you’ve seen reproductions of all your life. To see them in person and all together was stunning.
Then, as if you are not already gob-smocked from all you’ve seen, there is a room of Impressionist paintings, finishes out the floor. Not a comprehensive collection, but stunning nonetheless. At that point, I just wanted to go back to the second floor and do it all over, but other entertainments beckoned and we were hungry!
If I went back to New York tomorrow, I would first go to The Met and then back to the Frick – and hopefully, the renovation of the mansion would be over and I could see these masterworks in their usual venue, placed in his gorgeous home, just as Mr. Frick thought they should be. Then I would go to the Guggenheim and MOMA. The Frick is just that good.
But it’s lunch time! Come back next week and we’ll cross Central Park to the Tavern on the Green.
“Best calamari I’ve ever had!” That statement, from a Facebook friend is what got us to Carmine’s. I was looking for an authentic Italian restaurant to enjoy during our stay. The reviews on Google were also overwhelmingly good. Why wouldn’t we go?
So, after our Rock Pass Extravaganza, we returned to the hotel for a little cocktail time, before our dinner. We visited with a nice couple from Shreveport on the sofa across from us. One of them was a music teacher, so Deb, my friend the opera undergrad and ballroom dancer, had plenty of fodder for conversation.
I have to say, I’ve always considered myself the chatty one, but in my old age something has happened. I seem to spend more time listening to other conversations than making them myself. Am I just lazy or have I suddenly gotten boring? I’m not sure, but even when I am out with my husband, who is certainly not loquacious, I find myself not saying much. Perhaps having a platform, like this blog and my Facebook feed, where I can write what I want to say uses up most of my words. I like being able to edit before I hit the send button.
I asked above why we wouldn’t go to Carmine’s. Well, one reason might be because it was Friday night on Times Square. What a zoo! The photo above was actually taken on an earlier stroll up Broadway. On this night, the marijuana fumes were thick, the knockoff bag sellers were everywhere and it was crowded. Crowded yes, but not as crowded at Carmine’s. We had reservations – even so, we had to wait.
By the time we sat down, we were just happy to get a table, any table, but we certainly didn’t have a good table. We were tucked into a nook at the top of a stairway. It was hectic and loud. As all the reviews warn, the servings are huge, well more like ginormous. While it may be an amazing experience for a large group, we felt both overwhelmed and lost in the shuffle. I wouldn’t recommend it for couples.
It was not the best calamari I had ever had. It was probably the most calamari I’ve seen on one table, if size counts, but I didn’t give it any extra points. It was also not the worst calamari I’d ever had. It was the real thing, not those plastic rings they sometime claim are calamari, and certainly good, but not the best.
What was incredible was the garlic bread. I know, we were carbing out, but we’re eating Italian, right! That stuff was made in heaven. The wine was OK. I think we had some Chianti for a bit of a change.
When it was over, we left behind enough food for four people, and we hadn’t even had an entree. After yet another long day of walking, we were exhausted, so back to the hotel and ready for another day.
Next week we’re headed to the Frick and a bucket list item I hadn’t actually hoped we’d manage to tick off my list, but we did! Come find out what it was.
It almost felt like pre-pandemic days. Something came in snail mail which invited us to a free event. Those used to come all the time from The Dallas Museum of Art, The Dallas Arboretum, various premium car dealerships and other organizations. Then we all went into hibernation and the world had changed. Nothing comes in snail mail anymore and the only thing that might be free is a ZOOM meeting.
But by golly, several months ago, our HOA magazine invited us to a free event to celebrate their name change, the Stroll Meet & Greet. They kicked it off with great fanfare, suggesting that once I made my reservations I’d be inundated with all kinds of follow up information. That didn’t happen. In fact, I had to do a little investigative research to figure out if it was actually going to happen or not.
Once we made the drive across town and arrived at the event, we discovered we were the only couple from our neighborhood to make the trek. The editor of our magazine and her daughter were there, but no one else. I would say that should give you a clue about the magazine’s readership, but on second thought, I realized the location of the event required residents of Buffalo Creek to cross the bridge and many folks out here in the Lake Cities, Rockwall, Heath, Fate etc. don’t go anywhere that requires crossing the bridge, especially if it’s at rush hour.
Well, Bill and I are just misplaced Dallasites, so while we may curse, moan and complain about the bridge, it is not a barrier to us attending a free event in Far North Dallas. The location of this particular event was Starpower, just off the Dallas Parkway. If you aren’t familiar with Starpower, I’m not surprised. It’s a high end appliance and home theater store by Ed Kellum and Sons, but most folks have never heard of it. It’s a beautiful showroom and served as a great venue for an homeowner event. Bill even looked at a frig.
All in all, it was a pretty nice event. There were some food stations, a photo booth and adult beverages With six neighborhoods in DFW N2 Publishing’s stable and free admission, I would have expected a larger crowd, but there you go. I said it ALMOST felt like pre-pandemic days and people staying home in droves is just one of the post-pandemic realities.
Another post-pandemic reality is that most people have forgotten how much fun it is to dress up. “Cocktail Attire” was requested and some of us rose to the occasion, but most people did not. Business Attire was also an option, so I gave those people a pass, but the slobs (and they know who they are) put a damper on the gala atmosphere. They may be comfortable and doing their own thing, but I’d just as soon they stayed home, too.
The sponsors did avoid another post-pandemic trend, of which I’m glad. To be honest, it’s a Millenial/Gen X trend, but it all tends to fit in the same bucket, in my humble opinion. There was no virtue-signaling claim of a charity or cause benefitting from it. Everywhere I go it seems someone wants a few to many dollars for their cause or for me to buy their raffle ticket or to donate something for their silent auction. If I donated to everyone with their hand out, I’d need someone to have a gala for me, because I’d be bankrupt. But I’ll get off that hobby horse. I’m a voice crying out in the wilderness and I’m totally off-trend.
Lone Star CASA’s Bunco & Bubbles Brunch
While the Stroll Meet & Greet didn’t have a charitable agenda, the next event on my calendar did, the third annual Bunco and Bubbles Brunch. This was an unashamed fund-raising event for CASA and I heartily endorse Lone Star CASA and their mission. What I don’t like is the way a charity is tacked on to obvious marketing ploys, where someone or some organization wants to get credit for my donations to their charity. It just doesn’t sit well with me. Marketing is marketing and charity is charity.
That being said, this was a pretty fun event. Yes, they sold raffle tickets and yes there was both a live and a silent auction, but I can live with that. One draw is a brunch with bottomless mimosas. An improvement this year was the addition of cranberry juice to make poinsettias. My tummy cannot tolerate the acid in orange juice and apparently I am not alone. When I attended a couple of years ago, orange juice was all they had and a bottomless glass of champagne can be a little dangerous. I’m glad my car was able to drive home on its own.
The brunch itself was not exactly bountiful. There was a three-tiered plate stand with nibbles at each end of the tables. The choices were very skinny finger sandwiches, teeny tiny quiches and three-fruit hors d’oeuvres. Or you could go pick a cold glazed doughnut off a board with pegs on it. Were I in charge, I think I’d dump the brunch part and just provide a snack mix in bowls for finger food. A lot less hassle and expense. To boot, people like me wouldn’t show up hungry with visions of a buffet. They did refill the selections several times, but exactly how many mini-quiche can you eat to balance out your mimosas and poinsettias. If there were no brunch offered, folks would eat breakfast before they came. No charge for the advise.
The other draw was Bunco. I only play Bunco once in a blue moon and usually when I do, everyone has donated a few bucks to the pot, which is then split up among the winners. The head table (where the winners sit) sets the pace for the game, because you play until someone at the head table gets 21 points. If they roll a Bunco (all three dice have the target number) then it’s a really short game.
This game was played in four minute heats and were they ever hot. Some of the women were rolling the dice as if their lives depended on winning. Their goal was to get as many rolls as possible into the 4 minutes. That took all the fun out of it for me. With certain rolls, you’re supposed to call out for a token to mark your score, but instead of being able to celebrate your feat, these crazy women wanted you to continue rolling while you madly waved your hand to get your token – a cheap string of beads, which would be turned in for a ticket, which gave you a chance at a prize.
The heats were also very loud. You had some ladies coaching those who had never played Bunco, other women were counting the scoring dice rolls out loud, some people were cheering on their partners and then there was the desperate calls of “Bunco” and “Mini-Bunco”, so we could get our necklaces, while the self-selected Bunco bosses would shout, “Keep rolling! Keep rolling!” Over it all was the timekeeper shouting out how many minutes/seconds were left in the heat. Confession, it was all a little overwhelming for me.
Taking It Easy Sunday
After so much excitement, I was ready for a quiet Sunday. We visited Rockwall First Baptist in our continuing search for a church home. Like several of the churches we have visited, they were doing a lot of things right, but it just wasn’t for us. I grew up on 3-Points- &-A-Poem sermons, so it was all very familiar. Nothing theologically wrong with what was taught, it just wasn’t challenging enough intellectually and spiritually. I need something that’s going to keep me thinking all week long, until I can go back again the next Sunday to get more.
The music part of the journey is the toughest part. I actually liked the music they sang, but they only put the words up on the screens. I really, really need the actually bars of music or I’m left feeling around vocally, trying to figure out what the tune is. After struggling through several contemporary songs, I was so relieved to move to a very familiar hymn, that I could barely sing it for the tears. It shouldn’t be so hard to worship!
Next Bill got his Starbuck’s fix. I don’t drink coffee and relaxing is a very hard thing for me to do, but if he can go sit through a worship service he’s not all that interested in, then I can go hang out at Starbucks. From there we visited a few nurseries – also not my favorite things, but I was getting to spend the day with the love of my life, so what did I have to complain about. We did come home with some youpon hollies and a few nandina bushes – neither of which were on my short list, but at least we’ll get some shrubs planted. Bill and I have very different criteria for plants.
The day slid into evening and all too soon the work week started. Put the Bunco & Bubbles event on your calendar for next year and then come back next week for a little more NYC and some great Memory Keeping Advice. Then we’ll have another weekend report.
Travel There – Libraries, a Cathedral, an Architectural Tour and The Top of the Rock
There was only one thing wrong with our plan for the day and that was Deborah’s feet. Her shoes tore them up on that first afternoon, when we strolled Broadway and since then, all we’d done was walk – all over Liberty Island, Ellis Island, Lower Manhattan, Central Park and The Met, as well as a trip back up and down Broadway. Still, she is a trooper. She medicated her blisters, put on bandages, wore thick socks, pulled on shoes and kept on walking. I don’t know if I would have been so tough. I’ve had days ruined by a paper cut.
The Morgan Library
We had breakfast at the hotel since it was included, took a quick subway ride to save Deb’s feet a few steps and made our way to the Morgan Library. Our admission time was 10:30 and that’s all you get, admission. I sort of assumed someone would take us around and point out the highlights. I was wrong. They pinned a tag on each of us and set us free.
There is an audio tour available on their website and we did listen to some of that, but I like people. Yes, I know I am a dinosaur, but it is what it is. In the absence of a tour guide, it is still an amazing place. They were very serious about masks and overtly politically correct, but I can ignore almost anything.
There is the historical building from JP Morgan’s time, standing as a testimony to his taste and erudition, with a very, very modern building added as a sign they are keeping up with the times. By far, my favorite things were those in the historical part of the museum complex. Several interesting exhibitions were on view in the newer part when we visited – Hans Holbein, Gwendolyn Brooks and Woody Guthie. Of the three, I found Woody Guthrie’s the most compelling. I had known of him, but little about him until I saw this exhibit.
Then we went inside got our tickets for the Rose Main Reading Room, which is the main attraction for tourists. We had an hour to kill, oooohing and aaaaaahing at all there was to see, while we waited to get into their very special space. It was totally worth it. Gorgeous. My photos are awful, so browse the websites I’ve linked to.
From there we checked out Grand Central Station. First, because it is a landmark everyone should see, but also we thought that’s where we’d catch the train to New Jersey for the christening, but it wasn’t.
I’d seen several hints that I should go to The Lott New York Palace which was once the Villard Mansion. It’s located right behind St. Patrick’s Cathedral, so I didn’t see any reason not to check it out. Totally worth the side trip, even if you wouldn’t have guessed it from the outside. Serious construction was going on, but inside, yes, it was worth the side trip. Several really amazing things to see, including the Gold Room, which all by itself was worth the visit. You’ve seen it in so many movies!
St. Patrick’s Cathedral
Next up, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where the travel gods once again smiled on me. A wedding was going on which included an ethereal voice singing Ave Maria. It meant I could not walk up close to the famous altar and such, but it was a great trade off!
We surprised Deb’s great nephew who was working at a store across the street, which I will not mention, because he no longer works there. That’s when we decided to be spontaneous and have a little break, because resting our dogs while sipping a little wine sounded like just the thing. NYC did not cooperate.
I thought standing right next to Rockefeller’s famous rink, darling little wine bars would be all over the place, but in spite of further irritating Deb’s feet by walking all over the place, the only thing we could find was fast food. Saks had a coffee bar, but it was not an inviting place to rest, there was no alcohol and I don’t do coffee. We killed all the time we had stomping around to find a place to relax, instead of relaxing.
Architectural Tour and Top of the Rock
Having used up all our break time trying to find a place to take a break, it was time to go on the Architectural WALKING Tour of Rockefeller Center. I heartily recommend this to anyone. On the tour, we were introduced to many beautiful works of art we’d passed in oblivion in our search for a glass of wine. We learned a lot about Rockefeller himself and were pleased to learn he was a little rebel, purchasing and displaying works of art thought scandalous at the time, in part because the artists weren’t nice white people, but also because they displayed hitherto covered parts of the body.
After the walking tour we finally found an outdoor wine bar, which was exactly what we’d wanted before the tour. The area was shaded by the surrounding buildings, so it was a little chilly and the wine was downright bad, but we didn’t sweat it. We chatted with some eccentric old woman who would have us believe she was the antique maven of the entire city, and she might have been, but mostly what we liked was not walking for a while and taking an edge off the stress of walking around NYC via maps and our wits.
While it would be nice to say we could have spent more time there, the wine really was bad and it was entirely too chilly to be comfortable, so when it came time for our Top of the Rock tour, we were ready to go. We walked a couple of blocks back to the elevator, took a couple of escalators and there we were at the Top of the Rock.
Deborah told me the Top of the Rock tour had been her sons’ favorite thing about their visit to New York. I am glad I went, but I did not have that kind of enthusiasm for it. It was one of the most expensive things we did (except for the shows we went to) and I thought all of them were more my cup of tea.
I did the Hancock Building in Chicago and I have to say I thought that was a better experience. They have decals on the window to let you know what you’re looking at. There are more exhibits explaining the city and the building to you. I also felt less like a member of a cattle herd. To boot, Chicago is one beautiful city, while New York is overwhelmingly big.
But wait! The day is not over!! Come back next week and we’ll have dinner at Carmine’s a famous and much recommended Italian restaurant in Times Square.
Well, my bestie’s big weekend arrived, The Texas Lone Star Ball. Some time in the Fall she had gotten a new dance partner and I’ve been sharing her with him on weekends as they took lessons and practiced.
Around the first of the year, Deborah asked if I’d be available to go with her to their first competition in mid-March. I love any excuse to hang with my bestie and I try to see her dance any time I can, but I’d never seen behind the curtain at a competition, so sure, I was ready to check it out.
Friday, she picked me up around two and we headed off to the Galleria Westin. We checked in, took our luggage to the room and unpacked for the weekend. Then we hit the mall. Now, we are big shoppers, that’s for sure, but we weren’t casually checking the sales. We were on a mission. Deb needed pantyhose – not the big box store variety with reinforced panty, but sheer toe-to-waist pair.
See, while Dancing with the Stars competitors just come out with as little in the way of clothes as possible, in real competitions, each style of dance has a mode of dress. Deb would be dancing both Smooth and Latin numbers. Her smooth ensemble was complete, but she needed the panty hose for Latin. The ladies are supposed to wear fish net hose for Latin and apparently that’s a very uncomfortable prospect if you don’t have a regular pair on hose on underneath and in Latin, you also have open toed shoes and a very, very short skirt.
So, we hit Macy’s first and they recommended WalMart. Knowing WalMart didn’t have what Deb needed, we tried Nordstrom’s instead. Back in the day, the hosiery department was part of accessories and held pride of place on the first floor of any department store. A wide variety of brands in rows of self serve counters vied for your attention with promises of sleekness, durability and style.
Heck, I can remember when there was no self-serve. You walked up to a counter and discussed your hosiery needs with salesclerk which would then pull out selections for you to choose from. The your selection would be put in a thin box with tissue and sometimes a ribbon. I miss those days.
At Nordstrom’s we discovered hosiery had been demoted to the second floor and resided in one lonely fixture with very limited choices, but that put them lightyears ahead of Macy’s, who thought you could only get pantyhose at the big box stores.
That done we had one more small task. Though I’d been talking to Bill for days about the dance competition, he waited until thirty minutes before my departure to freak out about my absence, which resulted in me forgetting to put in a dress-up outfit for the Gala Dinner. Deb wasn’t even sure how dressed up they would get, but if everyone else was decked out, I didn’t want to be sitting there in the jeans and sweater set I’d be wearing the rest of the day.
I hit a store called Image, which had throw away fashion on the cheap, where a found a black swing jacket with silver glitter woven into it. At Lovisa I found a cheap rhinestone necklace to dress up the turtle neck sweater I’d wear under it. I was gala ready!
While Deb’s been dancing in competitions for a number of years, she’s always done it on the cheap, skipping the money eaters like Gala Dinners and expensive restaurants, but her new partner goes first class. So, she decided to go all in this time and I had the privilege of going with her. That meant dinner at Oceanaire with her partner and his teacher.
The prices on the menu were not the denominations Deb and I usually see. Sure, we’ll splurge on something like a birthday dinner, but Oceanaire was expensive, no two ways about it. There’s two ways to go about a meal like that. You can go in budget first, eat a Caesar salad and be practical. Or you can dive in with both feet and break the bank. Deb and I went for the latter.
The alarm went off at 4 AM. Deb needed to be on the floor rehearsing at seven and she had a lot to do before then. Stage make-up is the first hurdle. A little lipstick and mascara will not do on the dance floor. Then there are all the things that go on before you put on your gown – this kind of hosiery, that kind of undergarment, etc. and so on. Then getting on the gown is like suiting up for a joust.
At that point, Aimee came in to go after the hair, which had been in hot rollers while the rest of the activity was going on. This is a big deal. Hair can’t just be fluffed up, it also has to be anchored into place so that it won’t fall as Deb makes her way around the floor. Apparently, there are hair pros who start styling even earlier than Deb and I woke up, but Deb doesn’t feel as if she’s in that league yet and she also doesn’t want to spend the money. They ended up with something which looked very 40’s starlet and I doubt a pro could have done any better.
After the hair was glued into place with copious amounts of hairspray, it was time to add the jewelry. The jewelry we’d selected for her smooth performances, a shimmering full length gown in in gunmetal gray decked out with pearls and crystals, was long dangling clear rhinestones earrings and a clear rhinestone necklace. The piece d’resistance was her bright red elbow length gloves which matched her bright red lipstick.
Meanwhile, I fell into a pair of jeans, a pair of sweaters and a pair of boots I’d brought to battle the extreme cold of the ballroom. I put on some makeup, but my hair was a total loss. That was OK, with peacocks like Deborah running around, no one was going to pay any attention to me anyway!
A Day of Dancing
At 7AM Deb and Richard, her partner, were on the floor to warm up. I was in charge of keeping up with the dance heats and videoing their performances. It’s more difficult than you might think. From 7:30 AM on into the evening, every 90 seconds there’s a new group marching out on the floor for their heat. Deb and Richard had 24 performances and then Richard has his pro had at least that many more.
Though Deb has explained how the heats work and how they score it doesn’t quite click with me. Some points are awarded for just showing up to dance and for the number of heats that you dance. When you are out on the floor, multiple judges are looking at multiple levels of competition. So, even though everyone may be dancing a Paso Dobles or a Viennese Waltz, there will be various age groups and categories of the dance competing at the same time. You and your partner may be the only Intermediate Silver in the Senior Amateur competition and you may end up with first place, but it was actually the only place.
You can usually tell some of this, like who’s dancing with a pro and whose dancing with an amateur, by the number the man wears on his back, but then there are amateurs like Richard, who dance with both and who dances in everything from Intermediate Silver to Full Gold levels. Yes, it’s confusing.
The morning was given over to smooth dances waltz, foxtrot, tango and Viennese waltz. Then while the country dancers took over the floor, Deb ran upstairs and put on her Latin outfit, changing everything from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. I have to confess, I thought the second half of the day was more fun – salsa, samba, paso dobles, bolero, even the hustle! Though I would have loved to get on the floor and rock out a bit, one look at the precise costumed dancers on the floor kept me permanently bolted to my chair, but I might have chair-danced a little.
By the end of the day, all the sambas and rumbas ran together and I did good to keep from falling asleep. The judges changed out every hour. I was glued to the table announcing heats and taking photos. I love DEb, but I was done.
Wrapping It Up
The Gala Buffet didn’t have much pizazz to it. I could have saved myself a few dollars, but we didn’t know that. After the buffet, the dancers went in to participate in the awards ceremony and see more dancing. I went to bed. I didn’t go to sleep until later, but I read while I reveled in the quiet of our hotel room, hoping the ringing in my ears would go away some day.
The next morning we got packed up and met for breakfast there in the hotel. After that we loaded up the car and headed home. I was glad to get there. I had a quiet day at the scrapbooking table and finished up my 2022 everyday album. I am now officially caught up.
Come back next week, Deb and I will be attending the Bubbles and Bunco Brunch to benefit Lone Star CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates) – a fun party with bottomless mimosas and a great cause. All the other usual things will be happening, too. So, stay in touch.
It was supposed to be Joe Allen’s and Moulin Rouge, but I had a little planning hiccup, so we ate at Sardi’s instead. All of my life I’d heard of Sardi’s, so I wasn’t too upset, until I got there. BORING!! There is no longer any sizzle, only a very tired restaurant, mediocre food and a zombie waitstaff. Let’s move on to more exciting things.
So, while Sardi’s was a real disappointment, Moulin Rouge was not. There was frisson in the air as we approached the Al Hirshfield Theater. Everything was under construction along the street, which added it’s own chaos to the gathering crowd, wearing their masks and whipping out their phones for entrance into the theater. Apparently, actual paper tickets are a thing of the past.
Once inside the theater, we were all Bohemians, but you’d better not be carefree enough to take off your mask. All around me I heard stories of a show being stopped while an usher beamed a light at unmasked people. Someone else said they’d seen people thrown out of the theater for taking off their masks. A flyer warned us of all the things we were not supposed to do and just in case we missed it, an usher explained the seriousness of the crime of masklessness.
The musical was everything you’d want a Broadway production to be. The set, as you can see above, was amazing. The costumes were great. And the voices? WOW!! We were in the balcony, but we could see and hear everything with ease. We loved it.
I’ll be honest though, I did not love the music of the musical as much as I did the music of the movie. It wasn’t the singers. It was the songs. What I didn’t know is that the show was written in a way to include current music in the story. I’d especially loved some of the songs in the movie and was waiting eagerly to hear them. One of the first songs belted out was Lourde’s Royals. It fit in perfectly and it’s a song I like, but it was my first clue that I’d be hearing different music that night than I had anticipated.
It’s a great show and very much like the movie, but not exactly like the movie, even beyond the music. Logistics was part of it. You just can’t fit the movie set of Moulin Rough into a Broadway theater, so you saw only the inside of Satine’s dressing room, not the huge elephant it was on. While absinthe, the dangerous green spirit, plays a role in the live show, it is somewhat different than the movie. In the movie it was almost exalted, while in the show it is more clearly a villain.
Should you go? Absolutely! It was one of the highlights of the trip, but don’t eat at Sardi’s. All in all this was a red letter day. To go to the Met and a spectacular Broadway show, all in one day, was pretty amazing.
We trotted back up Broadway to our hotel, doctored our various ailments and got ready for the next day. Getting old really does suck, but it is better than the alternative.
Next up, a walking tour of Mid-Town, so be sure to come back next week for the Morgan Library, the New York Public Library, St. Patrick’s and Top of the Rock.
My Saturday highlight was FOREVER’s Pet Milestones Online Event, but I started my day at the scrapbooking table. I’m working on a personal album, because I will have a client’s album to start soon, and I want to be caught up with my own stuff. Over the weekend I got up to October 2022, so I only have a few more pages to go.
My bestie is a Memory Keeper, too, so she joined me to watch the Milestones program. She doesn’t do it as a business, but she is her family’s historian and has been working with me on albums for years. However, I think she’s about to abandon the traditional scrapbooking route and embrace the digital side of things, because her sons have no interest in her carefully created scrapbooks, but they dig digital.
She enjoyed the Pets focus of the presentation, because even though she’s inherited all her family’s media and memorabilia, her phone is full of cat photos and videos. A number of the segments were devoted to auto print projects and we were both fascinated with how quickly they could be print ready. I still enjoy the creative process, but for those who just want to get it done, Auto Print is auto-amazing!
After the hour long program it was time for lunch. We decided to try the new seafood restaurant around the corner. The Anchor is a casual restaurant and bar. There’s a patio, but it was a bit brisk for that on Saturday, and there’s a bar, but we were there to eat.
You go to the counter to order, get a number to display on your table and then they deliver the food to you. I opted for a shrimp basket and margarita. The food is affordable, but the drinks are a little pricey in my opinion. I guess one makes up for the other. However, both food and drinks were great.
Then it was time to go shopping. I still had birthday coupons burning a hole in my pocket, so we went to Firewheel, where I could use them all. First stop, DSW! I walked out of the store with a new pair of shoes for all of $10. Then on to Kirkland’s, where I scored a 20% off deal on the cute rabbit in the meme above. Next stop was Chico’s and they had a valentine-themed top on the clearance rack. I hadn’t had any valentine-themed clothes for awhile and decided I’d get it for next year. I only had to contribute a few dollars to go along with my coupon. Last coupon stop was White House|Black Market. My coupon would have almost covered a cute pair of earrings, but I opted for a gorgeous bracelet which would take a few more dollars out of my pocket, but guess what! I had earned enough in their loyalty program over the years to pay the balance! Score!!
You work up a thirst when you’re coupon shopping! Or maybe it was the fried shrimp? Anyway, we went to Sonic to grab a soda and the server overheard us talking about my birthday coupons and gave me a large drink for 99 cents. Another score! Then we made our way to the plaza to enjoy the fountain (and a little people watching!) Then it was time to go home.
Lazy Sunday
Sunday was a quiet day. We visited Lutheran church and marked it off the list, which was too bad, since it is so close to home, but it didn’t meet any of our criteria, except perhaps for the decoration of their sanctuary, but that wasn’t enough to get us back.
We had a few stops to make before we went home. Deb and I had visited Tuesday Morning on the way home from Firewheel and I saw a few things I thought Bill might like. I was right and we did buy a Cuisinart frying pan, to replace the scratched up thing we needed to replace, a table cloth and Bill found a treat he wanted to try. Next was Costco for beverages and Bill found a few other things he wanted to try. Then we enjoyed some of our favorite fast food, Cane’s!
At home, Bill retired to the sofa for a little nap and I hit the scrapbooking table. And then the weekend was over.
The upcoming weekend I will be going to a dance competition with my bestie. She’s going to dance and I’m going to be her dresser and moral support. Come back next week for a report on the world of competitive dance, after traveling to NYC and enjoying some memory-keeping.
jane sadek 