I’m not giving anything away here, as my kid’s birthday isn’t too far away. It’s a known secret in our house, and the kid is expecting something from us. And I want to do something for her, because birthdays should be fun, no matter how old you get – Everyone should get to have at least one day a year where they feel special. But being that she is still a kid, birthdays mean that other children will be involved.
Today, my task was to complete the acquiring of items for the goodie bags. To accomplish this, I would have to leave Harlem and head down to the Lower East Side and the Village. And I was looking forward to this because I don’t leave my neighborhood as much as I used to.
I don’t mind the subway ride down to Delancey Street, and popping out on the street, I always feel turned around, even though I have been down there hundreds of times. One of the first rehearsals I had when I moved to New York wasn’t too far from there, and in 2006, I think there was only one condo tower around. I walked over to Economy Candy (The greatest candy store on God’s sugary Earth!) to get the treats for the goodie bags, and that joint is just down the street from the Paul’s Boutique corner.
Over in the Village I stopped by a local party store to pick up signs, and other stuff to decorate. I was struck by how many closed up store fronts were around there, even though there’s lots of construction happening. It seems like people are willing to spend millions on condos down there, but there won’t be anywhere to go and shop, or hang out.
All that said, even on a rain and not so cold January overcast day, I still enjoy walking around this City. I am still fascinated by the people, and the sounds I hear, and the way each block can have a different vibe and attitude. At one of my lowest points in my life, when my mother was sick and I knew what was coming, I would walk all over Manhattan, and just be in and around people and the City. There is something comforting for me in being enveloped by this place, and just walking along and experiencing it. It was true for Poe, and Whitman, and even Brando and Kerouac; all walking the streets, seeing what they could see.