Former renter in Greenwich Village, waiting out the turnaround in Manhattan's midtown. Working on a blog-to-book project about my NYC/NJ ancestors. Everyday I'm amazed by what I find with Ancestry and in old newspapers.

January 12, 2020

A Soho moment

Soho, NYC
Soho mesmerizes me. I slow down from my usual fast-paced self, thinking about other things, paying no attention to what's happening around me to stroll and look, really look, through the big gleaming store windows at the nicest clothes, shoes and handbags in the world. Shoppers decked out in leather and spikey heels glide across the lumpy Belgian block streets like there's nothing to it. I look up and admire the cast-iron buildings. It's not cool to look up at buildings in New York but no one's paying attention to me. It's like floating through a lovely dream. I think I would be happy living there again. 

But I'm stuck in a lease in Midtown. It's been almost a year and and it went by quickly and as much as I'd like to get out of here my hair stylist, the voice of reason in my life, said the next year will go by quickly too; stick it out, it would cost too much money to move. 

I passed Sarah the Duchess of York while crossing Houston Street once. It was a Soho moment.

Jefferson Market Library
A long time ago when I was living on Waverly Place, I was on my way to the library, a windy day in March, when a movie star dressed in a tux stepped out of limo and said hello to me. I don't know what came over me but I dropped to my knees and screamed "I can't believe I'm seeing you!" A movie star talking to me? It was like Beatlemania, overcome by the music, perhaps meeting the gaze of Lennon or McCartney. Then before he ducked into a building he said, "Good luck with the wind" and that was that. By this time I'd mustered the sense to stand but I felt like I was floating. It wasn't like me to turn silly. I'd met celebrities when I worked in the music business and kept my reserve the entire time, but musicians are scruffy. I'm not attracted to them. This guy was like Cary Grant. When I told my mother about it later she said "Why's he talking to you? You're not in his league." That's true. I know that. But it was nice to be noticed by someone like him.

No comments:

Post a Comment