JoAnne and I, both only children, go way back, although we have never spent much time together. We last saw each other in 1993, shortly before my 40th birthday. She wouldn't become a grandmother for more than a decade.
It's funny how your mind works. Her comment the first time I took off my shirt in the dune buggy, the year I graduated from high school, remains seared in my brain for the lingering trauma it caused: "Jesus Jeff, your tits are bigger than mine!" Perhaps that accounts for my rude greeting, which popped out of nowhere as she stepped off the elevator in the Chelsea Savoy Hotel more than half a century later. "Well, you haven't gotten any taller, have you!" The subconscious never forgets.
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| Williamsburg Pizzeria |
JoAnne and Mia, her 17-year-old granddaughter, were in town for several days from Elbert County, Colorado, the red part of the state, less than a hundred miles north of where Cynthia, my other conservative friend, lives. They bought tickets to Hamilton upon arrival so I began our late-afternoon tour of Lower Manhattan with a walk along the Canyon of Heroes and a pilgrimage to the Founding Father's grave. His wife Eliza is buried there, too. American coins cover her flat tombstone.
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| Trinity Church Cemetery |
I warned JoAnne that we'd be doing a lot of walking when she inquired if it would be OK to pack open-toed shoes. "Comfort should be your top priority," I advised. Apparently, she and Mia got over their fear of dog poop and needles! People have very peculiar notions about New York City streets.
"I can't remember when I've had my picture taken taken so often," she remarked at one point. "You obviously haven't been hanging around me much," I replied. This is as close to a smile as JoAnne got. She's also a woman of few words.
After grabbing a bite at Brookfield Place, we rested our dogs going to and from Staten Island on the ferry, one of New York City's few tourist bargains.
It's free and you can't beat the views!
The sun was setting over Lady Liberty, both literally and figuratively.
We toured Central Park the following afternoon despite afternoon temperatures exceeding one-hundred degrees for the first time in nearly a decade. They already had seen the Sea Glass Carousel in Battery Park, so I showed them a more traditional kind.
Unbelievably, some bros were playing pickle ball in the courts behind Mia and JoAnne.
When her i-Phone overheated, this hula hooper had to stop shooting her Tik Tok content. I suggested she try Moynihan Train Hall instead, where young people can be found performing dance routines on the polished floors of the windowed corridor above the platforms.
I told Mia she looked as if she could have been painted by Velázquez.
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| "Lady with a Fan" (17th century) |
"Is that a good thing?" she asked. Our frames of reference differed considerably.
This turned out to be as close as she got to Hamilton. At the last minute, Stub Hub failed to come through with the tickets JoAnne had purchased. Fortunately they got a refund and were able to see The Lion King instead.
On Wednesday, we agreed that air conditioned activities like art appreciation at MoMA would be the way to go.
A stuffed animal installation by Mike Kelley seemed like the perfect backdrop for a photo op. Mia had made a special trip to F.A.O. Schwartz to look for a Jellycat.
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| "Deodorized Central Mass with Satellites" (1987) |
Next stop: Tiffany's, where JoAnne and Mia declined refreshment in the cafe. Imagine my surprise when I discovered they had brunched there the next day! My itinerary clearly didn't include enough luxury shopping time. Prada welcomed them, too.
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| St. Patrick's Cathedral |
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| SKIMS |
My visitors missed the Pride Parade by just a day.
In our quest for continued heat relief, JoAnne treated me to a fabulous tour of Radio City Music Hall. It's not every day that you get to meet a Rockette. Thanks again, JoAnne!
On Friday morning we took the New York Ferry to Williamsburg. A thirty-degree drop in the temperature made sightseeing much more pleasant despite overcast skies.
Residents of Elbert County probably don't see a lot of samizdat.
I chose Haricot Vert Dreamworld as a random destination. It specializes in charms. I went a little overboard fashioning key chains for the D-Girls.
We people-watched on bustling Bedford Street. I taught JoAnne and Mia how to play "hipster or not" while they shared a slice of pizza.
"Maybe this guy loves New York a little too much."
Drew texted us when he finished assembling our purchases at Haricot Vert. Mia's bracelet included the letters F, F & A.
Would you believe that she belongs to an organization that now goes by that acronym? Back home, Mia currently operates a grazing operation with several other FFA members.
I don't think I took a more iconic shot during their visit.
This was the last time they had to say "cheese."
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