Today in the park, a bride in fox fur and draped satin slouches across the ocular trajectory. As today is only September 14th, far too early in the season to be flouncing around in fur, her being is immediately subjected to a most pointed criticism by me, sitting on a nearby bench. to her credit, there are no photographers following behind them to capture the spontaneous exhalations of newlyweds, on a date probably some three weeks before the actual ceremony. They stroll, and they are alone, in finery and in a park, on their wedding day. The light hovers gold.
another handful of dried fruit is shoveled in while i decide whether or not to forgive them their happiness. They’re not the worst offenders today, by far. fox has set up a promotional set for their new show ” sleepy hollow” in the park, and people are wandering in and out of a fake barn, lead by headless horsemen. The photos they take, holding enormous and shining medieval weapons, offend with their irrelevance. Smiling with all your teeth tends to offset the menace potential of a pike staff.
suddenly, i hear my name, and an actress I know saunters forward, flanked by two male dancers. The rehearsal they are on their way to is a block away, and a political musical, not about Israel/ Palestine, cyprus, or the German problem, but about walls, you know, in general. They’re loitering, because all of us are worried that the guy sitting the next bench over is Macklemore. The conversation is good.
I sit back on the bench when the familiar strangers leave, rather accomplished, and cheerful
. i give a homeless man a can of soup out of the grocery bag. I get up to begin the long walk uptown, to home. Saturdays of inaction,
And then, the all important question: did I have an almond nestled in the fold of my coat the entire time?