We still got it

Big A and I fell in love in New York. And though we’ve hung out with the kids heaps in the city since those early days, there is some lingering sense of surreality about revisiting places which were all about our passionate freefall with two kids, and as more responsible adults. Because, I guess, the “we” that we are in Yellow Springs is irrevocably tied to our personae as parents, but the “we” that started in New York is all us. In my head--at least--the Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, Clinton Street Bakery, MOMA, Anthology Film Archives, KGB Room, Penn Station… exist merely as picturesque backdrops and bit players in some grand narrative about us and our self-centered fascination for each other. Barf :).

We drew up a complicated and ambitious list of where we wanted to eat that was typically Balthazar for breakfast, Saravanaa Bhavan for lunch, and Motorino’s for dinner. We skipped Balthazar, but I guess two out of three isn’t at all bad. And the night before that we got a corner booth at the fancy steak place, which meant that the kids could play pirates to their heart’s content and I could get tipsy off of beachy drinks (I didn’t realize until I typed that out that there was an ongoing ocean theme there!). At Saravanaa's my people were talking really loud and at Motorino’s the NYU kids were worse behaved than my own, so we made out ok.

2011: More New York!

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Sunday, New York

The solstice sleeps

you understand

we may have dedicated

the guitars to silence

while the rocks, the day,

and the house unfold

the stiffening ponds

watch mountains march

and all the suns shine

falling in the snow.

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On Broadway

Our wonderful dentist

who in a brilliant correspondence

of name and profession

is called Dr. Fang

Told Baby A

at her two-year dental check up

that her teeth were: "Strong!

Like Lion King!"

A whole year later

as we take our seats

in literally the last row

at the Minskoff

The toddler

bares her teeth

in friendly

affinity.

_________

It was a wonderful show. My dream room now has a swirling terrazzo and hovering bird mobiles. And given the seven-year difference between them, I'm constantly grateful for these few years when both Li'l A and Baby A can enjoy the same shows.

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Out of Ohio

On our way to New York, I'm telling Big A about how the first time I heard John Boehner--just a few months ago--on NPR when he made a speech about his American dream and how I'd interpreted the quaver of tears in his voice as sincerity.

Since then of course I've become more familiar with Boehner's lachrymose tendencies, and increasingly embarrassed because there's no telling when I'll get emotional about a range of stuff from the perfect deep-fried veggie burger to an ad in a magazine I paid five dollars for asking for a two-dollar donation to The Hunger Project.

Me: I'm afraid I'm going to seem as fake as Boehner.

Big A: Nah, Puppy. Your tan is the real thing.

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Gray Day

Ohio sun rises only for the sky

but sharp, sure stars swagger

about borders on oblate plains

Like people you have set free

who then disappear, unstable

as salt left out in the rains

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With Plenty of Crybaby Juice

Your pain clears the windows.

Blind, your gaze can skip skies.

Tell me, was it you who visited,

slipped on these words, cried?

__________

Big A's first real day off in 15 days, and both Baby A and I made mad crybaby juice in little-little batches all day. Connection? Coincidence? Hmm.

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Mornings with Children

The troubled light of December, seven o’ clock

the clucking annoyance of the second hand

These are the stains that describe your breakfast

your mouths are hovering-harmonium-talk

Now that the light is so bitter and literal

we lose one battle; we win other wars

You are made of just ghee and molasses--

and pools of unhurried, inundant memoirs.

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And after all that, Li'l A made off with a medal in the spelling bee today. Perhaps slow and steady does win the race :).

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