St. Mark's Place

I always love the parting view of New York City when the bus or car rounds the bend
coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel on the way back home.

Too tired to write much except that I drove Figgy and L. into the East Village tonight and it was colorful and fun. We were only there a couple of hours but it was rich. [H. was working at a party in Connecticut.]

I've been to the East Village before but never really thought much about it. Tonight I observed more closely--had some time to stand around, since Fig and L. wanted to wander alone a little. First that made me mad and worried, but then I calmed down. All three of us did have cell phones, after all.

I liked studying the vibe of hip, young people, many who seemed college-age; attractive young families; and a spicy variety of eateries. I wondered what it would be like to go to college in NYC and have the Village as your playground.

I knew I didn't fit in, in my brown skirt, sleeveless fuchsia ruffled blouse and white Nikes. And I didn't really like Fig and L. wandering alone by the tattoo parlor and other shops only because they seem foreign to me. But my friend Celia, who lives a few blocks away in Stuyvesant Town, walked over to meet us, too [sweet treat!] and said that when she was in high school, St. Mark's Place was the fun place to go with friends. And that her high school freshman, B., feels the same way.

It kind of befuddles me, though, that Figgy wants to go into stores like Urban Outfitters on Second Avenue [we have one right on Park Street in Montclair] or Forever 21 [there's one at Willowbrook Mall]. But I guess she loves them even more in the city she adores.

We had frozen yogurt at a place on Second Avenue called 16 Handles. Well, the girls had it first and later, Celia and I ducked in to try it. It has 16 soft-serve yogurt flavors, 16 handles to pull yourself to fill your cup. Tempters like red velvet; cheesecake; and dulce de leche; http://16handles.com/.

I knew the trip was a success when Figgy and L. were singing happily to a song on the radio [the radio! listening! together! unplugging their iPod earphones!], windows open on my Dad's old white car, as we rounded the bend outside the Lincoln Tunnel. The beautiful cityscape glowed and glittered to our right, against the dark sky.

Dad was also doing pretty well today. I brought him a ham and Brie sandwich and some chocolate-chip cheesecake. He liked both.

It did not escape me that this was probably the first time Dad's white car made the trip into New York City. In recent years, if Dad went to the city, we drove him in our car.

Grateful. Good night.

P.S. I adore Wikipedia--again. Look how they capture St. Mark's Place in a capsule, and even mention suburban teenagers: "The street has long hosted alternative retailers, appealing in recent years particularly to suburban teenagers; nevertheless, the street is somewhat of a crust punk haunt. Venerable institutions lining St. Mark’s Place include the Yaffa Café, Sock Man, the St. Mark's Hotel (one of the few hotels in the city to still offer hourly rates), St. Mark's Comics, Trash & Vaudeville, and a handful of open front markets that sell sunglasses, and silver jewelry. There are also a number of authentic Japanese restaurants and bars, as well as many record stores with rare and competitively priced merchandise."