two seriously intense trips to manhattan

One weekend last month Steve, Mary Anne and I made two consecutive trips to Manhattan, one on Friday and one on Saturday.     On Friday at around noon, Mary Anne and I took the Long Island Railroad into Penn Station.      After a brief subway ride we met Joel.    We three got something to eat at a small local diner.   After we finished I, always having been such a compulsive bookworm,  went over to N.Y.U.’s nearby college bookstore to hang around while they had an important meeting with someone they were supposed to see.    Later we met Steve who joined us after his having gotten out of work.      Then there was yet another meeting with an architect and his friend,  a Jewish woman from Canada, who owns the company that’s in charge of the circumstances they were involved with.     After it was all over we visited Joel and his wife Andy at their apartment.      After a while Mary Anne, Steve and I went to Lincoln Center to see a production of  Giacomo Puccini’s opera “Madama Butterfly”.     I have several opera C.D’s but  unfortunately I can’t even remember the last time I saw an opera.     Steve got the tickets from his friend, Father John Mullen, S.J., whom I accidentally met while on line at Lincoln Center’s men’s room, when he asked about my St. Peter’s Prep sweatshirt.    Because I’ve never felt comfortable among strangers  I sort of expected to have a hard time getting used to having to deal with all the new people but it didn’t bother me so much.   I was entirely worn out by the end of the night though because of all the trains and subways, combined with the seemingly incessant walking.    Because it had been quite a long time since my last subway ride, I had forgotten how nightmarishly cramped and uncomfortable they are.   By the time the night finally ended, we had been subjected to a full thirteen hours worth of all this activity.   On top of everything else, on our way back to Long Beach, a woman on the train threw up in the car we were in.     The next day there was yet another trip to Manhattan  and we all went to a play in Greenwich Village.   That time we drove.    We left at around 6:00 p.m.      We saw  “East Towards Home”, Billy Yalowitz’ story of the life and times of folk singer and musician Woody Guthrie, told from the point of view of a young man growing up in a radical left wing Jewish socialist environment.   It’s set in the 1960’s and 1970’s.    Of course we all know about my notoriously  intense lifelong opposition to both liberalism and socialism.   I thoroughly enjoyed the music though.    Mark and Laura, and Mary Anne’s friend Lisa, were there with us.    After the play we all went to a really nice Indian restaurant.    As with Friday’s trip I was yet again forced to deal with many strangers and a lot of walking but I somehow made it.   At least on Saturday the day started much later and we didn’thave to be bothered with public transportation.   

SwissCheese

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