What, now you tell me?
To the long-legged black man in the Stevie Wonder glasses and white beret who engaged me and made me smile on the Uptown A train, and who paid an extra dollar to the singing panhandler, on my behalf.
To the two unaccompanied small white boys (8, 11?) on the platform of the downtown C at 14th Street who had the following conversation as they waited for their train.
8: But it's easier to teach the class if they first understand the subject matter.
11: But we only have to invent the board game, not explain the rationale.
8: I don't see the point, in that case.
11: Just listen to me, nothing will be altogether eliminated. Maybe I should just do it on my own
8: But the exercise is to encourage building teamwork.
Their train arrived, the small one chose the car with fewer commuters, and off they went.
To the High Line, for having pussy willow in bloom.
To the Chelsea Market - for good mozarella and cheap dried sausages and a perfectly-sized galvanized tin bucket which now has an old English rose growing in it. Thank you.
To my blender: for making that drink that we drank on the roof at 5.30pm - with the pineapple, the gin, the lemon slices, the ice and the Haagen Dazs lemon sorbet.
To the suddenly hot weather.
To the robin who got stuck on repeat at about 8pm.
To the tugs and ferries and landing planess and setting sun and later the stars of Orion and the Big Dipper and a red dwarf, out there.
To the striped deck chairs and the cat watching and listening to the dark.
I could not have done it without you.