Daily Blague

Yesterday morning, I had to run across the street to Gristede's (a local grocery chain; accent on the second of three syllables) to make major paper purchases: Charmin, Brawny, and Kleenex in quantity. It was very bulky, so I had it delivered, and left the store with the three food items that I'd picked up. This relatively unburdened condition allowed me to linger in the driveway on my return to the apartment.

Our building, which is a large one by New York standards (although not particularly tall), has a driveway - a true blessing. It is, as you might expect, "U" shaped. For some aerodynamic reason, The space over the driveway, though perfectly open to the rest of the sky, has its own little weather system, one that is partial to cyclones. Baby cyclones, that is. I stood for a few minutes and watched a little ring of cherry petals whirl across the driveway, occasionally touching down but instantly picking up again. What made this delicacy so catching was the participation of a very long grocery-store receipt, which, cut up in small disks, would have quintupled the volume of the petals. It waved like the tail of a kite, snapping quite audibly, as if asking to be put down.

Later in the day, I made another return trip to the apartment, this time from the Hospital for the Ruptured and Crippled. That's what the Hospital for Special Surgery was called when it opened during the Civil War, as I discovered when I read the small print on one of the nurses' lab coats. I've never been able to remember this bizarre moniker (nor have I bothered to write it down), so, yesterday, while Sarah was prepping my hand for the needle, I asked her to remind me. "Ruptured and Crippled," she said with a laugh. "Isn't that awful? 'You there - you're ruptured and crippled!'" I repeated the phrase to myself several times during the next two-and-a-half hours.

When the infusion was over, I felt up to walking home along the river. It was like sailing on a fine day; the breeze was stiff and fresh, and the air, even alongside the flowing FDR Drive, couldn't have felt cleaner. I paused several times to look at the new buildings on Roosevelt Island. I went to a party over there once, and, let me tell you, they have the best views - in apartments facing west, anyway. Did you know that the principal thoroughfare on Roosevelt Island is Main Street? Yes, Virginia, there really is a Main Street, New York, New York  10044, even if, by any reasonable New Yorker's standard, it's in the middle of nowhere. It's an ideal neighborhood for people who would like to live in the bustle of downtown Juneau.

When I reached the driveway, this time encumbered by a fairly heavy bag from Agata & Valentina (an out-of-town friend is coming for dinner tonight), the petals were still whirling, but the receipt had disappeared. I didn't even slow down.