Rainy Spring
In an hour, I'll be at the dentist's. A tooth at the back of my mouth has crumbled. Fortunately, I've felt no real pain, although my tongue is unhappy - the tooth has become rough rubble. It's a new experience, this falling apart of a tooth. The novelties of growing old are not amusing.
I had lunch with my friend Nom de Plume. We hadn't seen each other in a few weeks and we had much to catch up on, despite email and IM. We could have talked for another hour, easily. But we'll talk again; nobody's going anywhere.
The skies are grey and wet today. It rains in every season of New York's year, but spring rain is different (perhaps we New Yorkers are different). There's a gentle quality to spring rain that makes it welcome even when a gust of wind blows raindrops on your neck.
If I were to bottle my idea of New York City, it would be called "Rainy Spring." There's something about standing at a corner, waiting for the light to change, and watching a little Mississippi course by below the kerb on its way to the nearest drain that always makes me feel that the city is all mine. That this is where I'm from in every sense of the word. Even though, to my undying disgrace, I grew up in the suburbs (albeit the closest one in), and then had to live in Houston for a spell.
Well, of course I didn't have to live in Houston. I just lacked the gumption to make my own way in the world.
Rain is very forgiving, did you notice? And I forgot to tell you: I am going somewhere: Kuala Lumpur at the end of May!
