Trio of semis trucking south.
Median of cement and forest, woods glazed with snow.
Cars and trucks: BMW, Lexus, Corolla, minivan, Escalade. Bumpers and back windshields coated in grit from salted roads.
Car trailor truck carries a Porsche, one busted Explorer and a new one.
Road signs: Bel Air, Aberdeen Proving Ground, Havre de Grace, Port Deposit, Rising Sun.
The highway is dry and white like bone.
5:35 p.m.
I enter Southern Hospitality, a bar at Second Avenue
between 76th and 77th Streets. I had noticed it the day before on an
About.com site listing inauguration events in New York City. Of all the
ones listed, this seemed the most random, with promises of "Obama
shots, Hillary Pickelry (fried pickles), Left Wing Right Wing
platters." All the TVs inside are tuned to CNN, and there are two
random bunches of balloons attached to the beer taps. There are maybe
20 customers, and I don't think anyone is watching TV.
5:38 p.m.
I leave Southern Hospitality and walk north up Second
Avenue. At Pie, a place offering "pizza by the pound" between 80th and
81st Streets, there is a "recession special" offer of a small cheese
pie for $10. There are five closed-down storefronts between 81st and
82nd, two between 82nd and 83rd and three between 83rd and 84th.
5:48 p.m.
I go into Two Little Red Hens, a coffee/pastry shop on Second Avenue between 85th and 86th Streets and start reading the Times.
5:55 p.m.
I
order a small mocha. There are a wide selection of $4 cupcakes
available, and one man behind the counter tells a customer that
everything is "super-homemade." I hate the Upper East Side
6:18 p.m.
I finish my coffee and the Times. The place is quite
busy despite its small size, with a steady stream of customers moving
through. A woman sitting near me has engaged the workers in
conversation. She has discovered that all of them are not native New
Yorkers. They're originally from Missouri, California and Virgina. Two
elderly men sitting behind me are discussing "abstract existentialism."
I think I hear Picasso mentioned. The woman who was talking to the
workers starts talking to me about the Times and asks whether I think
there will be any Tuesday editions left on news stands. She worries
that they'll be sold out because of the inauguration. Her 94-year-old
mother had requested she pick up one. I tell her I think the Times
probably ordered a larger run than usual and that copies are still
available.
6:25 p.m.
I leave Two Little Red Hens and go to an apartment
building at Second Avenue and 85th Street to tutor a student for two
hours. We sit in her living room. Her TV is turned on and muted, tuned
to CNN until I leave. We discuss vocabulary, geometry and reading.
8:35 p.m.
I leave the apartment building and walk south on
Second Avenue. Between 83rd and 84th Streets, I notice a bar called
Ship of Fools. It has a notice in its window advertising newly acquired
Australian beers. I go in and order a James Boag's, a Tasmanian brew I
like and haven't had in years. It's tremendously overpriced. There are
about 10 customers in all, most lounging around the bar. There are also
15 TVs, all showing sports, but no one is watching intensely. The bar
is a typically bland Upper East Side establishment.
8:46 p.m.
Someone switches one of the TVs to CNN, where Anderson Cooper is blathering with some pundits.
8:47 p.m.
A
man walks in and sits down two tables to my right. He asks to see the
Tennessee-Vanderbilt college basketball game, so the TV that was on CNN
is switched to ESPN.
8:51 p.m.
I hear three guys at the bar talking about CNN's
political coverage, but before I can really start following their
conversation, the bar starts blaring a bluesy rock song that drowns out
the sound of anything else.
8:59 p.m.
I leave and walk south to 79th Street to catch the crosstown bus.
9:03 p.m.
I get on the bus and dial up a friend in California. I talk to him throughout the bus ride.
9:23 p.m.
I get off at Broadway, still talking to my friend. He's considering moving back east and taking a job in Massachusetts.
9:27 p.m.
I get to my apartment building and pick up the mail before taking the elevator home.
9:57 p.m.
I finish talking to my friend.
9:59 p.m.
I
talk to my brother. He says that he watched the inaugural address at
work, where everyone ceased their efforts for several minutes to watch
the speech. He says he enjoyed how Obama began by thanking Bush but a
few minutes later completely trashed his policies by saying achieving
security does not mean sacrificing our ideals. That was followed by a
cut to Bush looking peeved. I also enjoyed that moment.
Later in the day, in nearby Grace Agard Harewood Center, senior citizens ate a post-inauguration lunch of chicken, rice and green jello, along with miniature cartons of milk. After lunch, a deejay with the moniker Big Lou played James Brown in the party room downstairs. "When you're dead, you're gone, so let the good times roll," said a white-haired woman as she finished her lunch. The seniors drifted downstairs. At first the dance floor was empty but when Big Lou played the electric slide, the dance floor filled.
4:02 p.m.
I go to the convenience store across the street to buy a Coke Zero. The front door has a copy of Paris Match in the window with a cover article titled "L'homme de l'annee" over a picture of Barack Obama with wife and kids in tow. Inside, three pre-teen boys peruse the snack rack and discuss how much they like Doritos. I pay $1.50 for the soda, then head out and walk north to Cosi, a coffee shop and sandwich place on Broadway between 77th and 78th Streets.
4:06 p.m.
I arrive at Cosi and sit down in the middle of the large room on a couch. The coffee here is terrible and the food overpriced, so I don't buy anything. The place is about three-quarters full, with a typical selection of Upper West Side retirees and other random sorts. There's a soundtrack of inoffensive, soft rock playing. I spend the next 12 minutes writing about my experiences thus far.
4:18 p.m.
On my right, there's a young couple having an iced coffee and a Snapple. The man has finished his sandwich. At the table in front of me, there's a young woman with bleached blond hair. She's going over some documents in a folder and also drinking iced coffee. On my left, two ladies in their 50s/60s are talking in a foreign language but too softly for me to identify it. I start reading Monday's New York Times.
4:20 p.m.
The woman to my front leaves.
4:21 p.m.
The women to my left leave.
4:25 p.m
I try to read an article about Caroline Kennedy, maybe the 10th or 50th that's appeared on the front page in the past two months, but I can't get through it. I've decided lately to try to limit my periodical reading only to things I truly feel will give me something I want to know.
4:27 p.m.
The couple on my right leave. On my left and a bit ahead, there's a man in grayish khakis and a tie sitting in a booth. He was alone before, but he's been joined by a teenage boy dressed in a white T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. At one point, I hear the man defining the term "Pyrrhic victory.". I'm reasonably sure he's a college counselor and is talking about the boy's application essay.
4:30 p.m.
Now the counselor is talking about writing good transition sentences. Everybody likes a good transition. One of the employees, wearing khakis and a nice tan vest is mopping the floor.
4:32 p.m.
Several seats in front of me are two middle-aged men. They've spent the last half hour talking and drinking coffee, but now they're sitting side by side and peering at a laptop. I move behind them and discover that they're looking at a bunch of photos that have been uploaded. I feel sneaky, like a nosy spy.
4:34 p.m.
The counselor is now sitting next to the teenager and looking at bubble sheets and a standardized test book. A slender, young Asian woman is seated to my left looking at her e-mail on her laptop. Also on my left is a woman in her 50s wearing a thick coat and eating a cup of soup. A waiter comes to pick up the leftover food and tray left by the couple to my right.
4:37 p.m.
A woman in her 60s with dyed brown hair, a young woman with black hair and knee-high black boots and a boy of about 8 wearing a Spider-Man wool winter hat sit down on my right. They're speaking in a foreign language, maybe Russian or a similar Slavic tongue. I think they're probably staying at the hotel a half block to the south.
4:40 p.m.
The foreigners move to a different table. I begin reading an article about detainees at Guantanamo Bay.
4:44 p.m.
I finish the article. A woman in her late 20s has sat down to my right. She's drinking coffee and surfing the net on a laptop.
4:46 p.m.
I being reading an article about military recruitment
4:52 p.m.
I finish the article and start reading one about what Obama likes to read.
4:56 p.m.
I finish the article and leave Cosi, walking north to 79th Street to catch the crosstown bus, the M70.
5:02 p.m.
I get on the bus at Broadway with 20 others, almost all of them elderly.
5:03 p.m.
The bus starts moving, and I start reading the Times again. I read articles about Gaza, the McCain-Obama relationship, and the pending stimulus plan.
5:21 p.m.
I get off the bus at 79th and Third Avenue and walk to the Yorkville Branch of the New York Public Library to return two overdue books. I pay $2 in late fees and then sit down in the foyer, where a man is reading a copy of the Daily News. On the cover is a picture of Obama with the header "His Time." On the back is another Obama picture, but he's holding a baby this time and the headline screams "The Future In His Hands." There's a "Collector's Edition" of Ebony on the table to my right, with a picture of Obama and the words "Mr. President" and "Person of the Year."
5:29 p.m.
I leave the library and walk to Second Avenue.
Waiting for one of the kids I babysit at the Park Slope Chai Tots Kindergarten. A group of young mothers gush over one child's newborn baby brother. His name? Kobe Barack.
