New York is a city of hierarchies. It’s not enough to have a comfortable home that shelters you from the elements, that’s safe and that can hold all your stuff. New Yorkers also give considerable thought to the ranking of boroughs and then the neighborhoods inside those boroughs.
It’s not enough to be gainfully employed here, there’s also the industry and position to consider. Not enough to be educated for there are the right and wrong schools, right and wrong majors.
There’s also a hierarchy of laundry. Some people have washers and dryers in their apartments. Some share with others in their buildings. Still others need to use public machines at a laundromat. I once lived on the 4th floor of a 5-story walk-up and needed to haul my laundry down the stairs and two blocks to just have clean clothes for the week. (If there was ever a time to be single that was not it.)
Now I live in a building with a laundry room just one floor up. One day I might move up in the world and have an in-apartment unit. Maybe not. Or perhaps I’ll become one of those I’ve forgotten to mention, outliers in the usual system of classification who for one reason (or another) don’t think much about the washing of their clothes at all.
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."