Our final day in the Big Apple was another sweltering one. We hopped on the subway after our morning coffee and made our way to the World Trade Center and paid our respects and said a prayer, and then ventured to the South Street Seaport, to look at the ships, shops and the Brooklyn Bridge. Maybe we'll walk across it next time! From there it was a record shop hunt in Greenwich Village that yielded no new goodies, a visit to Starbucks and the best White Chocolate Frappacino I've ever tasted, courtesy of superb barrista, Shavon (that girl gets a commendation!) before a quick chow down on some chicken tenders and wings at a decent fast food chicken house.
We met Kim Sullivan, a longtime friend from Oakland who relocated back to NYC recently, in the Milford Plaza lobby. It was wonderful to see Miss Kim. She looks as pretty as ever and kept us laughing as we journeyed to MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). Once there, it was like having our own personal docent, as she regaled us with fascinating tidbits about the various artists and their work, with plenty of conversational sidetrips catching us up on mutual acquaintances and friends. After doing MOMA, we rested in their sculpture garden and took advantage of the great photo ops there.
Too soon, it was time for us to return to our hotel and Kim to go visit her Mom. It just reminded us of how much we miss Kim, and what a treat it was to be able to spend time with her in NYC.
That evening we saw August Wilson's final play, the 10th in a 10 play cycle, "Radio Golf," with Harry Lennix and a glowing if underused Tonya Pinkins (hadn't see her since "Caroline, Or Change"). It started slow and stodgy but turned out to be moving and poignant, sparking thoughts about politics, ambition and the nature of friendship.
Still no meat strombolis at Ray's, so we settled for a big slice of pizza and a meatball roll each (delicioso!) and stopped at the deli for two more slabs of cheesecake. Sated in every way, our senses bludgeoned to the max, we packed our bags and fell asleep easily.
Saturday morning our car arrived a bit early and we got to the airport two hours ahead of our departure time, only to learn our flight time had been changed to two hours earlier and we were told was already gone! The next plane to Oakland was scheduled for 4 PM. We were frustrated and tensed out, but we waited in line for the ticket agent, who, after chastising us for not printing out our boarding passes on the nearby machines (who knew?), told us the plane was late and if we ran, we just might make it, even if our luggage did not.
It was like a scene out of the Keystone Kops as we raced across the airport, through security, hopped on a shuttle and made it to the Gate to wait in line 20 minutes before boarding. When we got to Oakland (an hour early, mind you), our luggage arrived with us.
We had to go see Kevin Costner's serial killer "Mr. Brook" to celebrate. It was excellent.
And, way too soon, our summer adventure was over, and I was back to work, trying to make some dollars for the next trip...
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