Another hundred people just got off of the train

"Another hundred people just got off of the train
And came up through the ground,
While another hundred people just got off of the bus
And are looking around

At another hundred people who got off of the plane
And are looking at us
Who got off of the train
And the plane and the bus
Maybe yesterday.

It's a city of strangers,
Some come to work, some to play.
A city of strangers,
Some come to stare, some to stay.

And every day
The ones who stay
Can find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees with the battered barks,
And they walk together past the postered walls with the crude remarks.
And they meet at parties through the friends of friends who they never
know.

"Do I pick you up or do I meet you there or shall we let it go?"
"Did you get my message? 'Cause I looked in vain."
"Can we see each other Tuesday if it doesn't rain?"
"Look, I'll call you in the morning or my service will explain.

And another hundred people just got off of the train."

Nothing like the city

8th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen

A visit to New York always inspires nostalgia for me, remembering when I used to live here.

The city has changed so, with new construction, sleek new buildings. Old neighborhoods have become gentrified and tourist-focused. Yet some of the old feel remains.

Conversation starter

One of my favorite things about living here is that there are so many outdoor cafes and coffee shops. I like to treat myself to breakfast, sitting outside at a rickety metal table, watching the traffic go by and maybe reading a book while sipping coffee.

Yesterday I grabbed up a novel I'm reading and headed to my regular cafe. When I got there, I was surprised and delighted to see a friend sitting there. "May I join you?" I said.

"Sure."

I put down my book and went inside to order my coffee. When I came out, he was looking quizzically at my book.

"Sex and Rage?" he asked.

Later, a friend of his walked by. They greeted one another, and he introduced me to her. Her eye fell upon the closed book on the table and she did a double take. "Sex and Rage?" she asked.

Today, I met another friend for coffee at another cafe. While I was waiting, I chatted with the waitress. She glanced at my book. "Sex and Rage?" she asked.

Eve Babitz is an author born in Los Angeles who became somewhat notorious during the '60s for her semi-autobiographical writings about LA's rock and roll and arts scene, and the culture of Southern California itself. She played the role of groupie/muse for several artists, including Jim Morrison of the Doors, Ed Ruscha, Steve Martin, and others. Her work is now being reissued, and I'm fascinated by her crazy, kaleidoscopic take on Los Angeles in the '60s. "Sex and Rage" is the third book of hers I've read. The book - so far, anyway - is not really about sex, and not really full of rage.

Yet - the title on the cover is so bold it really stands out! For a single woman sitting in a public place, I seem to have found myself an unintended conversation starter.  What an interesting experiment!

River colors

click to "embiggen" 

A colorful sight on the river - a container ship comes downriver, past the Central Business District

Then turns

And heads toward the Gulf of Mexico, 106 miles away.

Riverwalk

This morning's view from my river walk. It's already in the mid 80s! Looks like those clouds will bring a thunderstorm later on, but right now it's beautiful.

New Orleans in the summer!!

What's at our feet

Spotted in the Mairgny, New Orleans.

Train Graffiti

I walk in the mornings for about a mile down Crescent Park, which parallels the train trains downriver from the French Quarter in New Orleans. The cars are colorful with graffiti of all kinds. But sometimes there's one I like. Like this one.