The Istoriaphile’s Corner

It’s happened. After decades of waiting and wishing and dreaming, I finally visited New York. Think I went there filled with excitement? Truth is, I was flat terrified. Why was I so scared? How can I explain this? First, that town has gravitas in my family. It’s where my mother and grandmother were born. My Grandmother spent more than 70 years walking this earth and she never lost that New-Yawk accent. Or the assurance that came with it. And my Mom, with her birth certificate signed by LaGuardia himself, carried her birthplace through life like an imprimatur and shield. But I am only the descendant of Knickerbockers, not one myself. And the closer I got to takeoff, the more I felt like 18 different kinds of a Rube with less edge than a serving of Jello. But guess what: New York is just a place, a city filled with lots and lots (and lots) of people. And not all of them are edgy fashion models. There’s tall ones, old ones, fat ones, thin ones, you get the general idea. But other than the fact that that they all seem to be in a hurry to get where they’re going, New…

financially, it’s never been a good time for me to fly to New York.  So I  dreamed and figured someday I would go there.  I just never thought my money would get there first.

When we were young, And Broke, And starting out in life together, Nothing was more fun than a drive.Over the roads and around the curves we’d go,Grinning like fools, Shouting with laughter, Harmonizing with the radio.Our future, always just over the next horizonThat we sped to on paid-with-pennies gasI didn’t care how poor we were then.I knew great things were headed our way. Well, we didn’t get famous, or start rolling in gelt, But we’ve taken a few bows in our time, And tripped some fantastic lights. Those moments were fine, though not all I expected, And usually not worth the fuss that came with them.I’m happier back in the car. Belted into the shotgun seat, One foot propped on the edge of the dash. Drumming on my thigh to the rhythm of a song That left the charts decades ago. As gray-haired, we still speed down the road, around the corners, and over the hills. Rolling toward an unknown future.Traveling hopefully.