Day to Day

There is a lot I don't remember about my time in New York... I don't even recall exactly how long I was there - somewhere around 4 to 6 weeks, I think... But the things that I do recall are etched in my memory... There are stories to be told but I'll leave those for subsequent posts. For now I'm just going to talk about the day to day odds and ends.

For the first couple of years after dad brought Lillan to the U.S. they lived in Boston. But at the time of my visit dad was working in Manhattan and they were living in a highrise building in Riverdale (north of the Bronx).
Aside: It's odd that I don't recall where I slept when I was there... I think it might have been on a sofa in the living room. (A pull-out sleeper?)

I don't specifically recall the drive from JFK to Riverdale on the evening I arrived, but I do remember that the freeway traffic there was (generally) insane. I had been to L.A. many times but New Yorkers took it to a whole different level... In L.A. people tended to slow down when traffic got really heavy. But not in New York... I'm talking about 2 car length separation at 60 MPH. It was unreal... And any car left on the shoulder was stripped - I mean wheels, doors, hood, trunk lid, seats... I had never seen anything like it before.

OK - I do recall walking into dad and Lillan's apartment for the first time. That's because it was strangely familiar... Most of the furnishings - like the couches, lamps and tables - were the ones I grew up with. Even the dishes were the same. They had been dad's Christmas present to mom in '62 or '63. (I remember when Karina and I went with dad to Wanamakers in Philadelphia to pick them out.) ... It all kind of conveyed the sense that mom had been "replaced".

Most days were uneventful - somewhat boring, actually... Karina was having a "thing" with one of dad's younger acquaintances. Like most of her relationships it was "on and off" so she tended to drift in and out...

Since dad and Lillan only had one car (a '68 Barracuda convertible) dad typically commuted by train. He'd get home in the evening (usually grouchy) and start mixing Rob Roys (his drink of choice). Like I said - it was all strangely familiar.
One evening when he got home Karina and I were sitting by the stereo listening to the Abbey Road album - not even very loud... Dad came in the door, walked right to the stereo and turned it off - without saying a word or even so much as looking at us...
Karina and knew exactly what the other was thinking: "What an @ss!"... I mean - all he had to do was ask... It was yet another reminder that in his mind he was the only person who mattered...

BTW: Dad's surliness didn't seem to faze Lillan one bit. It was a totally different dynamic than I was used to. She just ignored the things that used to set my mom off...

Then there were the trips into the city... I remember wondering how so many people could live so close together and yet be so distant from each other... It was as if they were all in their own little protective bubbles...
One evening on the news they were showing footage of a gas explosion at a Manhattan restaurant. (The news crew got there before the emergency responders...) Customers had been blown out the windows onto the sidewalk and were lying there dead or seriously injured. And pedestrians were just stepping over them - not even breaking stride or looking down... Nothing could shock a New Yorker out of his/her little bubble.

OK - on to another topic:
My mom had never been much for cleaning... She had a plaque that read "My house is clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy" and that pretty much summed it up. Of course, the "clean enough" part was debatable :-) I don't think I mentioned this before, but in Philadelphia we had a hand-crank type can opener mounted on the wall. We used it for both people and dog food - and I don't recall it ever getting washed... Also, I'm pretty sure I can count the number of times I saw mom move a piece of furniture while cleaning on one hand.

Lillan, on the other hand, spent her mornings vacuuming and dusting every square inch of the apartment. That included removing the sofa cushions and getting under every piece of furniture... And all the while she'd be singing and humming - just having a wonderful time. Yeah - I've always tended to avoid cheerful people. They interfere with my depressive brooding :-)

BTW: Lillan was an amazing cook. I always looked forward to the meals whenever I visited them in the years that followed...

Next: At that time I still had a learner's permit and had never driven anywhere more hectic than downtown Tyler, Texas... Dad, for some reason, thought it would be a good idea to have me drive around Manhattan... I still remember how terrifying it was. Lane markers and traffic signals didn't seem to hold any particular significance there. Let's just say it was "memorable".
Then (I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here) when I was returning to Tyler dad insisted that I drive to the airport... So there I was - southbound in the left lane on the Van Wyck Expressway - when the car in front of me suddenly shifted right, thus revealing a vehicle abandoned in my lane. There was no room to stop. The only thing I could do was change lanes... Luckily, the motorist next to me saw it coming and slammed on his brakes to let me over. Otherwise there was no way I could have avoided a collision.
It was a valuable lesson (one I've never forgotten) about expecting the unexpected and being aware of everything going on around me.

Finally: I've already blogged about my efforts to "unlearn" my childhood affectations - becoming "born again blue collar" - disavowing any notion that I was better than anyone else... And visiting dad reminded me of just why I had gone though all of that trouble...
It was an environment where everything was "special"... The antiques, original artwork, their friends, the music they listened to, the wines they drank, the TV they watched - even the way they dressed and behaved. They just didn't have very much in common with the average person...
Now - I know that dad and Lillan would be deeply offended at the suggestion that they were in any way "elitist" - yet they knew so little of mainstream America that it was almost comical at times.

So yeah - it was all a bit strange... Lillan was only 3 years older than Karina so it was hard to treat her as an "adult"... And dad really wasn't used to having us around so there always seemed to be tension in the air... All in all I'm not sure why I stayed as long as I did... I guess I just didn't have anything better to do :-)