I Heart New York

Mr. Stave's surprise birthday brunch for Mrs. Stave was a success -- 12 of Mrs. Stave's friends descended upon Yura and Company on Third Ave., coming from places as far-flung as Philadelphia, Annapolis, Crimson City and Brooklyn.

I zoomed in and out of the City myself, arriving at 10 pm on Friday night and departing on the 5:30 pm Saturday bus back to Crimson City. Upon arriving, I found myself starring in a comedy of errors played out in the subway stations of New York: by not paying attention, I took the F instead of the C and wound up on 7th Avenue, then took the D instead of the B and wound up at 125th Street, where an extremely creepy man? woman? in a tan parka and dirty white boots shuffled past me with dead eyes. Most sad. (But wouldn't Zombies of Harlem be a cool name for a band?)

Finally, I hopped on the right train and landed in front of Fearless T's door, where I was plied with a plateful of Shabbat dinner and told that I could turn the light on if I liked (Orthodox Jews being unable to do the deed themselves on the Sabbath). My original host had begged off earlier on Friday due to an "infection," which turned out to be a lucky thing, since the home of Fearless T (and now, Mr. Fearless T) is a warm, inviting, comfortable, wonderful place. Much like Fearless T herself.

Brunch the next morning was a lovely thing, with Mrs. Stave saying repeatedly, "I can't believe you came here from Crimson City!" and visiting all parts of the 14-person table through the morning. A good number of folks ended up at one friend's nearby apartment for the rest of the afternoon, and I was sorry indeed to leave on my 5:30 bus outta town. The rest of the group went for a walk in the strangely balmy and definitely not forecasted February afternoon.

The bus was fun -- it's a new Chinatown bus service right from the gates of Crimson College to Penn Station, stopping in New Haven at my alma mater. I have to admit, I felt a little verklempt when the bus drove by my old res college. Aw. So long ago. So many memories. So much growing up. And so many good friends, many of whom I saw on Saturday: Mr. Rocks, BC, One-Armed Maggie, and of course, Def and Stave. All of the above are coupled up and moving on up with their careers, and we collectively marveled at the passage of time.

It was a really lovely 24 hours, and New York to me seemed a lovely place, warm to the touch and rife with the deep affection and ease of friendships tested and polished over the years to a soft, burnished glow.