I went into midtown today

Sep 16 2001
I went into midtown today to see Tim, who lives at the Peachtree lofts and overlooks the dilapidated old Days Inn which hides the bottom of the "Nations Bank Building." The city was too quiet, inimically quiet; when I was leaving a man drove past me going the wrong way on a one-way street with shards of automobile glass adorning the seal of his car window. The sun was out alone today; the city was not so alive as I had hoped. I really love the city, and I've always wanted to live in New York with windows that opened on a horizontal hinge midway up the window and protruded out high over the sidewalk, so that anyone who cares to lookup knows I can hear them. At night, I could lay on an old couch perpendicular to the panes of glass and listen to the howl of exhausted brakes, and watch the pinnacles of civilization lonely on the one hundred something floors, reading perhaps The Subterraneans, and wishing I was in San Francisco. It is improbable that such a scene ever existed anywhere except in the human mind; nothing makes a place more romantic than having never lived there.

Last night, Kristen and I had wedding duties, she more than I, as she performed the role of Maid of Honor. I sat in the cheap seats with Stephanie, wife of Seth, and made inappropriate comments about people we did not know. Actually, the wedding itself was enjoyable. This was due almost entirely to the lack of dancing at the reception. It always amazes me that a newly wedded couple can maintain the composure to dance when all that energy could be more effectively spent if it were put to running. Mark Twain provides the best guidance for one considering nuptials, "Why is it that we rejoice at a wedding and cry at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved." It proved fairly painless, but I'm glad we're done with it. Congratulations to E.B. and Ryan.