The littlest big city in the world

Some people hate New York City. They find it cold and unwelcoming, overwhelming and intimidating, maybe even scary. I, on the other hand, just spent five days there, and my time was chock-full of happy accidents. It started when my flight arrived a full hour early, which allowed me to get to where I was staying in Brooklyn in plenty of time for dinner and gossip with my hostess, and it just got better from there.

I stumbled on a food cart in Midtown that serves excellent tamales for $1.50 each.

I found a cashmere hoodie in a thrift store for twelve bucks.

I met one of my favorite editors in person, walked into her office with no story ideas, but walked out with two assignments and the distinct possibility of a third.

I randomly encountered two Gutenberg Bibles in as many days.

I had a great subway conversation with a German man who lives in London and is making a documentary about a group of black lesbian rappers from Tampa.

I discovered shortly before arriving that I was going to be in town at the same time as the New York Pen Show, and learned the day after I arrived that I would be in town on one of the few days each year that both Marble Cemeteries are open to the public, and I managed to make time for both.

I walked into one of the cemeteries and someone said my name. it was a friend I originally met in San Francisco years ago who had no idea I was going to be on the Lower East Side that day.

I discovered that another friend lives right around the corner from the other cemetery — as in, I called her from there, and she waved a window squeegee on a long handle over the wall to show me where she was, and I walked around the corner to meet her.

I discovered that the Met is open late on Saturday nights, with a bar and live music, and in rambling through it, I found an entire room of Renaissance art I’d somehow never seen before. Then I had prosecco and listened to classical music.

And this morning, when I went out to get coffee before heading to the airport, I bypassed the place with the long line and discovered that the place across the street, which was empty, had much better coffee and friendlier dogs.

Of course, I enjoyed some planned pleasures, too: meeting friends I hadn’t seen in a while, seeing a long-planned taping of the Daily Show, eating a corned beef sandwich the size of my head… But for me, the magic of New York is that anything could happen, and probably will, and that I’ll accept it when it does.  I need to figure out how to bring that magic home to my everyday life.

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