‘A New York City Christmas’
I used to go to NYC at Christmas.
Would fly up to Philly to stay with Renee and Terry.
Renee and I would take the train to Grand Central to meet Uncle Bobby.
He’d take us around town and buy us a nice lunch someplace.
I also got to go to the city with her and Terry and her parents. They made reservations at Carmine’s every year.
That’s her dad in the background of the first pic. At the Bux where they spelled my name “Don” and I’m shocked since they called me “DoRn.”
When Renee decided to unfriend me in real life and on Facebook, I mailed a super expensive baby gift that I’d been planning to take to her. And that was the end of it.
I did get to NYC on my way to Vermont. And again on my way to Pittsburgh. But other than spending a lot of time at Newark, Laguardia and JFK, I wouldn’t say it was an actual NYC trip.
This year, I had an invite from Matt to come to a charity gala on Wall Street, my imagined second home.
And I surprised myself more than anyone by saying what is money, really? The Fed will print more and I’ll make more.
As luck would have it, I arrived the morning the insurance CEO got shot. I also got there for the Rockefeller tree lighting.
“Let’s gather round the Big Tree
All you strangers who know me.”
The Backstreet Boys were the headliner. I think it was 2007 that Taylor Swift headlined, but I was too cold to care what was playing over the sound of my teeth chattering.
That’s because it was NYC’s coldest night AND first snowfall. Which reminded me of “All Too Well,” so, same thing.
“And in the city’s barren cold
I still remember the first fall of snow
How it glistened as it fell
I remember it all too well.”
The next night was the NYSE tree lighting. Which I missed because I had gotten a ticket to “The Notebook” at the Schoenfeld.
Which I stumbled out of, sobbing because the play was SO GOOD … and stumbled right into Junior’s Cheesecake.
The last time I was at the Times Square location, I was eating brunch and Bobby Flay’s people came to have me sign a release.
Bobby was going to be filming there that morning. So, in case I was captured devouring my eggs, they needed my consent.
Which of course I gave.
I never did see that episode, so who knows if they ever captured me or not.
Mom and I went to Junior’s a lot when it opened in Boca Raton. She loved cherry cheesecake from there. Kadie loved it, too.
Kadie used to always “ask” for cheesecake and whipped cream. Waity Kadie. Very patient, before she devoured it.
Junior’s didn’t make it through the pandemic down in Boca. So I absolutely walked my fat ass in there and bought a giant piece of pumpkin cheesecake.
And like my baby, I devoured it after I paid my $40 cab fare back to Stone Street.
I have a lot more to write about my December. But I’m emotionally fraught and shot.
I may never get around to it. Plus I just got back from Christmas at Magic Kingdom and Epcot.
I did the Festival of the Holidays and the Holiday Cookie Stroll, eating cookies around the world.
And drinking around the world.
So much drinking. Had a few of these.
Drinking and riding was more fun with Matt, Tera and Rachel.
But how wonderful it was to get to see them again in NYC.
Tera:
Tara and the guy who wouldn’t leave her alone:
I didn’t get a pic of Mike, but that’s a story for a rainy day. He paid like eight grand for a happy hour in the silent auction. Let’s just say he liked me and I am invited.
Anyway.
This would all be so harder if I were poor. Or didn’t have three credit cards to earn rewards on.
Either way, if I had no way of affording to get off the couch, I would have been “Somewhere in Time”-d by now.
What I will say about the past six months since I lost my mom is this …
I’ve blown every dime and cried every tear.
That was me crying/freezing on the street post-Notebook. At least Oscar Wilde (the bar and the statue) made me smile.
Did I get us into a private event at one of Taylor Swift’s favorite bars?
You bet I fucking did.
I also had a better Christmas than I envisioned or deserved.
I may never walk Cornelia Street again. But …
I can still see it all (in my head)
Back and forth from New York (sneaking in your bed)
I once believed love would be (burning red)
But it’s golden
Like daylight
I wouldn’t say there’s anything resembling daylight in my life. At least, not unless it’s in the sense that night always comes.
When I got home yesterday, I saw my neighbor I was kinda sorta not really with who was mad I didn’t tell him Mom passed. Which I didn’t even confirm.
I treated Kelly to pumpkin spice hot cocoa at Max Brenner. Which Uncle Bobby had taken Renee and me to. Cheers, Uncle Bobby! Quality human. Unlike everyone else.
Like Tommy (what is it with these Italians who keep the “y” at their age?!), who stuck his nose in the air and said a flippant, “Hi.”
I was actually like, “Hiii!” like I saw a part of my past I remembered fondly.
Then I remembered I hated him because he was rude to my mom and Cocoa. And, well, fuck that.
My cousin gave me my Cocoapotamus for Christmas.
I was telling Kelly, who was in NYC with me and also Disney, everything else now seems so “mid.”
The people, the events, the food the Christmas lights in NYC were all so big and bright and fun and delicious and memorable.
And now to come back to FL where everyone and everything is half the size and people/places have about a third of the class … fuckin’ MID.
Sand tree? Meh. Kravis Center? Enh. Food? Fugheddabout it.
She pointed out we aren’t terribly rich or cultured and even we aren’t impressed with this place. Imagine if we were one, the other or both.
And so, it’s our New Year’s intention to elevate further.
We’ll just have to endure a lot more mid while we save up for more things that are actually spectacular.
Like France and not just the France Pavilion. Though that was pretty awesome too.