I’m just back from New York City, where Bill and I spent five days taking a break from the “same old, same old.”  It’s been a tough couple of weeks for Bill, especially. His computer crashed with the play he’d been revising for an upcoming spring staged reading here in Charlottesville and another reading in New York City in May at the Dramatist Guild.  There is, however, a new computer in the works and the techies who are transfering data to the new robotic brain believe that the script and other files of value came through without a hitch.  We’ll know for sure tomorrow.

I’ve not been to the city this close to Christmas since I was a little kid, living on Long Island.  On several occasions my dad took my brothers and me into the city to shop at Macy’s for Christmas gifts.  I remember it as lots of fun.  My brothers sat on Santa’s lap, while I checked out the latest lipstick shades, picking one I thought would look good on my mother.  We ate lots of chocolate and candy canes, while we looked for those special trinkets we’d wrap and put under the tree, emptying the piggy banks that we’d stuffed all year long with allowances.

After this trip I’ve promised myself I won’t return again this close to Christmas and Hanukkah.  The Streets and sidewalks were jammed with shoppers and tourists from all over the world.  New York is an international city where languages from around the world can be heard, especially at this time of year. I was overwhelmed by the walls of people heading in my direction. Listening carefully, I realized I was not alone with my panic. As we passed one vacant doorway, I overheard a man telling his wife that they would just stay put until there was a break in the crowd.  A while later, a young woman rushed by, pulling her boyfriend along, who was pleading, “Please get me out of here.  I can’t do this.”

We saw three broadway shows, two of which I thought were good, but still nothing that inspired me.  We also took in three movies, the best of which was, St. Vincent, with Bill Murray, which was delightful and whose main character I could relate to.  We also saw, Citizenfour and Whiplash. Though both are great movies and award material, their serious nature left me feeling a bit raw.

We also went to the Tenement Museum in lower Manhattan where we took a 90 minute tour of one of the buildings the museum has redone, where I got a glimpse into what living arrangements were probably like for my grandparents, who came to the States from Poland in the early 1900’s. I look forward to going back some day to do the museum’s food tasting tour which sounds quite yummy.

I was whisked away into the whirl wind of city life, but am so happy to be home again. When our train pulled into Charlottesville on our return, we both joyfully realized that going away is what one needs in order to understand that coming home to the “same old, same old,” is where we really want to be.