In the spirit of revisiting all our old haunts, we took another trip to the High Line, Manhattan’s newest park, built on an old elevated freight train track near the Hudson River, in the Meatpacking District. It was crowded as heck, this being the Friday before Labor Day weekend: meatpacking indeed. We hadn’t been here since a rainy day back in 2011, when we were practically the only ones in sight. That was fun, too, but this was better.
Out and about, mixing and mingling, and nary a hostile nor a creepy stare to be found. What a day! Not only did we get popsicles, but the guy running the popsicle stand knew all about us, was a follower of this very blog. (Hi!)
Before heading up to the High Line we gathered at a more terrestrial haunt, the adorable and minute 14th Street Park, which consists of a single grassy mound surrounded by meticulously maintained foosball tables and folding chairs. Just across the avenue from Chelsea Market, which tempted us to sin with its freshly made miniature doughnuts and red-velvet whoopie pies. Damn it, Chelsea Market, it’s like you want us to wind up in photos with our mouths full and our fingers covered with delicious, delicious cream!
If summer has to exit, this is the way for it to go: sparkling and glorious, sensual and rich, with friendship for all and sweet tastes on the tongue. And instruction for the next generation.
“Mommy, why are they naked?” this little girl asked. “Why don’t you ask them?” the very sensible mother replied. The girl came over, not shy at all. “Why are you naked?” “Because it feels nice,” we explained, and she nodded: made sense to her.
When she’s our age, may she feel comfortable in her body and live in a city that encourages her to.
Happy Summer 2013, everyone.