One of the things I love about traveling outside my native New York is how surprised people are when they find out where I’m from. It’s like when I say, “New York City,” I’m supposed to be snotty or rob them or take my top off and sing show tunes. The really surprised ones say they’ve always wanted to go to New York, and then they remark that it was easy to tell I wasn’t local. Maybe it’s the ethnic curls (albeit enhanced), or the lack of color in my basic black (but not goth) wardrobe. Anyway, like My Cousin Vinny, it would seem I don’t blend.
It’s my opinion that New Yorkers are not exactly rude; there’s just a real edge to their attitude. They have a way of making it seem like they’re doing you a favor by trying to be nice to you. It’s almost a constipated friendliness. Maybe subconsciously they want to show how stressful their lives are, or how stressful the city is. In any event, if you want genuine, if-I-were-a-puppy-I-would-lick-you friendliness, you can’t beat Arizona and New Mexico.
Which is why an antique store in Jerome, Arizona gave me such a kick. Jerome is a very small, former copper mining town in northern Arizona with a population under 500. In recent years, it has become a magnet for tourists due to its thriving artist community and spectacular views. It was while browsing in one of the antique stores there that I spotted a vintage silver spoon bracelet. Since Daughter has a spoon ring she often wears, I thought it might make a nice souvenir to take home for her.
The saleswoman was about thirty years old and looked like Amy Winehouse, with her mane of disheveled, black hair and otherworldly expression. I pointed to the case with the bracelet and asked to see it. Amy stretched her arm into the case and then looked up.
AMY: I can’t reach it.
OSV: Okay. (pause) I’d still like to see it.
She just stared at me, and I broke into a huge, grateful smile because this is the service I have come to know and thrive on back in New York. You have to REALLY want something to be willing to wrestle with that kind of disinterest and laziness.
OSV: I can’t see any markings from here. Is it sterling?
AMY: (her hand still inches from the bracelet) How should I know? It’s under $20. What do you think?
OSV: I’ll take it.
Husband is always trying to interest me in relocating out west after retirement. He cites the mild climate, clean air, and relaxed pace. If we’re in a small town, he makes sure to point out the building that serves as the theater or cultural venue, and reminds me that once we have friends there, it won’t bother us that both the restaurants close at 8:00 p.m. As we were driving around Albuquerque, he called out for my benefit, “Look! They have a Chico’s!” He’s so adorable, and Albuquerque is quite lovely.
But it’s while we’re traveling through deserted canyons and rural mountain areas that he pulls out the hard sell. How peaceful. How deeply submerged in nature and the way man was meant to live. How completely real and almost spiritual. He’ll point to a cabin standing alone in the desert and say, “Imagine the life we could have here, just the two of us.” And I smile at him lovingly and think, “Yup, just you and my dead body.”
With that in mind, Daughter’s Fotos yank us out of the west and Into The Subway
the long wait for the R train
walking the line
subterranean hendrix
what the rain left behind