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Words about the street:
It was so great to be able to look down and see what people were wearing! I finally figured out that foot traffic heading to the left (north) or right (south) on 6th Ave were often going to or from the park. Traffic heading further down 6th, or up and down 57th Street, were probably going to work. Of course, there were also the tourists.
Around the corner from our Hotel entrance–Come to think of it 4 floors directly below by window!– was a homeless man laying against the wall. I passed by him the first couple mornings, and wondered about him. The day of the downpour, and the next day of rain, I didn't see him at all and worried about him. The morning Mike left, there were fewer rain showers, and I saw the man on my walk to the park.
When I got to the street across which was the park, I turned around and walked back to the man. "How are you?" I asked. "Where were you yesterday? I was worried about you." He mumbled something that I couldn't quite make out, but it was clear he had a special place to go for when it rains. "Are you hungry?" I asked him. He said "No" and that he'd already eaten. There was a large brown sack next to him. It seemed to have a To Go cup and maybe a meal or several inside. "Good," I said. It seems you have people who take care of you. What's your name?" He sputtered. I thought he said "Duke" but it was "Deuce." "Nice to meet you Duece. My name's Anna. Take care," I said and that was the last I saw him.
At the airport, on a whim I googled, "Homeless man named Deuce, NYC." Apparently, he is quite famous for surviving incredibly cold weather in Feb 2015, when he was in his 50's. He was made to relocate when they put up a new high rise and he wanted no "assistance". His story highlighted the inequity among the denizens of Billionaire Row.
And then there's the story of the "Everything Must Go" (except furs and coats). The coats and bags were so cute, I couldn't resist. After Mike left, I went in to look. The shop keeper was a rather intense woman, soon to be 71, I learned. She had an accent. I asked where she was from and she made me guess. I guessed wrong: She was from Israel. I sighed and said I tried to go, back in 2023. She commiserated, but then asserted: "We must finish it!" This became the chant: We must finish it! Kill all the terrorists! I told her about my students and friends in Gaza... and she agreed, not the innocents... but then, continued, We must finish it and kill all the terrorists. They are born terrorists. All I could do was throw a hand up, turn, and walk out.
I then went to the MOMA and ate lunch alone in the Terrace Cafe, and had a wonderful time watching people and talking with lovely people.