The Melvins of old European art

Monday, November 28^th, 2016

New York, New York

It’s 6:30am and the neighbor's cat is body slamming the outside of Sarah’s window. Ugh, this cat is aggressive. I feel for the window with one hand and slide it open. A cold, wet cat comes bounding through and immediately starts begging to be let into the hallway. I abide. 

Around 7am Sarah starts the Dunkin Donuts coffee. She quickly gets ready for work and leaves me with half a pot of coffee and a promise to meet up later for dinner in Queens. I enjoy a lazy morning filled with some work from the office and opening doors and windows for the neighbor’s cat. I spend a solid 30 minutes on Yelp picking out a place for brunch. I finally settle on Concord Hill. It’s close and has good reviews. I want to avoid restaurants with great reviews, since I am not interested in waiting for a table. 

The restaurant is tiny and completely empty. Oh well, I’m staying. I get amazing service from an overzealous waiter. My meal consists of eggs, sausage, bacon, toast and coffee. It’s delicious but my new waiter friend gives me a lot of trouble for not eating the toast. 

After breakfast I decide to try using the subway. There is one train that will take me from Brooklyn to the Met. I find the train stop and the correct line but can not figure out which direction to go. This is way more confusing than I thought it would be! I make a guess and quickly deduce that I guessed wrong. I get off at the next stop and have to re-enter the turnstile. Apparently it’s been such a short amount of time since I last entered a turnstile that the system has frozen my card. I have to go find the station lady to give me a new one. After another 10 minutes of standing on the freezing platform, I board the correct train. Ugh, New York life is rough.  

Eventually I make it to 86th street and successfully exit the station near the Met. I wander into the lobby and happily pay the suggested admission price of $25. I check my coat and I am off! 

I start out by the medieval art and wander around some collections of very old objects. Eventually, I make it through the art of Rome, then Africa, then Egypt. This place is definitely comprehensive. I spend most of my time in the American and Modern Art rooms. 

I make a point to visit two of the special exhibits before leaving. The first one is on an artist named Valentin De Boulogne. As it turns out, Valentin was never very famous but ended up influencing a lot of other people. I guess he’s kind of like the Melvins of old European art. The next special exhibit is focused on the art of Jerusalem. This one is much more comprehensive and definitely more crowded. Even though my feet are starting to hurt again, I walk through the entire exhibit and read almost all of the information cards. I end up learning a lot and am happy that I pushed through. 

By now I am exhausted and starving. I stop at a hot dog cart outside of the Met and enjoy some good, old fashioned New York street food. After a short walk through the incredibly picturesque Central Park I brave the subway to get back to Sarah’s. Somehow I am successful and am back in time to make a few phone calls for work and be ready for dinner. 

Soon Sarah arrives home from work. I immediately bombard her with a step by step recollection of my day. She assures me that everyone has difficultly with the subway, at first. 

We take a few minutes to pack up a little bit more for the Queens apartment and take another Uber over to her new apartment. After a quick drop off, we walk over to SoleLuna for long, good Italian dinner. The wine-by-the-glass list is awesome and we both get exactly what we want. The restaurant is pretty empty, but I can not figure out why; the food is amazing. 

After dinner we walk over to Maggie Mae’s and order a round of cocktails. The bar is pretty empty, but I can still tell that it’s a place for locals. After our night cap, we head over to the train station to get back to Brooklyn. The view of Sunnyside from the platform is totally awesome. Rows of brick buildings are lit up by thousands of Christmas lights. I really like this neighborhood. 

Once we are back in Brooklyn, we still have a 20 minute walk back to Sarah’s house. It’s getting pretty cold and we are walking quickly. About one and a half blocks from Sarah’s I make a wrong step and feel my ankle snap. Oh fuck, it hurts. Multiple groups of people are standing outside on their front porches. I try real hard not to make a scene as I hobble back into Sarah's brownstone. 

Once we are inside, I assure Sarah that everything is fine. I let her have bathroom access first, and when I eventually take off my shoe and sock I see that my ankle is the size of grapefruit. Shit. 

I complete the rest of my evening routine on one foot. It’s my turn to sleep on the couch and I elevate my foot on a couch cushion and stare at the ceiling in a complete state of panic as to how I am going to get on my super early flight back and then back to my house in LA on one foot. Eventually I drift to sleep.