I stop at stop signs.
And scoff at dresses too short.
And heels too high.
Why are you wearing those heels first thing in the morning anyway?
Is that a girl, or a man?
Why did I just say girl?
So much diversity.
So much androgyny.
Have I been in the suburbs that long?
Leading the kids around town I have to snap my head back to them and make sure they are not grabbing a piece of fruit or stepping off the sidewalk in front of a bus. Because mostly, I'm just gawking. Want to be her. Used to be her. What is he doing? I wonder where's she's going. Totally have.to.get. those. shoes! Aw. I wonder what else they are dealing with.
Luckily I drive in and out of town, so this gives me a chance to sit back and relax and actually enjoy my surroundings for a few minutes. On my way out yesterday, the kids were exhausted and my daughter asked for some "soft" music to calm her down from having to say goodbye to Grandma. So I put on the classical station. [totally do this all the time, am an awesome music mama]
And as the kids drifted off and I headed cross-town, this became my soundtrack to my drive. I started seeing people as members of a symphony, and each one of them acting as a line in the music. This one is bumbling along, that one is pitter-patter-ing down the subway steps. Oh she is mad. She must be the trumpet.
And as luck would have it, a street vendor was actually selling a bubble machine. Seriously? A bubble machine. And bubbles started to fill the air. Some people were laughing...some were annoyed...and it flowed right across 8th Avenue. I got a beep behind me because I didn't immediately jump on the gas when the light turned green. It was awesome. It was like, out of a movie.
My walk through the slushy snow on the way to work,
Peering through my window at the drummer in the apartment across the street,
Watching performers tear through tourists in Times Square,
Setting a baby down on a blanket in Central Park to look above at leaves in the sun.
The music settles.
I hit the tunnel. The Lincoln tunnel, which my daughter now calls her "favorite" (as if she knows any other tunnel.)
The music [satellite radio] stops.