This day was another one of those remarkable New York City days. I planned a rather ambitious agenda which did not work out as I had hoped. Another plan had to be improvised as the day wore on.
I requested an Access-A-Ride for twelve noon today. I should explain that I am eligible for this service because I have been deemed unstable on my feet and in danger of falling. We all know that elderly people suffer more from falls than any other affliction, so the riding service is important. Well, the van came on time but the driver needed to pick up another rider. The next rider required the van to traverse Central Park and go to the far east side of Manhattan, or way out of the way for my destination. Naturally, I arrived too late at the Fashion Institute of Technology to deposit my gift textile and to return uptown to attend an aerobics class. I was going to return to FIT later in the afternoon to meet a professor there. As it turned out the professor in question was already in the building, so our transaction could be effected on the spot, and once that meeting transpired I would be free for the rest of the day. The meeting with the professor at FIT was entirely rewarding, just to put that event to bed.
I put off eating lunch today since I would count on going to an aerobics class at one-fifteen. So, I was hungry at two o’clock. I asked the students at the entrance of the school where they go for lunch, and they suggested the deli just down the street. In the interest of saving time, I headed from the local deli and ordered my lunch there: a combination of fast food, Korean, Chinese, and Japanese over-the-counter fare. And then I took the 23rd Street crosstown bus to the far West Side. I had time to visit one of my African dealer friends who just arrived with things of interest to me. I bought, in fact, two Ewe textiles, wraparounds made of narrow strip cloths in bands of blue, and three terra cotta heads from the Koma people who once lived in Northern Togo.
I made my way back to Seventh Avenue and 23rd Street to catch the Seventh Avenue subway back home. But I stopped in my favorite coffee shop for a coffee and croissant. I should mention the fact that I had left my little wagon at the coffee shop before going to the African market with a request to put one of the remaining croissants away for my return. At four-thirty in the afternoon I generally have a snack to keep me going for the rest of the day.
I was very tired by this time and wished only to lie down for a while but I had made an appointment with another African dealer for six p.m. I rested only thirty minutes in bed when the doorbell rang. My friend entered and began his line about the excellence of the pieces of African art he was about to show me. The objects were, indeed, of high quality; I had to agree with my friend without getting too enthusiastic. We danced about the quality and costs for a while then settled on a mutually agreed upon figure.
By now it was just past seven o’clock and time for my news program on TV: James Lehrer. I had leftover Chinese fish soup in the fridge; easy to heat up, and a little salad of lettuce and tomatoes. And so the long day ended, as usual, eating while watching the world and local news. I had accomplished a lot this day: made a donation, acquired several objects from Africa including textiles, wood sculpture, and terra cotta figurines. (4/28/08)