9.03.2004

September Song (aka How Miss Fancypants Took On Hot Buttered Beef . . . And Lived to Tell)

Last night, for a glinting moment, I got to peek into the 'other' New York: the one that is serving cocktails way up high, far above the other rooftops, where you can look out on the huge orange sun setting slowly, slowly as the sky turns pink, the lights in Jersey office buildings come up, and the air suddenly becomes dusky and cool. In this New York, jazz is playing very quietly in the background and trails off, loop-de-looping in the breeze. Glasses clink. Packs of well-dressed young men erupt in a collective dirty-minded chuckle and quiet down again. Packs of shiny-hair women sashay off to the restroom, heels tick-ticking on the tile floor.

Of course, I had to sneak in. No matter. My conspirator and I were treated to a spectacular skyline, went for a dip in a pristine art deco pool, sipped iced tea, and smoked (just one) in leisure.

This is the era of life I'm calling Payback. Acts of faith and daring are being rewarded with friendship and love. I've seen more natural beauty in the past week than I have all year. I can still feel the cold tide of Fire Island rushing over my feet and pulling out fast, shells clattering at my heels. I can still see the bright moon hovering over black water and feel my toes plunge into deep, cool sand step after step. I can still taste the steak from last night saturated with butter and fresh herbs. Yes, I mean that literally (urp). But I don't care. Mmm, Pastis, you woo me with red meat and red wine. What can I do but yield?

Glamour exists only in the imagination, a merging of pure fancy with the means to sculpt an image. Romance, too, is imaginary: fancy, mingled with the mystery of lust, applying itself gingerly to the realities of daily life. Love is when the imagined becomes real, and marks your heart for good.

In the course of a week I will have seen all my family. I will have gotten to play with both nephews and my niece! I had a chance to visit the old neighborhood where my parents grew up, walk streets my mom walked when she was pregnant with me, sit in the park I played in when I was little, and remember my grandparents, who lived there till the end of their life. Almost everyone I loved from that time is gone. New people have come. My heart is marked. My heart is hopeful.

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