I began today blogging about yesterday, then researched an important part of travel: finding a laundromat. I then located a grocery store (they're on every corner) and splurged on today's dinner fixin's, rode the subway to Grant's Tomb, hopped on the Gray Line tour bus for the 3rd day of my four days pass. I was the only sight seer on board so the guide sat down and said, "Either I can talk to you or you can talk to me. Talk to me.''
I told him I'm from Seattle, that my wife recently passed away, and that I was in NYC to visit the place of my birth, Staten Island. I also explained I am trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life and that I planned to explore New York's world of art. He said he was an artist and that he did caricatures.
I told him "I draw caricatures." To prove it I fumbled in my phone and tablet looking for the picture of me drawing my cousin's grandson. I couldn't find it. But he gave me his business card and I will send him proof.
The bus driver then swung by Yankee Stadium but sadly the import of that hallowed ground was lost on this professional athletics philistine.
I then hopped on another Gray Line headed through Harlem again. I loved seeing the Apollo, former home of the Cotton Club, and buildings dedicated to Malcolm X, William Sloan Coffin, and even Bill Clinton has an office in Harlem. I often told Vicki that if i had a time machine I'd like to be a black saxaphone player in Harlem in the 30s, during the height of the Harlem renassaince. I hummed Fats Waller, Count Bassie, Sonny Rawlins, and Duke Ellington tunes all afternoon.
Frustrated by the full storage on my phone and tablet I found an electronics store (there really is eveything you need within a one block radius of where ever you are in NYC) and bought two new micro SD cards. Then hopped the subway to the southern tip of Manhatten to hop the Staten Island ferry. That excursion deserves its own blog post. Stay tuned.
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