Category: 5th Avenue

I Marched.. Now Back to Monday

On Sunday I had my fun day on New York City’s 5th Avenue marching in the parade. This dress is from the Greek nomads known as the Sarakatsani. I like this costume because it’s very different than many others, and there are plenty of layers to ward off some of the cold.

And man, was it cold!  The Greek Independence Day Parade saw sunny, but cold and windy weather as the backdrop. Painfully cold! As our group waited to step off 64th Street to march we had to endure an hour of side street winds. The little kids were so cold their teeth were chattering, their bodies were shivering and every time a strong wind blew they screamed. So did the adults. Thankfully the sun was shining on the avenue. Marching was ten times better than standing in one place waiting.

The Evones marched in formation, tall and strong, at the start of the parade. The National Guards of Greece are amazing to see in Athens when they perform the changing of the guards, but to see them out of their element here in NYC was great. I was able to watch what I could of them because soon after that our group had to line up and be ready to go.
I was lucky to get a couple of pictures at the start and at the end of marching. My fingers were stiff from the cold and I could barely move them to hold the camera and push the button. The parade began at the Pierre Hotel on 62nd Street and extended to 80th Street, near the Metropolitan Museum of Art where we stopped to take a group photo. It was a nice walk at a good pace so it really didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. If it wasn’t so windy the day would have been perfect, but I was glad to march again.
And now, it’s back to Monday.

M.I.A in Manhattan

Yes, I know.  I was M.I.A on Monday.  Missing In Action.  Actually I was in action, in movement, on the road.  This time my sister’s back went out and as she was unable to drive her car to get back to her apartment in New York City,  I drove her there on Monday.  So, it sort of was and sort of wasn’t an adventure.

Every time I go to Manhattan I call it an adventure.  It ‘s no big deal to go there, I just make it seem like that.  I make believe I’m doing some big thing, but I’m really not.  I’m used to the city.  I worked there as a paste-up artist years ago downtown in the 20’s and 5th Avenue.

When we were kids my mother took us into the city plenty of times. She grew up in Manhattan on Columbus Avenue on the West Side.  We lived just across the Queens Borough Bridge in Astoria and Manhattan was a bus ride over the bridge for us.  Our mom didn’t want us to be country bumpkins and not know how to navigate the city.  We had to dress well to visit, or to shop, or to go to the theater.  No one was wearing dungarees to Manhattan in the 1960’s!  Dungarees, aka jeans, were for weekend wear at home with comfy shoes and a sweater. 

Now when we go to the city my mom always remarks on how everyone in the city is dressed like a slob! Here and there you see some high society people, but even they’re not dressed to the nines.  What is everyone doing with their expensive designer clothes and shoes?  Most times the fancy people are dressed in rags and some regular schmoes are wearing Chanel on the street!  East side, west side, doesn’t matter.  Even on 5th Avenue or Madison Avenue, no one is really dressed like my mom was used to doing.  That time is over!

So anyway, I drove my sister to the West Side for her appointment, which took three hours.  But he’s a great chiropractor, so we didn’t care how long it took.  When we were done I dropped her off at her building and drove around for a half hour to find a place to park my Mountaineer.  Yeah, don’t worry.  Everyone in Manhattan is driving an S.U.V!  Why?  Who knows?  More trucks than Audis, BMW’s or Mercedes on the East side.  Park a truck in a garage and you have to pay extra!  I had to find street parking.

I found a spot, noted where I parked and walked a couple of blocks back to the apartment building.  The air was crisp, the sun high and warm, and I had an overall good feeling.  A free kind of feeling.  No agenda, nothing else to do, just a wonderful walk alone.  Head and eyes up and alert, but comfortable.

That’s a good kind of adventure for me.