Computer Issues and NYC

 Well, no sooner did I post that last entry then my old computer melted down.  Blue screen of death.  Done for.  Kaput.

SO this is a new computer.  Better.  Stronger.  Faster. 

Now I'm catching up on emails I couldn't access (like school email) among others.  

During that down time, I went to NYC for a doctor appointment.  While there, Marion J. was kind enough to show me around the Metropolitan Museum and then join me for dinner in Greenwich Village (at a BBQ place that used waaaaay to much salt.)

Food Cart at Twilight

No Avengers?

Short legs

The hotel room was literally at 90 degrees despite me opening both windows to the single digit night air outside.  Sweaty uncomfortable night.  The appointment the next day was for GCS.  The upshot was this: lose 50 pounds and then we'll talk.  They could've said that on the fucking telephone and saved me the time.  

Since I was in the area, I decided to visit the grave of one of my heroines: Harriet Quimby.  She died over fifty years before I was born, yet her story really gripped me.  So much done in such a short life.  So, after a white knuckle drive through some of NYC's less touristy areas, I arrived at Kenisco Cemetery, where many famous people are buried.  

After leaving a purple rose for Harriet, and stopping by to see Lou Gehrig, I turned my car toward State College.  It was a long drive, but at least the weather was better on the way back then the rain I encountered on the way.  I arrived as the sun was setting, and immediately lay down, as my back hurt after all that driving.  

So, do I have any pithy comment or pseudo-wise conclusion after the trip?  After all, I saw some of the greatest works of historical art at the Met, walked the streets of one of the world's greatest cities (during a very cold day), and visited a large cemetery to call upon a heroine.  Well, aside from reflecting on my own mortality, which I always do when visiting a cemetery, I can't say that I do.  Having lived in a city for two years back in the day (84-86) kind of relieved me of the shock and awe of the NYC sights.  Still, I met someone who reads the blog and had a delightful afternoon in her company.  

I suppose that if I really think of it, I stood in front of art and objects over 5,000 years old, and the grave of a woman whose feats should make her extremely famous, but who time has forgotten.  So I suppose history can be fickle, or maybe it's just us.

Be well.