Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Round toes of the High Shoes of Old Friends

On Sunday my newspaper carrier made a mistake. Instead of leaving me the Sunday Seattle Times, he left the Sunday NEW YORK TIMES!! I did not call to inform him of his mistake.

Instead, I sat down with the same glorious anticipation I experience before a meal at a gourmet restaurant or when dreaming about Kaiden’s celebrated coconut cake. I read something fabulous from every page, marveled at the headlines, the bylines and the photo taglines. Oh the travel section, book reviews, crossword puzzle, theater arts and museums. The society brides, "Coppel Snopple Durham-Grinder" CEO of thus and such. I scoured the ads for couture, jewelry and retirement homes.
While my eyes greedily scanned each section I became vaguely aware that my mind and senses were being transported back through the decades to a time when New York City was a brief train ride away and The New York Times was my daily bread. I could smell the street vendors, hear the cacophony of cabs competing with the disharmony of musicians tuning up for the overture, I could see and feel the steam rising from the streets and sidewalks. Lovely memories of another me in another time. For a few hours on Sunday I felt very smart and cosmopolitan. Thank you delivery guy for making my Sunday! Next week bring me The Economist.

12 comments:

Ralph said...

Love it! So get their "weekender" deal. That way you can read your Sunday Times and have it, too! We've been getting another NY pub, Vanity Fair, for a couple of years now, and we just took the ultimate plunge and subscribed to The New Yorker. I'd been resisting that one literally all my life, and I'm still a bit intimidated by a weekly barrage of must-read, engrossing material. (Don't know when I'll have tome to read anything else!) But it's just too good not to at least try....

Rosaria Williams said...

Soooo soooo glad you stopped by and delivered yourself at sixtyfivewhatnow doorstep. Now, I get to indulge in my favorite new passtime, meeting new friends. Welcome Seattle's Lonely Rivers.

Rosaria Williams said...

I subscribe to The New Yorker, a veritable rich repast.

Dolores said...

Oh how I love it when a smell, reading something or a picture brings back the fond memories of a beloved city.

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

My neighbor (in a home I built and sold to her 8 years ago) a retired professor from the East - gives me her N.Y. Times every week. I read it like you do. Love the travel, book section, weekly news, entertainment and on and on.
For a few hours it transports to a world outside of "the woods"

Deb said...

Fun! Love surprises like that...was tickled by your metaphore, a feast of food and a feast of words! Have you read Hemmingway's Movable Feast?

Helen said...

The New York Times on Sunday mornings - my guilty pleasure!!!

Marion Williams-Bennett said...

I love how you called the NYTimes your "daily bread"!

What a delicious mistake. The writer Anne Lamott says on Sundays she goes to 'pray at the church of the New York Time" and takes the paper into her room and stays there for hours.

This is paper to experience, to be transformed. I read so much online these days, but still find the Sunday NYTimes must be read in paper.

Good luck next Sunday!

Mage said...

Oh, magic. Thanks so much for sharing with us. WOW.

Tabor said...

So you can do the TV ad for the Times!

Pauline said...

Discovered you through the comments on Tabor's blog - it's always exciting to discover a new writer. I've enjoyed perusing your posts :)

Helen said...

Thinking of you today ..