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T-Rex
and the City
From GypsyNester.com
There's passion
on Manhattan. I felt it as soon as I arrived on the island. For
me, a major part of this enthusiasm radiates from my fast-walking,
subway-chasing, black-wearing, taxi-flagging urbanite
daughters. The New York I know is viewed through their eyes
and it is a very youthful place. My 23 year old recently moved in
to her first studio apartment (all by herself!), so it was decided
I'd stay with her. Between work and school, my 21 year old is fitting
me in where she can. I'm on my own during the day (as a matter of
fact, I'm sitting in a Starbucks with my laptop, just for the experience.
Very civilized.) and at night, we go out. I have to say I'm a bit
flattered that 23 feels she can drag this old T-Rex around everywhere
she goes. But, apparently, this dinosaur can hang.
First it was
off to Splash (holy crap, it’s a NYC
gay bar!) for Musical Monday and a co-worker's birthday party.
I like musicals as much as the next guy, but I have to say that
walking into a huge space with wall to wall video monitors featuring
obscure song and dance numbers initially took me aback. But as
luck would have it, the DJ was masterful--he spun those show tunes
in a way that no one could possibly deny the sing-a-long fever
(I, proudly, was the only one in our group who knew all the words
to “Age of Aquarius“--singing enthusiastically while
the musical Hair played around me in its embarrassingly dated
way).
One would
think that being in a group of mostly men that you would get to
sing the “Sandy” parts from Grease, but your thinking
would be wrong. Whether it be Sandy, Evita, or even Cossette,
any girl will be outdone by the men in Splash--these are seasoned
professionals, ladies.
23’s
friends are fantastic--the proper mix of “I can’t believe
you’re 23’s mom--you look better than I do” (I
had stepped into some good lighting) and “What musical is
this song from?” when anything black & white showed up
on the screen.
The next night
23 and I found ourselves at The Mercury Lounge for a concert.
23 had thoughtfully e-mailed me sound files and a link to the
artist’s My Space page in preparation for my trip. I was
ready--a true Eric Hutchinson fan if there ever was one. We arrived
and pushed our way up to the bar in the front room. Trying to
be hip, I opted not to order coffee and chose red
wine (I know, also not hip, but--hey--it’s the best I
can do and it was surprisingly hearty, warm and delicious). I
had been literally walking
all day--taking in the City--and couldn’t wait to take
my wine to a table, take a load off and enjoy some good music.
I followed
23 into the showroom and --bloody ‘ell-- NO TABLES. Oh yeah,
I remember this now--the days of a big, dark room; lots of sweat
and energy. And. No. Flippin. Tables. The blister
on the back of my right foot toggled between whimpering for clemency
and screaming for mercy. This was not good.
Thankfully,
this Eric Hutchinson guy really delivered. By the second song
Mr. Blister was all but forgotten. I was loving being in a mass
of happy, swaying bodies and taking up my old hobby of watching
groupies. It's sad, but I had let myself forget the fun of
it.
21, on the
one night she was free to let loose with dino-mommy, decided on
a comedy club. We arrived at the Laugh
Lounge at 10:30 PM on a Friday. The college kids at the big
table (YES! Tables!) in the corner were well
lubricated and ready to rock. The place was packed and filled
with energy. Several comics took the stage, each one a bit more
risqué than the next.
It's a subtle
thing, but there is that moment when you find that you are capable
of having true adult-to-adult experiences with your grown children.
For 21 and I, it wasn't your typical teary-eyed mother-daughter
Hallmark card moment. It was laughing together in a dark comedy
club at off-color "microphone as penis" humor--finding
that the embarrassment we were feeling wasn't because the other
was in the room, but that embarrassment that all adults feel when
they are hysterically laughing at something they should be shocked
at. Not exactly a Hallmark
commercial, but I'll take it.
Veronica, GypsyNester.com
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