Upstate Update

It's an interesting life, this new life in Upstate New York. Here, I have a car for the first time ever, which, as mundane as that might be for many in our great land, is thrilling for me, the lifelong car-deprived New Yorker (as in New York City).

Yesterday I got in my car and drove an hour and half to another upstate city, to visit a friend from childhood with whom I had reconnected via Ubiquitous Social Network while I still lived in the city. We had a nice visit--he showed me around the city and the campus where he teaches, and I stayed overnight in a cozy guest room in his big house. Then this morning I made the drive back, guided by the GPS system I had purchased a few days ago. Driving on the highway is new to me, and nervewracking, but I figure I am never going to get comfortable unless I do it. Changing lanes is especially anxiety provoking. I made it back without incident--but felt very relieved when I pulled off the highway and was suddenly back in the familiar streets of my neighborhood here in Upstate City.

After driving back from visiting with my old friend that I am getting to know again after, oh, forty years or so, I spent the afternoon with a new friend, a young guy (he's maybe 28 or so) who lives in my neighborhood and does odd jobs for people. He has helped me with a few things already--hauling a washing machine into my basement and setting it up, putting together a bathroom cabinet--but he is not always up to helping because he has a bad knee and sometimes he is in a lot of pain.

Today, when I called my handyman friend (lets call him H.) to see if he could help me put up some curtain rod fixtures, he said he was doing okay and could help. I picked up some sandwiches for us at the local sandwich shop, which styles itself a "New York deli." (H. requested a sandwich called "the Bronx Bomber"--but without the peppers.)  He came over with his tools. As soon as we pulled the longest curtain rod, for the bigger window in the living room, out of its package, we saw that it was damaged. I said, "We could go exchange it." H. said, "Or you could go and I could get started." I said, "Yeah, that's a good idea."

I started gathering up the things to return (there was also an extra set of holdbacks I had inadvertently purchased) and H. asked me, "Where are these from anyway?" When I told him the name of the store, he said, "Ooh, watch out for the Beyond part!"

I said, "Yeah, I know, Family Guy." This is a conversation we have had before.

I popped into my car (did I tell you I have a car?) and headed out into the dank and rainy afternoon  to the store with "beyond" in its name, about 15 minutes away.

When I got back, I could see that one of the shimmery cream-colored curtains I had bought was already up, in the narrow window facing towards the front of the house. I had left the radio playing--the NPR station here that I love, and I'm sure they were playing some earnest folky-type music. As I came up the stairs, I could see through the glass-paned door into my second-floor apartment that the TV was on, and I could hear the sounds of football. I have to admit, it was a lot more cheerful than the folky ballads on the radio. I thought, wow, this is nice, it's Sunday and there's football on (which in some way signals normalcy and contentment for me because it reminds me of my father) and there's a guy here fixing things in my apartment.

So that was my day. Just to wind things up in a pleasurable way, I am now going to take myself to bed and read some more of the very lightweight (yet engrossing) mystery I started a couple of days ago. And look forward to admiring my curtains tomorrow in the daylight.