i really owe you one (new york city)

Sometimes, when I meet new people in Houston who ask me where I am from, originally, and I tell them that I was raised in New Jersey, there will be a lifting of the eyebrows and a smile followed by, "How lucky to be so close to New York! You must really miss the city!" It used to be that I would feel embarrassed explaining that I never took a bus or train into NYC as a teenager because it was, actually, a couple of hours away and, well, Philadelphia was so much closer -- a matter of minutes. For Texans, especially, a couple of hours drive to a city like New York might seem like nothing, but when you grow up in a tiny little mid-Atlantic state that believes it has a distinct "North" and "South" to it, these hours seem long, and the northern stretch to the city seems far.

This past week, I've been attending a conference in New York and, really, for the first time ever, I've been able to finally check out the city as I've always wanted -- no theater tickets, no shows or concerts, no big plans to have the ultimate city experience. Instead, I've been getting on the subway, getting off in random places, and walking in the bright, sunny Springtime weather: bookstores, coffee shops, bars, parks, vendors, trucks, benches, corners, E train downtown, L train to Brooklyn, Union Square, Christopher St., Avenue A, Chelsea, Nolita, Grand Central Station, Tompkins Square Park; finding a health food store with a juice bar, eating pineapple fried rice with tofu and sunflower seeds, bagels with veggie cream cheese and tomato slices, looking and not buying, late-night cab rides back to the hotel, the cityscape in the window as my nightlight.

I also have had the pleasure of reconnecting with two long-time friends from two very different periods of my life. My friend Gretchen (see post below) who I lived with in Syracuse, and my friend Jama, who I met in Houston (at the much-missed Toopee's Coffee on West Alabama) and worked with in the Queer Artist Collective in the mid-1990s.

It was with a wide sense of time that I got to play catch up with Jama in this unfamiliar city, remembering, as we drank margaritas one night and walked through Brooklyn the next, the mid-90s in a way that made the past seem unbelievable to me -- the intensity of being in Texas' only DIY queer peformance art troupe (ever? yes, ever!); who we were back then, and how pissed off, wounded, and unglued we all were; how we ever managed to get anything done (not to mention done well and with sold-out audiences each night) without any money but with a whole lot of over-inflated egos, dexterity, and ambition; in addition to what has become of us, the QuAC kids (as we were sometimes called); was difficult and astonishing for both of us. Seeing her smile lets me know that it is good to live through your twenties and come into a third decade of existence with a past that dazzles as much as it scares the living daylights out of you.

After our first night of seeing each other, with only a few dollars in my pocket, I got lost on the way back to my hotel. No matter which way I turned, it seemed, the subway I needed was nowhere to be found. It was late -- really late -- and I was really, really tired. The more I wandered, the more confused I became. Wasn't I just at this corner? Wait a minute -- is this Seventh Street or Seventh Avenue? In addition, my ATM card was not working. I was, as they say, shit out of luck. Feeling brave and desperate, I stepped out into the street and hailed a cab. When I got inside, I said, "Hi. I need to get to 53rd and 6th Ave. I only have four dollars in my pocket. Can you take me as far in that direction as possible?" I braced myself for a surly reply to get the hell out of the cab, but, miraculously, the driver said, "Don't worry about it." He raced me all the way to the hotel and smiled as he collected my measly cash. When I climbed out, I touched him on the shoulder and said "Thank you so much. I really owe you one." When I related this story of kindness to Jama's girlfriend, Joann, she said, "Chuck, that is what we call a true New York moment."

Cool.