Sunday, June 26, 2011

Experience #16 The Circus

Awe. Wonder. Amazement. The circus has the ability to make even adults feel like children again. Barnum and Baily’s 200 Spectacular certainly delivered on their promise of a spectacular performance. The acrobatic feats were jaw dropping and the stunts bordered on insane. There were elephants, tigers, and clowns (oh, my.)

My favorite, and what has always been my favorite, is the tight rope walkers. When I was a child, I’d watch the circus on television and wish to be able to balance delicately above an audience and swing through the air to feel the sensation of flying. Flying has always appealed to me (of course, it doesn’t entirely go along with that phobia I have of falling from high places.)

After the walkers performed, my daughter turned to me and said she wanted to do that when she was older. I had to smile (though for a split second I worried about how many stitches she’d have if she attempted anything like that at home.) Hadn’t I been her age when I first wanted to soar through the air?

The two times I’d gone to a circus as a child, it had been to small ones nowhere near the grand scale performed in the arena. At both of those events, the air flyers had not been part of the act. When I saw the advertisement for the circus, I immediately thought back to watching the acrobatic flyers on television when I was a child. And though it had not been written on this year’s list, I immediately thought of it as an addition.

Of course, my son’s favorite act was the seven dirt bikes racing around inside a metal ball and not colliding. If he decides to attempt a stunt like that at any age, I will probably experience a heart attack (so not on my list of experiences.)

It was a fantastic experience. As I near the half way mark on my list of experiences, I realize that I want to continue doing this for a long time to come. I may be writing a new list every year.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Experience #15 Broadway and New York Continued

On the third night of our trip, we had tickets to watch Wicked at the Gershwin theatre on Broadway. Seeing a Broadway show was one of the original thirty-three items on my list (though someone told me it was cheating doing two items on my list together.) I hadn’t paid too much attention to the particulars of the musical; I had heard that it was supposed to be real good and that was enough for me. Katie played music from the musical during the afternoon and belted out the songs, warning us that she may continue her performance during the actual performance.

I glanced over at a her a few times to check if she was singing, but otherwise I was riveted by the actual performance, leaning forward in my seat for the entire show. I was sad to see it end. I had never watched a musical live and nothing can compare to seeing this show performed live. Though I’d wanted to read the novel before I saw the musical, time had run out before the start of the trip. However, I downloaded the novel while still in New York to read on the trip home.



As I’m nearly finished the novel now, it strikes me at how someone can read a novel and envision the story as something entirely different. Though the novel is excellent, I feel as though I’m reading a different story entirely about the same characters, as if two narrators witnessed the story and each has a completely different perspective to share with me. My favorite is definitely the musical (I will have to retract my statement about liking the books more than the movies in all cases, but then again, maybe I won’t count it since it is technically a musical.)

My trip did not end there. Sunday we walked and walked and walked. (I decided I needed to add incline walking to my exercise routine since my legs were so sore I walked like an old woman after sitting too long.) We had brunch at Sara Beth’s, shopping, dessert at Serendipity, more shopping, and more walking.

Monday began a two day bus tour on a quest to see the various places that compose New York City. Besides from Harlem, Brooklyn, China town, uptown, downtown, and everywhere in between, I also witnessed the New York City tour guide. Everyone really is in show business, including your local neighborhood tour guide. On our tour of Brooklyn, we were serenaded with show toons by our tour guide who readily admitted that he was auditioning for parts on Broadway and had once performed there as well. Another tour guide fired off joke after joke as he rehearsed for his standup comedy routine. The least likable of our guides lectured us on the reasons we should give good tips to our guides and our drivers. He went as far as to tell us that our change was only good at the airport.

On the last leg of our bus tour, Donna had a Lucy moment and could not cease laughing as a kind, older gentleman wrapped her up in a poncho. As strangers turned to stare at us and see what the uncontrollable laughter was about, I had a moment where I wished that I could disappear inside my own poncho. I could laugh though, knowing that one day I will use that moment in a story, and I will be perfectly capable of describing what it feels like for everyone on a bus to think you are with a crazy person.

Our last day of seeing the city, we journeyed to the Statue of Liberty. One really does expect it to be this looming fixture over the city. In fact, on the flight into the city, I’d searched below to find it. (At this time, Donna had not been enjoying her motion sickness and had looked as if I continued rambling on, she might just lose it. So I’d looked out the plane window instead, but not too close since she also had the window seat.)

There was an incident as we returned to the ferry from viewing the statue. After being made to abandon the dock where we’d lined up to board on our return journey, the Harbor Patrol searched the ferry with the dogs. Rumors abounded throughout the crowd as to what they searched for with no actual facts being divulged. (The incident did provide excellent story ideas though.)

The journey to the airport that returned us to Louisiana was far less eventful. Donna did not enjoy our high-speed, swerving cab ride to the airport. But all I could say was that I’ve ridden with people who have driven worse. I’m not sure that speaks highly of my judgment about who I get in a vehicle with.

It was a wonderful first visit to New York City. I took in many of the sights, including the Empire State building, the Statue of Liberty, and the stores. I already know what I want to do on my return to the city because you just can’t do it once.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Experience #14 New York City

For my entire life, my dream has been to live in New York City. At thirteen, I had it all planned out. I would live in this high rise apartment, work this fancy job that made me famous (what can I say, I was a teenager), and be single for the rest of my life ( I must have known something at thirteen that I forgot later on). With all my expert planning though, I’ve never made it to the city. So when I made my list of thirty three experiences, it took me all of two seconds to add it to my list.

The Adventure Begins

My long overdue trip to New York City began with an airplane ride. I have only flown once, and that occurred thirteen years ago. Riding in an airplane is like riding the Dumbo ride at Disney World. My insides twist and turn on the way up, but settle as soon as we are in the air. All the while I’m in the air though, I dread the decent of the landing. (I must add that Dumbo’s landing is much more graceful.)

On the way to New York at takeoff, my paranoia kicked in when a grinding of gears sounded loudly beneath the plane. I immediately blurted out, “What’s that?”

Donna laughed. “I don’t hear anything. You might hear something, but I don’t hear anything.”

Hmmm…. That sums up our differences. Denial vs. paranoia.

On the way home, I was randomly selected at security to go through special screening. The security guard swiped my hands with what looked like a moist band aide.

Curiosity won out after the initial fear of what kind of special screening I’d have to go through subsided. “What are you checking for?”

“Explosives.”

“Oh,” I said. My mind ran through all the things I’d touched that morning. It wasn’t like I’d touched explosives; I didn’t even like fireworks. But what if something I’d touched caused that test to be positive (Did I mention yet that I’m paranoid?)

“If you didn’t make a bomb this morning, then you don’t have to worry.” He said before nodding that I could go.

I laughed in relief and hauled out of the security section to make sure he didn’t come up with some other test to try.

Lost in New York City, otherwise known as the Harry Potter Exhibit

My first real day in New York City, Donna decided to go to school with her daughter who lives and teaches music at a school in the city. This meant that I was on my own for most of the day. I wasn’t going to waste a day in the city not seeing the sights just because I was alone and had never been in the city.

The two of us got off the subway and exited right on the street that I needed to go to my first sight, the Harry Potter exhibit. She instructed me to go right and that she had to go left. I was thirty minutes early and confident that I could make my way there. I even took a stroll through a three-story Toys-R-Us, feeling assured that I had time to spare and I would have no trouble getting there.

I headed off in search of the Harry Potter exhibit, walking down Forty-Fourth Street, thinking that New York wasn’t much different than New Orleans, just much larger. After the second block, I began to worry that I had passed it up or that I was on the wrong street. I checked the address again, and that’s when I realized that I had been sent in the wrong direction. Just to make sure, I walked to the end of the third block and confirmed that I was walking in the wrong direction. When I finally made it to the Harry Potter exhibit, I realized two things. One was that I only had to walk three hundred feet from the subway station to get to the exhibit, and two was that I needed to purchase a map.
The front of the Harry Potter Exhibit. We were not allowed to take
pictures inside. Otherwise, I would have had a difficult time
choosing a picture.

The exhibit was worth it though. The exhibit contained hundreds of movie props such as costumes, wands, beds from the dormitories, books, classroom items, etc. It was like walking onto the movie set, but it was all the movie sets combined. Most importantly though, the exhibit ended in a gift shop. It was in that gift shop that I had the realization that my son’s love of Harry Potter parephenilla may come because he knows I will never tell him no when Harry Potter is involved. I would have been in an enormous amount of trouble if he would have been there. As it were, I spent an exhoberent amount of money, and he was thrilled when I returned home with his two bags of Harry Potter items.

After I left the exhibit, I stopped in and bought me a map before heading down to Fifth Avenue where I spent the next several hours shopping. My first stop was H&M. I’d wanted to shop there since I first spotted the items in a fashion magazine. I’d gone online, and realized that they didn’t sell their items online nor had any stores in our great state of Louisiana. Of course, that just made me want to shop there even more and to notice how frequently they were mentioned in magazines. I spent at least an hour going through the three floors of the store. I tried on tons of clothes and left with a few new outfits to remember the experience with. I left reluctantly, knowing it would be a long time before I was able to shop there again, but then I proceeded to make up for it by going through all the other stores I recognized on the way. I was loaded down with shopping bags by the time I met back up with Donna and her daughter in Times Square. It was definitely a great first day in New York City.

The trip will continue….. Check back soon.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Experience #13 Relearning to Ride a Bike

When I was about fourteen, my sister and I received these brand-new, white and red ten speed bikes for doing well during the school year on our report cards. Riding bikes was a favorite past time, mostly because everyone on our street did it, but an added perk was we would ride to the front of the street to the snowball stand every day for a snowball. (I absolutely love strawberry shortcake snowballs. I would venture trying a new kind once a summer, but I would usually regret it, wishing I would have stuck to my favorite).

It was on one such trip on this new bike that my canvas shoe got stuck in the spokes of the front tire, and I was thrown head first over the handlebars, skidding to a stop using my wrists and the flesh of my legs. I was pulled from under the bike to assess my injuries, and nearly passed out as I took in my bleeding knees and sprained wrists (I literally almost passed out. Those who know me, know that I did this all the time, or so my mom says when she blames me for her gray hair).

I’m not going to say I never got on a bicycle after that, but it was damn close. I got a new bicycle after that one did not survive the incident, but it rusted in the shed.

Which of course meant that riding a bike had to go on my list because I had put everything else that I’d ever been afraid to try on the list. But I thought I’d wait a bit longer before trying it out. I actually put it down on my 2012 list. (Yes, there is a list for next year. I couldn’t fit it all into one year.) The opportunity to ride a bike arose though, and I went for it because my philosophy this year involves taking advantage of all the opportunities that come my way.

Contrary to that old saying about how it’s just like riding a bike, riding a bike is not so easy to those balance challenged. I thought my balance had improved; I mean I exercise on a BALANCE ball. I was wrong. I’m not sure how my daughter just hopped on her bike and figured out the balance thing on the first try. For six miles I gripped the handle bars, occasionally (Okay, so more than occasionally) veering off coarse as my balance wobbled.

How did I do it as a child? I would consider myself clumsy back then but not at this point in my life.

It is good exercise though, and by the end of it I didn’t look worse than my six-year-old learning to ride her bike. I didn’t wobble so much, and I could actually glance to the side without the bike veering suddenly off course.

I’m not saying I was ready to go again the next day. Bikes really need to work on having more comfortable seats for one’s butt, but I can no longer say I haven’t been on a bike in seventeen years. It is one more experience that I can mark off my list, as the list dwindles down.