Spending a few days in New York City
I hadn’t been to New York City in something like ten years; not since my family took a short trip there. My parents, for whatever reasons, have always had a very different idea of vacation than I have. Their vacations involve waking up early every single day in order to take advantage of the (usually) free hotel breakfast, and then tearing off to parts unknown in order to cross off as many things on a To Do list as possible. Sometimes I feel as though I’m Neil Armstrong on the surface of the moon, carefully examining a lovely geological specimen, while Buzz Aldrin is waving frantically behind me and calling “hurry up, it’s just another damn rock! If we don’t get a move on we’ll never see everything! Look, there’s Central Park! Look at all those trees! No time for lollygagging, let’s move!”
That’s not entirely fair, but it is fair to say that compared to family vacations past, my few days in NYC were spent in pursuit of the anti-vacation. I slept in, I usually skipped breakfast, I had a list of things I might want to do but no set schedule or itinerary or anything like that. It was bliss. My trip to New York had several purposes: to explore a city, to catch up with old friends, and to meet some new ones. On all fronts, mission accomplished.
I don’t have a lot of stories to tell or a lot of pictures to share, but there’s not a lot about NYC that I could say or photograph that hasn’t been said or photographed before, better, by someone else. Case in point:
