Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I want to park the car, but that's not a real parking space. I want to pull over, double-park along the curb, but I'd be late. First I think he's one of the most affluent homeless guys I've ever seen, four shopping carts filled with what looks like baskets. Then I see they're drums. Three carts are piled high with what looks like African drums, small bongos, assorted other drums. And in the middle is one cart that looks like a homeless guy's cart. This is on Fifth Ave. around 79th St., right near the museum. As I'm stopped for the light here he's counting them, using his finger to point, counting and recounting them.
There's a car driving in front of me, a red car with a US Army sticker on it, and also a Kennedy/Johnson bumper sticker just below the rear window. It looks like it's new, doesn't look weathered at all. It just seems so funny to see this, it makes me think how innocent we were then. Of course this same car, turning into 81st St. to go across the park, tries to get past some other cars and ends up blocking traffic in the other direction.