Gotta Find My Corner of the Sky

Shit. Two weeks since my last entry. However well-intentioned I am when it comes to writing, it seems life just can't resist interfering with my plans. These days I'm busier than the lone straight man at a cheerleading convention.

Many of you (particularly my friends and family in New York) may have read news reports a few weeks back regarding this brave fellow:

(Read accompanying article here.)

What the majority of you, I'm sure, don't know (and may be amused to learn) is that Mr. Half-Naked Astor Place Traffic Light Fixutre is also (drumroll, please...) the same bombastic young man who escorted me so many decades ago to our high school's senior prom.

Behold:

Eric moved to New York several years before I did and insisted I call him when I arrived in town, which I did. Despite having a crapload of mutual friends (one of whom tipped me off to his identity as unclothed protestor after hearing that his mother not only posted bail but applauded his actions), Eric and I have rarely talked over the past few years. In fact, one of my last encounters with him was an exercise in tolerance: I was having dinner with a group of friends at an East Village Mexican restaurant. Sometime into our second round of margaritas, we became aware of obnoxious chattering coming from the next table. Because of the high-walled booths, we could not see the party causing such ruckus. That is, until they got up to leave. It was Eric, our high school's Pippin, older brother in tow. We said our hellos (mine: warm, his: loud) and he departed, returning the grateful restaurant to a more civilized hush the instant he stepped out the door. I turned to my friends, blushing and apologetic that I'd be associated with someone so beyond the pale.

Later that evening, I ran into Eric and Ben standing on a side street, where Eric's animated dialogue bounced between brick buildings and could be heard hundreds of feet away. I empathized with the block's residents, who--though accustomed to sirens, barking dogs and delivery trucks--had likely never been exposed to the unbridled enthusiasm that is Eric.