I never craved marriage. As a kid, the marriages around me didn’t seem like something to hope for. To aspire to.
As I remember it, my parents fought (a lot).
Twenty-five pairs of eyes stare back at me.
A young man in front asks question after question, all of which sound less like questions and more like statements meant to make him seem smarter than the instructor.
The instructor who is me.
I have taken on a new project recently teaching a class at a local university. For obvious reasons, I can’t share too many details. But I wanted to let you know why I have been posting less than is my normal. Teaching is in addition to my full-time job so I have less free time than usual.
Teaching is a bit outside my comfort zone, but in a good way–at least so far!
For your enjoyment, here’s a pic of me from a pajama party-themed fraternity mixer a gazillion years ago.
If you have any advice for me, I would love to hear it. What made you like and learn from your favorite professors or teachers? Any “what not to do” tips?
Maybe it’s the medicine I’m on since my head injury.
(I googled it after the fact and learned the pill is an old school, tricyclic antidepressant. No wonder I’m so happy!)
This was just the beginning.
My astute friend Liz suggested that we try Root & Bone, the new restaurant Eater had recently proclaimed to have the best fried chicken in NYC. I didn’t need to be persuaded.
The East Village space is tiny and quirky, as is typical for Alphabet City. The restaurant offers two small bars, reserving both for diners not drinkers. Although drinking is suggested too.
We started with drinks (good ones, although I couldn’t tell you what they were and the online cocktail menu isn’t current) and cornbread (eaten before photos could be taken). The latter was served with strawberry peppercorn preserves and clotted cream, and somehow managed to taste both light and rich simultaneously.
In order to sample more of the menu, we ordered the half fried chicken (four pieces) instead of the whole (eight).
The chicken was as spectacularly tasty as reviews have said. Crunchy, juicy, tangy, smoky, wonderful.
We also got cheddar waffles, corn bread, Southern peach caprese salad and grits.
What can I say about the grits? They were fabulous and indulgent in the best possible way. Imagine the best grits you’ve ever eaten and then add fresh sweet corn and pimento cheese.
Of all the dishes, I think the salad of grilled peaches, fried pimento cheese, pickled green tomatoes, basil, heirloom tomatoes and “sticky molasses vinegar” was most interesting. The salad arrived as we were eating the chicken and grits already so it might have gotten short shrift. My goal is to return while all the items are still in season so as to give this salad the attention is deserves.
Even with all of the dishes ordered, there were items we were sorry to miss such as our bar neighbor’s short rib meatloaf with parsnip puree. It’s on my future hit list for sure.
If I were going to skip any dish next time, it would be the waffles. They were good, but I have had the chicken-and-waffles combo elsewhere many times, such as at Sweet Chick. At Root & Bone, the chicken is superb and stands on its own.
We weren’t offered a dessert menu which was fine. Neither of us had room for more food. Maybe next time.
Somehow our meal (including tip!) worked out to just $34 per person. I’m sure Root & Bone will raise its prices over time, but I believe dinner there will still be absolutely worth it.
My Friday started with an MRI.
(You’re probably wondering “how does that qualify as a treat?” Just trust me.)
After I got my head examined, I had to run some other personal errands so I took the day off. It was a beautiful day in NYC – very unlike our typical Augusts – and I was feeling better than I have most days since the concussion. Continue reading
One of the things I love most about life in NYC is the sense that I can never completely know it. There will always be secrets to uncover. Something new replacing something old. Mysteries just down the block.
And here’s one: a beach of sorts right in my neighborhood.
Who knows: maybe in a few more years, we’ll really want to.
My parents, that is. More for the way it sounds, I guess, versus the actual person.
* * *
I have thought, recently, that my life is pretty great, although it would be great if I could stay out of my own way. Broken bones and other minor catastrophes have been interruptions of really happy times.
But for whatever reason, I saw stars this time. And when I tried to tell someone what happened, I couldn’t get the right words from my head to my mouth. And then I cried.
I didn’t go to the hospital or the doctor until Wednesday. They said I have a concussion but no bleeding in my brain (!!) or anything. They told me to rest.
At first, the plot of Law & Order reruns was too much to comprehend. The sun felt too bright. I suddenly needed my glasses to watch TV.
Until Sunday, the worst of my concussion was the dizziness. Oh, and the utter boredom of resting without reading or writing much.
On Sunday my parents visited and I took a cab to the city. The ride made me dizzy and nauseated but I thought I’d be OK. At first, I was.
But then I crashed. Hard.
Approximately forty-five minutes in, my head began throbbing and the dizziness required me to rest my head on the wall behind my seat. I couldn’t finish my lunch. Mom and Dad sent me home.
This totally sucks. I cannot recommend that you get yourself a concussion when presented with the option.
Sidebar: I requested a stupid Uber. A driver confirmed and for whatever reason, I added my destination. Time passed, I opened the app to check for the driver’s ETA and…nothing. Apparently the driver didn’t want to go to Williamsburg, canceled and I didn’t get a notification. Fortunately I found a yellow cab soon after and within thirty minutes, I was in my bed.