Sunday in the Park with Amy

Child with Butterfly Wings
Union Square, April 2014

My wife Amy and I visited New York's Union Square Park this afternoon. With the spring weather more sympathetic to summer than winter, we sat on a bench and watched people enjoy themselves. I had not spent time with a park bench in years, and I found the experience refreshing. The bench provides a vantage point to observe two areas of interest: facial expressions and profiles. Since the subjects imagine themselves visually anonymous, they tend to reveal something of their inner lives with every step they take. Sometimes, the facial gestures correspond with a bluntly stated perspective. At times, the profiles seem sharply etched against the sky or trees. Thankfully, relatively few people were immersed in their mobile devices.

Behind the bench was a small doggy playpen, where humans threw balls for the canines to fetch. Both species were on best behavior this afternoon, although the first hint of summer's more unpleasant odors came from the pooch pen. Interestingly, no birds were sighted in any trees, although a couple of women climbed up to lower branches and posed for photographs (not my wife's). Three young women wore rabbit ears that would have embarrassed Bugs Bunny. I never did learn why the trio wore the ears. At least they didn't wear a rabbit tail or have their boobs showing in provocative positions.

Strand Bookstore
(Image: wikipedia)

Later, we visited the Strand Book Store, the site of my first job after college graduation. Of course, the establishment is quite different from the Wild West atmosphere I knew as an employee. It remains a determinedly independent book store and has avoided surrendering to Amazon's anaconda-like squeeze. Alas, as a sign of the times, the Strand does not appear to carry any book galleys. Many bibliophiles thrived among the fifty-cent treasures galleys offered astute readers. Those days are now gone, as online galleys have largely muscled out their old-fashioned paper siblings.

The Strand is two blocks from Union Square. Amy and I returned to the park, where children played and adults lingered. My wife noted that the park had changed from my days shelving books at the Strand. She also believes that change is the one constant in our lives. I replied that many people in the world do not share that line of reasoning. Quiz Sicilians about how much change they experience or expect, and the answer would be a chilling "none." Ask an Indian preparing for an arranged marriage what societal change they anticipate, and the reply would likely be nada. Take a poll among religious zealots (choose any faith) and ask them about change. However, Amy has a point. The New York where I grew up and lived my early adult years has evolved into something I barely recognize. I can swing with that change, and I'm slowly, but surely, discovering a fresh New York that I can again call my own.