A Jazz Age Lawn Party and a Weekend with Friends from the Internet

20 Jun

This past weekend, a friend of mine from Tumblr visited and we hung out in Manhattan.  Yes, that’s right.  Friend from Tumblr.  We started talking when I did a concert review post of an Andrew Bird show, and then found we had quite a lot in common.  I had a very good time with them.  Especially because I suspect we function socially on the same frequency.  There’s a love of talking to people, but there’s also a love of silence.  We read our own books on the train and the subway, walked around in silence, hung out without speaking… I can’t speak for them, but I enjoyed it.

The ferry to Governor’s Island is free on the weekends.

There were dapper people everywhere, and it was lovely.  The twenties is certainly my favorite decade, for music, fashion, weird slang, and leisure activities.  I hadn’t realized how extensively I love it until I wrote out that list…  Hmmm…

I love cars that look cool.  That sort of surprises people when they find out, because I don’t actually like cars at all.  I hate being in them, I don’t want to drive them, and I would prefer it if there were far, far fewer of them.  But I love a good design, and cars have some really fabulous ones.  Old cars, especially, have an uncanny ability grind my gears.

Ha.  Get it?

I’m sorry.

Even if you would never wear it, you can’t tell me that’s not cool?  There aren’t many who can pull that look off, and yet…  I really can’t get over people’s clothes at this thing.  Some of them really knew their way around the decade.

And of course, the main reason we were there: swing dancing.  That’s what I meant by leisure activities, by the way.  I love swing dancing.  I started in January, and have fallen deeply, deeply in love.  It is also the only kind of dancing I can do.  Put me in a club, and I will probably fall down and die.  But put me on that dancefloor?

And I will be very awkward.  But I do know the basic steps of East Coast, Lindy, and Charleston, so I have that going for me at least.

I do so enjoy Charleston.

Mainly because I can–and do–do it anywhere.  Including the El, in case any of you were wondering.  If you don’t believe me… you’ll have to try it yourself.

This woman actually entered the solo Charleston contest.  It was pretty rad.  The whole contest was great fun to watch, actually.

Start ’em young, folks.  Start ’em young.

And, finally, the view from Governor’s Island.  What a lovely place.  I can’t believe I’ve never been there before.  I’ll have to go back with my bike next time…

We had dinner on the mainland (well…) with another Internet friend, at P.J. Clarke’s.  Ohhh man, P.J. Clarke’s.  And then we walked the area, going into bookstores and bagel places, acquiring waffles, and making the kind of small talk wherein you try to learn someone’s life in the span of a few minutes that I have become very accustomed to in college.

It was Golden Hour, which is a very dangerous hour, particularly when I’m in New York City.  Actually, almost every hour is dangerous there, especially when the hours accumulate, because then I think, walking around, dancing around other pedestrians, staring into the setting sun, rushing around beneath the Earth on the Subway… I think I won’t ever leave, and why must I ever leave?  That’s a very dangerous feeling, you know.  Actually you can’t know until you feel it.  And then, I’m sorry if you do.

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