an uneventful but New York-y weekend

To be honest, I have been kind of a waste of space this weekend.  I did not run at all, despite the 15-mile run on my (mental) calendar, and I did not accomplish much of anything else.  But it was very hot, and after a week of late nights and early mornings and stomach-churning stress at work, I was very tired.  (to the point that I took afternoon naps both yesterday and today, and dreamed about work during one of them.)  However, I do have a few bits of discovery to report.

Bit the First: 4000 Miles, a play

New York is an endlessly surprising place.  The day after attending a screening held in the back room of a nice restaurant in the West Village, I went to a play held in a small, informal theater about fifty feet from Spiderman.  The play - which has now finished its extended, sold-out run but is rumored to be returning in several months - is a short, intermissionless dramedy about a young man who, at the end of a cross-country bike trip on which his best friend was killed, washes up at the Greenwich Village apartment of his elderly grandmother.  The play is largely plotless - things happen, but mostly it's about the two characters' disconnection from life, their closeness to death, and the rapport they develop during the weeks they inhabit the apartment together.  There are two other characters onstage, the semi-ex-girlfriend of the young man, who I never really got a bead on, and another love interest who seemed superfluous, and several other people who figure large in the main characters' stories, but mostly the play is about the two of them.  Both were played by really fabulous actors, and the contrast between the lanky, almost lyrical physicality of the young man and the halting equivocations of the old woman was the most compelling aspect of the production.  I would recommend seeing it if it were still around.

Bit the Second: Petite Abeille, for brunch

It is not possible for any city, including New York, to have too many places to eat brunch.  This place - the name appears to mean Little Bee - is nominally Belgian, and seems to be one part B Cafe, one part New York concrete-and-wood-and-no-soundproofing-whatsoever, and one part Le Peep (the original adorable brunch place as far as I'm concerned, located in Savoy, Illinois).  Anyway, in addition to omelettes and hamburgers and beer, they have belgian waffles, which are basically a(nother) excuse to have dessert as the first meal of the day.  I think maybe it was eating this waffle that derailed my running-and-eating-properly plans for this weekend, but I'm not sorry.

Bit the Third: (Not) Shakespeare in the (Other) Park

It is so hard to get Shakespeare in the Park tickets that I don't even bother doing the online application anymore.  But there is another set of free performances in Riverside Park (reviewed very nicely, two years ago, here).  This month they are doing Chekhov's The Seagull.  To be honest... well, this was not a success.  Part of the appeal of a production like this one is to see a familiar story in a new light, and while many (although not all) of Shakespeare's plays are familiar to many people, this non-Shakespearean play was not familiar to me.  Another issue was the environment - Riverside Park is narrow, and there was a lot of noise from the major roads on both sides of the park.  In addition, there were joggers and pedestrians and little kids and pets - sometimes passing directly in front of the stage on their wanderings through the park - and spectators drifting in and out (it has never occurred to any New Yorker, apparently, that upon entering a performance late they should remain unobtrusively at the back rather than trying to find a seat at the front... I do not think most New Yorkers know the meaning of the word "unobtrusive" or have any awareness of the concept it represents).  It was a nice evening, and I appreciated the effort to adapt the play to a modern interpretation and the Riverside Park setting, but the production sorely needed the acoustics, set, and proper costumes of a more formal staging.  I left after half an hour, and I was not the first one to go.

Bit the Fourth: Some thoughts

A year ago, I was in the middle of my Parisian sojourn, having recently and after much angst left my academic career for an unknown future in the Real World.  Two years ago, this would have been an unthinkable thing to do, and in the months in between I often told myself - never really believing it - that someday academia would not be my whole life but only something in my past.  I was right, which is still kind of surprising, and now that other life seems to have no relationship to me.

People ask me sometimes if I miss it.  I do, sometimes a lot.  I miss the work, the excitement, the travel, the people.  The informality and low-key dailyness.  Most of all, doing something I was really, really good at.  My job now is great, but it's different.  So I miss my former career, the way when I was in college I sometimes missed high school, or when I came to New York I sometimes missed Massachusetts.  But do I regret leaving academia?  No, I do not, not even a bit.  I am a happier and better person since I left.  My life has opened up in ways I would not have thought possible a two years ago.  It is hard to say whether I regret not leaving sooner, because I don't know if I could have done so, but if I had to make the choice a thousand more times, this would always be the right thing to do.