Here's something neat about living right by the 2/3 (which is an express subway, if you didn't know) -- one can go up to Central Park, check out The Gates (you better know what The Gates are, because I'm not explaining it . . . it's this big public art exhibit Christo has been trying to get done for 26 years now, blah blah blah thousands and thousands of orange gates), and be back home in an hour.
Do you know those orange plastic fences that get put up in parks and on fields that are really flimsy? From the distance, that's pretty much what the gates . . . I mean The Gates look like, a flimsy orange fence that runs through all of the park. And while literature describes these gates as being "saffron" in color, they're definitely as Yellow-Orange as your least-favorite Crayola crayon.
As I entered the park, I overheard a mom and son have this conversation:
Son (Quite possibly my brother Greg): "I don't get it, what's so special about this?"
Mom (long pause): "It cost twenty one million dollars."
That kind of sums up my thoughts on the Gates, clearly an undertaking, and certainly impressive, but cetainly not the pinacle of anything. While I definitely wouldn't fly in from Germany to see them, I'll probably catch the subway to take another look at them sometime.
Oh yeah, my Mom wanted a picture of me with The Gates. While I was taking this picture of myself, a guy behind me was getting a ticket for bringing fishing poles into the park and the cops were going over the list of recreational items that were officially not allowed into the park.