The wife had to go away again this week quite suddenly to visit a relative who has taken ill. As such I'm back on full-time solo parent duty. I tell ya, my hat is off to single parents who are able to do this without losing their sanity. But, we're dealing. I'm spending most of my time either ensconced in my kids' school or traipsing to and from its location deep in the veritable crotch of the East Village. It's a lot of walking, but at least I'm getting my exercise.
I've been documenting a few of the sights of those treks in some recent posts, but there are a few vignettes I haven't been able to capture. Earlier this week, for example, while pushing my kids' stroller in a light-but-persistent drizzle on Avenue A, I saw two bedraggled, beardy homeless men locked in a full-on amorous clench, their eyes closed in passionate romantic abandon. On Tuesday, meanwhile, little Oliver's hand came shooting out of the back of his stroller to point out a relatively fresh pile of dog pooh that someone had jokingly topped with ice cream-sprinkles. Everyone's a comedian. Today, as Oliver and I were attempting to enjoy a banana chocolate chunk muffin while sitting out in front of the laboriously trendy Clinton Street Bakery, we had to listen to three pointedly scruffy (in a meticulously cultivated sort of way) hipsters earnestly discuss the best way to address people. The ever-popular "man" was deemed too antiquated and "brother" was considered too presumptuous, but all three agreed that "homie" was the perfect term. "That's what I call the customers at my Brooklyn record shop," beamed the one with his back to me. I really wanted to butt in to express my pronounced disdain for the term "homie," but as I said in this post, I'm trying to cut down on that sort of thing. Anyway, it's never a dull day in the EV/LES.
Peg left on relatively very short notice, giving me an afternoon to stock up on necessary groceries and take care of a few important errands. During the course of those, I decided to treat myself to the new, sprawling and lovingly-packaged Jane's Addiction box set, A Cabinet of Curiosities. Lord knows when I'll actually have a chance to play it. It is a lovely to behold, though, I will say that. I'd love to catch them on that tour with Nine Inch Nails that's coming up, but I somewhat strenuously doubt I'll be able to, alas.
Peg's due home -- hopefully -- on Sunday, but I told her to take all the time she needed. If my stamina and metal-state maintain, I'll have more stuff up here shortly. Otherwise, you can probably find me on the streets of the East Village.