The World According to Keitho

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New York calling

Posted by keithosaunders on March 4, 2011

And now for a little palette cleanser.  Think of this post as a sorbet.

Earlier this week I was going about my business when my cell phone rang.  I could see from the LCD screen that it was a good friend calling from New York City. 

I answered with a hearty “Hello!”

But my friend did not respond.  I could hear the sound of boots clomping on hardened snow, and soon I heard what sounded like the roar of an approaching subway train.  Moments later I heard the unmistakable chime that the subway doors emit when they open —  and presently the closing chime.  That’s when the phone call cut off. 

Obviously my friend must have unknowingly pressed a button on the cell, calling me by mistake.  The effect was as if the city of New York itself called me — mocking me.  While I’m out here in the perennially sunny, 60 degree winter weather of California, hearty people are enduring real winters.  These are the folks that are worthy of spring.  They have earned the right to a few weeks of mild weather before the oppressive heat of summer.

“Come back, you fool,” the phone call seemed to say.  “Before it’s too late…”  

 

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4 Responses to “New York calling”

  1. Maria Elena said

    Beautiful post! I could almost hear the subway in New York. Not that I’ve been there.

    Great to have you at WordPress!

    • Hi Maria! It’s great to see you again and thanks for stopping by. I hope you are well.

      Blair: I was in New York for 26 years. I definitely liked this California weather but part of me misses the feeling of accomplishment that comes from enduring and getting through an Eastern winter. Most of the New York winters aren’t that harsh compared to other cold weather cities, but this one was particularly snowy and cold. I guess it’s my Jewish guilt kicking in! Certain sounds stay with you forever and those subway doors will be one of them.

  2. bkivey said

    Didn’t you spend something like twenty years in NYC enduring winter? My paternal grandmother lived twenty years in Chicago teaching school and the day after she retired moved to Georgia. As for myself, I’ve lived in four-season climates enough to where I appreciate living in a more moderate climate and where the snow (for the most part) stays up in the mountains where it belongs.

    Maybe the phone call wasn’t a reminder as much as a Siren song from the Scylla and Charybdis of Manhatten and Brooklyn.

  3. Bayonne up!

    Meehan

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