  Ok, so I'm back from my NY excursion and I've had several things running through my head in these days since I've been back. I think rather than focusing on one right now it would be better just to get them all out before they fade into the abyss that is my memory.
In no particular order... 1. Dramamine has become my new travel buddy. No more turning green from near sudden losses of cabin pressure on airplanes. (which is probably more often caused by the pilot spilling coffee on himself than some random gale force wind at 35,000 ft) Now I can pop a pill before I get on the plane and wake up in time to hear the "Fasten Seatbelt" sign go off and make that ever important declaration of urgency by standing up before the people in the rows behind me.
2. I went to the apt of a friend of a friend's while I was in the city and was pleasantly surprised to find that they had a swing. That's right, a real swing made from a wooden board hung from two lengths of rope. There were actually two swings side by side. It was one of those economy apts where there's only really one room. The place didn't have the traditional couches, coffee table, and TV, but instead left the bulk of the room to open space for the swings.
As an architect, but more importantly as a human being, I think having a swing in my living space is definitely an idea I'm going to steal. 3. I went to NYC with no travel destinations or tourist intentions in mind. I had two days to see whatever I wanted in the city. The first day I spent wandering aimlessly through the streets of Soho, Chinatown, Little Italy, the financial district, and Times Square.
I had no real destination, I just kept walking, stopping in the occasional store. After a while I started getting kinda tired of walking and the heat started getting to me, so I decided that I would chill out somewhere. The most logical place at the time was the top of the Empire State Building. I had been up there before, so it wasn't really a tourist-like experience for me, but I just figured that the best place to catch a breeze in the middle of the city would be 82 floors in the sky. I was right. Some might find spending $12 and 45 min. of waiting in line just to "catch a breeze" kinda silly, but in my mind at the time it was well worth it.
4. The second day in the city I decided not to walk around at all-- mostly out of consideration for my blistering feet. Instead I decided to go to Central Park and read a book. I got off at 72nd St. and Central Park West, walked about 2 minutes in, found a good sittin' tree and parked it. I only read about 10 pages before I made a change of plans and decided to take a nap in the grass under the tree. Trees look pretty cool when you stare straight up into them from next to the trunk. The best part was that a path went adjacent to where I was sleeping, so I was able to catch about 5 seconds of every conversation that went by. My favorite must have been the woman speaking to a man about how she always imagined Central Park to be "this big, flat area with just grass.
" What made it my favorite was the guy's response: "yeah, me too. " Sheesh, he must have either not been listening at all, been listening and was honestly just as stupid as the woman he was walking with, or been listening and thinking "damn she's stupid, but if I play my cards right I might get to see her bedroom and ride these 'swings' that she keeps mentioning. " 5. Lastly, it must be said that no visit to Central Park is complete until you've sat on a park bench and philosophized "the meaning of it all" with some old dude who comes to that same place and has similar conversations probably every day.
There is plenty of reflection to be shared from my conversation with him, but I think I'll leave that for another time. Thanks to urlLink Fembot Anne for her flattering comments. I hope your ponderings have brought you closer to an understanding of the mysteries of the song of the motorcycle. I leave you with this: if there really is some sort of sexual symbolism involved in the appeal of the motorcycle, then what makes someone buy a Vespa? 
