Our Anniversary Trip-Day 2, Part 2 (MOMA and a Lot of Beer)

Okay, I made the mistake of showing my report to my son , The Writer, who is supposed to love me. It appears that in addition to being long-winded I have no knowledge of verb tenses and use far too many commas. So, I apologize to all you copy editors out there but I don%26#39;t have a grammar check. Oh, and we drink too much beer.

To recap: We%26#39;re Scott and Jennifer, celebrating our 26th wedding anniversary in New York. It%26#39;s our second day and we spent most of it at the Met.

Friday

January 5, 2007

We both had a severe case of museum feet and badly needed a rest. I took a hot bath and napped for a couple of hours while Scott settled in with ESPN and a nice cold beer. It was hard to get up again. It was still raining and soo tempting just to snuggle down into the bed and call it a night. Really, really tempting, but something kept worming it%26#39;s way into my sleepy brain: Target Free Friday Nights at MOMA. MOMA for free, so tired, free, extremely sleepy, free. Van Gogh and Wyeth and free. I dragged myself out of bed. I think Scott was secretly hoping I%26#39;d sleep through Target Free Friday Night but he%26#39;s a nice guy so he obligingly turned off ESPN and we tromped out into the damp New York evening.

I was expecting a massive crowd at MOMA but it wasn%26#39;t bad at all. The only real line in the building was at the bag check. If I%26#39;ve learned anything in all my years as a museum goer it%26#39;s this: Don%26#39;t carry a bag big enough to excite security. You%26#39;ll just cause yourself all sorts of trouble and do you really need to cart around all that junk anyway? My daughter has a new purse (more on that on Sunday) and it%26#39;s big enough to pack for a long week-end. My purse is a tiny thing so we walk right up to get our ticket, straight onto the elevator and up to the fifth floor.

Earlier this afternoon, when we were so tired and my feet were killing me, I made a promise to Scott about tonight. Two paintings. Starry Night and Christina%26#39;s World, that%26#39;s it. We%26#39;ll be in and out in no time. I didn%26#39;t mean to lie. This is such a fantastic collection it would be a shame not to do it justice even if you%26#39;re not a big fan of modern art, which I%26#39;m not. I only studied it because LSU wouldn%26#39;t let me matriculate if I didn%26#39;t. I made a C on my Mondrian paper. I hate Mondrian.

Van Gogh is another thing altogether. Starry Night is a special painting for me. When we were newlyweds and young and even broker than we are now we had a student apartment at LSU. It was done up in early %26#39;70s cast offs and Starry Night was the only thing there that I had chosen on my own. We couldn%26#39;t paint or put any holes in the horrid cinder block walls so we decorated with posters and art gum. Our first poster was an LSU football schedule, one of those free ones that the beer companies hand out. The other was Starry Night. It filled the only empty wall in our teeny, tiny bedroom and I have many fond memories of lying on our bed, listening to the late baseball game at Alex Box Stadium next door, and thinking what a fine connoisseur of art I was.

Apparently I%26#39;m not the only one who thinks Starry Night is special. Here was the only crowd we encountered at MOMA that night. I waited semi-patiently for my chance to get close and wondered how many of these people really wanted to see Starry Night and how many were there simply because it was famous (and free). I%26#39;m not being critical. I did the same sort of thing with the Mona Lisa. It%26#39;s just that they were in my way. I finally made it to the front, and oh, was it worth the wait. ***WARNING, some serious blah, blah, blah is coming up.*** This is not a pretty painting. It%26#39;s rushing and calm and dark and glowing all at the same time. Forget about the composition and the brush strokes and the use of texture. Just stand there and let the restless passion of it sweep over you. It%26#39;s wonderful.

Okay, enough of that. In spite of my promise I stopped by to pay my respects to Rousseau%26#39;s Sleeping Gypsy and the Gaugin before moving on to the Picasso room. In case you were wondering (and even if you weren%26#39;t) here%26#39;s what I think of Picasso. If I had been one of the women who modeled for Les Demoiselles d';Avignon and then seen that mess up on the wall I would have walked straight up to Mr. Picasso and slapped him right across the face. I don%26#39;t get it. I don%26#39;t really want to.

A few Matisses and Chagalls later we come across the strange and twisted world of Magritte and Dali. These are interesting if just because they%26#39;re so dadgummed weird. Then it%26#39;s on to another of my all time favorites, Christina%26#39;s World. This one%26#39;s very different from The Starry Night. For one thing, it%26#39;s not in the least abstract. There%26#39;s none of the intensity of color and texture that you get with a van Gogh. What it does have is the same emotional wow factor. The poignancy and sense of longing in this painting almost hurts it%26#39;s so real. Christina%26#39;s World is not so popular as Starry Night so there was no crowd of people to push through. Just this one guy with a huge camera. He was standing right up next to the painting (definitely not the way to view Christina%26#39;s World) and taking a series of photos of the picture, square inch by square inch. I didn%26#39;t appreciate this one bit. He was a big guy and he was hogging up the entire picture. I put up with it for about two minutes before I said ';Excuuuse me.'; in a really snotty voice. I know I was rude but, really. Target Free Friday is not the time to expect to have such a major work of art all to yourself.

Now it%26#39;s on to the seriously hard core stuff. The kind of picture that%26#39;s just a white canvas with one red line painted down the side. My favorite is a work by a Mr. Edward Ruscha. It%26#39;s a dark blue canvas with the word OOF painted in yellow across the middle. OOF, that%26#39;s it. I bet that Mr. Ruscha is somewhere up in that great gallery in the sky laughing at all of us. I%26#39;ll bet he hangs out with Mondrian.

Having given Modern Art it%26#39;s due, it%26#39;s time for something completely different. Times Square! We were there last night but I didn%26#39;t get to see anything because I was too busy trying not to die during our mad rush to dinner. This time we could take all night if we wanted to.

Times Square is kind of like Starry Night meets the Met cafeteria. It%26#39;s colorful and hectic and busy and loud. We turned the corner to be greeted by that huge mega-TV-screen thing featuring Sean ';P. Diddy'; Combs. I%26#39;m very familiar with Mr. Diddy because my daughter is an ex-dancer and I%26#39;ve seen every single episode of Making the Band (I, II, and III) at least twice. I knew he had an ego, but wow! Can you even begin to imagine what it%26#39;s like to see yourself blown up that big? Everything in Times Square is big including the crowds. I grab Scott%26#39;s hand and hold on to it for dear life before we plunge into the heaving mass of people. This is definitely not my kind of thing. Scott loves it though, and he did just spend two hours at MOMA after all. We walked up and down the sidewalks of Broadway (or was it 7th Avenue? I never did get that straight.) stopping here and there to check out the sights. Toys ';R'; Us was neat (loved the Lego displays!) and I enjoyed the Hershey store a lot. It smells divine. That was pretty much it. We tried to push our way into the MTV (gifts for the kids) store but it was just too crowded for a normal human being to endure. I got splashed by a taxi and decided that I needed a break. Scott hadn%26#39;t had a beer in over three hours so he was pretty much okay with this.

I know that New York is filled with great bars, trendy lounges and other fashionable watering holes but when we want a drink we go to the Cranberry. The Cranberry isn%26#39;t a bar or a lounge. Mostly it%26#39;s a convenience store with a deli attached, but here%26#39;s the secret. Upstairs at the Cranberry is a dining room where you can take your purchases and consume them while looking down on 45th Street through huge plate glass windows. I discovered the Cranberry when Lizzie (our teen-aged daughter) and I were in New York on a strictly theater and shopping trip. Liz thinks that H %26amp; M is one of the greatest institutions known to mankind and we stayed at the Big Apple Hostel when we came. I know, big rotten skinflint, but we needed to conserve our funds for theater tickets and lots and lots of halter tops and denim mini-skirts. The rooms at the Big Apple are small and the MTV is loud so I spent a lot of time at the Cranberry next door. The dining room is large, surprisingly serene and nobody ever bothers you. If fact there%26#39;s hardly ever anyone up there, mostly hostel kids and staff from the hotel across the street. You can buy a six-pack and a huge slice of pizza to share and sit there all night if you want to, or at least until they close. So that%26#39;s what we did.

Hey, don%26#39;t knock it till you%26#39;ve tried it. We practically had the place to ourselves with just a couple of guys enjoying a few cold ones after work to intrude on our privacy. We sat in the rather pretty Asian-inspired room and talked and talked while we watched the people hurrying up and down in the mist on 45th Street. Don%26#39;t get me wrong, I%26#39;d probably love cocktails at The View or in the Rainbow Room but our entire pizza and beer feast cost less than one little drink at either of those. Besides, the Cranberry doesn%26#39;t care if we wear our taxi-splashed jeans and tennies there. It%26#39;s my opinion that no drink is worth putting those high heels back on for.

Three beers and I%26#39;m ready for bed. Scott wants to see a little more of New York all lit up at night but insists on seeing me home first. He%26#39;s like that. We play a quick game of ';Which Way Now'; before heading off for 8th Avenue and the E train and somehow ending up at 6th Avenue and on the V train. One good thing about Midtown, you%26#39;re never very far from a subway station. (Note to the novice: If you like to play ';Which Way Now'; don%26#39;t try it after a night at the Cranberry unless you%26#39;re an expert. We%26#39;re seasoned pros at getting lost, but an amateur probably shouldn%26#39;t attempt it.) The trusty V train drops us off right by the hotel and Scott escorts me up to the room. I told you he was like that. Another hot bath and I%26#39;m out like a light. I have no idea when Scott got in.

Jennifer

Our Anniversary Trip-Day 2, Part 2 (MOMA and a Lot of Beer)

Jennifer ~ I have been reading all the installments of your trip ~ I cannot wait for the rest of them. Keep on writing we are all enjoying it!!

Our Anniversary Trip-Day 2, Part 2 (MOMA and a Lot of Beer)

Me too!

Keep writing!

Your hubby sounds like a true gent.

I love your trip. Its so fun and interesting!

(Oh my I loved Making the Band!)

More, More, More, please. and I WANT IT NOW!!!!!

I cant STAND waiting til the next chapter.

What did your husband end up doing afterwards?

BTW, are you familiar with the story of Christina%26#39;s World? Christina (the subject) was a paraplegic and dragged herself around the farm by her hands and arms. The painting is not of a girl longing for something mystical on the horizon, it is a depiction of her ';walking'; back to her house.

Queensboulevard:

Yes, I know the story. Miss Olsen wasn%26#39;t a young woman either. I think she was in her 50%26#39;s when Wyeth painted that piece. I like to think that painting is a lot like music, though. The painter gives you the picture but to really enjoy best it you have to put in a little bit of yourself in it too. It%26#39;s kind of like playing air guitar or singing in the car or dancing in the living room. Blah, blah, blah.

Oh, and I can%26#39;t remember what Scott did. I%26#39;ll have to ask.

Jennifer

I am loving your reports, look forward to the rest.

Oh my. Blooming brilliant. I%26#39;ve never been to MOMA, and your descriptions are just so fabulous. keep them coming...

great reports, I have been enjoying and laughing at them all.

I am happiest to know that Starry Night is at MOMA!! We were in the Netherlands last winter and my husband was VERY disappointed /appalled that Starry Night wasnt in the VanGogh museum.. poor guy, its all he really wanted to see.

I just relayed the info to him that its at the MOMA.. off we go...

thanks!

Outstanding trip report, jsmla. Love your prose------it flows as effortlessly as the Mississippi. (Sorry, I get literary pretensions when I read good writing.) The first time I read one of your reports I assumed you were a professional writer. If your son is the professional in the family then he must be VERY good. By the way, that little nugget of information about the Cranberry was exactly the sort of thing that I hoped forum posts would routinely supply, back when I first started reading them. (Alas, this turned out to hardly ever be the case. Instead it%26#39;s mostly the same boring questions, and the same boring answers, over and over. That and hysterics pleading for someone to tell them which four-star hotel to pick over another, so their vacation won%26#39;t be ';ruined';.) I%26#39;m always on the lookout for places that are cheap, fun and uncrowded, and you found one in -------my mind reels!-------Times Square, of all places. I bow before the Master. You%26#39;re so good, I had to check out your member info. I noticed that you haven%26#39;t written any reviews. I%26#39;d be very interested if you would. (You know, you can review virtually anything on TA, it doesn%26#39;t have to be a hotel or restaurant. In fact, I tend to be more interested in reviews of neighborhoods and attractions anyway. I%26#39;d really be interested in reading your take on the sights and places you visit, anything that strikes your fancy.