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October 08, 2006
Bethesda Fountain
Chis went to our favourite Saturday noon yoga class, while I nursed my cold on the couch. It was glorious and sunny, about 21c, and I was determined to enjoy at least part of the day without hacking, wheezing, sniffling, or whining. We decided to spend the afternoon with books, newspapers, the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle (in Manhattan, most of the Sunday Times is delivered on Saturday), and our iPods at the edge of the fountain at Bathesda Terrace in Central Park. It has become a favourite hangout, full of tourists, wedding photos, bikes, joggers, musicians, actors, and locals.
At the end of Tony Kushner's play, Angels in America, Pryor (a prophet living with AIDS) is with his friends and family at this wonderful fountain. He has lived longer with AIDS than he expected, and he tells the story of the angel, who descends from heaven and purifies the water, which cures the sick and weak. It is a scene that always makes me cry (I think I've seen the play, both parts, at least three times).
We must have spent two or three hours there, distracted from time to time by passers-by wanting photos taken, people pretending that they intend to jump in the fountain. I read Naked by David Sedaris, and with the volume on my iPod cranked, my sudden bursts of laughter seemed artificial. I was listening to opera. What could be more special that a brilliant sunny afternoon, sitting by the fountain, with my partner and best friend, listening to opera and laughing with David Sedaris?
Thanks to the big smile on my face, I seemed to forget about my flu. At least for a little while.
Posted by dave at October 8, 2006 11:23 AM