I've been looking forward to this trip for a while.
We moved from NJ to Oregon in 2007 when Zoe was 4 years old. Since then, most of my East Coast relatives haven't been able to see Zoe grow up. That all changed with an invitation to a family Bar Mitzvah in north Jersey, and the wheels started turning....great opportunity for a daddy/daughter weekend in the city.
Zoe is a bit pumped up at the idea.
The adventure begins with a 5:09AM departure from the Redmond Airport. That means my teenager has to rise two hours earlier. Never fear: that girl was up before the alarms. As for me, my sleep was spotty, so I was in the shower at 2:30.
On the drive to the airport, with music blaring, Zoe drops the following goodies:
"That's gucci." (in response to something outstanding)
"This song has a good emo bop." (translation unknown)
and when arriving at the cold airport:
"I don't want to leave the warmth of my butt." (she likes my car's heated seats)
This kid of mine....shortly after, she's celebrating a successful transit thru TSA:
That kid. She's doing two shows a night at the Copa.
We had a 30 minute connection in Portland, tight enough that I called a breakfast order in to Le Capers Cafe while we were still taxiing to the gate.
A short walk to our next plane, and a huge line already boarding. Let's sit down and eat our breakfast now, since our bags will fit under the seats (no need to fight for overhead storage). So we sit and begin to eat...when I notice those people are at the next gate, San Diego bound. Our gate is adjacent...and the door is open...and there are no passengers standing there. Hmmm.....
Yep, boarding on our flight is almost done. Yikes. Underway shortly.
Zoe loves her bagel and egg sandwich.
My breakfast is a little more unconventional, especially at 7am.
She held out as long as she could.
Upon landing at EWR, I'm blaring Cameo's Word Up while trying to impress upon Zoe the sheer magnitude of Larry Blackmon's high box.
And now the adventure kicks into high gear, with Zoe's first ride on NJ Transit, not to mention that first glimpse of New York's Penn Station.
Friday at 4:30pm, the subway is a bit crowded. Who knew?
We're staying at Pod 51, this really neat and quirky hotel, with a tiny room that we won't spent much time in. Zoe loves the bunk beds, as I thought she would.
Schlepping across midtown, we arrive at the mecca that is Times Square. Zoe is mesmerized at the....'whatever you want to call it' quality of those amazing few blocks. Everything is lit, including some of the pedestrians.
We continue our stroll, as it's still a few hours before the main event. I scratch my chin thoughtfully, and tell her we might want to check out the next block.
Which of course holds the Richard Rodgers Theater, home of 'Hamilton.' Yes, she loses her mind....
And we found Hamilton's retail store across the street...I hope Alexander still gets royalties.
A pizza that goes to 11....
The Broadway Bookstore....I could spend a few hours in there.
|I see you shiver...with antici....PATION.|
Zoe's musical du jour is Kinky Boots. She practically knows the script...
The sets are perfectly done....the engineer in me appreciates the ease at which the crew changes scenery on the fly. Everything fits.
Oh, yes: the story and singing are exceptional.
At intermission: Zoe is just a bit jazzed.
Tremendous show. Poignant storyline, two male leads with widely disparate backgrounds dealing with similar issues. Powerful singing, full commitment by the cast...no kidding, that's what it takes to win a Tony Award....or six, as the show did in its opening year.
Phenomenal makeup, too. My intuition was telling me that the 'Angels' were one gender, but my eyes were saying something else.
On the way out, I suggest that Zoe grab some extra Playbills.
She IM's one of her friends, who says (in the spirit of capitalism), "sell them and get that coin."
On the walk back...Rockefeller Center
NBC at NBC (1990):
I'm up at 0640 for a walk thru Central Park, and to do some shopping.
Too bad I didn't have my wallet with me. Yeah, right.
9 West 57th, home of many financial firms. The business nerds among us might remember the RJR Nabisco LBO; this building was the site of many a negotiation (and late nights) on that deal.
Here's Tavern on the Green.
I can practically see Louis Tully being ravaged by the demon dogs while banging on the Tavern's windows, requiring an intervention from Ray, Peter, and Egon.
is artistically enlarged into Dana Barrett's apartment building, and site of an attack by the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.
Runners are careless about their litter. I'm standing at the finish line of the recent NYC Marathon, picking up a lot of F-bombs dropped by Shalane, the first American winner in 156 years.
I have all my business meetings at The Plaza.
Back at the hotel, I rouse Junior from her slumber. Onto the subway, then NJ Transit enroute to Bloomfield for Jesse's Bar Mitzvah. A nice reunion with my brother and sister, who I see way too rarely nowadays. And they haven't seen their niece in over a decade.
|my sibs: Leslie and Curt|
|Zoe doesn't look much like Leslie, does she?|
|Cousin Tara and my 'little' brother|
Once in the city again, we walk north a few blocks to Serendipity, on the advice of my doctor.
Zoe devours a chicken pot pie...and then there's this beast:
A frozen hot chocolate. Ice chunks in the chocolate, blended into the consistency of a smoothie. Not exactly benign.
Zoe and her good friend RuPaul...
Sunday morning means skating. Zoe has had lessons since age five...while she's enjoying the ice, I'm across the street at the Today Show, looking for a cameraman who needs footage of skaters for the morning show. No luck.
I'm above the ice at street level, watching my beautiful girl skating away. She sees me and says something, but I can't hear her. She pulls out her phone and texts me.
"I need water."
A quick walk back to the hotel. Pack up, check out. A quick ride back to Penn Station, more NY pizza for Zoe, then the train to the airport.
Six hours later, we're in Portland and awaiting the final flight. In the interim, we have dinner: a shared shrimp puttanesca...
And for Dad, an exquisite Adelsheim Pinot Noir from Oregon's Willamette Valley. I highly recommend it...or maybe I'm just tired.
Home at midnight. Yes, I'm tired: we did a lot, and we did it together.
I love you, Zoe: here's hoping you remember this trip for a long time.