March began with another Snow Day. People were excused from work and kids stayed home from school.
The trains were running underground, so I traveled from Fort Greene to East Broadway.
The site of the 169 Bar.
The bar was crammed with Snow Day celebrants.
Everyone was happy to be off for the day.
I drank beers with my fellow New Englander, Matt Ford.
We had a good laugh.
He liked my hat.
I went outside.
It was cold and wet under foot.
My sheepskin jacket and heavy boots protected me from the weather.
The jacket had once belonged to Arthur Weinstein, famed nightlife prince.
There was little traffic on East Broadway.
I felt warm enough to make a slush angel.
A young couple thought I was funny.
At least I didn't have to sleep in the subway like so many unfortunate men and women.
I trained north to Catskill.
Charlotta needed help with the house and I could use the work.
Thomas Cole's house was a treasure.
The view was always the same.
Mount Kaaterskill seemed closer than twenty miles.
I wanted to go there.
Charlotta wanted me to work.
She was the boss and I had to be content with tramping into town through the snow.
The snow was only ankle deep.
My boots were thigh high.
After ten years I returned to the city.
Fenway had money.
Mam too.
One day I helped Dave Henderson move a Vortex sculpture.
It didn't weigh much.
I loved his other pieces.
They had no names.
The snow melted quick.
Teddy bears hung from the wires.
They cut a nice silhouette in the blue sky.
I didn't have any work and went to the Gowanus Canal on the F train.
No one was on the platform.
The structure had been built in the early 1930s.
Ten years ago the city spent over $200 million to repair the station.
From the ground I saw nothing of Manhattan.
It was no oner my bourough.
I was now in Brooklyn.
But not for long.
This weekend I was marrying friends in Virginia.
Richmond to be exact.
Go Bus was the way to go.
Paige and Ten Rings were waiting in Petersburg.
Paige was a swimmer. She worked for NGOs. To help the world.
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