Liz Under the Bridge

Random Acts of You Know What

So, my sister and I were enjoying a lovely Ethiopian dinner last week after our tap class when we heard two loud BANGs. Ha ha, we thought, that car backfiring sounded just like a gun! Hmm, then gee, what's with the throngs of teens running down the street? Well, it seems that those were gun shots, and, in fact there's a shot kid right in front of the restaurant. Fast-forward for those of you who don't like suspense: two kids were shot and neither was badly hurt, as far as the reports go. Police came quickly, and ambulances followed, which was comforting, but still. Still. I've been in and around NYC for many years not and I've never been that close to a gun firing. I've been in threatening environments, and felt unsafe, but never seen or heard a gun fire. A couple of things I noticed:

1. I wasn't at all scared, actually. It just didn't seem real. I felt like I was watching an episode of Law & Order. That's not good, right? Have I become desensitized?

2. A guy in the restaurant was on his cell calling the police while we were all trying to figure out what was happening and he told us that he knew something was up—too many kids, something didn't feel safe. He ducked into the restaurant because he thought something was going on. And that's what's wrong with become desensitized: fear is a gift. It's good to recognize that something's wrong and listen to that feeling.

What's your fear factor?

The Diet

So, I alluded to my diet a couple of posts ago, and I said I would tell you a little bit more. The story is that I volunteered to be on a panel of women (40-65) who are testing a whole diet/fitness/skin care program for a national magazine (which I think I probably can't mention by name quite yet). I was worried when I agreed to do this for TWELVE WEEKS that the hardest part would be the fitness part. What surprised me was how hard it was (has been) to do the diet part. It's a good diet, very healthful, lots and lots of fruits and vegetables, whole grains, fish. Food I like. And lots of it. I'm actually eating more than I ate before (at least that's how it feels). But I told myself at the beginning if I was going to DO this, then I would actually DO it.

In fact, I had a whole devil/angel moment early on. We have to fill out daily journals about what we eat and our exercise, and I was all mopey because I really wanted a glass of wine, but it wasn't really there on the menu and the little devil on one shoulder was all "You know, you don't have to tell the truth. Who'll know? Drink a glass and just don't write it down." But the angel kicked in with her preachy "You SAID you would do this for 12 weeks, so just buck up and get it done."

How's it going, you may ask? Well, I'm in week 6, and it's actually been a bit of an eye-opener. Some observations:

1. I ate a whole lot of crap. Lots of sweets, chocolate, snacks, etc. More than I thought.

2. I ate very little protein. I don't eat meat, so I think I had way too many days of pasta and cereal and maybe a bowl of rice.

3. Okay, I think I drank a lot more than I thought I did. Especially those really bad-for-you sweet cocktails. Basically, anything ending in "ini" really appealed (okay, still does appeal) to me.

Those are just some of the things I've noticed. Plus, it's been easier to just cut out things like desserts, rather than try to limit them. Maybe that will backfire, but it's actually begun to feel kind of good. I think maybe there's a little more energy, and maybe I'm not so hungry, and maybe my skin looks a little better. I'm not entirely sure yet, but I also realized you have to give things a little time. There are a lot of bad habits I had to break, and they don't break so quickly.

It's hard, this whole food thing!

Kid Stuff

I've been noticing quite a lot of kid stuff making its way into the adult world lately, and it kind of puzzles me. I've always felt a disconnect seeing adults embracing children's things as if they were their own, like reading Harry Potter, or watching Disney movies, or dressing up for Halloween, not just to share the experiences with a child, but to enjoy them as grown-up things. I know book groups who read kid's books and adults who line up to see the latest animated movie and full-fledged old people who have been planning their halloween costumes for weeks now.

What gives? I feel like so many people rush their children into adult things (seeing R-rated movies when they're 11), then seem to infantilize adulthood. What do you think? Do you enjoy kid stuff? I loved watching kid movies with my kids, but I don't have any desire to see them now. I know there are some that are supposedly adult-worthy (Yes, I did rent Wall-E, and I liked it, but don't know about all the "best movie of the year" accolades.) but still . . .  there are so many adult movies and books I want to see and read, I don't really want to spend my time back in the world from which I have so recently emerged.

And what do you think of "Where the Wild Things Are"? I kind of don't want to see it at all—mainly I think because it seems like it's NOT a kid's movie. It feels like it's been oddly transformed from this lovely sweet kid's book to something bigger and more grown-up. So this one confuses me.

I'd love to hear what others think about kid stuff.

I hate diets.

I have a certain friend, who shall remain nameless, who's never been on a diet. She doesn't seem in the least bit concerned about her weight or what she eats. Changes in her body are greeting with cheerful acceptance. Of course, she's pretty thin, which is why, I tell myself, she can be so relaxed and easy-going about the very thing that I have spent WAY too much time in my life stressed about: my body and my diet. But deep down I believe it's just her personal gift: acceptance and peace with her body. The very notion of that is so foreign to me, well, I can't even express how foreign it is.

And so, here I am, in my 50th year, for chrissakes, once again on a diet, once again thinking about the extra ten pounds I need to lose to fit into my clothes, rather than just saying "whoops! Gained ten pounds! Time to buy larger clothes." In a way, each time, it's like buying new notebooks at the beginning of the school year: "This time will be different! I will change the very essence of my being and become a person who's disciplined."

You know, now that I think about it, I think this time just might be different. Next post, I will tell more about this diet/fitness/skin care plan I am on . . .

Are you looking to have fun?

Then I have two words for you: tap class.

Yes, I have verified for you all that, in fact, tap dancing is about the most fun thing a person can do. Especially if you're lucky enough to have found a really excellent teacher (Misty) and a really pleasant place to tippity tap your night away (Mark Morris Dance Studio in Brooklyn).

Bonus: Six classes are only $75. Let me tell you, happiness does not come at a better price than that.

I Forgot! Having Kids Is Hard!

So, we here at the Under-the-bridge household are settling back into our routine after an exhilarating weekend with my adorable nephew. Let me tell you, as kids go, he's quite exemplary. But, in general, I forgot how hard it is to watch a little kid. I thought you could say things like "Okay, sport, put your shoes on and we'll go to the movies!" and, well, he'd put his shoes on. Not conduct an experiment in how slowly one can complete the process of putting shoes on. Or, "hey, buddy, want to turn off the t.v. and we'll go to the park?" would be met with a resounding "you betcha!"

Hmmm. Could it be my memory is a little sketchy when it comes to recollecting my own parenting skills?

Pretty much one of the best weekends ever.

So, tomorrow's my birthday. Yes, it's a big one, and no, you don't have to wish me a happy birthday, because, quite frankly, it's been such a delightful weekend-long celebration of me that I'm ready to step over there, quite quietly, out of the limelight thank you very much.

That's not to say I didn't enjoy every minute of it. First of all, my older son surprised me with a dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Farms on Friday night. If you don't know it, I promise to write more soon and give you details. If you do, you are right now envious of me. We had the farmer's feast, which was a tasting menu that consisted of (this is not hyperbole) about 18 courses. Wow.  But more than that (and that's a pretty big that), I had a wonderful one-on-one night with my son, which is just a rare treat when your kids grow up and move out. Almost six hours of time together, driving up to Tarrytown, enjoying a leisurely meal, and driving back together. Time to talk about life (his and mine) and how things are really going, which never seems to happen in the quick-in-and-quick-out visits of his law school life.

Younger son (and his girlfriend) gave me a new turntable and a used receiver to go with it, resurrecting my not-so-reliable set, and we played some old records and wow! I just felt all young and happy.

Then, a lovely dinner with my whole family: parents, siblings, children and their partners. Dominick began it all with a toast that this was just what I wanted: to be with the most important people in my life to enjoy a lovely meal together. And it was true! I thought how lucky I am to have this one simple thing in life: a family that surrounds me of people I genuinely like. It really doesn't get better than that.

At the Beach

There's this Japanese movie I sort of love called After Life. The premise was simple: when you die, you only take one memory to heaven with you; the rest of your life is wiped out. The recently dead spend a week with counselors trying to choose a memory that the counselors reenact for them. It's a lovely movie about the nature of memory and meaning of life. There's a great moment where the teenage girl is meeting with her counselor and she says she wants to remember Disneyland. The counselor warns her "Every young person wants to remember Disney. It's a mistake." The counselor goes on to elicit a sweet memory of the girl's mother's rubbing her fevered forehead as the best memory to keep through eternity.

My point? Well, for me it was a no-brainer. We used to come to Montauk every summer when my kids were little, staying at one of those funky beach-side motels. We'd lie on the beach and dive through the waves all day, then shower up, slip on jeans and t-shirts, a little crunchy-burnt from the sun, and go to Gosman's Dock for steamers, lobsters and (for me at least) beer. Sitting on that dock, watching the boats drift in and out, at the end of a beach day with my whole family. That's the memory I would want to keep forever.

We're at the beach now, a week in Montauk without the (now grown) kids and it's still lovely. I love the ocean beyond reason, and my beach-side memories, from swimming at Coney Island with my grandmother to teaching the kids how to dive through waves, are a huge part of that love. I can sit on the sand, staring at the crashing surf, all day long. But now I do feel a little nostalgic for those summer vacations gone by. And now, as labor day weekend approaches it feels especially poignant, as it's the first September in 23 years we aren't getting someone ready for school.

Ah, the beach.

What memory would you save for all eternity?

Review: Ignatzio's

Oh, Ignatzio's! I wanted to love you. I was willing to like you and still commit myself to you. I tried. I swear I tried. And yet. Yet! You have disappointed me too often and now you are dead to me. I am sorry to say it's over between us. Yes, over before it even really began.

Here's the sad story: My neighborhood, which I love dearly has a flaw. Not enough restaurants. When we saw the signs in the window "Coming Soon! Ignatzio's" well, it was exciting. A fun new place in our lonely restaurant-deprived neighborhood, with pizza and a pretty view and beer. Honestly it wouldn't have taken much to make me a regular. I love pizza! Even kind of bad pizza is OKAY by me. And with a delicious Brooklyn Lager? Can't miss!

Except it can. First of all there were the delays and more delays and the heightened anticipation was probably not a good thing. Then it opened and we went and they couldn't seat us for 45 minutes for what seemed to be no good reason other than they didn't have their shit together. Okay! I forgave you Ignatzio's. You were new. I understood.

Then we went and it was just so disappointing. The server was lovely, but not quite on. It took almost 40 minutes for the pizza to come after the salad was cleared away. The salad was good, I suppose. But the pizza was so sad and unwelcoming. Perhaps there was no salt in the crust? So bland. So unappealing. Not BAD, per se. But just so completely NOT GOOD. Dessert? No thanks. And why were those two guys sitting outside the bathrooms? Just a little icky.

But we tried again. The waitress actually remembered us from weeks earlier and that she had mistakenly charged us $3 extra for something. How nice! The timing was better and Dominick even tried a meatball and I tried a different salad and we had the special pizza and oh, oh, oh well, just not good.

I'm sorry Ignatzio's. I think it's over for us.

Ignatzio's Pizza
4 Water Street
Brooklyn

On the High Line

I suppose it won't be a huge revelation to anyone to hear me say this, but one of the greatest transformations in New York City in the last couple of decades has been in the public spaces. I mean, I remember Bryant Park when it was the street down which you didn't walk with its high hedges and nodding out junkies. And now! I love every inch of it, from its absolutely world-class public bathroom (THE BEST in midtown, if you're ever stuck) to the great folding chairs and tables and flowers. Love, love, love. And, I've already waxed rhapsodic about Governor's Island. For me, there are few things as delightful as discovering a sweet little public space.

Which is what led me to seek out the High Line. For those of you who don't know, it was an abandoned elevated train line on the West Side of NYC which has been transformed into a strip of elevated park. It actually was not at all what I expected.

We walked to Chelsea Piers, got a bite to eat and some iced coffee and ventured up the stairs:
 
Now this, I expected: the wild flowers. But this I didn't:

The cool benches and concrete walkway. There is going to be water soon among those ridges. (That will be worth returning for!)

There are some tables and chairs and coffee vendors (more table and chairs needed, btw).

Don't forget you're walking one story up—there are the windows from the adjacent buildings, and billboards poking through the grass.

And moments of just flowers. It's fragrant! In a good way. Check out the birds gathered in the tall grass.

And you can look down at the street scenes below.

Yes, here we are, enjoying the high life.

I think the next trip must be to go back at night—I couldn't help but notice the lights tucked all over and my thoughts immediately went to the pleasures of sitting on the beautiful lounge chairs, watching the sun set and the lights take over. I imagine it will be sort of magical.