The Newtown Pentacle

Monday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It all started at one in the morning on a Tuesday.

I had a 6 a.m. flight, leaving Pittsburgh International AirPort and bound for LaGuardia. Had to bathe, eat breakfast, and double check my packed bags. An Uber picked me up at 3:30 a.m. and I was at the airport by 4:05.

Got through security, which is a bit of a ‘thing’ when you’ve got a camera bag with you, and was soon cooling my heels at the gate drinking an expensive cup of coffee, purchased at the terminal. The plane landed on time, and my Pal Val picked me up in her car. The plan was to park her auto nearby the ferry stop in Astoria, and then board a boat for a NY Harbor Photo Safari.

I needed to smell salt water again, Y’see.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

I will admit to getting a bit emotional at times during the four days I was back home. It had more to do with the broken ankle situation, and reclaiming the walking physicality I’ve been working so assiduously to regain, than any sort of homesickness. Really felt like the end of the ankle story had finally arrived. Seeing my friends and colleagues again was just icing on the cake.

Physically speaking, I was running on adrenaline and caffeine. Back in Pittsburgh, I’m sleeping a solid eight hours a night. Get up early, go to bed early. It’s not like NYC back in Pittsburgh, as they roll up the sidewalks by nine or ten even on a weekend in the Paris of Appalachia.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

An interesting wrinkle discovered during this visit was that my environmental adaptations have faded away. As the folk wisdom states ‘if you live by the sea, you don’t smell the salt or hear the waves,’ meaning that your brain ‘tunes out’ environmental background stimuli which it deems unimportant.

What that means is that I could smell it, all of it. I could hear it, I could feel it. Everything stunk, the entire city with its standing wave of 15-20 decibels noise, and the mixed aroma of garbage, deep fat fryers, and human shit.

The East River smelled like an unflushed toilet to me, although it wasn’t ‘in a state’ or anything. Nothing’s changed on the waterway, my perceptions of it have.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The cops appeared, as they always do in NYC, while the ferry navigated first to Roosevelt Island and then to Long Island City.

That’s another thing which is quite different in Pennsylvania – far fewer cops. One of my neighbors suggested we start up a bonfire in his back yard. I said no, claiming that NYPD would show up and hand out tickets and the. conduct warrant checks. My neighbor reminded me that we were in Pittsburgh. I laughed and said ‘you’ve never met the NYPD, have you?’

The ferry continued down the East River.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

One of the last things I’d do before heading back to Pittsburgh would involve the Queensboro Bridge’s newly opened pedestrian walkway, as a note, but you’re not going to see those photos for a while. During the four days I was in NYC, I walked close to thirty miles and shot close to 2,200 exposures – with much of that distance was expressed around a certain waterway which provides the currently undefended border of Brooklyn and Queens, as you’d imagine.

One of the goals for this trip was to test out my newly reconstructed ankle, and determine exactly how screwed I am moving forward. I brought the joint back to my testing environment, for a shake down cruise, basically.

I’m all ‘effed up.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

There was a not insignificant amount of swelling going on after returning back to Pittsburgh 96 hours later, but it’s also the first time that I’ve asked the assembly and meat and metal which my ankle has become to ‘push’ for multiple consecutive days in a row without any sort of rest period.

The past couple of months have seen ‘exercise days’ and ‘photo walks’ separated from each other by at least 72 hours of recovery time, post facto. All in all, the joint held up to my abuse and I didn’t find myself walking like the Batman villain Penguin again.

Back tomorrow with more from NYC.

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