playing tourist

My back feels the same. Miserable. But moving is good. Staying still is not.

I go to a museum, but not a big famous touristy one.




I've been wanting to see the exhibit Anti Semitism 1919-1939. 

When I saw The Power of Poison, an  exhibit at The American Museum of Natural History a couple of years ago, I remember snaking through room after room. Same with a lego exhibit I saw in 2013. And even recently when I saw the work of cartoonist Roz Chast at The Museum of the City of New York; multiple large rooms held her work. The exhibit I see today is not like any of these.

I read every word of copy. And still, I am able to see the entire exhibit in 30 minutes. It takes up less space than my bedroom. But its power is not diminished by its compactness. A sign about the exhibition states that it traces the "incremental stages by which anti-Semitism moved from ideology to state policy and finally, to war." It's a frightening testimony to how one man's insidious beliefs can systematically sneak into a culture and poison it.

I also learn some Hamilton history (to prepare me for finally seeing the show next February 22 when the cast has completely changed). And I love the multi-screen movie about New York's history, ending with Jay-Z and Alicia Keys singing Empire State of Mind.  That song grabs me every time I hear it.

Then tonight I see a play. Not a big Broadway musical. A quiet, off-broadway piece of theater. I meet Jill downtown on Barrow St. to see a thought-provoking play originally staged in London.

It doesn't matter how many times I go to the West Village; every time I'm there I have to ask for directions. Or, I can get lucky and bump into someone I know who lives downtown, as happens tonight.  

I love playing tourist, but am glad I'm just playing. 

I've been living here for over 31 years and the novelty still hasn't worn off.