Now that I live just 30 minutes away from “the city,” I plan on taking advantage of the events, sights and highlights that weren’t as easy to access when I lived near Albany. Noted authors at the Barnes and Noble at Union Square? I’ll be there. The Brooklyn Museum? It’s next on my list, not only for the art work, but also as an opportunity to go back to the borough where I lived for nearly 30 years.
On January 2nd, when I arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it was to meet my son John. Each year, he celebrates his birthday by going to a museum or another interesting place in New York. I had no idea, however, that thousands of others would also decide that John’s birthday was the perfect day for the Met.
Though I grumbled about the hordes at the entrance, at the lines for the coat check and at the admission booths, the crowds soon were dispersed through the Met’s many galleries. However, I’ve promised myself that I won’t go there again on New Year’s Day weekend.
A few months ago I visited the Museum of the City of New York for the first time. The first time, despite having lived in Brooklyn until my mid-twenties. Despite its location several blocks north of the Met. Despite my stated love of the city. I’m remiss, too, in not any recent visit to the New York Historical Society. Could my last visit have been when I was in college?
The Guggenheim and MOMA are due for another visit, but I’ve still got a lot of catching up to do. So, if you have any suggestions, please let me know.
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