The Quintessential Manhattan Party

Tonight, a party in a classic loft apartment full of original art and   interesting people (read – a guy with a hat and a couple whowore matching clothes).  Mac & cheese, meat loaf and plentiful supplies of cake. Jazz trio and two young pianists vying for our ear.

In NYC, up until now we have only been to other Europeans’ apartments with other Europeans as guests.  The reliable ex-pat circulars of leaving parties and housewarmings.  In this instance, our real estate agency wanted to say “Thanks” with a party and get it in before the Thanksgiving rush (well, rush for some – we’re still waiting for an invite for turkey dinner, hint, hint).

I was expecting a bar somewhere with a rolling presentation of apartments to rent, and brochures all laid out.  Then, even when entering the 5th floor Tribeca apartment, I thought, oh hang on, this must be an apartment they are trying to rent out, the  market is quiet and so they’re hosting a party there – cool idea.  But no. The owner (of both the apartment and the real estate agency) had invited us into her own home.  A senior-looking little lady, she was stylish with an open face but with a hint of frailty.  Her son’s artwork hung on her walls and someone called Brian had made all the food.

M returned form the kitchen, astonished at the eccentric salad-spoon manoeuvres of a pushy tall skinny guy behind him with a big mop of hair.  Next minute the same guy is tinkling away at the grand piano, in some kind of a personal contest with a gothic girl. She was way better. It could have been a scene from a Woody Allen movie if it weren’t for the lack of angst and intellectual rambling.

So, anyway, now I feel like a New Yorker.  Or someone who knows New Yorkers, at least.  Ok, then, someone who buys stuff off New Yorkers and spends enough money to be invited to their house.


The high drama of election night

obama graffiti art

Awaiting the results coming in via CNN, at home on the sofa with M, it just didn’t seem  that exciting so we rushed down the road to The Onion’s bash in the LES, then rushed back home to get ID and then rushed back to the bar.  Once inside we found a big screen at the back and at the bar, a quite white crowd and smelly take-outs surrounding us. Still not really that exciting, people seemed grumpy to me, which is odd because I thought The Onion’s bandwagon would be good for a laugh.  Same old anti-climatic coverage from CNN, not really communicating the significance of the Ohio and Pennsylvania wins when they came in.

So coming up to 11pm and Obama on just over 200 electoral votes, having been inching up slowly over the last hour.  Gearing up to go home, thinking even though the West coast polls were closing at 11pm, it would take another hour for votes to be processed. But no!  Bang on 11pm, CNN flashes up Barack Obama is the new President of the United States, electoral votes hiked up to over 300 just like that.  Ok, thanks for the heads up, guys.

Good speeches from both McCain and Obama, the latter in particular appearing incredibly serious right from the beginning of his victory speech, allowing himself only a few smiles.  Quite sobering, amidst all the celebrations going on. It got me thinking of what a heavy load to bear he now has, together with the worries of keeping himself and his family safe from harm.

Unfortunately I’d had loads of coffee to prepare me for a long night, and now found myself too wired to sleep after it was all over by midnight or so.

PS Where’s Peter Snow when you need him?

Obama mannequin