Amy Goodman and me

Writing at 38,000 feet, on my way home to Tucson from New York City. So close to a sliver of moon. No stars in sight.

Last night, Amy Goodman of “Democracy Now” watched “The Descendants” with us, completing a day of superb visual entertainment — The Metropolitan Museum of Art and its new wing with a cornucopia of riches from Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Central and South Asia. Turquoise glazed pottery, elaborate rugs, and all sorts of pieces I couldn’t have imagined were magnificent.

We extended our art experience to food, having a fabulous dinner at the Pashra Turkish restaurant on the upper west side. “Can you have a bad eating experience in New York?” I asked Brook. She said it was possible but rare.

Tiny lamb dumplings in a creamy yogurt sauce, grape leaves that were more dilly than usual, and lamb entrees all around. A smoky eggplant puree made a bed for my tender  lamb entree. I could see myself sipping coffee in Turkey.

After dinner it was still early for a Saturday night in the giant apple. Brook suggested a movie at the 23rd Street Cinema, which catered to the Chelsea neighborhood, a hip place. Spotting Amy Goodman after the movie at around 11 p.m., I considered saying hi. After all, I stood next to her at the  2004 alternative Democratic Convention across the river from the real one at Boston’s Fleet Center. She asked questions, while her assistant maneuvered one of those giant fuzzy microphones. A niche newspaper reporter, I used a tiny digital tape recorder. Amy and I and her assistant chatted a bit.

But we were part of the same crowd then. Brook said if I wanted to talk with Amy, she and Gian would wait outside: “Go ahead, mom, I know you want to.”

I decided not to. One political junkie ranting to another, that’s what a hi could become. What was the point? She was out with a friend on a Saturday night. I had  spent a superb New York day with my daughter and her boyfriend.

New York/Jersey City/ Newark Airport/Tucson. Too much eating back east but it was all so delicious. Back to regular life in Tucson — salads, soy cuties for dessert. Back to the desert and Dan, which is okay by me.


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