Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Same Time, Next Month

One of the great things about New York is that despite thousands of stores and restaurants you can go to, you can also have just about anything delivered right to your doorstep. But it's not just things, it's services too. Cleaning people, dog walkers, gardeners, cat sitters -- and in my case, I have a totally self-indulgent service. I have a mobile spa which comes once a month and I get a manicure, pedicure and waxing right in the comfort of my own home.

But this is not just any ordinary spa. The business is called Green Spa on the Go (check out their website at http://www.greenspaonthego.com/). Did you ever think about the chemicals in nail polish remover? Well, this mobile spa uses only organic products -- even for remover and polish. Everything the manicurist uses smells of something wonderful -- lavender, green tea, roses, figs, mango. You can see why I am totally spoiled.

The business is owned by Marianella and she has come to me for more than a year now, once a month, and I think about how you get to know someone a few hours at a time. We end up talking about everything -- family, weather, business, faith, gossip, world events. She is Venezuelan and we talk about customs, holidays and today how native speakers can tell which Spanish-speaking country someone is from listening to them speak. How a chuleta is a pork chop in Mexico and Venezuela, but not in Argentina.

I have a friend, Barbara, who I have lunch with once a month. We've done this for 17 years, and I believe in that time, we've missed two months. Rarely do I talk to her between our lunches, except maybe the day before to confirm the lunch is still on our calendars, but I know the lunches are important to both of us. It's the best way we know to make it a priority to stay connected.

In all those years, only a few of our lunches stand out. One was the lunch we had planned on September 14, 2001 -- the Friday after 9/11. I remember talking to her on the phone. Should we still do our lunch? Nobody knew the rules any more -- are you allowed to be social in these dark days?

The energy in the city was different then -- so subdued. The rhythm, that natural buzz of the city wasn't there, and it took months for it to return. We did meet, and I remember after lunch, we walked out on Broadway and 86th Street and there was a convoy of huge bulldozers and other equipment on tractor trailers coming down Broadway and people stood there, watching, and applauded. I'm not quite sure what we were applauding.

In the cab on the way home, the radio announcer made a call for "vets" to go to Ground Zero and, at first, I thought vets meant military personnel, but he meant vets as in animal doctors. It turned out that many of the rescue dogs on site had burned paws from walking on hot metal. It's hard to not cry when I think about that.

I have told non-New Yorkers that there are two 9/11s in my mind. One is the made-for-tv movie politicized media event that I have no interest in. The other is the very personal one where memories of bulldozers and dogs with burned paws are as poignant today as they were that Friday.

1 comment:

Amy Laboda said...

Beautiful. And so true.