11,747. RUDIMENTS pt. 681

RUDIMENTS pt. 681

(I slunk away, no words exchanged)

You know what I will say?

Experiencing weather in

New York City is like

nothing else; of course I

can't speak for Bryce

Canyon, the Netherlands,

or downtown Beijing, but

I'm talking about NYC. I

imagine a most difficult

thing is for me to try and

draw a writing picture of

3am, Chelsea, Village, or

Hell's Kitchen, during a

real snowstorm A real one,

not a 'weatherman' one  -

which is usually like

powder with 7mph winds.

Those people get all twisted

up and carried away. Even

a good, blinding rainstorm,

in NYC, becomes a major

environmental event. It's

all very cool, and the factors

of it all are magnified because

in all other aspects in quite an

un-natural place. There are so

many outlandish factors that

one takes, unwittingly, into

consideration and these each

alter directly the experience of

he event : First off, the heights

of everything, and the canyon

effect that produces, which

whips wind, curlicues it around

corners, which is understandable -

but also brings in other factors,

vertical factors. Yes, you can

experience rain, and snow, going

UP as it's coming down. The

sidelong wind-currents at the

tall buildings create updrafts

and, like a piece of confetti or

an ash of smoke, are driven up,

instead of down. Windblown

snow, and drifts resultant are

one thing, but everyone's seen

that  -  this is different in that

the quality of the action, and

foreign in all respects to one's

normal expectation,  is upward.

Upward in the same way an

umbrella gets turned (and ruined)

inside out, and in the same way

an unwitting, maybe non-city,

female suddenly has her dress

or loose skirt set to immodest

heights. (It's OK, dearie, you're

secret's safe with me). That

same upward draft draws all

things  -  candy wrappers to

garbage. Then there's the sound;

the rip and roar of that same

wind. Then there's the idea, little

thought of, of all that rain and

moisture careening off glass and

concrete; slapping on roadways

and corners, and, in fact, flowing

in huge gushers and eddies

sometimes. All of that indecent

infrastructure never see, is

overwhelmed often enough,

so that the gushers too become

corners establishments of half

frozen sludge, or solid ice too.

Winter can be harsh and unforgiving,

and just as much so in the way

it corrals people into narrower

spaces for walking  -  sometimes

snow paths and weird canyons.

There are so may things unheard

of or little thought of, and, as I

said, I'm sure it happens as well in

Pittsburgh, Akron, and Cleveland

too. It's in the nature of Nature

to be 'Nature'  -  only a drunk in

the gutter is ever truly de-natured,

and that's probably because he

just drank some de-natured alcohol.

By mistake?

-

So what are these differences? I know

for a fact that the City of New York

pays out multi-millions each year

on personal injury claims, lawsuits,

bogus by percentage or not, for

broken limbs, torn cartilage, twisted

this or that, loss of reasoning

power, onset of anxiety and grief,

etc., etc., for any of these factors.

It's crazy, and like a constant

skirmish, an ambush, undertaken

by voracious 'Lawyers.' Sometimes

there are so many strange things

that go on that you end up saying,

That didn't really just happen,

right?' People getting punched,

and into and through, plate glass.

A bum on the street, usually, say,

meek and complacent, seeking

a quarter or a dime (used to be),

suddenly goes vile (the old days'

equivalent of going viral today,

when in the old days 'going viral

would mean Bubonic Plague or

some fierce Flu) and sets off after

someone who smirked, or whatever.

Weirdest one is the person who

gets run over by a personal injury

attorney going too speedily to the

court date the attorney's late for. In
all this,money abounds, everywhere.

It's a snow-city of cash and

gold for the right party.

-

Some days, with a wave of the

hand, I'd cast it all away, wanting

to be gone, seeking nothing. I did,

however, always want a really

good soprano saxophone; something

I've still never gotten and probably

just as well. The idea is to learn well

what it is you're already doing  -  in

my case, piano  -  already versed in

the cloak of that coverage. Why

start something new, and anyway,

soon enough along came the weirdos,

like Kenny G, taking all that crap

away from me. After him, who'd 

want anything of that? On time,

to my great diminishment, I strode

into one of those piano showroom

places intent on playing some piano,

for myself; just to see what all that

was like on a really great Bosendorfer

or whatever they were, Steinway, some

great name. Some one else, to whom

I'd told this desire, prodded me along

saying, 'Oh you should just do it;

they'd probably not mind and, besides

they probably do very little all day.'

So, one day I did it. Not a word said.

Wouldn't you know they apparently

had a real strategy in place for 

something like this. A big, neatly 

uniformed-for-sales, black guy

comes out, sits at the piano nearest

to me, and begins playing, louder 

than I was, and far better, some 

masterful etudes or bagatelles or 

caprices, really good stuff. Oh boy.

I sling away, no words exchanged.

It was as if one of those very cold

updrafts had lifted me up, and out.
-
I could just imagine that guy's job
interview. 'Well, Martin, we'll want 
you to look the part, look good as one
of our high-toned piano-sales-reps,
but if and whenever one of those
street sluggos come in, you'll have to
step right to it  -  you play really well,
by the way  -  and take a near-by
bench and overplay and outclass that 
person until he leaves. We can't
just throw them out, and no words
need even be spoken. Got it?'