Manhattan Chronicles (or The time when Nat spoke to Jay-Z for two seconds and wouldn’t shut up about it. Yes, it really happened. Don’t ask.)

 

As they say in New York, no news is good news. Summer has arrived. We have been quietly establishing ourselves in our new neighbourhood – the aptly named Turtle Bay. We are one block away from the East River, near Roosevelt Island.

Our building is on a cherry-blossom tree-lined E52nd St, which is quite close to the United Nations. We are on the same street as the Consulate General of Thailand, Consulate General of Hungary and the Austrian Cultural Forum. Also, across the road from us is a Norwegian Church, which looks suspiciously like a regular apartment building.

We are in what is known as a “full-service” building. This means that we have a doorman, whose sole purpose is to open the door and greet us as we enter and exit the building, convenient in many regards. In addition to providing smooth passage onto 52^nd street, I personally also use the revolving cavalcade of doormen (who are primarily of Latino extraction) as an excellent opportunity to practice my Spanish. Jose says that I am improving.  La lluvia en España se mantiene principalmente en la llanura.

We continue to furnish our apartment, which means more furniture shopping trips. Natalie relishes every opportunity to compare, examine, and after much deliberation, eventually purchase lampshades, salad bowls and cushions. Her attitude towards our IKEA visits is best summarized by this:

 

 

Mine is more like this:

We have ordered a blue tufted couch, which is still making its way to us from Canada, after 6 weeks in transit. “Any day now...” Ruiz keeps mumbling to herself.  We still have no curtains or blinds, which means I happily get to satisfy all of my exhibitionist urges, of which, let’s be honest, there are many. However, being on the 8^th floor, we don’t really fear any spying from nosey neighbours, much to my chagrin. As I tell Ruiz, I’m just trying to give something back.

The Connors household will soon be undergoing a reshuffle as I have recently acquired my American personal training qualifications. As a result, I officially begin the process of interviewing for positions. I will be attempting to convince potential employers to hire me based my outstanding client results, commitment to excellence and my claim that I invented the chin up. This means that Natalie can no longer expect to have me fussing over her steak dinner when she returns from a hard day at work. So she can say goodbye to this:

(Ed: It is remarkable how when you cross the Pacific your appearance in photos change. Connors calls it the Kravitz syndrome. He assures me the research is legit and has been peer reviewed.)

As I mentioned, Natalie has been working very long hours and she spends many a reluctant “networking” night with her co-workers. Through her new friends, we have been lucky enough to be introduced to some of the finest refreshment establishments NYC has to offer. The hidden bar/speakeasy phenomenon requires all sorts of secret handshakes, “Get-Smart” style false doors and special rituals to be observed before gaining access to the most lethal cocktails known to mankind. Often, Nat has come home “networked” out of her brain, usually in a feisty mood. When I was tardy making her midnight snack of two-minute noodles, she referred to me as a “shit particle”. Haven’t made the same mistake again.

In addition to channeling my inner Betty Draper and studying for my exam I have utilized my time to view several documentaries on Netflix. In keeping with my Aspergers tendencies I will rank my top five:

5. Going Big

The story of the 1984 NBA draft, where Sam Bowie was selected second ahead of the G.O.A.T., Michael Jordan.

4. Jiro Dreams of Sushi

A compelling story of one man’s quest for perfection.

3. Cocaine Cowboys

The film explores the rise of cocaine and resulting crime epidemic that swept Miami, Florida in the 1970s and 1980s.

2. The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975

A chronological approach to the civil rights movement, the Black Panthers and related phenomenon.

1. Dear Zachary A beautifully edited tragedy that leaves you emotionally exhausted.
  

We are preparing ourselves for an Australian influx for the summer, highlighted by the visit of Jane Connors in June. I can only pity the person she is seated next to on the plane as there would have been calmer passengers on the Hindenberg. Too soon?

We have been fortunate to spend time with our good friends Trent and Rebecca who recently had an extended stay in the States. When I asked Trent what the highlight of his trip was, he pondered for a second and spoke at length about the various museums he had visited, concerts he attended and the rich cultural tapestry that weaves throughout New York. Yet, when ultimately pressed, he answered: “The titties at burlesque night at Bathtub Gin.” A true Renaissance man!

Our plans for the summer are as follows:

I am investigating the possibility of joining a softball team, with the modest aim of hitting every pitch for a home run. Natalie has warned me about hubris, but I said I don't care - I play the ball, not the man.

Natalie has made no definite plans, as she is waiting to hear from her new imaginary best friend Jay-Z as to what they'll do this summer. She dreams of sipping Grey Goose at the 40/40 Club in the VIP section. *shakes head ruefully* I'm not going to be the one to break it to her.

We want to offer our belated congratulations to Pachi and Maria Rodriguez on the birth of Nicholas. We are also so proud of JB and Renee for their most recent addition, Sofia.