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June, the short story · Jun 21, 08:33 PM

Pictures are up, on flickr and locally.

NEW YORK CITY

I drove to New Haven and took the North Shore Line into Manhattan. This was the Friday before last, and my sister Laura was waiting for me in New York. We stayed at the Chelsea International Hostel until Sunday morning. Some highlights: Troy, a Turkish grill on 9th Ave.; Diner 24 (read as “two four”) down on 15th St.; Chicago on Broadway; meeting Evan at Chipotle on 52nd St.. Additionally, my sister took a horse riding in Central Park, danced at Copacabana, and caught up with an old college friend.

It was a steamy weekend, and the hostel had no air-conditioning. Neither were there electric fans. Lying still on the bunks was ok, as long as you don’t move your arms, or legs, or turn your head. On Saturday the third floor shower was broken; no cold water.

Laura and I are both still star-struck by New York, the city. You take off your show to throw it and your likely to hit two great places to eat and a mass transit terminal.

NEWPORT

Laura returns with me to Newport and we have diner with Merrillee at Lucia’s (good Italian, on the finer side of dining). Later in the week we two also try out Locco (modern mexican), The Fifth Element (trying-hard-to-be-hip bar/grill with steamed soy beans on the appetizer menu), and the Indian Grill. Then my dad’s parents join us. We had a great dinner at Salas’ despite being seating in the loud, dark corner. The next night the grandparents grilled for us at their coach, which has about the same square footage when all the wings are extended as my flat.

The week blurs together. Mom and dad show up. We do a harbor tour cruise. We hit a couple mansions (Laura loves the Breakers. She toured it three times). They see the Cliff Walk. Dad stayes behind, sick. I point out history and stuff.

Newport’s history begins with Quakers and Jews fleeing Mass. and Conn. seeking freedom from religious persecution. The slave trade unloads sugar and goods from the south before returning across the Atlantic. The continental congress meets in Newport and the Declaration of Independence is read (both from a building I drive past every day). The British occupy and blockage the town. The giants of early American industry build their summer cottages and inspire America’s Cup and The Great Gatsby. Now tourist droves flood the port town all summer. It’s jazz and court tennis and polo and wine lists all around.

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