Who is that guy in the mirror? He looks just like my Dad, but about 4 inches taller.
I used to joke that I had "my Dad's hair. If he ever found out where it was, I'm in trouble." Now I know where it is, behind the bed, on my bathroom floor, growing from my knuckles, nose and ears.
I'm glad that the hot weather appears to be over. Parkinson's destroys your inner thermometer. Some people get extremely cold, I an always warm. The combination of that with a New York Summer, brings to mind the effect that Asparagus has on Number 1.
My wife is cold today, therefore I should wear a sweater. I don't get cold, until the temperature dips into the thirties.
Walking is difficult in the summer. If this weather pattern continues, I may try to take a walk in Central Park over the weekend. It's one of my favorite activities. I like to enter the park by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I look for the Egyptian Obelisk behind the Museum, and marvel about how in the 1880's, this, multi-ton structure, was rolled from Battery Park to its permanent resting place behind the Museum.
I bring my Camera with me. a couple of years ago, I was taking a picture of an Orange crested bird. A couple asked me what kind of bird it was. I said that, "I think it's an Oriole, but they're not in town this weekend." No laugh. Must have been Met fans.
I try to walk over to Strawberry Fields, but if you've ever walked in that park, it's difficult to know exactly where you are going. I exit wherever I find myself.
Ideally, I'd like to exit in the West seventies. I then take a leisurely stroll down Columbus or Broadway. I used to relax at the Barnes and Noble opposite Lincoln Center, but like many other bookstores, that is gone now.
I also loved to do this alone. There is something wonderful about solitude among the masses.
Of course all of this is dependent upon my having a good day. I loved to walk. Now more often than not, it is a struggle. These are the less than obvious things that are stolen by Parkinson's disease.
The disease and the advent of cell phones, have taken away solitude. I hate cell phones. People in what otherwise would be peaceful places discussing their hangnails to their friends. Clients who feel that it's not improper to call at any hour or day. If I go to the park, I may toss my phone in the reservoir.
Of course the disease makes the cell phone a necessity. I must always be able to make contact.
I would love a reprieve, even for a weekend. Columbus Day in New York can be wonderful. I remember in 1972 taking a date to the Guggenheim, walking Fifth Avenue to the bookstores, getting her a McGovern button, being a accosted by members of The Unification Church. New York memories.
Well the young lady is long married. The Bookstores are all close. McGovern got walloped. Thankfully Reverend Moon and The Unification Church have moved on. And that walk is difficult for an overweight 54 year old with a major neurological disease. But, I may try it.