Somebody please cue to the Star Wars theme. In a galaxy not so far away, lived a lad. Like any proper New York singleton, he resided in a modest fifth floor walk-up.
One morning he glanced out his window. There was snow, snow and more snow (not unusual, but hey it’s winter). “It looks like the set of the Empire Strikes Back,” he proclaimed. Naturally, it appeared that way, if the “Empire Strikes Back” were set in New York City. Like a courageous Luke Skywalker facing Darth Vader, he braved the elements. Successfully, he reached the subway and made it to work, in the face of another blizzard.
As expected, I am referring to yours truly and my random fascination with Star Wars. I didn’t have Chewbacca, C-3PO, Hans Solo, Yoda or Princess Lea on the voyage from Harlem to Grand Central Station. So, this is where I fast-forward the story.
While galloping around the icy sidewalks of Harlem, I thought to myself “no major blizzard (9.5 inches of snow) will keep me away from a wonderful walk. I felt triumphant, as I successfully maneuvered through the frozen canyons and icy puddles. The Star Wars theme continued to play in the radio station of my brain, ” Cardigns 95.5 FM- New York.”
Then with much disruption, radioactive transmission stopped. It finally happened, I had met my match with black ice. I flipped backwards, landing on the slippery pavement. My stuff flew alongside the perfectly appointed brownstone block.
Wait isn’t this the part, where my life flashes before my eyes? I thought in great panic. I expected to see a montage of memorable events, then the unthinkable happened. “Oh yeah, I didn’t bump my head, I landed on my tuckus,” said I, as I picked myself up slowly
The fall really hurt, but I attempted to find humor in my mishap. While walking home, I watched every step more carefully.
As the weekend approached, the Jedi did indeed return. I was enjoying the snow, immensely. Regardless of experiencing pain from the fall, I still adored the wintery weather. On the weekend, I took a journey into Central Park.
Snow fell from the sky, while blinding the eye. There were snowmen; families sledded down the powdery hills and an unexpected musical accompaniment. While there was a commercial break on Cardigans FM, I was serenaded by the sounds of a saxophone player. It made the perfect soundtrack to a most memorable New York moment.