Creature Comforts. Literal creature comforts. I think if I'd had my pets with me in L.A. for the past 3 weeks, I wouldn't have been so distressed about every little thing that went wrong or was done wrong to me. It's just been a rolling frustration train. The flight back to JFK was 3/4 turbulent. I get back to NYC and try to unwind by seeing a movie w/my sweetie, and instead my mobile phone gets flushed down the toilet @ the theater (yes, I reached in and rescued it, but it's a soggy goner). See? Even in NYC (or on the way to NYC), things go wrong and infuriate. The difference being, I get to come home to my apartment of 12 years, cuddle with my cats and kiss my girlfriend. Instant anti-anxiety pill. Did I mention my meds were stolen by the infamous TSA personel as they handled my bags? So, I'll get another prescription and then a pedicure at my neighborhood nail place where they know my battered feet well... I can let it roll off my back, or feet or cats. You get the point.
The reason for my return East (aside from the need to aleviate extreme withdrawal symptoms)? The screening of "Two Hands," a doc short by
Nathaniel Kahn about the remarkable pianist
Leon Fleisher. How's this sound for a swanky evening?
1. Private screening of "Two Hands" @
Makor.
2. Triumphant concert by
Leon Fleisher @ Avery Fisher Hall.
3. Celebratory dinner with extraordinary people @
Cafe Des Artistes.
Nathaniel Kahn, Leon Fleisher & Katherine Jacobson
I think I can handle whatever L.A. throws at me for the next stretch. I'm Big Apple-fortified for now.
