Saturday was the last day for my one person show in NYC and therefore the final day we needed to make our way into "The City" to sit the show and "meet n greet n grip n grin". The weather was predicted to be cool but with no precipitation in sight. That was heartening because, as I have reported, each Saturday past presented some variation on sleet/snow/fog/heavy rain. Driving home from the train station was challenging.
So off we went to the train station. We arrived in the famous twenty acre parking lot early (good driving conditions, low traffic) and we began the long walk to the actual station.
A woman immediately flagged us and asked whether we had a shovel as her Prius was frozen into a snow bank. We didn't but offered to try and push her out but it was apparent that real digging was needed. Her niece was on the way with a snow shovel. (Word to the wise: Triple AAA doesn't offer snow help; who knew!)
We continued on our way and were flagged down by another woman who said the trains were not running south of the station because of power outages on the line due to Wednesday's snow event. We were faced with a choice: take a bus- provided free by Metro North- to Golden's Bridge (about 20 minutes south) or drive. Timing was important as the drive could potentially be accomplished and the train met without loosing time.
We jumped back into the truck, Bob put it in reverse and VVVVVViiiiiZZZZZZZZ!! The truck spun on the packed snow and ice and refused to move. We tried everything: a blanket under the rear tires, a large sheet of plywood under the tires, a helpful fellow NYC-bound commuter who actually volunteered to try and push the truck. Nothing worked. I thought- for one insane second- of asking Bob if he had his camera handy to take a few pictures*... but NO! Neither one of us was in the mood for pictures or levity and I wondered how we had been magically transported back to some gulag in Siberia. What about my brilliant art world debut?!??! We needed to get to NYC!
Finally, Bob began whaling away at the ice with the truck jack and I used a claw hammer thing and the stuck Prius woman's niece arrived and lent us a snow shovel and a bag of kitty litter. We were cold and wet and pretty miserable... but the truck sailed backwards and we were free.
I guess we can thank the god's on high that we hadn't decided to simply jump on the bus because we would have arrived back at the dark and colder parking lot late at night to discover a stuck truck. We drove to the end of the parking lot closer to the station- where the pavement was clear and there was no chance of getting stuck- and decided the best option was to be bused to Golden's Bridge for the next train service. We were assured there would be a bus meeting every returning train. The metro employees were very helpful and accommodating and apologetic. What else could possibly go wrong?
How about a very weird bus trip? The bus was warm as we waited to depart, but I was troubled when I thought I overheard the bus driver asking directions to the train station. No, I thought, I must be wrong. They must have GPS. But the bus driver embarked on a circuitous and bizarre back roads ride to the next station. Even that seemed sort of understandable as maybe that was the fastest way to Brewster? When the driver got on the highway, I sighed a deep breath of relief... until he got off the highway too soon and despite staring straight at a sign with an arrow clearly pointing left to our destination, he turned right. I was not alone (there were at least fifty people on that bus) in groaning. Turning the bus around, we somehow staggered into the train station and boarded the train. We were now really late and it seemed like a particularly idiotic episode of the twilight zone.
I will not continue to bore you with the fact that we then sat and waited for another fifteen minutes for another (probably lost) bus to arrive and make the connection. Yes, we made it to NYC and of course there was more construction on the downtown local subway so we had to get off and walk further to the gallery. Really? At that point, I was thoroughly through with public transportation!
Fortunately, despite extreme lateness and circumstances very beyond our control, the truncated day went well, and people- significant people!- showed up. I tried my best to seem unflappable and as if live was just great and things had gone oh-so-smoothly. I think I was successful?
And we took my show down. And we made the train (and bus) back to the truck- which started up and moved just fine on dry pavement.
There were at least 75 times on Saturday that I felt like throwing up my hands and saying, "Really? Why is this so fucking hard?" Is the universe trying to... what? Test me? Kill me? But I will recommend that artists are made of sterner stuff. We persist!
* The above picture is of a miniature metal truck stuck in snow on the top of the horse barn. Symbolic but not as painful as the actual full-size stuck F 150!
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