I walked on the new section of the High Line

Never Done: I walked on the brand new section of the High Line

Today's Never Done blog post was going to be about my first ever Lobster Roll Rumble, but then it turned out the tickets cost well over $100, and so my friend Barbara and I decided to have our own lobster roll rumble, and get a Lobster Place lobster roll from Chelsea Market (which I've never done, being primarily a fan of Luke's) and take it up to the High Line for a picnic.

We both invited our partners (I got to meet Art for the first time) and met at the market just as the winds were blustering up and blowing in a storm. The rain and thunder and lightning came as soon as we got our meals, so the four of us hunkered down inside to eat and talk, and hoped that the storm would abate. Which it did. And just as we took a detour away from the High Line for the lobster roll, so will my story. Its hard to imagine I'll ever meet a lobster roll I don't like, and this one was no exception, but it's currently ranked third (of three) in my New York Lobster Roll rating chart, behind Luke's (currently placed #1) and Red Hook Lobster Pound, which actually has a truck at the new beer and food truck garden called the Lot on 30th, under the new northern end of the High Line. The Lobster Place roll had a good amount of meat, a little too much mayo for my taste, and nothing else special going on. No special spices, no celery or onion, no pickle. But like I said, it's not like I'd kick it out of bed. (Well maybe I would, because that sounds messy.)

So yes, the rain and thunder and lightning did abate enough for us to go up to the High Line -- as long as we didn't mind getting mildly wet and mildly electrocuted. And I'm telling you, just one step up there at dusk, in the drizzle, lush with plantings, lit at leaf level, and suddenly I felt transported to a cleaner, calmer (inner and outer) world. There's something about the High Line's interaction of plants with human-made elements that makes me think of Portland, OR. It's a clean and modern aesthetic -- new design, not old design. And yet it interacts with both old and new architecture -- as you walk along it, you see old brick buildings with faded painted signs, and you see new glass buildings with rippled metal siding. Last night there was supposed to be a Trisha Brown dance performance, but I guess a little thunder and lightning scared them off.

I was wearing a new pair of sandals that I didn't want to get wet and stretched out, so I kicked them off and took in the park barefoot. I got to walk on an incredibly soft new lawn, and over a cool, long stone pathway. It hurt a little to walk on the metal grating elevated path, but I tried to focus on the light and the rain and the foliage and the light -- all of which I found completely transporting. The High Line is like ... what's it like? It's like a trip out of the city, a calm road to a kinder, prettier place -- a place where I can go barefoot at night! A place where people get gently brushed by dripping leaves instead of jostled and groped by rushing commuters. The High Line is my urban Shangri-La. I should go more often. It turns me into a much more pleasant New Yorker. Thank you, Barbara, for suggesting it.

(And I just found out the Luke's won the fan favorite, and Mary's Fish Camp won the lobster jury award. Who wants to go to Mary's?)