Say Cheese

Josh finally made it in from Montreal. He took the Magic Bus (I was going to link to the M60 route, but it's a post-hurricane service advisory right now) from LaGuardia to the 106th and Broadway, and showed up at the JCC in the late afternoon. I was ready for a break -- had been working steadily all day without one, so we went out for a walk along Central Park West, to see what the park looks like. (The park looked fine where we walked -- barely saw anything, actually.) We cut in along 83rd Street, and I remembered that there's a farm to table grilled cheese place there, which even has some gluten-free bread.

I want to step back for a moment and say that one of the things I've noticed about this joy-seeking project so far is that although I'm not the best at feeling pure joy, or maybe because I'm not the best at feeling pure joy, that I think the greatest value may well be in seeking joy, regardless of if I find it. In fact, not just the value, but the actual practice is probably the seeking not the finding.

So we went into the fancy farm to table grilled cheese store, and we ordered sandwiches and we put together some beer with some rosemary lemonade, which was a spectacular combination, and we talked with the guy behind the counter about how he fared in the storm and he asked us how we fared in the storm. Josh mentioned that he'd been stranded in Montreal. The guy said, "Really? I got stranded too." I asked him where he lives. He said he lives at 111th Street. I asked him how he could have gotten stranded at 111th Street. He looked at me, and then admitted, "Well basically I just didn't want to leave my apartment for a couple days."

I mean, what do you say to that?

Except maybe smile, and sit down to eat your fancy grilled cheese with the tired guy you haven't seen in a week.