Mary Wilke: Isn’t it beautiful out?
Isaac Davis: Yeah, it’s really so pretty when the light starts to come up.
Mary Wilke: Yeah, I know. I love it.
Isaac Davis: Boy, this is really a great city, I don’t care what anybody says - it’s really a knockout, you know? – Manhattan (1979)
Alexis, my only daughter, my youngest, my baby girl, moved to New York City yesterday. OH MY GOD, NO!!!!
Sorry, I’m all right now.
Truth be told, I recommended she go, as much as I’ll miss her I think it’s a great move. Oh, and a job once she gets there would be nice. She has a pretty good lead on one so we’ll see.
The first time Kathy (her mom) and I went to Gotham was, I believe, in 1988, in the fall. It was cool and damp. Sounds good so far, right?
I had agreed to go, but less than willingly. However, almost immediately after we arrived, and the big yellow taxi carried us from LaGuardia towards Manhattan, the magic that’s there, whatever it is, began to work on me. No way to describe what the place is and the enormousness of it all. From the city blocks to deli sandwiches, it’s all bigger. And it engulfs you, swallows you up and takes over.
We stayed at the Regency, at 61st and Park Avenue. Soon after we arrived, Kathy and Chevy Chase went through the revolving door entrance at the same time. He made a face at her and she was thrilled.
We walked the few blocks towards the park and turned south when we got to 5th Avenue, passing The Pierre and then F.A.O. Schwartz and The Plaza, Pulitzer Fountain and the line of horse-drawn carriages lined up on Central Park South.
After a drink in the Oak Bar we made our way into the park. It was October and all around it was orange, yellow and red. The wide path we followed was covered with autumn.
We walked a while and soon saw a large group of 50 or 60 people watching something nearby and went to check it out. The first thing I noticed were the large cameras; the second thing was the large man in front of them, he was speaking expressively to two others, a smaller man with a beard and a beautiful blond woman wearing a hat. We came closer and the crowd laughed at something the smaller man said. Then we could see them clearly. It was Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan; the larger man, who also wore a beard, was Rob Reiner, the director of the movie scene we had luckily stumbled upon from, “When Harry Met Sally.”
Another man began asking for quiet and Reiner took his director’s chair seat. I waited for him to say, “Action,” but instead I think it was something like, “And, now.”
Some guy came up on a bike and whispered to Kathy. “What’s this?” he asked.
“They are making a movie,” she told him. “That’s Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan.”
The biker watched the scene with the rest of the mortal crowd. They finished and Billy hugged Meg and we all clapped.
“I’ve lived in this city 20 years and this is the first time I’ve seen a movie being made,” the biker told us.
“We’ve been here 20 hours,” Kathy told him. “First for us too.”
At that he smiled, waved and rode away. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all, I thought.