Staring out and through the lens of a clear window pane, what confirmation have we that what we see is a reflection of the present and not the past mocking us…
I’d spent the entire day beginning 8:00 am searching the Greenwich Village area of the city, straight up 8th Ave to W 14th street; and wandering further, the immediate streets surrounding the Flatiron Building.
Pipe smoke gray sky served as blank pallet for seasonal storm clouds and had spread like a child’s finger painting, I didn’t like that they looked as if they’d come to stay; all the while questions riddled my brain silly – was I fooling myself.. was this an insane idea, a misguided attempt at self redemption.. who was I really trying to save?
The kid was a 30 year old adult who, in all probability, wouldn’t consider talking to me let alone accepting “life advice” from a semi absentee father, and yet I couldn’t let go of the question on endless loop: how will I know if I don’t find him and at least try?
Into acting, he’d moved to New York City solely for that purpose so it makes sense to concentrate my search where aspiring thespians and the artsy crowd hang, right? (the devil on the left shoulder once again whispering “who you kidding man, give it up”).
Exhausted, I’d stopped a random passerby on the street for the time, feet still moving I let my body take me wherever it wanted; wherever was Johnny’s Bar on Greenwich Ave., local hangout dive bar, it was right up my alley.
8:00 PM during the week didn’t exactly see the joint rockin’; eyeing an opening at the bar close to the jukebox, I sat down, ordered a shot and chaser not immediately noticing the young guy 3 stools down; glances exchanged, mutual nods, I contemplated the next stop in my search.