In this cloistered age of Covid, I sleep a lot. Most days I sleep until noon. The best dreams happen in the morning just before waking. Today I had the most marvelous dream.
I am walking along Fifth Avenue. Many people are strolling the avenue — not rushing and bustling as they do on 42nd Street, just ambling, enjoying the sunshine and the camaraderie of the city.
I am the age I am now, in my seventies, and wearing an olive green shirt, tan suit, a camel hair coat and brown fedora, and a polished pair of tan shoes. I am a boulevardier.
I come to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, climb the steps and go inside. It is quite crowded. A lovely civilized and relaxed gathering of people walking about in thoughtful contemplation.
My attention is immediately drawn to a beautiful young woman with black hair who is seated at an information booth. I walk over to her and ask her directions to something or other, I forget the details.
We engage in a tête-à-tête. She seems quite taken with me and becomes beguilingly amorous. We talk about the city and its many charms.
She tells me she lives in the Village — Greenwich Village — and she tells me the address — 421 Tweet Street.
Tweet, I repeat, like a bird?
Like a bird, she says. Now I hope that odd street name has nothing to do with Twitter and “tweeting,” which would mar my wonderful dream with mundanity, so let’s say it has nothing to do with Twitter and everything to do with birds. I picture a quiet cobbled street bordered by trees.
She suggests that if I’m ever in the neighborhood to drop in. I say something to the effect that she is quite young and I am rather old — but she appears to care not about that.
I am in the foyer about to leave, but I am without my hat and coat, which I apparently removed at some point in the dream. I see them in a chair by the door. I don the coat and place the hat on my head and go outside into the sunshine.
I stand at the top of the steps and look at the people and the taxis on Fifth Avenue.
Ah, New York! I remember it well. I long for it now.
Billy, I have to admit you have a way with color coordinating 🦚 And I am happy to hear you ‘climb the steps’, even though it’s only a dream, I suppose it still strengthens your memory muscles around squats to certain extent, so maybe it can be counted as a workout? 🐾 And I get to learn a new word today ‘boulevardier’ – it sounds quite tasteful and sassy, borderline sexy, no wonder that lady bird gives you a tweet about something so out of ordinary, even I feel a desire to visit her quiet cobbled tree-lined street … Thanks for sharing such a sunny dream, Billy, I get to have my sunbath through it (I don’t even have to go outside and suddenly I am in New York!) 🍑
Dot, you say the best things — you have “a way with ‘word’ coordinating” — ah, yes, I was a boulevardier in my heyday, with a cozy pad on East 69th Street — now I slouch around my exurban hermitage in sweaters and jeans. Billy.
I know you were, Billy, I saw the pictures you shared. You’re the type who’s born to be a boulevardier 🍄 And you still are, such innate quality doesn’t disappear with age. I’ve got so much to learn from your way with word ☘️ Effortlessly you gives a new tinge to the painting, and here we have the cozy image of a post-heyday boulevardier: a hermit in sweaters and jeans 🦆 Keep writing, Billy, how interesting and beguiling your mind works!
You have a beguiling mind of your own, and a brilliant mind, as your readers agree.
You honor an aging ‘boulevardier’ with your kind words. Wherever you live, be careful out there.
I’m glad I have the opportunity to read your posts. I know it is not a big thing to say, but still I needed to say it. I like the word boulevardier and so I have added it to my private glossary. I am one of them. Thank you.
Hi Olga, thank you for saying that — two boulevardiers in the great cities of the world — I currently reside a little over an hour north of mine (intended as a healing place for my wife), but I shall return.
I wish you a safe return soon. Take good care of yourself meanwhile and thank you very much for taking your time to reply to my comment.
Just one more thing. I’ve just remembered that when I read your past post about the intention to change the direction of your life, that inspired me to draw something. Please, do not think this is to ask you to visit everything I do, of course you don’t have to, but for this particular case, I was now checking on some things in my computer and on the blog and I saw it again, what I did (March 15th) and I find it so curious that it is about a person walking towards a skyline of a city. I had no idea about your whereabouts or past life or intention to go back to the city, but here’s the sketch that foresaw something. Whatever, it was just a dedicatory from inspiration, but I really hope you like it. The post is titled “New Road”. Thank you again, Bill.
Olga, I went back through your posts and found the picture you did. As I noted in the comment I missed that one at the time and now I see it’s “To Bill” I am honored beyond words — and I love the painting. As I said in the reply I copied it and will keep it. Wow, this is amazing! Bill
Thank you, Bill. I read very few posts, I mean, I follow very few blogs and yours is one of them. I do it because I find it honest and well written. It also helps me grow in my way of thinking. I mean it.
Thanks Olga, it means a lot to me to hear that, and I follow you because you are uniquely talented, your paintings are gently muted yet strongly evocative, like a beautiful person quietly entering a room.
https://twitter.com/outosego/status/1246516505421975553
Thank you, from 421 Tweet Street!
haha… you’re welcome Sir !
Well, I don’t know what to say, Bill. I do really appreciate your words and to say this is to say very little for what I feel. Thank you so much. Stay safe and best wishes.