Reasons #894 and #895 on why I love New York ~
Union Square Park

One of my very favorite New York moments happened a few Decembers ago. It was a cold night, flecks of snow falling from the sky. I was walking through the city and wound up in Union Square, stopping by for hot apple cider and a look at the holiday fair. But there sitting on a short concrete former fountain was a guy with an actual portable typewriter and a homemade sign that read "Poems." The sign said they were free but donations were certainly welcome.

Turns out he was a college kid, trying to make a few bucks. Several people were in line. They told him what they wanted their poem to be about. He posed a few questions and he took a skinny strip of paper and typed the poem right there. I walked away but, curious, I returned. I waited my turn and then he asked me what I'd want the poem to be about and I said, "My husband." He asked me to describe him in one sentence, a kind of defining sentence. "He's a good man," I said. He asked for just a handful of other details. He was a poem or two behind, so he asked me to come back in 20 minutes.
When I did, there was a poem, real and true.
A poem that captured a guy he'd never met.
By then his hands were red with cold and more people were in line. I gave him $25 and I took
home that precious poem on a thin piece of light blue paper. I framed it and gave what might have been one of the best Christmas presents I've had the luck to give.

Take two/Union Square.
Last Saturday we were walking and came upon three guys in folding chairs holding up signs that said, "Advice 25 cents." Sure enough, there were people lined up. I stepped into line and posed a question to a guy named Scott. He was quite thoughtful about the question. He mulled it over. He took his time and talked it out. What he said gave me pause. "Are you a psychologist?" I asked, figuring he wasn't. No, he chuckled, he's a creative director and he showed me a bottle of juice he'd designed. The guy sitting next to him taught or went to MIT. I asked him what prompted him to set up his shingle there. He wanted to know the community more, hear what was on people's minds and offer something to them.

We walked back through the park much later in the day and he and others were still there, giving advice, piles of quarters and dimes and nickels in the cups on the ground in front of them.