Category Archives: Your Groove I Do Deeply Dig

Unfold Your Body Is Free And Behold

Posted by Tata on

On Saturday afternoon at the South Cove in Battery Park City, each racer had a boat with a team and at least one kayaker. The racers stopped every fifteen minutes or so for water and a nibble. My cousin Sela was on the boat, with Regina in the water. Sela had told me Regina’s girlfriends traveled to New York and would be waiting in the park; I should look for “a bunch of crazy Guatemalan women with Guatemalan flags.” For an hour, I eavesdropped on every Spanish conversation and watched for flags. Pete was talking about something I instantly forgot when behind him I saw the blue and white Guatemalan flag unfurl and I ran around him to find four women in matching shirts with Regina’s face on them. There followed a lot of squealing and jumping up and down. Thank Kali I’d just spent months in physical therapy, specifically forbidden to jump up and down.

These women told me they’d been friends with Regina since pre-school and they’d all come to New York to celebrate their 45th birthdays. They were vivacious, loud and happy. Two Spanish-speaking EMTs joined the conversation and everyone talked at once. I was breathless with joy. We’d gotten used to the pattern by this time: in the distance, we’d see one of the big boats, then a kayaker, then flashes across the water’s surface that became a swimmer that swam right past us and finished the race. Then we saw this.

Tata: Those kayakers do not appear to have swimmers.
EMT: They’re all supposed to have swimmers. These guys may be something else.

I turned toward him slowly and with purpose.

Tata: Are you saying those are MARAUDING KAYAKERS?

He nodded slowly.

EMT: I suppose I am.

This might be a good time to mention the Guatemalan women had difficulty believing I was born in New Jersey, lived all this time in New Jersey and continued to live in New Jersey. In the distance, there, it doesn’t look like that much of an improbable suckfest.

With the Scenery Flying By

Posted by Tata on

Saturday morning, Pete and I climbed the long flight of concrete stairs to the train platform and walked a long way to an empty space against the wall. I heard an accordian and took the camera out of my bookbag. “Pete,” I said, “it is totally crucial that you take a picture because nobody believes that everywhere I go there’s theme music. If we’re very lucky, you’ll also capture the back up dancers.” Of course, you may be inclined to say, “Ta darling, those are people having their own lives. Your presence is a coincidence. Stop being so Center Of the Universe about it.” Shaaaa. Have you met me?

This is the only picture Pete took all day of something that wasn’t moving so obviously that’s the one out of focus. But it is important! All hail the bowl of Veselka’s borscht, the bowl of soup so sublime it must be experienced to be believed, and no shimmering verbiage approaches its epic yumminess. The ordinary bowl cannot contain it! The challah must sop its brothy goodness. Behold the borscht – and know that when you stare into the borscht, it stares into you!

The coffee was also pretty good.

Just De-Lovely And Delicious

Posted by Tata on

Holy crap!
Yesterday, my brilliant Guatemalan cousin swam the hell around Manhattan Island!

It’s been about thirty hours since Regina climbed out of the water, wrapped herself in mylar and a towel and ran to a crowd of friends she’s known since pre-school and I still don’t know what to make of what happened. What did I see? What was it? Who the hell knows? A Daily News reporter leaned over the railing with me after the first racers finished, pulled out a notebook and ran a sweaty hand through his hair. He asked if he could ask me a few questions. I said sure. Then he stuttered, “What do you make of all this?”

I gushed about the Twitter feed that started when the race did and mentioned Regina by name. The whole undertaking seemed preposterous and frightening, and the Twitter feed assured readers the race sponsors took the racers’ safety very seriously. Not a single thing I said made it into the article, but I totally didn’t care.

Strokes of genius ’round Manhattan
BY ZAK FAILLA AND CHRISTINA BOYLE _DAILY NEWS WRITERS
Sunday, June 7th 2009, 4:00 AM
It’s not the easiest way to get around Manhattan.

Dozens of swimmers braved the chilly waters of the Hudson and East Rivers yesterday to compete in the 27th annual marathon swim around the island.

The 25 solo racers and nine relay teams jumped in at Battery Park City to swim the 28.5-mile race – the best finishing in just over seven hours.

“The water was cold when we first started through the East River, and it warmed up around Harlem,” said George Pond, 43, whose relay team scooped first place.

“This is a great way to see New York, I highly recommend this to anyone.”

Large crowds cheered and applauded the swimmers from the shore, as boats honked their horns to show their support.

That’s us. We were very large but dressed in layers we shed as the temperature became less temperate.

“The Hudson was really choppy, so it was the biggest obstacle by far because you couldn’t get into a rhythm,” said John Van Wisse, 36, from Melbourne, Australia, who won first place in the solo race with a time of seven hours, 10 minutes and 35 seconds.

“I sing a lot of songs in my head during the race and try to go into a trance and focus on the stroke.

“The training is fairly intense,” he added. “The water was really clean considering the rain. It was a surprise.”
Swimmer Penny Palfrey won the female race, completing the challenge in seven hours, 17 minutes and seven seconds.

Most sports reporters use the word women’s when not referring to livestock.

The first-place six-man relay team was Vice Lords, with a time of seven hours, 12 minutes and 42 seconds. Team Mexico was the fastest four-man relay group, swimming the distance in seven hours, 40minutes and 42 seconds.
“You couldn’t pay me enough to do this,” said Cealan Clifford, 21, from Florida, who was watching the event. “It’s actually really dangerous. … There’s even huge pieces of wood that you can swim into.”

Swimmers from around the world come to New York every year to take part in the contest.

Hopefully, I will be less speechlessly stupid in days to come.