A glaring Mary

Yesterday was a very pleasurable day, which became about pottering around in New York. We discovered The Highline; a parkland walk on an old railway line raised above the streets of the West Village. It was a brilliant place to sit and watch the world go by; a haven of calm, hovering above the frantic city streets.


We met Sharon in the East Village; a very dear friend who was at drama school with me. She’s one of the most effervescent people I know and always makes me feel that life’s just that little bit more worth living. She’s getting married in October and her excitement is infectious. We saw pictures of the dress and the reception venue, whilst sitting in a little hummus bar opposite the bass player from Travis!

Later on, I hooked up with my arty painter friend, Lee, before drifting up to Mid-town to meet the New York gang; Frank, Kevin, Adam and an assortment of Broadway performers, one of whom, Jimmy, had played baseball in the Olympics, which I thought, for a Broadway Gypsy was quite the claim to fame! I’m ashamed to say I know nothing about game. It’s always struck me as a rather tedious pastime. I’m more of a Rounders man, which became all too obvious when Jimmy revealed he’d played in a position called “short stop”, information I later embarrassingly regurgitated as “he played short-bus in the US Olympic Baseball team ”. A short bus over here is something the spastics ride to school in. Oh how we laughed...

It’s the 5th of March, which means it’s Matt’s birthday. After the hell he’s been through recently, he doesn’t really want to celebrate or even acknowledge the day, but we’ve bought him a few little gifts and we’re going to try and mark the day somehow, if not just with a raised glass to a better future.

Pepys’ March 5th, 1660, began with Mr Hill, the instrument maker, coming to string his theorbo; yet another instrument in Pepys’ ever-growing collection. A theorbo is a type of multi-stringed lute, see wiki here. Pepys loved anything to do with music making, and described his morning’s experience as greatly pleasurable. At lunchtime, he went by water taxi to Billingsgate, met up with friends at the wonderfully named, Salutation Tavern, ate enormous plates of meat and drank copious amounts of alcohol. One of his friends, Mr Adams, drank til he “began to be overcome”, which brings to mind a rather tragic scene, one which I'd love to have witnessed.

Pepys then returned to Westminster where he met Mr Pinkney, who proudly revealed a Charles I crest of the Lion and Unicorn emblazoned on a screen at the back of his chimney. I’m sure on many occasions during the interregnum he’d have felt the need to cover it up, but he claimed he’d cleaned it loyally every day. Symbolism like this, in periods of political and religious uncertainty, becomes incredibly important; a way of subtly expressing a view without attracting the disapproval of the world. Pepys’ early diary, for example, is littered with references to Catholic sympathising. On his visit to Audley End just a few days previously, for example, he finished a pint of ale and discovered the Virgin Mary glaring up at him from the bottom of his glass.