Sometimes the beauty of the familiar can only be revealed through the eyes of the unfamiliar.
We slept in to account for Tyler and Kevin’s jet lag, and Andy and I’s old age. Turns out I slept the latest of us all. Brunch was thankfully not until 12:30, at which point polka-dots of downpours were popping up on the radar. We sidled into Innovo right before the dark sky opened up. I can’t think of a lovelier place in which to pass a quick spring storm than having brunch and a bunch of bottomless mimosas.
We took our time as one downpour subsided and another one began. Then, a spattering of sunlight. The plan was to hit the New York State Museum – a place I’d visited as a kid but haven’t seen in three decades. They informed me that it was the largest state museum in the country – proof that it once again takes a non-native to reveal native truths. (I mentioned that I thought it would be Nevada, given how sprawling Las Vegas was – proof that some things should not be spoken aloud.)
Despite a closed carousel (it was Sunday afternoon) we got a glimpse of the Empire State Plaza. The haunts that I occasionally occupy as part of my job took on a magical quality I couldn’t appreciate when rushing by them on a workday. The sun poked out for the time we were outside – blue sky and puffy clouds reflected in the waters of the plaza.
From there we made a cocktail stop at Oh Bar, showing Tyler and Kevin where Andy and I first met almost nineteen years ago. An old couple and a new couple sat in the window as the rain started again, just like it had on July 23, 2000. Love was suddenly all around in Albany.
