A walk across town, learning to roller skate in Harlem and more reader tales of New York City in this week’s Metropolitan Diary.
I’m about six feet tall and in my early 70s. As long as the wind is not blowing too hard, I’m comfortable going out for a walk in just a light, long-sleeved sport shirt and no coat even when the temperature falls into the low 30s. d11n undercarriage parts
It was on just such a cool day that I set out from the Upper West Side to cross Central Park and spend a couple of hours at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
As I walked east along 72nd Street, a woman who was probably in her 80s and headed in the opposite direction walked up to me briskly and jabbed her right index finger toward my chest.
“Young man,” she said, “you go right home and put on a jacket.”
I called it the rasp: the steep, treeless blocklong scarp of a sidewalk that connected Amsterdam and Convent Avenues in Harlem and was my playground when I was a 6-year-old girl growing up in the 1950s.
It was a time of learning. I learned to roller skate. Before that, I could only watch the big kids do it. Now, I had my own pair, hand-me-downs from my older sister.
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