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If we don’t hit any lights…

November 11, 2008 am30 6:40 am

After a night of drinking at Art Heyman’s place off Union Square, my friend (haven’t seen in forever) Jim Kavanagh gives me a lift to the Bronx. We turn onto First Avenue and roll. We start with a good run, but have to slow down in the thirties to avoid getting to a red before it turns green. I tell Jim that in theory, since the First Avenue lights are well-synched, it’s possible to… We’re paying attention now. Whizz under the UN. Jim hitches himself to the back of a gypsy cab, and we push. We’re looking eight, ten blocks ahead. We make it past the %^&*^&% double parking in the 80s. Uptown, we notice cabs tailing us now. It’s a dance; there’s a rhythm. We haven’t stopped once, and we roll onto the Willis Avenue Bridge.

The little span was near-perfect. Turn right at the end, we’re taking the local street (133?) towards the Bruckner. One green, two greens, just one last and then we veer…. but no. Caught by the last light. 19th Street to the Bronx, all green.

(Art Heyman was at the bar that night, named for his daughter, Tracy, greeting customers from his table in the front, occasionally venturing to tour the joint on his beat up knees. The trip from Tracy J’s Watering Hole to the corner of Bruckner Blvd and St Ann’s was real. The post was inspired by Mildly Melancholy Julie and her well-timed lights…)

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