Attack of a younger generation

I have heard my share of horror stories about the masses of shoppers attacking stores in the days after thanksgiving. Like many people I dare not leave the safety of home during these days of consumerism, cocooning with ease into the heavy warmth of extra blanket layers while I watch the crazies gathering outside my window. My dog struggles to gain the best window viewing perch and growls at the people below. And while she occasionally growls on a normal day I choose to believe that there is real meaning behind her menacing looks on Black Friday, she can sense things I can't even begin to understand and this is her best way to tell us to bolt the doors and huddle around the tv.

She did fail to mention the army of strollers and backpacked children that filled our streets on Wednesday. So when we left the apartment that night for an early dinner at one of the neighborhood haunts (Viand Cafe/Diner) I was entirely unprepared for the crowds. Children were grasping balloons and light sabers in one hand while their parents led them through the maze of the Upper West Side. The normally relaxed Wednesday night dinner crowd was extending out the door of our diner and we headed down the street to the quicker Chipotle to grab some to go and head home to safety.

My wife had experience with this crowd last year. As we were still getting used to this neighborhood and making good use of vacation time to explore the streets ourselves, she got trapped amidst this same army heading towards the Natural History Museum, just one short block away from our humble home and "secret" location where the Macy's Parade balloons are blown up. Unknown the her every child in the city is beamed into the blocks surrounding the museum to watch the Nickolodean characters appear in front of the museum. Late at night I snuck over to the 77th and Columbus and from my position behind police barriers snapped quick photos of the balloons waiting outside.

So while we knew what events and blocks to avoid each of us was unprepared for the exodus of strollers from the museum into the restaurants near us. Once home this year we threw open the windows and enjoyed our view from five stories up. The city unfolding beneath us was one of anticipation and joy. It was hard to believe the rumors of poor economic days with the hustle of activity below us.

As midnight approached we hung by the windows anticipating the floats to come down Amsterdam to take their place around the museum as well. It was like our windows were given a sneak peak of the morning's fun and we enjoyed it as much this year as we had when accidently getting caught in the parade last year.

The actual event of Thanksgiving went smoothly. Moist turkey breasts sat next to baked sweet potatoes and homemade maple pecan butter tucked next to sweet italian sausage stuffing. In about an hour we prepared a meal fit for kings and then downed some red wine while sneaking bits of cooking supplies to the dog. Now I get a year of food recovery to anticipate next year's feast. Bring it on.