“So when did you come to New York?”
It was strange to see a man with longer white hair walk on the jogging track around 66th street in Central Park. He was wearing a black suit, he had his glasses on, he was smiling. He looked incredibly familiar. He was somebody I should have recognized immediately, but I did not. It appeared that the joggers who slowed down their pace, so he could talk with them knew exactly who he was. Their body language was subtle but respectful. The man was smiling, asking simple questions… It took me a few minutes. Oh, it was Frank Gehry. I think it was him. And if it was not… then it was a man who reminded me that Central Park is a simple background for people sometimes. Saw Jose Carreras on a bench in the lower part of the park once, and he looked afraid of being recognized. I might have looked wild on this particular day?
Kofi Annan was engaged in a very clear conversation with who I think was his wife…
Oh, and then there were all the other visitors, who happened to have rather interesting lives. But I do not know their names and I never will…
and I do not quite understand why some of the runners in the park push themselves to the point where their body looks very, very tortured…
I tend to mix up things…