New York, Vermont & Maine 2014

“When Bruce answered my knock at his door, he said “You’re looking very well.” Aptly, I was reminded of the book with that title about aging by Lewis Wolpert, an octogenarian scientist. I visited Bruce in Manchester, Vermont and David in Bar Harbor, Maine, both apartment-mates in New York in 1970, then at the early stages of our professional careers and now in our mid-seventies. My road trip was book-ended with a two-week visit to New York City at the beginning and 5 days at the end.”

A House in Manchester

Bruce’s house was enclosed in three acres of landscaped gardens with a stream running through and trees showing a range of Fall colors. Manchester was settled in the 1760s and now has about 5,000 residents. It is surrounded by low mountain ranges with Equinox as the highest summit and also the name of the town’s regal hotel. It is a tourist attraction for New England architecture, arts and crafts and unobtrusive signage for fast food and factory outlets. Driving in town and walking through its small farmer’s market conveys a feeling of a long-settled community, but I noticed many houses were for sale, implying a turnover of residents

Bruce and I walked in a forest, by a pond with a hill behind, covered with a tapestry of green, yellow and red trees and colors in between, catching up on our lives. I went back early the next day to take photos in the morning light with the mist lifting from the pond. We also walked up to the local Art Center on a hill that had outdoor sculptures in metal and stone, some abstract and others depicting animals or flora and fauna, strewn along the winding road and surrounding the buildings that housed a collection of paintings and classrooms, but were closed.

Pond in Manchester

Lou, Bruce’s wife, is a keen tennis player, which gave me the chance to play on a clay court at the Dorset Field Club established in 1886, about 30 years before the Delhi Gymkhana, but with similar rules and ambiance–a white shirt was de rigueur for tennis. Dorset is an even older and smaller town than Manchester with an illustrious history. Because of Lou’s associations with tennis and Planned Parenthood, I attended parties with them at the home of a tennis buddy and John Irving, a famous author, who was unassuming and chatty. People at these gatherings were more formally dressed than in California and the conversations followed that pattern.

Equinox Hotel

The drive towards Bar Harbor from Manchester was long, some on country roads, and some on highways. The terrain was up and down, but hills rather than mountains, and sparsely populated. Colorful forests were a welcome distraction, occasionally starling me as an abstract painting does. Driving through towns such as Chester, seemed as if I was still in some part of Manchester, had made no progress in my journey.

I reached York in Maine in mid-afternoon. It was a sunny and unusually hot Saturday. On the advice of hotel staff, I drove to Ogunquit, meaning “beautiful place by the sea” in the Abenaki language, a tourist town known for its miles of sheltered white sand beach, about 8 miles north. I found my way to the shore, but it was so crowded, I could not find parking. After circling for half an hour, I drove back to York’s beach area, which was also crowded but, because it was bigger, parking was available. I got a glimpse of New England summers on wide sand beaches with historic buildings on the shore and a string of restaurants advertising lobster by the pound.

The drive to Bar Harbor was mostly on an empty freeway through colorful forests on both sides easing the monotony, but the last 45 miles were on a two lane road through a series of small towns into downtown Bar Harbor. David’s house was by the shore, only a few hundred yards from the tourist strip, but felt secluded with just the vast ocean and a small island in front. In contrast to Bruce at 5’5”, David is 6”3” with a mariner’s beard and unkempt hair. Instead of handshake, I was greeted with a bear hug. I’ve known David since 1960 when he was at the London School of Economics for his junior year abroad and then I lodged with his family when I first visited the US in 1962.

Bar Harbor at Sunset

Soon after I arrived, I accompanied David to his friend’s house by the water in South Harbor for a private performance of Schubert Sonatas by an accomplished trio. Listening to music in a living room on a sunny afternoon was soothing after a long drive, calming me to appreciate my surroundings. Later, David told me that the host mistook me for Mahatma Gandhi’s great-grandson, who was scheduled to give a talk in the area.

Bar Harbor is a well-known tourist destination. In the few days of my visit, several huge cruise ships parked in the harbor and passengers came into town on fast boats. Main Street and its adjoining few blocks were classically tourist, full of restaurants, bars and shops selling kitsch, but my walk-through the area and an evening drink at a bar a little beyond the strip gave me a glimpse of local life. My tourist activities went further though, to a sunset sail on a four-mast ship serenaded by a guitarist/singer; walks along the shore; a lunch in the cafeteria of the College of the Atlantic situated on a bluff above the harbor; and, most importantly, several visits to Acadia National Park.

Bar Harbor View

The park is huge at about 49,000 acres and among the most visited for good reason. Ages ago, glaciers carving through mountains, creating valleys and lakes and ponds, formed it. When they retreated, the sea level rose to flood the valleys leaving the mountains to rise straight up to look like fjords in some places. The mountains are covered with a mix of coniferous and deciduous forests that had partially turned autumn colors. I drove the 27-mile scenic Park Loop Road stopping at Sand Beach, Jordan Pond and Cadillac Mountain. Later in the day, I walked with Marilyn (David’s wife) along Eagle Lake and Bubble Pond, enjoyed a lengthy catch-up chat. On the next day, I went back with David again to Cadillac Mountain hoping for a clear view, but the mist was even denser. In compensation, we stopped at the Jordan Pond restaurant and had popovers with tea that it is famous for.

Bar Harbor View

On my way back to New York, I stopped in Camden for lunch.  It is known as the “Jewel of the Coast” with sailboats in the harbor and an array of annual festivals and The Camden Conference on foreign policy.  I drove on to Portland where I spent the night.  It qualifies as a city with over 200,000 people in the area, the largest urban settlement in Maine. It had a bustling downtown and docks with tourist attractions and good eateries.

Maine is known for its seafood and most famous for lobster. It is generally served simply, freshly boiled with butter on the side and fries. I had that a few times, most notably at Stewman’s where the Obamas dined. I eyed a Lobster roll on menus several times thinking it was a sushi roll, but desisted because I was told that it too is served simply, with mayo on a hot-dog roll. In Portland, my last stop in Maine, I decided to go all out. I found Eventide, rated on an online site as a good modern restaurant. It was indeed. I had a medley of six Maine oysters served with flakes of iced Kim Chee and Radish as condiments, new to me and unexpectedly delicious. The Lobster roll had plenty of lobster in a ginger and scallion aioli that was outstanding and unusual chickpea finger fries with a sweetish seasoned raison sauce. It was a delightful meal, the best of my entire trip.

Last, but definitely not least, was my almost three week stay in New York City. I had visited last year for a few days accompanying my daughter to wander around a few law school campuses and noted that New York had blossomed to become safer and more civic while still offering world-class cultural amenities and retaining its intensity and multiculturalism. For a while, it had fallen second to London in my ranking of favorite cities, but its back on top again.

New York City Skyline

I met friends from my two earlier stays in New York, the most recent ending in 1984. We talked at meals, before and after plays and during walks. We caught up with each other’s lives, mostly just carrying on, but some with dramatic changes. It’s comforting and edifying to be in the company of people whom I know for a long time. We’ve aged of course, and had many different experiences, but has our essential nature changed much? It’s a difficult question to answer, but having been an economist, I have to say “on the one hand, yes, but on the other, no”.

I was lucky to get tickets for six plays, three on Broadway and three off. Two of the Broadway shows were well-known musicals (The Book of Morman and Jersey Boys) that were a lot of fun; the third, “Love Letters” was an emotionally modulated reading of letters between a man and a woman from childhood to old age and death played by Brian Dennehy and Mia Farrow. “My Manana Comes” was off Broadway and showed how economic stress destroys camaraderie and forces friends to become adversaries based on obvious divisive characteristics such as nationality or race. “The Valley of Astonishment”, directed by the nonagenarian Peter Brook, was sparsely staged as usual and showed how normal people push those with special capabilities, such as exceptional memory, to become circus-like performers and how this sets them apart and causes emotional suffering. Finally, the Shakespeare Globe Company presented “Lear”, one of my favorite plays, especially as I approach old age.

The apartment I rented was a short walk from the 92nd Street Y, which I joined to take yoga classes and work out regularly in the gym. Central Park was a 5 minute walk and seemed closed to traffic at all times. The reservoir was my morning walking path, mostly in sunny weather, looking at New York’s skyline and busier people exercising intensely.

The Metropolitan Museum was 2 minutes further. I became a member and visited for an hour or more almost every day. I covered most of the galleries and a show of Garry Winogrand’s photography and a special exhibit “Assyria to Iberia”, with stunning objects, was enjoyable and instructive. I went up to the roof garden on sunny afternoons to take in the scenery and dined in the museum’s plush members’ dining room once. At the Museum of Modern Art, I saw a special exhibit of Lautrec’s work and walked through the Fifth Floor galleries where the works of Impressionists and Cubists are shown. I sat and drank some wine in the sculpture garden looking at the works of Moore, Picasso and Rodin. I also visited the Neue Gallerie that specializes in German and Austrian art and was showing paintings by Klimpt.

Central Park

New York is rich in restaurants of every kind and everywhere. All neighborhoods have a panoply of easily accessible international cuisine. Changes are afoot though. More restaurants offer healthy alternatives and many state the calorie count of dishes on their menus. New types of fast food offering fresh organic salads and soups have sprung up, but those with artery blocking dishes such as pastrami sandwiches remain. New types of modern bars that specialize in craft beers and special cocktails with small plates seem to be in fashion.

I noticed older people negotiating New York’s busy streets, shops and restaurants. Expectedly, many were enjoying the same activities as I was. New York provides the opportunity to follow all interests at a world-class level and get around easily on buses and in subways. It’s tempting to think of moving there, but I also enjoy the perfect climate, open spaces, fresh food and good wine where I live in Northern California. I wonder if a bicoastal living arrangement is possible? Wolpert quotes surveys that conclude the happiest years for people are their late seventies. The best is yet to come.