I grew up on the upper east side. Our apartment overlooked two huge con ed smokestacks and if you leaned close to the window you could see the east river.
One time there was an awful smell. It was putrid. Just awful. I remember sitting in the big picture window of our living room with my mom and she explained to me that the smell was from a barge that had slaughterhouse waste going up the river. At the time I thought it sounded believable. It sure smelled like a possibility. As an adult, though, I am wondering about the probability of a slaughterhouse boat going up and down the east river. Where was it going? Where was it coming from? I can't recall the direction the boat was going. Was it coming from Staten Island? That would be a straight out garbage barge. And where would that barge be going? The bronx? Long island sound? It's been half a century and that is something I still wonder about. It might be on the list of top ten things I ask when I get to heaven.
The other time I recall staring out the window was because there was a crazy sound. I found my mom standing by the picture window again. It was a continuous sound and it was some kind of steam or smoke coming from (high power blasting from) those con ed smokestacks. I wonder what was coming out of those stacks. I wonder if it had anything to do with making my mom sick with cancer, even though I am 99% sure that illness was asbestos tainted baby powder from a certain huge corporation. I probably don't want to know what was in the smoke. Just breathing is enough to get us in the end.
Once when I was in high school I got caught in the rain coming home. I decided to relax and enjoy it because I was soaking wet anyways. I danced and puddle jumped my way back to the apartment. I got home, slipped into some dry clothes and went to snuggle up in front of the TV. I hopped onto the couch. Then I realized that I smelled foul. That rain smelled like a chemical bath. It was so vile I had to get up and shower it off.
From the kitchen window I could see the older sister of someone I knew having sex while standing in front of her bedroom window. I just happened to glance out while eating one day and the sister and boyfriend were definitely putting on a show for the neighbors. That was extra weird because sometimes the elevator would stop on the way down and the exhibitionist sister would get on the elevator with her mom. The guy who wasn't putting a show on for the neighbors was the one who would "touch" himself while lying on top of the blankets on his bed. From our apartment we looked down into his bedroom, maybe by 3 floors, and I am pretty sure he thought his bed wasn't in anyone's view.
Here is a nice thing we could see from our apartment. On the roof of one of the 5 story buildings behind (our view was to the back) my sky scraper apartment building were pigeon coops and if I got lucky I could see the guy who cared for the pigeons letting them out and directing the huge flocks to fly around in circles with his flags. I wish I had a photo of that. That was pretty freaking magical.
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