After enjoying a brief moment of Zen with Washington Irving’s library card, I walked with Mark back down the curving staircase to the second floor. Here I met with Jonathan and Casey at the top of the marble stairs just outside the Member’s Room (you’re peeking through the door, just as I saw things, in the photo to the right), and chatted with several of the librarians and a number of patrons who had shown up early — including yet another charming member of the Irving family, who proudly showed me a fleur-de-lis ring of Washington Irving’s that she was wearing on her pinky. Meanwhile, staff whizzed in and out, setting the room up for their National Library Week reception (cake and lemonade, appropriately Spring-like fare).
It was a bit warm, and I have to embarassingly admit I’m something of a sweater — it didn’t help that I was wearing a suit (my Senate Uniform, I call it), but changing temperature from a Spring day outside to a temperature-regulated building usually turns my head shiny with perspiration, regardless. Fortunately, Jonathan and Casey went above and beyond and took good care of me — Jonathan pressed a cool glass of lemonade into my hand while Casey handed me a wad of paper napkins and dabbed a bit below my left eye — and like that, I was fine. I must say, having a posse with you is really cool.
A little after 2:00, Mark led me into the now-packed Member’s Room — a really great venue that allows some lucky audience members the luxury of sitting on couches and overstuffed chairs. Casey and Jonathan took seats discretely off to one side, and as I sat in a classy wingback, Mark stood at the central podium and gave me a very nice introduction.
I gave what I call my E! True Hollywood Story talk — it gives me a good opportunity to hit several of the high points of Irving’s life, with enough famous names and events to keep things really interesting (Look! Mary Shelley! And here’s Edgar Allan Poe! And now Martin Van Buren!). And to my delight, just as it had in Newport, the speech went over terrifically. (Want another look? Jonathan very kindly blogged about it himself over on his own website.)
And if you’d like, you can even hear audio of the entire thing right here. The NYSL has only just recently started putting its talks and presentations up on their website, and I’m very proud to be among their first three featured speakers.
As always, I had a wonderful time signing and talking with people afterwards. Interestingly, a number of folks were curious about my time in the U.S. Senate; I’m guessing that life in DC is as enigmatic to New Yorkers as life in New York is to us DC-ites — an iconic place that we can picture in our heads or see in the movies, but can’t imagine what it’s like to actually live or work there. I was having so much fun talking with everyone, in fact, that I completely missed having a piece of the cake they’d brought in for their National Library Week celebration.
It was 4:00 by the time we wrapped everything up, and I had a 5:05 train to catch at Penn Station. Jonathan graciously carried my suitcase (see what additional duties an agent shoulders?) as we headed down 79th Street in search of a cab. We finally managed to snag one on the corner at Fifth Avenue, pointed toward Central Park. I threw my bags in the back seat, then hugged (yes, hugged — I can’t help it, I’m a Westerner) Jonathan and Casey goodbye.
I made it back to Baltimore about two hours later than anticipated, thanks to a medical emergency on the Amtrak train directly in front of mine that had stopped on the tracks and required us to pull up next to it and load all of its passengers onto ours. Topping things off, I was then forced to detour about ten miles out of my way on my drive home when an accident — within spitting distance of my house — closed the road and turned me back around. At that point, I couldn’t get home fast enough.
I won’t leave you hanging. I made it home in one piece. And while New York was an unforgettable experience . . . man, was it nice to be back home. My wife took my things and sat me down at the bistro table in the kitchen and put a warm bowl of pasta fazoli in front of me. “Tell me all about!” she said.
I took a spoonful and smiled. Delicious. “Well,” I said, dabbing my mouth with the corner of a napkin, “I arrived at Penn Station in New York City on Friday afternoon, about an hour later than the 11:57 a.m. my train ticket had promised….”