I want nothing more than to be allowed to breathe in a space. Does anyone go to site-specific museums to see historical recreations or be distracted by a guided tour? (Perhaps the two attentive British families shoehorned into this council flat with me.) She meant well, but the appeal was just over her shoulder — not the true stories of the Levines and Rothschilds, simulacra of which I have seen often — but the squalor they left behind. Archaeology. Fingerprints. I needed more time to really exist there, to suss out signs of life.
Then, back into the slush and around the corner for a Babycakes cupcake, and over to Lafayette for an Excellent Dumpling House wonton soup. (They brought me the wrong one, but I guess that’s what makes it an adventure.)
And one other thing: in the museum’s gift shop I saw a book entitled New York City Museum of Complaint, consisting of letters written to the Mayor of New York between 1751 and 1969. Reproduced below is the text of my favorite one:
Sir:
I should like to express to you my admiration and appreciation of the new Zoo in Central Park. However, there are two commodities lacking in the cafeteria which I feel should be included, to wit: lady fingers for the children to eat with their ice cream, and pretzels for the grown ups to munch with their beer. My six year old son dutifully consumes peanut butter crackers, but always hopefully asks for lady fingers, and I am sure most of the children who frequent the park would appreciate their inclusion.
Two commodities, pretzels and lady fingers, Your Honor, that will make a 98% proposition a glorious one hundred per-center!
Sincerely,
A---- T----
15th May 1935