Outside the limits

I'm in Tuckahoe, just a 40 minute train ride north from the city, in Westchester, sitting on the steps of the Masonic Temple. You can see the glow of the city even as far out here. It's pink in the night sky. To the east and west, dark, but toward the city all lavendar. It's crazy to think how much energy a 14-mile island can produce, create. Human energy, natural energy. Heat, combustion, chaos. What if you could bottle New York City? To collapse the energy of one day and from different parts of the city. Showing different types of energy.

But those in Tuckahoe are removed from the chaos. Kids are skipping down the street, the last days of summer. People outside, hoping the days of late sunsets and crickets will last just a bit longer. That days without school will last forever. A man just walked out of Bubblemania, the laundromat, with his laundry and got into a Mercedes. I guess he had enough cash for the car, so he had to forego the washer & drier. Guess if you have a car here you don't have to mingle with the riffraff. But anyway, it's just kids. In the suburbs.

So here I am kicking it with the Masons. I wonder what it's like to be in a secret society. Looking at your brothers, or sisters all of whom keep your secrets. And you theirs. And all the cool things you plan within that community. Cookouts and fun. I'd love to create my own secret society. I wonder what I'd call it. Guess ir should be related to work or have some grounding in a job or occupation. Like the masons. To be a part of something secret and clandestine.