A couple of weeks ago, we hit Summer Streets, where Park Avenue is closed to car traffic from 72nd Street down to the Brooklyn Bridge. We walked with Cool Friend Kristin. Here are three scenes from Summer Streets.
This is from the free daily newspaper AM New York last week. This is totally me:
I don’t mean to be a baby-carting bully, but when people are standing in the middle of the sidewalk, they need some encouragement to do what normal, decent, law-biding citizens should do: get the heck out of the way.
If there were cars stopped in the middle of the highway for no good reason, what would you do? Lay on the horn. Well, the Cool Stroller doesn’t have a horn, but it has a fat front wheel that rides perfectly on the backs of peoples’ ankles (not that I’ve ever done that, though I’m curious how a busted-up Birkenstock got in our spokes).
And what if you were driving an ambulance coming upon said pointless roadblock? Well, you’d do much more than honk your horn. You’d push through the traffic if that meant saving the life of your patient. And if you’re thinking, “Well, CD, you’re not exactly in a life-and-death emergency here,” then you probably haven’t had a toddler screaming, “I NEED TO GO POO-POO” in your expensive, new double jogging stroller.
So, if you’re on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and stop in the middle of the sidewalk to ask yourself whether you just passed a Real Housewife of New York, and you happen to notice a speeding red blur behind you, roll. Cool Baby’s poo-poos wait for no one.
The Lord works in mysterious ways, and we are Exhibit A. We have so many things going against us being cool.
- Both in our thirties. Cool Mum is 30, and I’m the oldest that Jesus ever got, 33.
- Have a toddler and are expecting our second bouncing, pooping baby boy in the near future.
- My latest attempt at redefining myself with a cool hairstyle ended like my attempt to pass the ’skipping’ portion of the kindergarten curriculum: a miserable failure. (I was told that I was ‘galloping’. Well, sorry that I really looked up to horses when I was younger. Mr. Ed had a profound impact on my life.)
- We feel that the purchase of new underwear is cause for celebration.
But despite the mountain of evidence against us, we feel the coolest yet. Much like the redemptive qualities of The Island on LOST, Manhattan is redeeming our past offences against coolhood. In a city known for rude neighbors and service with a scowl, we are reaching new levels of coolness (as least in our minds).
Since moving to the Cool Duplex, we’ve been able to connect with people more than we ever have. Each week, our place hosts a rhythm of family dinners, playgroups, bible studies, spontaneous meals with friends, and LOST-watching parties, all with a refreshing variety of New Yorkers: established residents, newbies, singles, marrieds, all hailing from various parts of America and the world.
Many churches preach about community and many of us desire it. We feel blessed and pretty cool to be living in the middle of it. Thank you, Lord.
And even if we’re not any cooler than before, or even less so, there’s no denying that this is so cool, it’s ridiculous:
Sunglasses, plus cap from another country worn sideways, equals a strollerful of cool
Last Monday, we posted a video musical tour of our latest apartment, the Cool Duplex. Unlike our guided tour of the Cool Studio, this one had plenty of vocals, but no words. We’re sure that the video left plenty of you at a loss for words as well. We’ll explain ourselves as well as some things about the Cool Duplex that you should know.
THE SONG
As much as I would like to claim so, I did not compose nor sing the incredible the epic overture that the tour is set to. It is actually a song called “I Am Glad I’m Finally Going Home” that was performed on a 1970s Russian variety show. The song has become a viral video among mostly the internet geek community; you probably won’t see the morning shows talking about it like Losiah Whittaker’s meltdown. If you want the details, I refer you to our friend Wikipedia.
THE APARTMENT
As entertaining and disturbing as my tour was, you didn’t learn much about the apartment. Lemme break it down for ya.
The place is a duplex, meaning it has two floors. Our roommates share the large bottom floor, dividing their spaces with curtains. To commemorate Good Friday, I tore their curtains in half when they weren’t home. Just kidding.
Here, I ascend the spiral staircase from the bottom floor. We have a baby gate for the entrance; it’s just open so I don’t fumble with it while filming. CB is also too big to fit between those bars, but we will install some guards for any littler ones coming over.
I’m walking in from where the front door is. The coat closet is actually our closet where our hanging clothes are as well as CB’s strollers. The bathroom door has an organizer hanging on the inside of the door. That’s how four adults’ personal hygiene items are stored in one small bathroom. The organizer is held up by some hooks that hang over the door, which prevents the bathroom door from closing all the way. We haven’t had an embarrassing barge-in yet, though I’d bet I’ll be the first victim since Cool Baby has a habit of running through the door when I’m in there. continued…
It’s almost been a year since the last tour of a Cool Fam apartment, the infamous one-room, 200 square-foot Cool Studio. After that, we spent six months in the 5th floor, no elevator Cool One-Bedroom. We wanted to give you a tour and show the glee I experienced hauling our stroller up and down four flights of stairs, but it never happened.
To make up for that, here is a tour of our new place that we share with two roommates, the Cool Duplex, put to our favorite new song.
There’s a reason behind this other than us completely losing it. If you don’t get it, here’s the joke.
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