The threatening rain never materialized on Saturday, making for a pleasant afternoon at the Bronxville Sidewalk Sale. While attendance was probably lower than the spring version (it usually is) there were a good stream of folks out and about, most keeping one eye to the sky. If you were lucky, you tried something from the grill Lange’s had set up—their hot dogs are amazing. Lots of familiar faces came through, including Susan Secondo, Alexandra Burkhardt, Maria Wein Devaney, Heath and Mallory Podvesker, Harlene Mehr, and Irene Lewis.
Sunday morning brought blue skies for the Concours D’Elegance up in Tuckahoe. Dozens of exotic Italian sports cars lined Depot Square, but the highlight for the kids was balloon artist Scott Kazan, who delighted throngs of preschoolers three deep with his intricate sculptures. Batman on a motorcycle? No problem! An alien with a dog on a leash? Done, and quickly, moving on to the next request.
Frankly, we’d lose our minds trying to accommodate the helium-fueled whims of dozens of 3-year-olds, but Scott was impressive in his ability to keep the kids organized and respectful of each other without being condescending.
Heading back to our not-a-Ferrari after the Concours, our four (and a half!) year old took a nasty spill outside the . Pushing a toddler in a stroller up Tuckahoe’s steep hills with one arm while carrying a bloodied pre-K’er in the other might have put a damper on the day, but…well, no, it did put a damper on the day.
But life is a matter of perspective, and an experience later at the Bronxville Train Station put that little cut on the knee in its proper context. There, a very intoxicated and slightly distraught woman was attempting, quite unsuccessfully, to purchase a ticket from the machine on the New York bound side of the tracks.
Unsteady on her feet, dropping a lit cigarette into her open purse, she was drawing alternating stares of concern and disgust from other Sunday afternoon travellers. We helped her get the ticket, and pointed her to a bench, suggesting she sit to wait for the next train. Our concern, of course, was fresh, knowing that just days earlier someone had fallen onto the tracks.
Perhaps we should have stayed, helped her onto the train. For a moment after leaving, as the guilt began to mount, we thought of calling the police to check on her. But the train had already left the station.
So we hope, very much, that she got to where she was going safely, and that perhaps today, when the hangover’s fog has lifted, that things will be just a bit brighter for her, whoever she was.
And ay your week be bright, too.