BY: Fawn Foerster

My youngest daughter (14) and I drove from Maryland to NY to Long Island and back (638.7 miles). On Friday, called called the International Museum of Photography for recommended best parking garage. The staff woman said to park on 43rd and Broadway. Breezed by Delaware, cruised up Jersey Turnpike.

Dark, ominous clouds hover over Gotham as we approached the NYC exits. Lightning strikes were coming about one every few minutes. The van rocked back and forth in the gusts, the antenna vibrated in a high whine, pelting rain smeared itself across my windshield and various pieces of trash like snow were sailing across the roadway. A very rare earthquake of 5.1 had rumbled up the Eastern Seaboard by Saturday morning. http:www.nytimes.com/2002/04/21/nyregion/21QUAK.html. The 2.5 mile approach to the Lincoln Tunnel took one hour and twenty minutes to navigate. I felt like Frodo and Sam creeping towards Mt. Doom "Mustn't ever give up". The natural forces were resonating to the conjunction of two mighty stars! Yikes!

Daughter was miserable and declared that we should go straight out to Long Island since we were going to miss the signing. I declared that her mother was of the optimistic sort and never gave up in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. SUVs, white stretch limos, transit buses, utility vans in various states of disrepair and cars jockeyed at the nine toll gates. This tangle of traffic squozed itself into two tunnel lanes. Rolled down driver's window and used arm signals to get my van positioned in correct lanes as I drove through city traffic (taxi tactic--works everytime).

With sixteen minutes to spare, pulled up to International Museum of Photography, told my daughter to jump out and to get a place on line. There were double-parked cars and fancy-dressed people milling about the curb. This was a happening thing!

After parking van in garage, made cell call to ICP Store to frantically and pitifully ask Wendy if she could make sure that my daughter who was an unmistakeable 6' 1" in SpongeBob t-shirt and low-rise, laced up, bell-bottom jeans to "Please, help her with purchasing a Sign Language book." Wendy said she'd take care of my daughter. New Yorkers are nice if you ask them direct, no-nonsense questions and beg a little.  I jogged to ICP with ten minutes to spare. The rain had let up some but still dampened my hair enough to send it into spit curls. I was hot and sweaty. The Ranger look is in :-) My daughter was there with SL book already purchased. Yay Wendy! She commented to someone next to her as I joined my daughter in line, "That's the mother."