I made a special trip today to see The Gates in Central Park. Many people find The Gates suspect, they scream out “waste!” “pretension!” “orange!” but I just took it for what it was and found myself thoroughly seduced. I liked these gates. Here I am appreciating the gates. My facial expression seems to say: “Hmm, I mean, they’re big and orange and billowy, but I can still like them, right?”
And here’s a big gate in case you want to see one up close:
What I liked about the Gates most was the sense of being swallowed up in some surreal happening. There were Gates tourbuses, Gates tourguides, Gates t-shirts. There were tourists and locals, picture-takers and wanderers. In my biggest flight of fancy, I imagined we were in some enchanted kingdom that really liked the color orange. I left The Gates and went to the Time Warner Center so I could buy olive oil at Williams Sonoma. (See this is food related.) I attempted to pay the cashier in orange fabric. She smacked me. And my flight of fancy was over.