skirt story

An unexpected sequel to my bra story of a few months ago:

A few days ago while walking back home from a coffee shop where I’d been hiding for the evening, I passed by the library and noticed a garment neatly deposited on the hand rail for the handicap ramp. Further inspection revealed it to be a skirt; further further inspection revealed another skirt beneath, and a blouse beneath that. I checked yesterday afternoon, and it was still there; and I checked about half an hour ago, and it continues to still be there.

I know there is a story here; possibly there are several stories. Is there some poor soul now wandering the streets of New Paltz in nothing but her sous-vêtements? What led her to disrobe in such a place at such a time? Is this in any way connected to the bra I saw at various locations a few months ago? Also, what is my role in this unfolding drama? Am I destined to be nothing more than an observant chronicler of my own confusion, or will I some day uncover the truth?


bra story

Walking down Church Street a few weeks ago, I was surprised to see a bra hanging in a tree outside an apartment building. It stayed there for a few days and gave me a smile every time I walked past it. When it disappeared, I thought I’d seen the last of it… but then last week, I saw it (or its twin) outside another house about a quarter mile away. I can’t for the life of me figure out what the story behind this bra is. I’m wondering where I’m going to see it next.


Every spring, New Paltz hosts a peculiar regatta on the Wallkill River. First there’s the kayak race (usually, the only competitors here are injection molded boats, though the one time I competed, I raced the skin-and-frame kayak I’d built myself – came in second, which also happened to be last). The kayak race is followed by the canoe race, which in turn is followed by the main event: the home made boat race. Anyone with a creative idea and some drive to bring it to fruition can compete. This year, we had Vikings versus Shop Rite versus pirates versus Tiki bar versus Doctor Seuss versus ninjas versus a big rubber ducky versus the New Paltz Greens versus… I’m sure there are others I’m forgetting. So many classic battles – ninjas versus pirates. Vikings versus Greens. Shop Rite versus… everyone. As usual, the ninjas came in first by a mile. Almost as predictably, Shop Rite came in dead last, after many difficulties getting to the starting line and some apparent confusion regarding which way to paddle.

New Paltz moment

At the counter of the Muddy Cup this afternoon, patiently waiting for my chamomile. Struck by a sudden odour, I look behind me. Dreadlock guy. In chain mail. With a dog. Dog is not wearing chain mail. I sit down with my tea; he asks for a big cup of water. Margaret must be in a good mood, she gives it to him without any guff. I figure it’s for his dog. Minute or two later, I’m gazing out the window. He’s outside, looking at his reflection in the glass, moving a piece of plastic rhythmically over his face. I look closer. It’s a disposable razor. He got the water so he could shave himself.

Still not sure what to make of this.