Olive-Colored Scientists on York Ave.

From the extended futon that lay flat over the wooden slats that covered apartment 4J, the first of two alarms began to sound off at 7:30AM. A quick flick of my finger and the only barrier between unending sleep and re-emerging into the world of the conscious, was my trusty blackberry carefully set to ring every five minutes starting at 7:45AM. The “Antelope Tone” set on high sprang from the speaker of my phone and clamped down on my ear drums one leg at a time. I was awake.

Today, July 8, 2008, New York City transformed into a part of the real world. The veil that covered it was removed. The real world set in. Instead of wild discovery and illuminating colors, dust-covered venetian blinds and four-story hikes to enjoy cigarettes, consumed my day. I logged a full day of work in New York City.

Following the conclusion of a traditionally busy day, I once again slipped into my double-knotted Pearl Izumi’s, snagged my Native Eyewear sunglasses and patted my back pocket to inspect the attendance of my wallet.

A quick discussion with my cohort translated into a walk down the tree and apartment-lined, York Ave. Like an oasis in the midst of a desert, a beautiful, well-kempt graduate school sprang up and whisked me in through the front gate.

Ducks paraded around a suspiciously clean pond, trees as green as emeralds showed off for their guests and newly bloomed flowers waved to the tune of the honeybee’s wings . A cool, gentle breeze began to sweep through the campus breaking the humidity that had imprisoned the city for so long.

“Where I am,” were the only words I could muster.

I was informed that we were entering the lush threshold of Rockefeller University. This arrangement of brick and mortar was a true sanctuary in the city.

The university, which specializes in quite advanced science, offers shelter to some of the most fascinatingly interesting people my eyes have ever seen. We took rest at the Philosopher’s Garden where clean tables and chairs adorned a white marble floor in the open air. One scientist seized the day, sparking a grill for a BBQ…his Einstein t-shirt smiled along with him. My group drank beer and gin and tonics, while discussing the merits of American and European football…we also conversed about the qualities of olives and nuts.

Each individual was asked to be who they were…and nothing more. In response, the scientists obey. This illustration of acceptance, education and open-mindedness is a model for the rest of the city to follow.

The smells of grilled chicken and burgers, searing in perfect lines, sent my olfactory sense into overdrive. Sustenance was needed.

My cohort and I left the wonderful Rockefeller University border and were abruptly slung back into humidity, car-horns and concrete. The rubber soles of our shoes scratched along the surface of the cooling pavement as we forged onward towards our dining destination.

Soon thereafter we found ourselves in a modest deli, surrounded by fresh olives from all over the world. Two baguettes were removed from a cabinet and fastidiously sliced apart and covered with ham and brie, and prosciutto and mozzarella (respectively) before being forced back together again. The desserts teased my taste buds as the rugala and baklava seductively winked at me.

I was sold.

The afternoon of quality conversation, serene settings and delectable foods parlayed into a quiet and relaxing evening with a movie. Just what the doctor ordered after a busy day of work. Perhaps most interesting though, was that a section of Manhattan seemed to break away from its mainland. A portion of the upper-east side defined itself in all of its “olive-colored glory,” and it was good.