A weird thing. It turns out the the births of baby boys are on the decline, and pollution is to blame.
Well, if you’re looking to have a baby girl and anxious to up your pollution intake, may I recommend the Staten Island Ferry? Yes, it’s true. The city’s rivers are a lot more clean than they used to be. But they’re still dirty, and the Ferry is still the cheapest way to take a cruise in them. (If you haven’t realized that I have no idea what river I crossed, and I am too lazy to find out, than you give me too much benefit of the doubt).
Anyway. It was a beautiful Memorial Day Sunday. I took my baby boy (the Macbook) to the Apple store to figure out why the screen was blinking and batting all over the place. (How do I know my Macbook is boy? No girl could torture me like this.) Naturally my so-called genius said my computer was “totally fine.” He smiled in that caring, understanding way that I’m beginning to realize is too kind to ever be sincere. (See: boys.) But, at the time, my friend Michelle was with me, the sun was shining and life felt really grand.
We walked to the Hudson and sat on the river, which looked really beautiful. Still I wondered out loud, “What could we do that would be really crazy?” Then it hit me. The Ferry. So we got iced coffee. We took a train. We took a shuttle bus. Then, we took a ferry to Staten Island. A boy riding on the bow of the boat with us insisted that there was great pizza in Staten Island and we should hang out. Well…we got back on the boat. Michelle is known for refusing to come to Brooklyn because it’s “not in New York” and we didn’t want to push it.