All told it was after 9 pm when we finally found Flushing, the location of the Air B & B we had booked for the night. Once again our Girl Google GPS didn't know the city as well as you would have expected; we went up and down streets searching for our destination but we could NOT find it. At almost 11 pm we pulled into the lot of a convenience store and contacted our host. It turned out she was close enough to meet us at the store on foot. The street we couldn't find turned out to be one of those tucked-onto-a-dead-end ones that are so easy to overlook.
Once we got there and met our host's husband, we immediately found two things not to our liking: a strong cigarette smell pervading the duplex, and steep carpeted stairs leading to the room we had reserved. As tired as we were, we dropped off our luggage and took the dogs outside to stretch their legs and do other "dog things." Then we trudged back up the stairs and determined who would sleep where. Rhonda insisted on sleeping on the chaise longue, even though I argued that the bed would be better on her back. That's when I learned I would never win an argument with Rhonda either.
I don't think I've ever won an argument with anyone. I have about as much power in an argument---even an intellectual one---as a Pomeranian: all yapping and growling, a little nipping--and then getting thrown across the room by the better fighter.
Anyway, we settled into our one-night digs and soon were sawing logs. The room was furnished in good solid and heavy Asian furniture, but to tell you the truth all I wanted to see was sheets.
In the morning it was a quick solo promenade with the canine babies; while I did, I was looking around. The neighborhood of Flushing where we were appeared to be an Asian community. Korean was the language of the signage. although I saw a few Japanese people and a few Indian and Southeast Asian folks out enjoying the morning air with me. (Yes, I can tell the difference between the peoples and their languages in written form. So can you if you just take the time to notice the details.) Our differences are things to be enjoyed, not suspicious of. Why don't we celebrate not only our own individuality, but our human diversity as well? I dunno. I think it's a shame; we are gifts to each other from the Creator.
When I returned, our hosts were up and ready to get acquainted. The man's name was John, and he had been in the military in South Korea. He met his wife Ryuhhee there and eventually they came back home to NYC and settled in Flushing. They had a daughter, a lovely girl who startled me on the way out of the bathroom first thing in the morning. She quickly turned around and went back into her room and closed the door, obviously just as startled as I was.
They wanted to show me the treasures they had acquired during their lives together. I knew enough about Asian cultures to know that Ryuhhee wanted to honor me, so I gladly followed them around the townhouse. By the way, she graciously allowed me to photograph some of their things to share with you.
The cover picture is of the view along the front window in their living room. That is an actual RCA Victrola sitting atop an exquisitely beautiful secretary. The desk was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, one of my favorite jewels. There's a better picture of it coming later in this article.
That is Ryuhhee's beautiful Baroque-style baby grand piano. It was the first thing that I saw once we arrived the night before. Now in the morning, she is telling me that she was a music teacher too. She too taught elementary music in the public schools of NYC----but she also taught at Montessori schools. I was duly impressed.
This is Ryuhhee. Isn't she lovely?
Now that I knew she is a colleague as well as my host, we started talking music education "shop". We probably bored Rhonda to tears, but she hid it well. Speaking of hiding well, that's her arm with the death-grip on the coffee cup in front of Ryuhhee. Anyway, on to the other treasures.
This is the view of their living room to the left of the window with the Victrola. You can see the RCA Victor dog that originally sat just to the right of the Victrola---but space in this townhouse is at a premium and just didn't allow the dog to hear "the sound of his master's voice"*.
Notice the bust of Beethoven above the pump organ. Notice the scaled-down copy of Michelangelo's "David" next to it (strategically lit to help me keep this post rated "G"). Notice the lyre brass music stand. I think my teaching partner in Nashville, Tammy Tarter, had one just like it.
Notice the paintings of 19th Century ladies, circa 1840. The one on the left, over the woodstove appears to be a Gainsborough, maybe? That's John's right arm on the right side of the picture, holding the couch down. I caught his left arm in the picture of the baby grand piano. You might have noticed that. He really didn't want to be in any of the pictures.
And speaking of John....
Some things you just don't ask people about. Coming back in with the dogs after their "morning constitutional", I spied this auspicious bullwhip coiled around the post of the sofa. I don't know why it's there. I don't know if it's for beating the tv when it's showing something John doesn't like (Elvis Presley used to shot his TVs, you may recall...), or if he and Ryuhhee have fun playing Cowboy and Indians. . . and I don't wanna go there. I am reasonably sure the bullwhip is John's. I just knew I better not piss him off, and if I said anything, I better be funny.
Still their living room, but this is the area by the stairs. Notice the African drum under the desk? It's called a djembe. Now note the terrarium. I vaguely noticed there was some sort of reptile inside it while climbing the stairs. But I have never mustered any enthusiasm for anything cold-blooded.
Okay, maybe turtles. I saved an awful lot of stranded turtles on the BIA dirt roads of the Choctaw reservation in Mississippi while I lived there. Rather---the children in my church van did the rescuing. We would all shout a 10-countdown while the turtle-savior had to get the turtle out of the road (still facing the same direction he was headed), jump back in the van and slam the door before we got to "one". It was a lot of fun. And we saved the environment. And stopped global warming. At least for that turtle we saved. But I digress...
No, I really didn't notice what reptile species was incarcerated in the terrarium. I wasn't interested in a Night of the Iguana. . .or any other kind of lizard. . . or worse; (shudder) a snake. I just wanted to hit the rack.
As promised, here is the closeup view of the secretary all tricked-out with Mother-of-Pearl. Notice the small carousel horse? This is the second night in a row I've stayed in someone's home who had one of these.
In the sunroom, more treasures. Love the heart-shaped table. And I too have an autoharp.
Still in the sunroom, notice the 1/4 size child's violin. And click on the picture to check out the carving on the back of the chair. Notice the child's guitar in the rear of the picture. Also, that is one of the first electronic keyboards for music educators in the center rear of the picture.
I think it's safe to say that we were guests when we arrived, but we were friends when we left. John and Ryuhhee came outside to wave goodbye to us as we left for our day cruising the streets of New York City. That is the topic of my next post.
*RCA Victor's original trademark was a picture of a white dog with a red collar sitting next to a Victrola. The caption said "hearing the sound of his master's voice", circa 1920s. I know this because my father used to work for RCA Victor.