The International Museum of Photography used to be on 6th, near my hotel, but it’s moved down to the Bowery — about a 45 minute walk in the opposite direction from Wednesday’s excursion. The weather gods changed their mind from rain all day to sunny, 80 degrees and muggy. We have hardly any humidity in Seattle, so I forget just how moist New York air can be. I was dressed for the heat, but so sweaty when I arrived at the air conditioned venue that I could barely tug my soggy underwear up after using the rest room. Pardon the indelicacy, but it’s the most vivid way I can think of to convey the cloying heat.
On the way, I passed a laundry that charges by the pound. Daughter Sara lived on the upper West Side at one point, and her fifth floor walkup apartment had no laundry facilities. A place like this, on the “garden” floor of her building — think the basement — was how she got her dirty clothes washed, and she said it worked just fine.