Does This Car Go Faster?

I’ll be honest. I struggled to write this post. A review of the first half of 2026.

​Why? It feels like I haven’t accomplished anything in these six months.

It doesn’t help that 2025 would be a hard act to follow.

After the stabilization of 2024 and the chaos of 2023.

Where to begin with the first half of this year?

We begin at the Crossroads of the World. With a glimpse of New York City that people rarely get to see.

I was walking in Times Square on the last Saturday of December. A brief stop after a visit to a year-end party. I was looking to photograph the 2026 numerals before New Year’s Eve. Noticing that a new observation deck was open at One Times Square. The same place where the new year is ushered in.

I happened to notice that the last days of their holiday preview were coming up. I needed something to close out the holidays with. A moment to recapture the joy of midnight on January 1st, a mini bottle of Moet & Chandon rose champagne in hand. Twisted as midnight struck.

On a whim, I bought a ticket for the observation deck. Sunday afternoon.

One Times Square is impossible to miss. Clad in black glass and adverts. Up the elevators I went. I could feel the New Year’s Eve spirit flowing through me as I left.

The numerals 26 lit up. The switch to send the ball on its downward journey. All that’s missing is people.

It was a clear, cold Sunday afternoon. You could see the Hudson River, the East River, and the avenues from each vantage point. Above my head, the Constellation Ball lit up, and so did the numbers 2026. I didn’t need to stand six hours in the cold to get this view.

As the first week of the new year went on, a familiar tune emerged.

In December, I mentioned to my sister that Georges Bizet’s opera “Carmen” was being performed at the Metropolitan Opera in mid-January. Every time I’ve heard the “Habanera” in the last three years, it has taken me back to Rome. And, an encounter with an opera singer during dinner that became the concept for my invisible muse, Caterina. I didn’t need to think about what I wanted for my birthday gift.

The Metropolitan Opera House. In the center of Lincoln Center. Paintings on the walls and elaborate chandeliers. It has been a decade since I set foot there. My sister set me up with an Orchestra seat. With champagne in hand, I was blown away by the vocal fireworks.

A frigid January continued.

But it wasn’t going to stop me from living. With the annual staff awards dinner and my Christmas gift, a ticket to a performance of Flamenco Vivo Carlota Santana.

With January behind me, February arrived.

The month went by in the blink of an eye. Valentine’s Day saw a double header. The night began with a salsa workshop and a sea of people, mostly couples. Followed by another sea of people, a Chaotic singles party.

As we reached the end of the month, a blizzard hit NYC. The type of snowfall that cancelled mass transit and forced our entire office to work remotely, as travel was banned. The snow would cause a problem. As I walked to the bus stop three days later, I slipped on a patch of ice and tweaked my left patella. I don’t know how I popped it back in and still made it to work on time.

It was the pain that limited my activity for March and April. I feared doing more damage. I didn’t trust my footing. These months became a time to focus on my writing. I began putting together my third book of poems, A Poetic Journey: Autumn Leaves. We’ll see if I get it together enough for it to see the light of day this year.

But I couldn’t stay off my feet for long.

My first concert in a while came along, Lala Lala at Club 101. The stage name of Lillie West is the daughter of my fellow Orquevaux mate, Amadea. Her tour for her album “Heaven 2” came to NYC. I got to hear “Does This Car Go Faster?” live. It got stuck in my head, once again. I met Lillie after her performance and felt awestruck through my anxiety. It’s not every day that you meet a rockstar. On a warm day, for the middle of April.

By late April, something big loomed on the horizon. At the end of the Orquevaux residency, my fellow writer Adam Stutz mentioned he would be in NYC in the spring for a poetry reading. I was there at the KGB Bar’s Red Room along with his wife, Destinee, and another fellow Orquevaux member, Liz Alterman.

​Maria. In the month of May.

As in, The Guelph Poet herself, Maria Giesbrecht. Her book tour for her first poetry collection, “A Little Feral,” stopped in NYC. After all the time spent on screen, I got to meet the head of the writing table, known as Gather, in person. She’s every bit as sweet and kind in person as she is on the calls. All I could do was cry that I couldn’t spend more time with her.

In the midst of this, my sister was away for two weeks. Living la dolce vita in Italy, as I did in September 2022. In another universe, I would’ve come home from traveling in France when her trip began.

The sliding doors moment of this year…

Last September, I found out that my Letter to Normandy won The French Table’s competition. With the prize being a Chateau Life Residency. I’d hope to travel in September of 2026. But I didn’t move fast enough when it came time to confirm the trip last year.

As a result, I would’ve been in the only spot for this year, in May. With the scheduling out of my hands, I lost the enthusiasm for the trip. I couldn’t work up the nerve to book the flights to France. It didn’t help that Orquevaux and Spain ate up my leave time at work. I wasn’t in a happy place, given all of these circumstances.

I decided to postpone the trip.

It was the combination of my lack of initiative, the overlapping schedules, and worrying about my parents being on their own, as neither of them is in good health. Yet, I felt a sense of relief.

The chateau residency will be rescheduled as the credit is good for the next three years.

I was able to move my travels over to November for a solo traveler’s tour of Central Europe. This was where my mind had been heading since the Blue Danube was heard stepping into the Austrian Airlines flight from Dubrovnik to Vienna in October 2024. In a moment of irony, there will be an overlap with my sister’s travels here, too, coming home. Go figure.

As this post comes to a close, it’s the night of the summer solstice. The longest day of the year.

I took a breather this weekend from socializing, between the sea of people at the Knicks victory parade last Thursday and the rooftop full of people dancing bachata and mingling under the crescent moon. After sitting on my behind for most of this month.

There’s a full week left of June. The World Cup is in full swing. Other than my sister’s friend’s daughter’s quinceañera coming up, I’m not sure what else I can get up to before July begins.

After all this, I don’t have a solid answer if I’ve accomplished anything in the first half of 2026.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so obsessed with accomplishments. The joy of the calendar year is in the doing.

​Here’s to all the doing that lies ahead, in the second half of 2026.