1. Sunday service at Shiloh Baptist Church on 131st St in Harlem. We heard a rousing sermon about o-ppor-tu-ni-tay, heard the good young people's choir and enjoyed the leisurely pace of the proceedings and the enthusiastic raptures of some of the congregants. Then...
2. Fried Chicken at Charles' Southern Kitchen. Amen.
3. Caught the second half of the European Cup final between Germany and Spain. Tried to get into La Nacional on 14th St but it was worse than a steam bath in there. So we watched the game in air conditioned luxury at the Irish bar down the block. Everybody was rooting for Spain.
As I said yesterday, the good thing about the Germans is that no one likes them. Spain won, playing spiritedly and youthfully, 1-0. An amazing goal by Torres, who runs like he's the Energizer Bunny, like he's on crack. The Spanish team members seem on average 10 years younger than their European counterparts and they play accordingly. They are tireless and they have a great goalie, Casillas.
Good for them. Although I must say this soccer fever is a bit too much. It's only a game, señores.
3. Gay Pride Parade happening as soccer game was happening as Florent's last day celebration was happening. In NYC there is room for that and more, which is why I love this town to bits.
We didn't go to Florent because after Gospel, Chicken and Soccer, we were engentadas; that is, overtaxed with humanity.
Took a nap and then watched Pascale Ferran's lovely version of D.H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley, all spring meadows and earthy sex.
Saw the fireworks for Gay Pride reflected on the windows of the building in front of us.
Who knew Sundays could be so eventful?