Today I felt like that guy in some older Adidas ad, who walks a bit longer one day and discovers something awesome.
I was walking on the dirty, gloomy street in front of Sculpture Center towards a lumber yard when I saw the open door of some garage with no other identifying marks. Inside the door was a very clean, upscale workshop where a kind-looking white-haired Italian was working on three Alfa Romeo racing prototypes from the 70's. One was a Tipo 33/3, and another should be a Tipo 33TT12 (the body was removed, but I could see the flat-12 engine). The cars looked old and dangerous, with their menacing Alfa red color, green four-leafed clovers and their old-fashioned, hugely fat rear tires. I walked inside being very embarrassed, said hi to the man and tried to explain that I wanted to just have a look at the cars. He said something incomprehensible in a mix of English and Italian, which I interpreted as "ok". I admired the excellent Italian machines while a bunch of Italians arrived and started talking loudly to each other in their native language. I finally waved goodbye to the white-haired man, who sent back a wide smile - maybe he was satisfied a stranger appreciated the amazing machines. It was somehow moving to see the beautiful old racecars and the old Italian engineer hidden in that frustrating and dirty corner of New York.