Climate change is no joke. But then again, we have been complaining about the weather ever since the first washed-out barbeque back in the Pleistocene era (before Doppler radar). It is a well-known fact that there are only three weekends a year when it is truly the perfect time to dine and imbibe outdoors. No unexpected snow flurries. No blistering heat wave. No swarms of gnats to swat from your humidity-drenched deck. A quick glance at the national weather map suggests this might be one of those weekends.
The urban dweller has long embraced the rooftop lounge concept and New York may offer some of the best natural scenery on the planet. The Rooftop at HGU has opened its doors and offers the usual complement of cheerful beachy drinks and beautiful people to get you thinking about that Hamptons share. Even if an oceanfront place is not in your budget, the view here isn’t half bad.
If outdoor dining and recreation is your thing, the local ballpark will be more than happy to oblige. You can score a Wagyu hangar steak or a lobster roll at Yankee Stadium or watch your budget and limit yourself to $16 cans of beer and a hot dog. At least the brews are tall boys, so you are mostly getting two for the price of one. And again, that view. Score the upper deck cheap seats on Stubhub and move down to the rail. On a beautiful spring night it is still the best deal in town.
Many an urban prisoner has dreamt of trading it all in for the ‘burbs just to get their hands on a grill again. No need. Your friends (at least the hip artsy ones) have all decamped to Brooklyn. Just say yes to that barbeque invite or be a pioneer and take to any number of New York parks that are a summertime party all to themselves. The schlep on the subway isn’t that bad and the smell of grill smoke wafting through the boroughs is pure bliss.
And if all else fails, there is always the rooftop sanitarium to provide a bit of blessed relief from the daily onslaught. Put down the phone. Grab a book and the beat-up beach chaise lounge from your storage closet and head on up. The sounds of the city are like gently rolling waves as you close your eyes and know that you have found your private 16 square feet of tar-top bliss. Happy spring weekend. It might truly, finally be here.