I would not presently be here in New York if it weren't for the euphoria of that first spring. Everyone should know such euphoria when everything is beautiful and possible. Don Quixote, in The Man of La Mancha, is said to have been either "the maddest sane man or the sanest mad man." Was I mad that spring? It is true that many psychiatrists would call this particular brand of euphoria "mania." I will admit that I was in a non-ordinary state of consciousness, and, yes, my feet weren't always touching the ground. In fact, just prior to my trip to New York my friends and relatives in Florida felt they recognized the symptoms of my precarious state. They were aware of my labeled condition from past experiences. So they managed to have me taken to The Mental Health Resource Center. However, I managed to talk my way out of that facility in time to fly to New York on the first day of spring!
Yes, the first day of spring…You see, as I explained to the psychiatrist and the social workers, I already had my ticket to New York and it was non-refundable. Besides, an elderly friend, Papa Elmer, needed me. He was going to a funeral and what would he do without me? My persuasive powers were in full bloom.
I didn't tell them that I had, as yet, no place to stay in New York—that, in fact, I knew no one in New York. I didn't tell them that the funeral was in Budapest.
Actually, Papa Elmer and I had both planned to go to Budapest, but we didn't have enough money for both tickets. Since we already had the non-refundable tickets to New York, the plan was that I would go to New York and see Papa Elmer off and be there when he returned.
Perhaps Papa Elmer's being elderly was why he didn't see anything "crazy" about me. He did ask, "Do you have a place to stay in New York?" I assured him that I did, even though at the time I didn't know where. I was confident that "the way would open" because I felt I was supposed to go to New York. I had something Very Important to do there although I wasn't sure what that was either.
I continued to make plans while in The Mental Health Resource Center. Recalling that my friend, Joel, used to live in New York, I thought maybe he had a friend with whom I might stay. I rang Joel and he, glad to be helpful, said he would call his friend, Tony, in New York. I carefully told him I would call him back. I didn't want him to know I was in The Mental Health Resource Center. When I rang back, Joel told me that it was arranged for me to stay with Tony's friend, Estelle. Now if I could just get out of this place in time to catch the plane!
While awaiting the release verdict, I made good use of the time by cheering up people and singing and dancing—although not overdoing the singing and dancing. I wasn't so high in "mania" that I didn't realize I needed to be a little discreet, lest my "mania" show too much.
The main person I cheered up was Arthur, a young black man. He said he was there for depression, feeling he was of no use to anyone. I told him that this was entirely wrong. He was, in fact, a Prince, I was positive. Prince Arthur, that's who he was, I said.
Well, Arthur believed me and his face began to glow. We became partners in cheering people up. Arthur was an artist and he drew pictures with verses on them: "He shall judge the poor of the people, he shall save the children of the needy..." and "I will praise thee, O Lord, among the people: I will sing unto thee among the nations."
As things turned out, Prince Arthur was also released on the first day of spring. This perfect timing enabled Papa Elmer and I to be driven to the airport by none other than Prince Arthur himself! I have a photo of the three of us having breakfast together at the airport and if you could see the picture, you would see that Prince Arthur's face did indeed glow and that he definitely was a Prince.
Prince Arthur said "Goodbye" to Papa Elmer and me and so, despite all efforts to detain me, I was off to New York City and the Statue of Liberty, keeper of dreams!