Hof
June 29th, 2008, 02:11 PM
I used to live in Manhattan; I did but I don't anymore.
Had an address in Park Slope too,but that was long ago.
In '72 I fled NY for warmer climate,and I don't regret a minute of it.
In '72 I was MAD at New York.
It's title,"Fun City" had become an ironic joke to me.It had let me down by becoming increasingly seedy,like a favorite uncle gone to drink.It was unruly and unkempt and after 7 years,I'd had enough.Enough of the crummy weather,the subways,the social disorder,the abusive taxes,the dirty streets and buildings.
NY was the only place I had ever lived where a fresh white shirt in the morning meant a black collar at sunset.I was tired of my job and my main friends had all moved on,leaving me with second-tier acquaintences.My money was always thin and was getting thinner.
NY wore me out and I needed to go,so when the opportunity knocked I answered.
For 24 Februarys I basked in sunshine,reading about all the horrible things that were going on in my ex-hometown,and I grew smug and told-you-so in my tropical cocoon as I avoided even the CHANCE of going to NY. (I went once,in 1985,to a funeral in Queens and did a Manhattan pass-through,doing nothing but killing time until my plane got me out of there).
Then I went to work for a company that sent me up to NYC on a regular basis--for 5 days at a time,a few times a year.
They were headquartered on Long Island,but the offices were mere steps from the LIE,so after a day of boring meetings I'd hop the train and revel in the nighttime Manhattan splendor.
On my first ride in 24 years into Town I was tense.
What if the City is the same as when I left it???
What if it's WORSE???
What if I freakin' FORGOT how to act like a Native???
I just didn't know.
Well,it was like running into an old girlfriend on the street,or having a friendly drink with an ex-wife,then getting lucky.
Only a few minutes out of Penn Station and I could see the changes.They were immediate,and very pleasing.I rambled through old haunts,re-visited places familiar to me in another life,sought out old friends.I caught taxis,ate pizza,re-learned the subway,drank beer in the Cafe WHA? I realized that I was home again and it was a better place than when I left it.
I could see that the City had indeed changed.It was cleaner,friendlier and was just as expensive as I remembered it,but somehow I felt I was getting VALUE for the bucks I spent.
So I began going back,sometimes piggybacking my work with my pleasure,sometimes just flying up for a weekend.(The next business-related visit I made,I stayed in The City and took a train out to the meetings.My Boss,who was paying the bills,thought I was crazy,but he was from Atlanta and thought that anyone who got transferred to New York should get Hazard Pay).
I had discovered New York again,and I couldn't get enough of it.
Since my Prodigal Return in '95,I've been to NY 20 times.
Throughout all my visits,I have come to assemble a mental checklist ("Why I Love New York -The List") about The Big City,and when the little Brooklyn-accented voice in my head begins running down the List,well, I know it's time for me to get back to New York,maybe add an eleventh thing to the list.
Anyway,here it is...
>Coming to New York.
Whether I drive or fly,mere admission to the Apple is an adventure,a excitible prelude to the First Act.I've come to NY through each of the airports and I've driven into the City across all the bridges and through all the tunnels.I now anticipate the Big Goosebump everytime I get near.
It always happens,too.---"Wow,I'm BACK!!!"
>Stepping out and onto the streets.
When I get to my hotel I abandon everything in my room and I immediately hit the streets.Doesn't matter what time it is,I need to walk,to ramble around and see what's what.
>Choosing a hotel.The choices are a mental maze.Mostly,the places I wind up at have been OK.There have been a few clinkers,but overall I've found some prety good ones.I try to choose hotels where I have not stayed before,just to spice up the visit,but recently I have found myself gravitating to a few favorites.
>Eating...And Drinking.
I love to eat.I do it every day,and have been for years.But when I get to The City I'm suddenly confronted with endless eating choices,so many that I sometimes skip a meal just to leave room for what is to come.I love to re-feel that.Then,when I leave The City,I regret all the restaurants that I missed.I vow to visit them on my next trip,giving the little voice something new to talk about.
And the drinking part??? Like the sidewalk,it's all over town.
>Being/not being a Tourist.
I know the City well and I know how to act,but I still see the place through fresh,East Jesus eyes each time I'm there.And I look forward to avoiding Times Square,but somehow I always wind up there.
>Charting the Changes.
There are always new buildings that have gone up since my last time through,and always old ones that are gone forever.That sometimes produces joy,sometimes dismay,but it's balanced by the understanding that NY is organic and it will always change.Besides,the new stuff is great eye candy.
Each visit always yields something fresh,like everything always costing MORE than before,or yellow minivan taxi-like machines replacing the Fords...
>Energy.
I'm sparked by New York.I want to meld myself into the incredible energy that brings its' percieved vibrancy to the place.There is no city anywhere that I have visited that delivers that feeling of aliveness that NY owns.Often,on my visits I'll park myself somewhere and street-watch,absorbed by the endless motion around me.I'll hang around for so long that I must look like a stalker or a Belleview outpatient to the passersby,but what the hell??
>Spending money.
There is no better place to drop a few thousand than NY.Not Vegas,not Hawaii,not Montreal--they are just costly adventures.New York is a money spenders' delight,and the City knows more tricks than the most voracious casino to invent ways to part you from your dollar.
Crosstown, rush hour, in-the-rain taxi--thirty plus tip??? I'll pay it,especially if I go through Central Park.
Thirteen bucks to go to the top of the Trade Center???--Why not???
Twenty for a burger and a beer??? --OK.
48 dollars for TWO rounds of beer???--Astounding.
Seven dollars for some Camel Lights???--OUCH!!!
Twelve to see the Skyscraper Museum.,or a thirty-percent tax on a hotel room--"Why not?",I ask again.
And again.
This kind of mindless spending can--and does--go on all day.
>Riding the rails.
I love the Subway.It's New York's neighborhoods,distilled down to where they can all fit into an aluminum tube that goes fast.Each time you come to a stop,the whole subway car neighborhood changes,mingles,merges,just like the Real City.Entire ethnicities vanish through the doors,to be replaced by new exotics going somewhere else.
Each time you leave one of the screechy,humid stations a whole new slice of the City is available at the top of the steps.It is no longer a threatening place (as it was when I depended on the Subway).
The Subway is an ongoing adventure.
>Skyscrapers,brownstones and stores.
Besides pizza,this is why I come to New York.I have always loved architecture.It doesn't have to be tall or imposing or historic.It can be the most mundane of structures but can still shine because of where it is and what it sits next to.It can be festooned with terracotta or naked in it's steel and glass,but if it's in New York it is somehow special.
Each time I walk around I'm doing something special.I'm seeing history,I'm hearing whispered stories of what happened there,or who lived HERE some seventy years ago.I'm seeing the high-rise decisions of long-dead millionaires sparkle on the Avenues and the fresh steel bones of tomorrow's New York aborning,seemingly everywhere.
I could add a lot more here,really compile a super list of the things that draw me to The Big City,but I won't.
That Brooklyn voice is urging me to add to The List and before the summer is a memory,I WILL add another.Or two.
Had an address in Park Slope too,but that was long ago.
In '72 I fled NY for warmer climate,and I don't regret a minute of it.
In '72 I was MAD at New York.
It's title,"Fun City" had become an ironic joke to me.It had let me down by becoming increasingly seedy,like a favorite uncle gone to drink.It was unruly and unkempt and after 7 years,I'd had enough.Enough of the crummy weather,the subways,the social disorder,the abusive taxes,the dirty streets and buildings.
NY was the only place I had ever lived where a fresh white shirt in the morning meant a black collar at sunset.I was tired of my job and my main friends had all moved on,leaving me with second-tier acquaintences.My money was always thin and was getting thinner.
NY wore me out and I needed to go,so when the opportunity knocked I answered.
For 24 Februarys I basked in sunshine,reading about all the horrible things that were going on in my ex-hometown,and I grew smug and told-you-so in my tropical cocoon as I avoided even the CHANCE of going to NY. (I went once,in 1985,to a funeral in Queens and did a Manhattan pass-through,doing nothing but killing time until my plane got me out of there).
Then I went to work for a company that sent me up to NYC on a regular basis--for 5 days at a time,a few times a year.
They were headquartered on Long Island,but the offices were mere steps from the LIE,so after a day of boring meetings I'd hop the train and revel in the nighttime Manhattan splendor.
On my first ride in 24 years into Town I was tense.
What if the City is the same as when I left it???
What if it's WORSE???
What if I freakin' FORGOT how to act like a Native???
I just didn't know.
Well,it was like running into an old girlfriend on the street,or having a friendly drink with an ex-wife,then getting lucky.
Only a few minutes out of Penn Station and I could see the changes.They were immediate,and very pleasing.I rambled through old haunts,re-visited places familiar to me in another life,sought out old friends.I caught taxis,ate pizza,re-learned the subway,drank beer in the Cafe WHA? I realized that I was home again and it was a better place than when I left it.
I could see that the City had indeed changed.It was cleaner,friendlier and was just as expensive as I remembered it,but somehow I felt I was getting VALUE for the bucks I spent.
So I began going back,sometimes piggybacking my work with my pleasure,sometimes just flying up for a weekend.(The next business-related visit I made,I stayed in The City and took a train out to the meetings.My Boss,who was paying the bills,thought I was crazy,but he was from Atlanta and thought that anyone who got transferred to New York should get Hazard Pay).
I had discovered New York again,and I couldn't get enough of it.
Since my Prodigal Return in '95,I've been to NY 20 times.
Throughout all my visits,I have come to assemble a mental checklist ("Why I Love New York -The List") about The Big City,and when the little Brooklyn-accented voice in my head begins running down the List,well, I know it's time for me to get back to New York,maybe add an eleventh thing to the list.
Anyway,here it is...
>Coming to New York.
Whether I drive or fly,mere admission to the Apple is an adventure,a excitible prelude to the First Act.I've come to NY through each of the airports and I've driven into the City across all the bridges and through all the tunnels.I now anticipate the Big Goosebump everytime I get near.
It always happens,too.---"Wow,I'm BACK!!!"
>Stepping out and onto the streets.
When I get to my hotel I abandon everything in my room and I immediately hit the streets.Doesn't matter what time it is,I need to walk,to ramble around and see what's what.
>Choosing a hotel.The choices are a mental maze.Mostly,the places I wind up at have been OK.There have been a few clinkers,but overall I've found some prety good ones.I try to choose hotels where I have not stayed before,just to spice up the visit,but recently I have found myself gravitating to a few favorites.
>Eating...And Drinking.
I love to eat.I do it every day,and have been for years.But when I get to The City I'm suddenly confronted with endless eating choices,so many that I sometimes skip a meal just to leave room for what is to come.I love to re-feel that.Then,when I leave The City,I regret all the restaurants that I missed.I vow to visit them on my next trip,giving the little voice something new to talk about.
And the drinking part??? Like the sidewalk,it's all over town.
>Being/not being a Tourist.
I know the City well and I know how to act,but I still see the place through fresh,East Jesus eyes each time I'm there.And I look forward to avoiding Times Square,but somehow I always wind up there.
>Charting the Changes.
There are always new buildings that have gone up since my last time through,and always old ones that are gone forever.That sometimes produces joy,sometimes dismay,but it's balanced by the understanding that NY is organic and it will always change.Besides,the new stuff is great eye candy.
Each visit always yields something fresh,like everything always costing MORE than before,or yellow minivan taxi-like machines replacing the Fords...
>Energy.
I'm sparked by New York.I want to meld myself into the incredible energy that brings its' percieved vibrancy to the place.There is no city anywhere that I have visited that delivers that feeling of aliveness that NY owns.Often,on my visits I'll park myself somewhere and street-watch,absorbed by the endless motion around me.I'll hang around for so long that I must look like a stalker or a Belleview outpatient to the passersby,but what the hell??
>Spending money.
There is no better place to drop a few thousand than NY.Not Vegas,not Hawaii,not Montreal--they are just costly adventures.New York is a money spenders' delight,and the City knows more tricks than the most voracious casino to invent ways to part you from your dollar.
Crosstown, rush hour, in-the-rain taxi--thirty plus tip??? I'll pay it,especially if I go through Central Park.
Thirteen bucks to go to the top of the Trade Center???--Why not???
Twenty for a burger and a beer??? --OK.
48 dollars for TWO rounds of beer???--Astounding.
Seven dollars for some Camel Lights???--OUCH!!!
Twelve to see the Skyscraper Museum.,or a thirty-percent tax on a hotel room--"Why not?",I ask again.
And again.
This kind of mindless spending can--and does--go on all day.
>Riding the rails.
I love the Subway.It's New York's neighborhoods,distilled down to where they can all fit into an aluminum tube that goes fast.Each time you come to a stop,the whole subway car neighborhood changes,mingles,merges,just like the Real City.Entire ethnicities vanish through the doors,to be replaced by new exotics going somewhere else.
Each time you leave one of the screechy,humid stations a whole new slice of the City is available at the top of the steps.It is no longer a threatening place (as it was when I depended on the Subway).
The Subway is an ongoing adventure.
>Skyscrapers,brownstones and stores.
Besides pizza,this is why I come to New York.I have always loved architecture.It doesn't have to be tall or imposing or historic.It can be the most mundane of structures but can still shine because of where it is and what it sits next to.It can be festooned with terracotta or naked in it's steel and glass,but if it's in New York it is somehow special.
Each time I walk around I'm doing something special.I'm seeing history,I'm hearing whispered stories of what happened there,or who lived HERE some seventy years ago.I'm seeing the high-rise decisions of long-dead millionaires sparkle on the Avenues and the fresh steel bones of tomorrow's New York aborning,seemingly everywhere.
I could add a lot more here,really compile a super list of the things that draw me to The Big City,but I won't.
That Brooklyn voice is urging me to add to The List and before the summer is a memory,I WILL add another.Or two.