In this city, even a pile of trash can be inspiring. Who wrote this? Why did they write it? What thoughts does it trigger in those walking by? What are their dreams?
What a great thing to come across on an average, every day, run of the mill commute.
Tired of the persistent rain in the Northeast? So am I. And apparently so is the New York 4 weather team because this week’s forecast doesn’t include one mention of rain. Will it rain? Heck yeah. They’ve just stopped using the word.
Mon – Quite Damp
Tue – Still moist
Wed – Drying Out
Thu – Showers Return
Fri – A little Milder
Sat – Late Day Drops
Sun – Mixed Sky
This is the actual week-long forecast from this morning (5/3/09). Each corresponding photo (except for Wed) – whether it is “still moist” or we’ll see “late day drops” – still looks like rain to me.
Way to go NY4 — you are the most creative weather team on the air!
And I thought my gym bag felt heavy! I noticed this slight girl this morning stepping off the Path train with this, a cello or something huge and instrumental, strapped to her back like the weight of the world. For the amount of musical venues and shows going on daily in NYC, it’s something to think about all of the musicians who have to bring their gear on public transportation.
Have you ever been on a train where someone’s amp or drum kit is blocking the doors? It’s not fun for you to step around, but just think how annoying it is for the musician. This is all why I play the harmonica.
Instrumental Burden
Hello? Anybody there? …
Anybody Home?
Also, if you’ve watched The Godfather as many times as I have, you’ll understand: I was walking east on 23rd, after I took this shot, when I heard someone say “Hello, Carlo,” in a soft, menacing tone. I immediately put my hands up to my neck to protect against a piano wire choking from behind. Luckily, nothing happened. I looked over to see two men shaking hands and I remembered, my name is not Carlo.
What’s the worst store name you’ve ever seen? Give me your comments. This is what I came across this morning on my commute. Pretty terrible, but I know there are worse.
Video Hospital
If your video equipment is sick enough to require a hospital, this place is on 12th and 4th.
This is actually my second post of the day. The first came in the early hours of the morning when the horrendous sounds of jackhammering were beating their way into my apartment. It was one in the morning, and then two in the morning and I was still awake. I wrote this post then went to outside to see who was doing the work and go to Lyric Diner to maybe clear my head.
It was the Department of Environmental Protection and they were working like crazy. How could I be mad at people that are working at all hours to protect our environment? I walked two blocks to Lyric Diner and got a cup of decaf. I spoke with the head waiter, exchanging pleasantries and then sharing my story of the drilling taking place just a block and a half away.
“I work at night, so I have to deal with that everyday,” the man said. It turns out he’s worked the night shift at Lyric for the past four years and sleeps everyday with a pair of earplugs to deaden the sounds of your typical New York City day.
“Somedays it works,” he says, “Some days it doesn’t.”
I was thinking about this on my walk this morning. And when I passed a newsbox on 23rd and 6th to see President Obama on the cover it struck me that the change that will help America most in these times is in our thoughts, in our intentions.
Our forefathers didn’t sacrifice everything, accept the label of traitors, and build a country through the physical. It was the mental shift in thought that took them the distance.
I had to put up with one night of lost sleep. That’s nothing compared to 4 years. Maybe the last 8 years will be nothing compared to the next hundred. It’s all in how you look at it.
President Obama and Michelle
A few short weeks ago I wrote about how I prefer walking through New York City streets to sitting in my car, stuck in traffic, and never really engaging in my surroundings. Well, F it. The idealist view is so great until something goes wrong. And something always goes wrong. This is what the morning looked like:
Drains Overflowing
As I type this my pants are clinging to my calves, the material soaked through and through. Oh how nice would it be to have hopped in a car and driven to work, listening to the mellow tap of the rain against the wnidshield. But, to use an expression I absolutely hate, my commute is what it is. Next time it rains I’ll be prepared with a real umbrella:
Umbrella
New York City Contruction Company installs water slide to liven workers’ spirits. Length is severely miscalculated.
Construction Site NYC
This was seen on my commute on 9th Street just before 6th avenue.
I’m feeling the need to reflect, as everyone else is, on the passing of 2008.
Everyday, I see this at the outset of my morning commute through New York City:
22nd Street, NYC
It’s pretty much the one thing I’m certain to see. That, and my destination. The path I take is only as certain as each block is long. Then I come to another block and another decision of how to proceed.
Some days I’ll take a more direct route and get to work more speedily. But when I arrive maybe the person I needed to talk to isn’t there yet. Most days, 5 or 10 minutes (a new block or two to explore) doesn’t make any difference with my work schedule. I can make a few turns one wouldn’t normally make and see new things and get to work either on time or a few minutes later. For the consistency of the still sleepy office before 9:15, maybe it’s worth it for me to follow these diversions. Maybe I’ll learn something.
That’s the way I look at 2009. We know where we stand, and we know where we want to go. Our personal destination, while it comes in infinite packages, can be generalized as being content and feeling purpose in life. So why not take some turns you might not normally take along the way? You never know what might pop up. Now, if the route you’ve found provides you with all you need then more power to you. Avoid distraction.
But for most of us, this year is as good as any to take some new turns. Seek out another route while keeping your destination in focus. It could lead to a better way. Or even a new destination. Who knows?
Happy New Year!
I wish I was in Antarctica, where it’s warmer today. I’m not kidding. I checked the temperature. At a frigid 15 degrees (feels like -4), New York City is 20 degrees colder than Antarctica, which at McMerdo station is supposed to be 35 today. You could hop on a cruise ship and find yourself amid soaring glaciers and ice flows and you’d still be warmer than in Times Square.
The coldest temperature ever recorded in Antarctica was -129F and the coldest temp recorded in New York was -52F in 1979. I can’t really believe that but it’s in a USA Today article here.
Weekend NYC Snow
Antarctica last week, courtesy of Lindblad Expeditions and photographer Sisse Brimberg
Snow at Gramercy Park this morning.
My poor, poor camera battery. I took a photo this morning of my regular bagel cart on 23rd and when I went to view it the screen went gray and read, “Warning! Battery Exhausted.”
Maybe I haven’t been as considerate as I could have been to my battery. I’ve been demanding a lot of him (yes, him) lately, with this blog and all. So maybe it’s me who is at fault here. I keep pushing and pushing. Shot after shot. And now he’s pushing back.
Dude, give the photos a rest. I’m exhausted in here.
It reminded me of a bit by comedian Demetri Martin where he talks about the dramatic life of batteries. They’re either working or they’re dead. “That’s a pretty shit life,” he says. Well, Demetri, my battery is simply exhausted – pooped, laid up, temporarily out of commision.
And I’m pround of the little guy for sticking it out. Begging for a recharge and another round. I think there is something to be learned from rechargable batteries.
It’s when we as people push and push ourselves past the brink of exhaustion that we have anxiety, stress and ultimately, breakdowns. Take a step back. Think for a bit. Things have been pretty stressful lately. Maybe it’s time for a recharge.
I’ve been home for a few days and away from the walking world of New York City. My commutes thus far have been 30 minutes to my grandparent’s house for a Thanksgiving feast that left me asleep on the couch by 6. (Eating begins at two o’clock and runs straight through until dinner, which begins promptly at four-thirty). The other commute was a drive of a little over an hour to visit my friend’s new house.
After both of these drives I can’t help but reflect on how not present I as during either of them. The car is moving you. You make minor adjustments – pressing a peddel an inch closer to the ground or letting it come an inch up or moving a hydraulicly assisted wheel to the right or left – but really it’s the car doing all the work. Not so when you have to walk through New York every morning and night in the now cold and windy weather. With walking you feel every step. You hear your breathing change. You know one second to the next how you feel.
When I was driving I swear there were entire miles when I was zoned out. And I now realize why people stay in New York their entire lives. Because it’s there that they feel something. Whether it’s good or bad. Even with the sting of walking a half an hour on a twenty-degree morning. Smelling the dog urine that covers one block or the aromatic flower shop on the next corner. Seeing a homeless man wrapped in blankets or a movie star, kids playing the the park or a super hot movie star (yes, I have walked past Uma Thurman and Debra Messing). Good or bad, you know you’re alive. You’re not a drifter, being carried along a highway.
No matter how fast that car can take you, the feeling is never as permeating as the thoughtful steps you take from one block to another.
Just a thought.
