John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Musings from NYC

New York Notebook.

A Kentucky family spends a few days in the Big Apple just before  their college-bound son leaves for his freshman year.  There is a parental sense of obligation to expose him at least once to the big city before leaving the nest. There is no real itinerary. Just a last minute plan to get to NY, see the city, and return safely home. And hopes that the entire family feels that they can “Make it there.” Because, as the song says, if you can do that, “You can make it anywhere.”

And I gotta admit I really do Iike that song. Even if I haven’t cared a great deal for New York.  But I’m keeping an open mind and trying to see the city with fresh eyes and try to make sense of it. With the occasional post for The Recovering Politician blog.

I am in New York City and amazed at how little difference there is between here and back home in Kentucky.

Here’s a picture from the subway.

It’s just like Walmart except underground an not as well organized in different sections.

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More on NY. Well….they have the iPhone here too. Shoot! Hoping we’d have them on that one.

Based in conversations so far most everyone is working only part-time or in a temporary job. And most everyone is really a full-time actor, actress or model. And a solid number of can drivers.

Pretty limited economy, if you ask me.

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Yesterday I was having trouble with a mobile device and went to the Verizon store to see if they would exchange it.

There was a pleasant looking Egyptian gentleman behind me who listened as I explained my situation. The store clerk politely said I couldn’t exchange it. I thanked him and left. Two blocks later I hear a “Sir. Excuse me, sir!” It was the Egyptian man from the store.

“I overheard you and was wondering if you’d like to sell to me.”

“Well, I don’t know. Really?” I gave him a price that was more than I expected.”

He countered just slightly lower and I said OK.

He paid me cash and I introduced myself. He said, his name was Mohammad (or “Mo”) and that he was head waiter at The Palm restaurant down the street and we should try it out. He told me about his son in Egypt (who the device was for) and said he thought it was a fair deal. I agreed and we shook hands and parted ways.

Later in the day I called The Palm and made a reservation for dinner. It’s an historic restaurant with a long and colorful history that is obvious from the walls which are covered with pictures, drawings and news clippings from the past.

We were seated and I surprised my family by asking if Mo was working that night.

The maitre d smiled broadly and said he would let Mo know I had arrived. A few minutes later we were warmly greeted like old friends and long time patrons.

My family was impressed.

I offered slyly, “What can I say? I know some people who know some people…..and, yes, Mo is a friend.”

Truth is New York used to intimidate me.

Truth is I found a hotel and made reservations and picked out a restaurant tonight for the family.

Truth is I walked the streets of the city today and no one seemed able to notice I was trying hard not to be noticed by standing out like a tourist. Which means I basically fit in.

Truth is I’m feeling pretty grown up right now.

Truth is at 49 I still consider that a small but worthy victory.

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NY City will toughen you up in short order. The hustle bustle and proud dog eat dog competitive spirit is not for the faint hearted.

Just now I ordered coffee at a crowded cafe. It was really hot but I didn’t dare ask for a sleeve for my cup. I just put in the cream and sugar and slyly placed a napkin in my pocket until I was outside and a block away.

Wish I’d gotten two napkins.

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Fighting through discouragement. In  NY hotel gyms.

Trying to hold my own with athlete-executives in my NY hotel who look like they are trying to rule corporate America while simultaneously training as triathletes (and bitter there isn’t a quad-athlete category for them) isn’t easy. It’s not a work out as much as some sort of primitive preening to see who is king of the jungle, so to speak. It’s a test of who is the Alpha-male who has the room with a nicest view, can resist the mini-bar sweets and still do 200 sit ups.

This is my fourth consecutive day that I have gotten really close to working out.   I mean really close.  As close as you can come to working out without actually working out.  So, super serious close.

And yet, I can’t say I feel like I have anything to show for these last 4 days. No new muscle tone; no pain from muscle breakdown and recovery. No improved self-esteem.

Which leads to the obvious next question.  If I have nothing to show for 4 consecutive days of almost working out, how can I be expected to maintain the enthusiasm to almost workout tomorrow?

I mean, hell, I don’t even want to be king of the jungle, if you want to know the truth.. And besides I ate both the plain and peanut MMs in the mini-bar last night. And my window faces the alley.

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A few people I know get irked at me when I say to them, “it’s all good.”

They are the people back home who would fit in well in NY.

They don’t care for easy going optimistic pleasantness.

They want to clarify that it is not, in fact, “all” good.

They are serious people and exactness of speech matters to them.

So for them I am modifying the phrase to “It’s all tolerable”

I think that’s probably what easy-going optimistic and pleasant New Yorkers think instead  of “It’s all good.” Just seems more New Yorky to say “It’s all tolerable.”

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How to hail a cab in NY during rush hour when you have to get back to hotel immediately:

1) Wave arm
2) Yell, “Taxi” and wave arm.
3) If taxi is at a stop light with someone in the car, offer them $10 to get out of the taxi.
4) If the taxi is at a stop light with someone in the car, offer the cab driver $10 to make them get out.
5) “I’m feeling a big tip coming on for someone. Might as well be you!”
6) “Come on! Please….I really need a taxi more than the other people on this block.”
7) “I’m developing a complex if someone doesn’t pick me up soon.”
8) “I’m a nice guy and promise not to talk a lot”
9) “Don’t pick me up. I don’t want a taxi ….so don’t even try to pick me up.” (Reverse psychology)
10) Begin with a wave and end with only a single finger still pointed as they pass by.

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Good morning, NY.

Where the first thing I see on a Sunday morning when I flick on the TV at 7:50am is a Cialis advertisement, complete with the long list of worrisome side effect warnings.

And everyone in the ad is smiling mischievously as if to reassure us that it’s worth it.

I’m guessing Sunday Blue Laws are not in effect in this section of the city. I can hear Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz say, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

That ad is followed by an ad for a dating website.

I need my coffee. Just so to brace for the TV ads that will be coming at me next hour.

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The Apple Store on 5th Avenue in NY is the equivalent of Mecca for Muslims. For those who practice the Apple religion it is required that once in your life you must make the Pilgrimage to the great Apple Holy Temple.

Outside is a large glass structure open 24/7 for those in need of Apple Support. Inside it is a community bound together by the knowledge they are on a much better path to technological salvation than there PC brethren.

I am experiencing a crisis of faith

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Advice I just uttered to my kids that I think is probably truer than I thought when I said it

Trying to explain childish behavior from an adult in a NY coffee shop we were talking to, I said “Don’t be fooled. Grown ups feel about the same things teenagers do. We just get better at hiding it from others. And ourselves.”

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If you think the visiting the international pavilions at Disney’s Epcot center is a good way to experience great cultural diversity in a condensed geographical area, you should try traveling and conversing with NY City cab drivers for a few days. In 3 days I have had substantive conversations with individuals from North Africa, South America, Russia, Cuba, India, Georgia (bulldog type), Queens (borough type), and Egypt.

My favorite quote so far: “You can take the man out of the South; but can’t take the South out of the man” My Georgian (bulldog type) cabbie who has lived in NY for 49 years. But is about to retire and move back to Savannah.Favorite story: The Russian cab driver who felt the police were out to get him by ticketing him several times for reckless driving was a tie for first place. With a second story he told me in response to my question of weirdest customer. “I was offered to drive to a very dangerous area at 2am once a week by a drug dealer for him to pick up and drop off drugs. He offered to pay me a $50 fare for each trip. No questions asked.”

After a pause I asked him what did he decide to do. “I told him I would do it. But only on slow nights.”

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How can you tell someone isn’t a native New Yorker?

He gets excited about seeing Magnolias Bakery and takes a picture of it and posts it on Facebook, Because he recognizes it from the cupcake scene on SNL’s Lazy Sunday short.

And it’s a Busy Tuesday and he doesn’t even know what “Mackin on cupcakes” means.

Just that the whole episode is super cool and he wants to tell his friends!

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New York is nothing if not busy. People do almost everything here better than the rest of our country. Except connect. Everyone seems in a hurry. Some know why. Other’s don’t but know but know they better appear to be in a hurry or they will get left behind.

There isn’t time to connect and it isn’t efficient. And so many tools now to make it easier than ever to live isolated in our nation’s most densely populated several mile radius.

You wonder what they thinking. Or feeling.  Or how the world looks to them.

Remember the famous shot of planet Earth astronauts captured to show us what “our world” looked like? It was a beautiful thing to behold. But that was over 40 years ago.

Few people I see on the bustling streets look up or out. Or even within.

And this appears to be what our world looks like in 2012.

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Headed home.

I think we all feel like “We can make it there” now. That matters. To each of us. I don’t need to belittle New Yorkers. Or pretend I don’t understand them. I embrace them. They are my brothers and sisters. And maybe one other sexual orientation I haven’t quite pinpointed…but consider family nonetheless.  We are more alike than different. For sure.  New Yorkers have iPhones. Just like mine. The main difference is they probably ask Siri more serious questions than I do and don’t try as often to trick her into saying humorous things to non-nonsensical questions.

Sure New Yorkers look and sound a little different. But if you spend a few days with them, it’s hard to hold that against them. Or for them to hold that against you.

Leaving New York  feels like leaving a visit with a really cool and talented cousin you never knew you had. But who also could irritate you by being a controlling know-it –all but who, you eventually decide, you love like the rest of your cousins and even trust your kids around, In fact, he may even be your favorite cousin–even though you’ve also learned you can only take him in small bites. But a cousin who you genuinely like and want to stay in touch with. For one thing, he’s more fun than you want to admit. And for another, you can’t help but feel he may be in a position to help you professionally some day –or at least help you get tickets to something fun you want to attend. That’s how I feel about New York as I board the plane home.

And, as Forest Gump was fond of saying, “That’s all I’m going to say about that.”