Monday, September 28, 2009
The Language Barrier
I was reared by a genteel woman, a lady. A Southern lady. There were certain words which were never used in our home. For example, one never used the term (and it makes me cringe to write it here) "pee." When in public, one did not announce that one needed to go to the restroom, but rather that one needed to be excused. You can understand why my son was a little concerned about my moving to New York where the "F" word flies around like bullets during deer season. And oh does it fly, from Fulton Street to Wall Street, from the school hallways to the faculty lounge, if you are in Manhattan you will hear New Yorkers describing everything, good bad or indifferent as "F..n" Now I must admit that it took months before my heart ceased to race and the fight or flight response ceased to kick in upon hearing the term. Gradually, I began to realize, that the word did not have the same meaning to New Yorkers as it does to me, and I suspect most native East Texas ladies. And gradually, it has insidiously begun to present itself in my mind (though never from my lips) when I am considering how to describe some new event or site in the city. The first time it happened my son and I were watching a television crime drama and the police car from the show, stopped in front of Regal Row in Washington Square (that's in Greenwich Village). My son looked at me and said, "Mom, we live in New "F...n" York. And I smiled and agreed with him. The next time it happened I was walking across the street and looked down Fifth Avenue and said to myself, "That is the Empire "F...n" State Building." Oh my mother rolled over in her grave, but I must admit, it was an apt description. I do reserve the term for moments of extreme awe, such as when I was riding the F train to Park Slope where it goes above ground and I looked out over the East River and there was the Statue of "F...n" Liberty." And I said to my mother, who is always with me in spirit, "Oh moma, if you were here, you would find yourself at a loss for words and who knows if you might use the "f...n, "F" word yourself." I have yet to actually say the word and probably never will as should I do so, Daddy would probably rise up out of his grave tell me to "F...n" stop rousing moma so he could rest in peace.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Visiting Vincent at the MOMA
A friend of my believes that all artists should have quit after Van Gogh. I share his regard. There was an exhibit of his work presented at the MoMA, (Museum of Modern Art) entitled Van Gogh, Colors of the Night. The Exhibition tells the story of Van Gogh's quest to paint the night sky. This was not so simple a task. He literally could not see to paint in the dark of night in this time before electricity. The exhibition features his attempts to paint from memory and moonlight until finally he realizes that he can use the gaslight at the outskirts of the town and see to paint in the dark. There is a painting which demonstrates this. His simple goal reveals a man who was pure of heart. He sold less than five paintings in his lifetime. He sought neither riches nor fame. He simply wanted to share what he saw and experienced in the night sky, through his art. And he does. The paintings show the night as spiritual, alive with mystery. At the end of the exhibit I looked up at the women standing next to me, in front of Van Gogh' masterpiece and final triumph, Starry Night. She and I were both in tears.
Starry Night makes its home at the MoMA and if that were the only thing there to see it would be worth the visit but there are many other artists and works in the permanent collection and wonderful exhibitions as well.
Entrance to the museum is $20. Friday nights from 4:00 to 8:00 p.m. there is no charge.
Starry Night makes its home at the MoMA and if that were the only thing there to see it would be worth the visit but there are many other artists and works in the permanent collection and wonderful exhibitions as well.
Entrance to the museum is $20. Friday nights from 4:00 to 8:00 p.m. there is no charge.
The "A" train and more
I love the subway. I love it most of all because I do not have to drive a car. I am not a very good driver. In fact, the last month that I owned a car, I dented the back fender one week after having it fixed. My brother, who was also my insurance agent told me, "Evie, you need to ride the bus."
I used to make a car payment, pay for car upkeep, gas and insurance. Now I buy an $89 unlimited ride monthly fare. With my subway card and a good pair of shoes I can go anywhere I like. It is the only thing I find less expensive living here.
The New York Subway is old, one of the oldest in the world. For this reason, it may look dingy and used in places, but if you look closely, you will notice that it is remarkable clean. Millions of people use the Subway daily and yet you seldom find trash and the cars are relatively free of graffiti. My sister remarked about the improved state of the subways since her first visits to New York in the early nineties. One of Rudy Giuliani's initiatives against crime involved getting rid of the graffiti. The solution was that the cars never went out with graffiti on them. They are always cleaned before they are put into daily use. This sort of defeats the purpose of those who paint the graffiti.
You will also find a strong police presence in the subways. Even late at night I feel secure riding the rails in part because of the police presence but also because there are so many other riders. There are many parts of town I do not go to so I can't speak for all of the city and I seldom ride the trains after midnight which may also account for my comfort using them.
My true reason for loving the subways though, is the art. At the major stations mosaics grace the tile walls. At Times Square you will find New Year's Eve revelers, around Bryant Park and the New York Public Library are hallways featuring underground labyrinths and poetry. At one stop on Lexington there are giant coffee cups and in Spanish Harlem, jazz musicians. At Delancey Street are rivers of fish and apple trees and at Penn Station are entertainers who appear to have just stepped off the stage at Madison Square Garden. My absolute favorite mosaics though are featured on the walls of the subway that access the Museum of Natural History. Whales swim in the ocean, elephants and other creatures roam the station. The layers of the Earth are featured in the depths of the undermost train walls.
The other art form in the subways are the underground musicians. Whatever your taste, you will hear it, the lone cello or saxophone, jazz, the blues, doo whap, salsa, African drums, bass, country western guitarist, or an Irish tenor all plying their trade entertaining for the cost of a subway fare and a donation. ( Which I always make). This is the Big Apple where few make it and those who are on their way up or down entertain the commuters. The quality is better than you would pay for in most cities across the country. If you ride the train for any length of time through Manhattan you will hear different music each time the car doors open or you may be serenaded right in your car by the next up and coming Grammy winner. You never know.
I used to make a car payment, pay for car upkeep, gas and insurance. Now I buy an $89 unlimited ride monthly fare. With my subway card and a good pair of shoes I can go anywhere I like. It is the only thing I find less expensive living here.
The New York Subway is old, one of the oldest in the world. For this reason, it may look dingy and used in places, but if you look closely, you will notice that it is remarkable clean. Millions of people use the Subway daily and yet you seldom find trash and the cars are relatively free of graffiti. My sister remarked about the improved state of the subways since her first visits to New York in the early nineties. One of Rudy Giuliani's initiatives against crime involved getting rid of the graffiti. The solution was that the cars never went out with graffiti on them. They are always cleaned before they are put into daily use. This sort of defeats the purpose of those who paint the graffiti.
You will also find a strong police presence in the subways. Even late at night I feel secure riding the rails in part because of the police presence but also because there are so many other riders. There are many parts of town I do not go to so I can't speak for all of the city and I seldom ride the trains after midnight which may also account for my comfort using them.
My true reason for loving the subways though, is the art. At the major stations mosaics grace the tile walls. At Times Square you will find New Year's Eve revelers, around Bryant Park and the New York Public Library are hallways featuring underground labyrinths and poetry. At one stop on Lexington there are giant coffee cups and in Spanish Harlem, jazz musicians. At Delancey Street are rivers of fish and apple trees and at Penn Station are entertainers who appear to have just stepped off the stage at Madison Square Garden. My absolute favorite mosaics though are featured on the walls of the subway that access the Museum of Natural History. Whales swim in the ocean, elephants and other creatures roam the station. The layers of the Earth are featured in the depths of the undermost train walls.
The other art form in the subways are the underground musicians. Whatever your taste, you will hear it, the lone cello or saxophone, jazz, the blues, doo whap, salsa, African drums, bass, country western guitarist, or an Irish tenor all plying their trade entertaining for the cost of a subway fare and a donation. ( Which I always make). This is the Big Apple where few make it and those who are on their way up or down entertain the commuters. The quality is better than you would pay for in most cities across the country. If you ride the train for any length of time through Manhattan you will hear different music each time the car doors open or you may be serenaded right in your car by the next up and coming Grammy winner. You never know.
New York, a geography lesson
Just so you know, Manhattan Island, one of the five boroughs which make up New York City, is 13 miles long and 2 1/2 miles wide at its widest point. Eight million people live on this Island, during the night and weekends, but the population swells to 16 million during the weekday. This will help you understand why the real estate here is so expensive and why New York had to grow skyward and underground. Take Rockefeller Center, it is an underground mall. Students in my school could not imagine a one story school building. This is why New Yorkers relish their parks. I never appreciated the park until I moved here. More on parks later.
The city includes four additional Burroughs; Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island. Brooklyn and Queens are located on Long Island. Manhattan is an Island in the Middle of two rivers. The River on the west is called the Hudson and on the east is called the East River. The Harlem River runs between Manhattan and the Bronx. The coast of Brooklyn borders the Atlantic Ocean where you will find Coney Island and Brighten Beach. Each Borough is divided into areas, each area having its own name. Some of those names are acronyms. In Manhattan you have Soho which stands for south of Houston Street, Tribeca which stands for triangle below Canal Street. In Brooklyn, Dumbo stands for Development under the Manhattan Bridge. There are many other names, Greenwich Village named for the original Greenwich village, the East village which is on the East side of Manhattan opposite Greenwich, Chelsea, Harlem, Upper East and West Side, Chinatown, where all the Chinese markets are, Little Italy (which is now completely surrounded by Chinatown and too many more to name.
Manhattan contains a grid of avenues and streets. The avenues run north and south and the streets run east and west. In order to confuse tourists there are also many streets which will run every which a way. For example Broadway which runs diagonally north and south from east to west.
Anyway, check out a map before you visit. Nothing is very far but you do need to be prepared to walk and climb stairs (and there are many stairs to climb) because the best way to get around in New York is the subway and a good pair of walking shoes.
The city includes four additional Burroughs; Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island. Brooklyn and Queens are located on Long Island. Manhattan is an Island in the Middle of two rivers. The River on the west is called the Hudson and on the east is called the East River. The Harlem River runs between Manhattan and the Bronx. The coast of Brooklyn borders the Atlantic Ocean where you will find Coney Island and Brighten Beach. Each Borough is divided into areas, each area having its own name. Some of those names are acronyms. In Manhattan you have Soho which stands for south of Houston Street, Tribeca which stands for triangle below Canal Street. In Brooklyn, Dumbo stands for Development under the Manhattan Bridge. There are many other names, Greenwich Village named for the original Greenwich village, the East village which is on the East side of Manhattan opposite Greenwich, Chelsea, Harlem, Upper East and West Side, Chinatown, where all the Chinese markets are, Little Italy (which is now completely surrounded by Chinatown and too many more to name.
Manhattan contains a grid of avenues and streets. The avenues run north and south and the streets run east and west. In order to confuse tourists there are also many streets which will run every which a way. For example Broadway which runs diagonally north and south from east to west.
Anyway, check out a map before you visit. Nothing is very far but you do need to be prepared to walk and climb stairs (and there are many stairs to climb) because the best way to get around in New York is the subway and a good pair of walking shoes.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
One Magic Evening
There is one guaranteed magic evening in the Big Apple and it is absolutely free but for the price of a subway token. The place is the Brooklyn Promenade which borders the East River. You want to be there one hour before sunset on a clear day. You will watch as the sun descends over the East River and the Manhattan skyline. From this site you can also see the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge. After the sun sets and dark wraps the horizon you watch as the lights of Manhattan twinkle onto the scene. The Empire State Building will don whatever colors fit the occasion, red, white and blue for a patriotic theme, red and gold for Chinese New Year, green for Saint Patrick's Day. And those twinkling lights will outline the most beautiful building in Manhattan, the Chrysler. You might not see many stars in the New York City sky but this view is hardly chopped liver. In fact, I count is as a spiritual hour, celebrating being alive and living in this great city.
Historical Note: This is where Geore Washington's army, trapped by the British, narrowly escaped capture. Fishermen transported the troops during the night, accross the Hudson River to New Jersey. Had this not happened the Revolution would have been over before it began.
Take the subway to Jay Street, Burough Hall in Brooklyn. Walk down Montague Street for four blocks until it dead ends into the Promenade.
Historical Note: This is where Geore Washington's army, trapped by the British, narrowly escaped capture. Fishermen transported the troops during the night, accross the Hudson River to New Jersey. Had this not happened the Revolution would have been over before it began.
Take the subway to Jay Street, Burough Hall in Brooklyn. Walk down Montague Street for four blocks until it dead ends into the Promenade.
New York, New York
First of all, I need to explain how I came to live here in New York City or Brooklyn to be exact. My foremost dream as a child was to travel. While I also dreamed of marriage and family as did most girls of my generation, I wanted that after I explored the world. But the woman did not have the courage of the child and that is a story for another time. At any rate, I found myself at the age of 55 with no job and having never lived outside of the State of Texas, most of that time in East Texas. Not that I made no attempt. When I first looked for a Principal's position (I am an educator), I applied all around the continental U.S.A. and traveled to Pennsylvania and Washington D. C. to interview. But when opportunities arose, my courage failed and I ended up back in East Texas on a journey from one miserable position to another. At any rate, the doors of opportunity in Texas seemed to be closing all around me.
My son, who was living in New York City at the time, encouraged me to live not vicariously through him, but to move to NYC and live with him for one year. At first I simply blew off the idea as too preposterous, too much of an upheaval. Move to New York City! But gradually, I began to be reminded of that girl who stared out the window of her bedroom and planned how she would go to New York, Paris and Rome and not simply to travel but to live in those places. The idea began to take root and before I knew it grew into a full fledged plan. I found myself taking the steps to make the dream a reality. I had a giant apartment sale and let go of years of possessions. In fact I sold everything that would not fit into a 5x5 storage facility. It is humbling to realize how many possessions I collected over the years considering that I had already downsized from a three bedroom townhome to a one bedroom apartment. I sold my car, packed up the cat and left for New York with every intention of staying for one year.
My first inkling that one year in New York would not be enough occurred the second month here, when my son began to talk about leaving New York to teach overseas. I literally began to grieve for all the things I would miss. When he applied to and was accepted into the Peace Corp, I began to grieve all the things I would not have time to do in one year. I wanted to stay in New York City, but that old fear began to creep in. I would have no family here. I would be all by myself. I was afraid to stay, but neither could I leave. I simply was not finished with the Big Apple.
Why am I so enthralled with New York. Well, I love the weather. It is never too hot for a walk which is another thing I like about New York. I walk everywhere. I am in better shape than I have ever been. It actually snows here and when it does it is beautiful. If this past winter was any indication of the cold, give me a New York Winter over a Texas Summer any day. I love the smells of New York, from the bakeries, to flower stands filled with lavender, meat cooking in the Gyro stands, the river and even the subways. I love the sounds of New York. You probably hear five different languages each time to venture out and at least that many different genres of music each time the subway doors open. It is a myth that New Yorkers are unfriendly. The people are friendly and always ready to help. The people in the neighborhood bodegas call me "Texas." When was the last time the people on your street sat out on their front lawns the way New Yorkers sit out on their stoops? The only rude New Yorkers are the cabbies who honk for seemingly no reason other than to impress their riders. A bad meal in New York is a rarity. New Yorkers hold the bar high when it comes to food , spelling a quick end to the restaurant or street vendor which fails to meet it. There is probably no ethnic fare unrepresented in the city. Price is no predictor of quality. Some of the best food is at the Saturday Flea Market in Brooklyn on the corner of Lafayette and Vanderbilt.
You can never run out of free things to do, forget about all the low cost things. (Go to nyc.go for today's date and see what I mean.) Once you learn about off Broadway, even the theater is not beyond your means. Thanks in part to John D. Rockefeller's efforts to bring art to the people, anyone can visit the cities' great museums at affordable prices.
I haven't even touched on the street fairs or the parks. It will take at least another year to describe my New York. This is the story of Evie's great adventure or as my son calls it "My great "Perhaps." My other dream as a child was to write. So I will write about my adventure and kill two birds with one stone.
My son, who was living in New York City at the time, encouraged me to live not vicariously through him, but to move to NYC and live with him for one year. At first I simply blew off the idea as too preposterous, too much of an upheaval. Move to New York City! But gradually, I began to be reminded of that girl who stared out the window of her bedroom and planned how she would go to New York, Paris and Rome and not simply to travel but to live in those places. The idea began to take root and before I knew it grew into a full fledged plan. I found myself taking the steps to make the dream a reality. I had a giant apartment sale and let go of years of possessions. In fact I sold everything that would not fit into a 5x5 storage facility. It is humbling to realize how many possessions I collected over the years considering that I had already downsized from a three bedroom townhome to a one bedroom apartment. I sold my car, packed up the cat and left for New York with every intention of staying for one year.
My first inkling that one year in New York would not be enough occurred the second month here, when my son began to talk about leaving New York to teach overseas. I literally began to grieve for all the things I would miss. When he applied to and was accepted into the Peace Corp, I began to grieve all the things I would not have time to do in one year. I wanted to stay in New York City, but that old fear began to creep in. I would have no family here. I would be all by myself. I was afraid to stay, but neither could I leave. I simply was not finished with the Big Apple.
Why am I so enthralled with New York. Well, I love the weather. It is never too hot for a walk which is another thing I like about New York. I walk everywhere. I am in better shape than I have ever been. It actually snows here and when it does it is beautiful. If this past winter was any indication of the cold, give me a New York Winter over a Texas Summer any day. I love the smells of New York, from the bakeries, to flower stands filled with lavender, meat cooking in the Gyro stands, the river and even the subways. I love the sounds of New York. You probably hear five different languages each time to venture out and at least that many different genres of music each time the subway doors open. It is a myth that New Yorkers are unfriendly. The people are friendly and always ready to help. The people in the neighborhood bodegas call me "Texas." When was the last time the people on your street sat out on their front lawns the way New Yorkers sit out on their stoops? The only rude New Yorkers are the cabbies who honk for seemingly no reason other than to impress their riders. A bad meal in New York is a rarity. New Yorkers hold the bar high when it comes to food , spelling a quick end to the restaurant or street vendor which fails to meet it. There is probably no ethnic fare unrepresented in the city. Price is no predictor of quality. Some of the best food is at the Saturday Flea Market in Brooklyn on the corner of Lafayette and Vanderbilt.
You can never run out of free things to do, forget about all the low cost things. (Go to nyc.go for today's date and see what I mean.) Once you learn about off Broadway, even the theater is not beyond your means. Thanks in part to John D. Rockefeller's efforts to bring art to the people, anyone can visit the cities' great museums at affordable prices.
I haven't even touched on the street fairs or the parks. It will take at least another year to describe my New York. This is the story of Evie's great adventure or as my son calls it "My great "Perhaps." My other dream as a child was to write. So I will write about my adventure and kill two birds with one stone.
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