Wednesday, June 23, 2010

a breath of fresh...

I know I bitch a lot about the quirky trials and tribulations of living in New York. Reading these blogs, one might assume that I am jaded by the many idiosyncrasies of the myriad idiots aimlessly wandering the streets... but I had a truly New York moment today that brought me back to why I love it here so much.

It was 90+ degrees today and humid as hairy balls trapped in a pair of sweatpants after taking my BOSU class. I was walking to take the F/V, which I never take because it's just a little too far away, a little too dirty, and it NEVER comes. But I took it today. I walk down into the tunnel and of course it is even HOTTER than it is up above; and in typical NYC subway style, it smells AWFUL. It's like some wretched combination of public toilet, hangover vomit, and a touch of your grandmother's awful musky perfume.

And then I hear this sound floating up towards me as I walk down the steps, like a breath of fresh air out of the underground abyss...

I identify the song right away... it's Radiohead "Exit Music (For a Film)," which I am already stoked about because I happen to *love* Radiohead. But I can't quite place the instrument. I take a few steps further down and see a woman playing the accordion. I feel instantly the haunting beauty and underlying melancholy of the song, and it becomes emotional for me - something I don't think I've ever felt when listening to music created on this instrument.

She played with such grace and beauty that even this jaded New Yorker was so touched I had to throw $1 in her case. Looking back, I should have given more. She transformed a mundane, sweaty, Wednesday into something pristine and beautiful. And that, in New York, is priceless.




Saturday, June 5, 2010

Terrifying Tales of the NYC family, Part I

It is a picture of family bonding that would tug at the heartstrings of even the most cynical urbanite: a young father with his 4-year-old son, enjoying the first warm Spring Saturday of the year; Father pretends not to be able to catch up as Son sprints away into the distance; Father eventually 'catches up' to Son, completely out of breath, picks him up, swings him around freely, and spins him into a loving embrace.

Just one problem with this picture: this is happening on 14th St. between 4th & Irving on a Saturday when 14th street also happens to be overrun by Bridge & Tunnel pedestrians, buses and traffic congestion due to seasonal street fairs in the area.

I watch in horror, thinking that at any moment this child will dart out into traffic and Daddy will be picking up his lifeless body and spinning around looking for someone to call 911 rather than spinning him into the prescribed 'loving embrace'. Luckily I am wrong, and Daddy catches up to Son before the inevitable horrors of New York City street and pedestrian traffic have a chance to interfere with his Father/Son bonding time.

But it leads me to wonder... do people not realize the rules of raising children are completely different once you set foot in Manhattan? Don't get me wrong - I give Kudos to anyone who has the balls (and money) to go about raising children here. I have a hard enough time finding a way to get boxes of cat litter into my walk-up apartment building without breaking my back while still carrying my gym bag full of sweaty clothes, mic, shoes, and whatever other crap I've been schlepping with me since I left this morning to teach, in addition to a likely bottle of pinot grigio I just had to pick up on the way home.

But I know my limits; I know what I can handle. I am constantly shocked and appalled by the way parents allow their children to behave (and how they behave themselves) here.

PART I: The Subway

In the Stroller.
The MTA explicitly recommends that parents fold strollers and carry babies or infants in their arms for safety. They go on to say: "Never place a stroller between closing subway car doors." (http://www.mta.info/nyct/safety/) I cannot tell you how many frantic mothers I've seen running with their pram and using it as a veritable *weapon*, not only to catch subway doors (WITH baby in the stroller), but to knock over other riders to get onto the train, and/or blocking riders as they attempt to exit the train. Not only is it irresponsible for a parent to use their child as an offensive weapon, it is dangerous and unfair to put the child (and fellow subway riders) at risk for injury just because you happen to have a weapon-on-wheels, complete with Devil Child in the seat.

Also - why must 13 people move out of the way just because *you* choose to bring your child on the train at rush hour? You didn't take the MTA's recommendation to fold your pram properly and carry the child, so now you are taking up an entire end of the subway car and I am squished in Working William's dirty armpit, who has been wearing the same suit since he left the house at 6:30am but thinks that just because he is taller than me he can get away with grabbing the subway pole directly above my head, while I am left with the stench of whatever he has done in the past 12 hours, including (but not limited to) running to work because he missed his bus, going to the gym at lunch without a shower, eating from the Halal guy on 50th street, and grabbing a quick happy hour beer before heading back to Jersey.

Not fair. I pay the same ridiculous fare to travel as you do. In fact, technically I pay MORE, since I am paying for one mere mortal, but you are paying for two humans and a Stroller from Hell.


Out of the Stroller.
What ever happened to the idea that children should be "seen and not heard"? I know I'm getting older, and perhaps this phrase is becoming dated, but many of the parents I see bringing children on the subway are barely a wink older that I, and some (many, actually) are younger.

I am constantly appalled at the way parents allow their children to:
  • run up and down the train car as if it is their own personal outdoor track
  • hang on the train poles as if they are monkey bars
  • talk loudly to parents, each other, and generally make a spectacle of themselves
  • talk to complete strangers who want nothing to do with children
Half the time I see children on the train, I want to smack them. Actually, I want to smack their parents for giving them no sense of discipline whatsoever.


Unfortunately, I can't do either without risking arrest, so I am resigned to write this blog instead. Dammit.



PART II: STREET TRAFFIC coming soon...