Whether it's the lack of dual elongated rectangles along the downtown skyline, the invasion of Starbucks on every street corner, or my inevitable transition into adulthood - a lot has changed since the last time I visited New York City.
It had been since the summer of 1996, when I last co-mingled with my roots. Both my parents were born in Brooklyn, my dad having spent his life there prior to moving to South Florida. Throughout my childhood he and I would visit frequently and I have many memories of exploring the city together and getting a feel for why it's the epicenter of American culture. But these trips ceased 11 years ago, and I had been ridiculously overdue for a visit. Especially considering how many friends I have living there, most of who endlessly bombard me with guilt for not coming to visit ever. This notion deepened when my sister Sami had a baby. Even though I saw them in March, I felt compelled to visit little nephew Cody Babar on his home turf. I made the arrangements for a summertime jaunt to The Big Apple, The Great Melting Pot, the City that Never Sleeps or all of the above. I couldn't wait to visit my friends – a lot of whom I haven't seen in years. I couldn't wait to see the sights through the eyes of a well educated adult. But mostly, I couldn't wait to walk around endlessly and absorb what is likely the most energetic place in America.
My plane touched down a good three hours late to La Guardia airport due to severe weather earlier in the day throughout the Northeast. This blew my plan for an afternoon architecture tour around mid-town (thankfully!) so instead I decided to hang out with Sami and baby Cody, who were more than delighted to have me there in Astoria where they live.
After Sami finished up her workday (she works from home) she took me on a brisk walking tour of her neighborhood.
The largest public swimming pool in NYC lives in Astoria Park along the East River and nestled between the Tri-borough and Hell's Gate (love that name) bridges. Sami mentioned that swimming in the pool is a refreshing way of catching Tuberculosis.
Sami, Cody, and the upper Upper East Side – which is being filtered through smoke from a steam pipe explosion a few hours earlier though we didn't know it at the time.
Underneath the Hell's Gate Bridge.
Astoria turned out to be a rather nice area, with row houses affronting the streets on both sides with one neighbor attempting to do up the other in their tiny garden plots abutting the sidewalk. Sami and I had a nice sushi dinner, before returning home to greet her husband.
Cody with his dad – Silas, and puppy Harpo.
The next day, I took the train from Queens to Lower Manhattan where I laid out an intricate architectural walking tour – having inquired of all my friends, co-workers, and local architects as to what I should put on my "MUST SEE" list. Interestingly enough the one thing everyone agreed I MUST SEE was the one thing I definitely did not want to see – what remains of the World Trade Center. I cherish the memory of having visited the WTC in all its glory in both 1993 and 1996. On each occasion, my father and I went to the observation deck on the 110th floor. There was no better way to feel like you were on top of the world, because you were, very literally. And then this sensation was subsequently juxtaposed upon returning to the plaza where you would stand between the two towers and feel utterly insignificant. It's similar to being in the Grand Canyon – overwhelmed by the power of nature. Except the Twin Towers were, of course created using the ingenuity of mankind, as opposed to the slow erosion of sandstone over millions of years.
Having on more than one occasion absorbed the presence of those monumental structures, it was hard to cope with their absence. I guess it always was. But to actually see the space they occupied so empty is all the more unnerving and distressing.
Luckily, I found solace across the street at St. Paul's Chapel – the oldest building in Manhattan and where George Washington prayed after he was inaugurated president.
There I met up with my friend Lauren Birriel who was one of my roommates my senior year of college at FSU. It was particularly moving to sit on a bench facing Ground Zero and recount our memory of having spent September 11th together.
Soon enough we were off on our walking tour, which basically took Broadway up toward Midtown with many, many deviations along the way.
Woolworth Building – beautiful neo-gothic lobby, which we were not allowed into due to their strict NO SIGHTSEEING policy.
Municipal Center – looking back from Brooklyn Bridge entrance.
The oldest bridge in NYC – and the world's first vehicular bridge.
Lauren, basking in Brooklyn Bridge glory.
Me – contemplative…did you know that during the Brooklyn Bridge's construction, traffic to NYC's ports remained uninterrupted?
Back on the island – the Gustavino tile ceilings at the transit station entry beneath the Municipal Building.
Chinatown – Starbucks.
Lauren - beside some crazy Chinese imports.
Chinatown seafood market.
Crabs.
After a visit to the Buddhist Temple, and pitstop for some shrimp dumplings, Lauren and I crossed into SoHo.
After ducking into more hip shoppes than I can recount, we ran into the widely acclaimed Moss Store. Probably the most pretentious store I'd ever been in, it featured employees who wouldn't make eye contact, $300 forks and exquisitely designed furniture and things that no one can afford. Ever. My favorite piece was a loveseat fabricated using nothing but panda bear stuffed animals.
Lauren and I wandered into Greenwich Village and there I experienced NYC's cupcake phenomenon. At my friend Vicki's request we made way to Magnolia Bakery. They were well worth the walk.
A family of Swedes enjoys their cupcakes in the park across the street.
Lauren took me to a Mexican restaurant nearby so that I could meet her boyfriend Rudy, who I found more than suitable for such a delightful person as Lauren.
Shortly thereafter, she returned home and left me to explore Manhattan on my own.
I made a pilgrimage to the Integral Yoga Center in the West Village, where Swami Satchidananda assembled his posse.
And speaking of Indian Spiritual Masters – did you know that there is a Gandhi Memorial in Union Square?
Then I met up with Broadway again, passed the Flatiron Building, and followed it where it met Fifth Avenue.
A man who thought highly of himself – Sen. William Sewell in Madison Square Park. Actually, upon reading Sara Vowell's Assassination Vacation, I learned that the entire park is basically an homage to people associated with the assassination of President Garfield.
Weird tree-like sculpture in Madison Square Park.
Light glistens upon the magnificent Empire State Building.
Favorite fact about the ESB: Before it had a spire, it's top served as a dirigible docking port. They only tried it once.
I like the ESB because unlike its slightly older brother the Chrysler Building just up the street, it doesn't pile on the glitz and glam. It's a simpler expression of art deco form; reserved and elegant.
The main entrance lobby.
From Empire, I walked (or limped rather, my feet were killing me!) to Harold Square and down past Penn Station and Madison Square Garden to Chelsea where I had arranged to meet Jon Autry, a friend, at a Jamaican Bar & Grill. Jon is an incredibly talented musician who recently had some of his songs featured on the This American Life TV Series on Showtime, which is so amazing to me because I am such a big fan of the radio show.
He brought me back to his apartment in Williamsburg and showed me his studio.
Then we went to a bar in Williamsburg which features karaoke on Thursday nights. The bar was great too. I don't quite understand their financial plan, because every time you order a beer , you get a ticket for a free, fresh, brick oven, personal pizza.
Then we flocked back into the city with all our hipster friends, and headed to the Meat Packing District.
Jon did some exquisite name dropping at the door of Hiro Ballroom which is a scene draped in Japanese pastiche. I don't remember much about being there, it was a real frenzy. We ended up eating tacos back in Brooklyn before I passed out on his futon.
It's about this time that I should mention how I became fortunate enough to meet Jon Autry. While I was at the Frank Lloyd Wright School of Architecture, my friend Fred set up a Friendster account for Mr. Wright as sort of part gag/part homage, our architectural hero. He performed a search of people's interest in FLLW amidst the online network. There he found Jon Autry and contacted him. As it turned out, Jon is somewhat of a Wright scholar, and shares an enthusiasm for all things Wright that can only be rivaled by those who would attend the FLLWSA. He and Fred corresponded for months and sometime after we migrated to Wisconsin, Fred invited Jon and his then girlfriend Joan to stay a few days and perform a few songs in the Hillside Theater which was more than a dream come true for FLLW-obsessed Jon. I really enjoyed Jon and Joan, and even though they aren't together anymore I knew upon going to New York for the first time in forever that I would need to make my Frank Lloyd Wright pilgrimage of the trip with him.
The Gugg – FLLW's only New York building is in the process of having its concrete shell refurbished.
But the inside is unbelievably glorious with its iconic art ramp and atrium skylight.
Every nook and cranny possesses a grace and elegance rarely seen elsewhere amidst the angled boxes that liter the rest of the city.
The ramp worked surprising well to display the contemporary art exhibit rounding the atrium, despite the popular criticism of it upstaging the artwork.
Jon and I had fun geeking out with one another over the bathrooms or of the little Wright nuances prevalent throughout the buildings many levels.
Disco Floor was a nice touch too there Mr. Wright. (Only kidding, it was an art installation).
Though I tried to keep him from going, Jon made his way to work and I entered Central Park. I enjoyed seeing the kids playing kickball.
I made my second pilgrimage of the day at Strawberry Fields – the John Lennon Garden for World Peace.
The peace sign made out of strawberries was a nice touch.
The Dakota Building – where Yoko still lives.
The Bethesda Fountain in Central Park complete with guerilla hip-hop street performers.
I had planned on hitting up MoMA from there for their free Friday afternoons, but there was a line around the corner and opted to come back when it wasn't as crowded later in the weekend. Thus a brisk jog around Midtown ensued…
Neo-Gothic St. Patrick's Cathedral.
Post-Modern MetLife Building.
Grand Central Station at rush hour.
Oyster Bar with Gustavino tile ceiling in the GCS basement.
The main terminal constellation ceiling.
The ostentatiously art deco Chrysler Building.
Crystler and Grand Central angel cornice.
Main Reading room in the New York Public Library – fabulous Beaux Arts interior.
After a minor shopping spree at the world's largest Banana Republic on Fifth Avenue, I met my long time friend Vanessa Cohen. She happens to work as a paralegal at a law firm in 30 Rock (where Tina and Alec work) right at Rockafeller Center.
I waited for Vanessa in the Lobby hoping to have a celebrity sighting, but instead I enjoyed the mural that now covers Diego Rivera's all-too-Communist mural masterpiece.
When she came down, I requested a tour of her office on the 40th floor. Sure, it was a pleasure to see Nessie's windowless desk – but what the hell - I really just wanted to scope out the Conference Room view.
Then the two of us headed back to Astoria to meet up with Sami and have a little reunion.
Back in the day – Vanessa, Sami, with Randy Rainbow, and I – forged an impenetrable friendship that lasted years. We would hang out every weekend after acting class at the Hollywood Playhouse. Sami I have known since birth, Randy and I have been friends for 5 years and Vanessa and I have been friends about 12 years. HOWEVER – I haven't seen Vanessa or Randy since 2002 AND because of a rift between Vanessa and Sami - the four of us haven't hung out all together since 1996! Crazy.
Well, it was totally time for a reunion. Randy, Vanessa, and Sami all live in Astoria, so it's kinda ridiculous that they don't hang out more often. And since I was visiting for a limited time only, the notion seemed all the more urgent.
Thus the gang was reunited. We spent Friday night watching our old videos and reminiscing about our similar childhoods – all four of us are Jewish, only children with divorced parents (except Randy's parents who should have been) and had unparalleled talents for giving each other a hard time.
It was magical…
The next day, Sami, Salas, Baby Cody and I headed out for a morning of yoga. It was a freakishly nice day out considering that it was late July in New York City with zero humitiy, moderate tempertures, and a partly cloudy sky.
Silas was more than happy to join me on my adventure to Coney Island for the afternoon. I sure am glad he did because the friends I was supposed to meet there couldn't make it.
Coney Island was packed because it was the day of the Siren Festival, a free concert put on by the Village Voice each year. This year, more people were expected than ever because Coney Island is slated for demolision to build luxury condos, which is really a complete shame considering what a unique place its remained for the better part of a century.
Silas insisted we see the Freak Show, which was good fun, despite having to sit though a juggling act.
My favorite was unquestionably the Fire Eater.
Upon walking around Coney Island, it wasn't hard to see why developers would have their eye on it. Its beachfront with scattered semi-condemned buildings and many MANY easily dismantable carnival rides abounding.
Which, actually, it turns out is the makings for creating a very photogenic environment – especially with a heaving mass of hipsters all over the place.
Of course there was trash too…
But mostly people.
And kitchy splendor.
And fabulous fair fare.
The NY Aquarium – though we didn't go in, I've been told the Walrus's are definitely worth the price of admission.
Furries.
Ok - two questions arise from this image. First of all, how in the world do they all get out of there? Secondly, where are they going to keep these school buses when this lot becomes a condo?
No visit to the famous Boardwalk would be complete without a cracked-out churros vendor. (She gave us about seventeen stale-ass Mexican pastries for three dollars.)
Silas and the parachute drop – that's a churro, not a cigar by the way.
Me and the parachute drop!
And then there was the CYCLONE.
The Cyclone is an 80 year old roller coaster which I have been on before when it was in its late '60's. I remember going on it with my Dad then and being seriously concerned for my safety. You see, (lets see how delicately I can put this) my Dad has a protruding gutline and when we got in the car together and they secured the bar above what should have been our laps, it snapped shut at my father's belly, leaving a gap the size of Manhattan between it and my body. Fear for my life ensued…
I wasn't as worried this time because Silas, though tall, is of trimmer stature.
The sun was setting as we were hoisted to the top of the coaster's highest point, just as the New York Dolls took the stage and began their set.
UNREAL.
More unreal: 1) I didn't loose my camera. 2) Due to the ridiculous amount of people waiting in line, Silas and I were in the last car to get a $4 re-ride! I shoved the camera in my pocket so that I could better enjoy myself not having to worry about it's possible demise.
The New York Dolls – 1970's punk pioneers, play at Siren Fest.
As twilight arrived at the amusement park wasteland soon to be known as the luxury condos formerly known as Coney Island, I couldn't help but be reminded that it was the twilight of an American icon.
Though I haven't eaten a hotdog in something close to eight years, I can't help but feel sad that Nathan's will be forever religated to airports and mall food courts as the original becomes a Pilates Studio or another – dare I say, Satrbucks.
I'm glad that I got to encounter New York's playground one last time, before it falls into our national memory forever.
Silas and I made the hour plus train ride back to Astoria in time enough to meet Sami and her friend Chrstian at a fine eatery that served the best Sushi I have ever had. I was totally exhausted and I thought my feet were going to shoot me for all the torment I had inflicted upon their weary souls (no pun intended…well actually it was.) Little did they know, my feet still had one more day of romping about to endure.
In the morning I packed my bags and kissed the Hoover family farewell. I really wanted them to come to MoMA with me but they had made plans to meet friends at Prospect Park in Brooklyn that day. Either way, I had to leave my stuff in Sami's apartment to retreive later while they were out. Then, Silas and the pup walked me to the train.
And then suddenly I had arrived in Manhattan again. I was to meet my friend Kyle Adams at the Museum of Modern Art, but when she finally arrived there, we both decided that it would be more fun to run around Midtown some more since it was another unbelievable day out.
Kyle at Paley Park off Fifth Ave. on 53rd St. – as per Vicki's recommendation.
Kyle used to be a tourguide at Taliesin in Spring Green. Back in my apprentice days, we used to playfully torment Kyle when she would bring tours through the Hillside Studio. For example, we would all simultaneously put on funny glasses and turn around as though synchronized and then would proceed to oogle the tourists. She would then be forced to explain that we were just doing that for her benefit, the apprentices weren't naturally that creepy. Then later we would laugh about it at the local pub. Good Times.
We discovered this awesomely creepy statue in the modern courtyard across from the Seagrams Building.
It made for a rather indecent frame for the aforementioned Seagram's – Mies Van der Rohe classic.
Pretending not to notice the Colossus of Exposed Pre-natal Anatomy towering above.
Antique window being lifted into the Seagrams building via crane. This was a real nair-biter.
Seagrams and Citicorp.
There was a delightful streetfair along Lexington Ave, where just several days before there had been a crippling explosion. Kyle and I enjoyed falafel pitas and I bought a fair share of I NY t-shirts.
At the 59th Street bridge we boarded the Roosevelt Island Tramway, a funicular across the East River to the weirdestisland in New York.
You may remember the Tramway from scenes in such movies as the '70's version of King Kong, or more recently Spiderman 2.
The funicular – which is an awesome word, right? – was built in the '60's and adds a really classic feel to the experience of hovering above the East River, while enjoying fantastic views of Midtown and of course, the Queensborough Bridge.
Another great suggestion from the Vickster.
View from Roosevelt Island. United Nations Building – check. Chrystler Building – Check. Body floating toward the harbor – check. (Only joking about that last one…)
Kyle and I continued to stroll about the island. I was warned that it has a decrepit, almost Soviet Bloc character to it. It's certainly different than any other place in New York I had visited – with an alarming dearth of homeless people, street vendors, tourists, and liveliness. Its probably where I would live when I decide someday to move to NY.
We took a quick bus ride through the rest of the island and took a gander at the abandoned small pox infirmary and the former mental institution. And then we got aboard the cable car again back to Manhattan.
We walked toward Central Park – where I was to meet up with my friend Tiffany Baker who I was friends with at Forida State. We were only able to hang out for a half hour or so because I needed to rush back to Queens and catch a plane god dammit. Hanging out in CP with Tiffany and Kyle was surreal because they are from two totally separate places from my past, yet there we were all together as if in some great big melting pot. Or something.
It got me to thinking how the whole trip was kind of a Greatest Hits tour – both of the city, but also of friends from my past. In the past few days I had rekindled friendships that had endured from times spanning from my birth (Sami) to Middle School (Randy), High School (Vanessa), College (Lauren & Tiffany), Grad school (Kyle & Jon Autry), and had I seen Lindsey and Steven Gray, there would have been a Texas component too, but they totally sold me out at Coney Island.
I concluded my trip the same way it started – with a celebrity sighting (did I mention that Tony Parker was in front of me in the security line at the San Antonio airport?) Yes – that's really Elvis and Marilyn Monroe. We shared a subway ride together back to Queens.
