Category: NYC

Summer in New York City

Zipping along 5th Avenue in NYC

Yesterday was my last day on the job. The babysitting job that is. Gorgeous is a teacher and she’s finished for the year. To celebrate we took a ride into NYC to shop at Bergdorf-Goodman on 5th Avenue. Manhattan is always a treat. Something or other is happening at every turn so you just never know what kind of adventure you might have on a visit.

Gorgeous, with Mushy in her stroller, my sister and I enjoyed a lovely day. Window shopping, real shopping, browsing, people watching, eating, laughing, and being stuck in the usual traffic was all fun.

 Central Park

Rats near the Plaza Hotel

Watching tourists on a bus at 57th Street and 6th Avenue
while we had dinner outside

Do you know what they sell at Bergdorf’s? All kinds of high end designer duds. Name your shoe designer, they have it. You want Christian Louboutin? Got it. Manolo Blahnik? Yup. Dior, Chanel, any others? Yessirree. Can you say “butterrr”? Uh huh. Say it the NY way-Buttttaaaaa. Can you recall “Sex and the City”? Yeah.

This time only one of us bit. Last time we all bit and hard. But let me tell you, there’s nothing like putting on a shoe that feels like butter. This is going to be an annual thing, I can tell! It was too much fun to skip.
What a way to teach the little one about retail therapy, right? At least there were sales.

To top it all off, today is the third wedding anniversary of Son#1 and Gorgeous. May they have many years of wedded bliss ahead, with health, happiness and love.

My Pop always liked to sing us the appropriate Frank Sinatra song at various events so here’s his favorite at such times: The Best is Yet to Come.

He Was Found and is No More

Here in New York, as I believe in most of our country, we can breathe a deep sigh of relief and feel a small sense of justice that The perpetrator of the events of September 11, 2001 has met his fate at the hands of US Navy Seals and Special Ops last night.

“We will not tire. We will not falter. We will not fail” were the words of former President George W. Bush ten years ago when he vowed that Osama bin Laden would be found. And so he has.

It is somewhat difficult remembering those days, but remember we must. Last night there was celebration in NYC, but this time it was because a murderer was found. Unlike after September 11 when cheering hordes broke out in certain communities to celebrate the attacks of the World Trade Center and 3000 deaths in NYC.

I’m sure this is only the beginning and only this chapter has come to an end.

I Marched.. Now Back to Monday

On Sunday I had my fun day on New York City’s 5th Avenue marching in the parade. This dress is from the Greek nomads known as the Sarakatsani. I like this costume because it’s very different than many others, and there are plenty of layers to ward off some of the cold.

And man, was it cold!  The Greek Independence Day Parade saw sunny, but cold and windy weather as the backdrop. Painfully cold! As our group waited to step off 64th Street to march we had to endure an hour of side street winds. The little kids were so cold their teeth were chattering, their bodies were shivering and every time a strong wind blew they screamed. So did the adults. Thankfully the sun was shining on the avenue. Marching was ten times better than standing in one place waiting.

The Evones marched in formation, tall and strong, at the start of the parade. The National Guards of Greece are amazing to see in Athens when they perform the changing of the guards, but to see them out of their element here in NYC was great. I was able to watch what I could of them because soon after that our group had to line up and be ready to go.
I was lucky to get a couple of pictures at the start and at the end of marching. My fingers were stiff from the cold and I could barely move them to hold the camera and push the button. The parade began at the Pierre Hotel on 62nd Street and extended to 80th Street, near the Metropolitan Museum of Art where we stopped to take a group photo. It was a nice walk at a good pace so it really didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. If it wasn’t so windy the day would have been perfect, but I was glad to march again.
And now, it’s back to Monday.

Photo for Friday on Saturday, Again

Snowing on 72nd Street 

Yes, I know I missed Friday. So, okay, it’s Saturday and I’m posting Friday’s photo that I didn’t even take this Friday. I can’t even remember what day this was, but it was snowing and I had to be in Manhattan. Maybe it was last Friday. I didn’t have a chance to post it. By the time I was ready to do so it was too late because we got hit with another snowstorm and this was old news, sort of. At 10 A.M. in NYC, this was just the beginning of it.

A few years ago I made plans to visit my sister in the city to look at apartments with her. It was a wintry day, cold and cloudy with a flurry of snow in the forecast for the late afternoon. I hopped on the Long Island Railroad, having parked my car in the lot at the train station near my house. A 40 minute ride and I would be in Manhattan. No problem. We were going to look at a few places, have lunch and I’d go home. Done.

Only minutes into the ride the snow starts falling. It’s only 10 A.M. and I was thinking to myself “Wasn’t this supposed to be later in the day?” If you don’t know the L.I.R.R., a little snow could shut down the whole system. Ugh. Fifteen minutes in, the announcement I could barely make out said the train would be delayed. Oh great. I called my sister to tell her the news so she could re-arrange the appointment. The best, most relaxed trip into Manhattan from mid-Nassau County Long Island and a little snow wipes out the system. Just think about it. Do you have any idea how many people ride the railroad as their daily commute? Some days you love it, some days you hate it.

The trip was an hour late getting into Pennsylvania Station and so was our appointment. Everything worked out fine, except we trudged around in the snow that was accumulating inches by the minute. By lunch there was four inches on the ground and more falling. After we were done I hailed a cab back to the train station for my trip home. When I arrived I found my car under seven inches of snow! Of course I didn’t listen to my father who used to have us keep a shovel in the trunk. All I had was a magazine to push all that snow off my windshield. Not fun.

A photograph of my decimated magazine pushing snow off the car would have been fun for the blog, if I had one then. Next time.

Photo for Friday and Sept. 11

On Fridays I like to post a photo on the blog.  Something you might like to see me working on or something to laugh about.  I had planned to post a picture of the watercolor I did on that beach day this week.  Then I thought to post the new painting I started yesterday when I realized that tomorrow is the ninth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on our city.

I hunted through my photographs, mind you that was not an easy task since most of my photos are NOT in books.  I know, bad girl.  Anyway, I took this photo of the twin towers of the World Trade Center during the summer of 1990.  Our boys were young and my husband and I decided to visit lower Manhattan for the day.  We took a Skyline Tour on a boat around the city.  It was a beautiful sunny day and I remember lending other tourists my sunscreen.

How can we ignore what happened in our city?  Now that I’m blogging I could not ignore the date.  The pain is still there, just under the surface.  A news article, a documentary on television, and I’m right there again.  The sadness, the shock, the lost people, right back in the moment.

Nine years ago tomorrow.  September 11, 2001 I was at home on Long Island getting ready for my day. I had an appointment, my father was in the hospital, the sons were at college and freshman year of high school, The Mr. at work, my mom also, and my sister was in Manhattan.  Son#1 called to say something is happening, he heard it on the Howard Stern radio show and thought it was a joke.  I turned on my TV and watched the towers being hit in a matter of minutes.  I told Son #1 that this is a terrorist attack on New York City, maybe the whole country.

Frantically I phoned my sister and she answered her cell phone just as she was driving out of the city over the Triborough Bridge to Queens.  Later that day all access to and from Manhattan would be shut down.  Thankful she was safe I went about my day, to my appointment and the hospital.  Cell phones were the only means of communication until later that day.

On the car radio I heard the reporters say one tower was collapsing.  I switched the radio off.  I switched it back on.  And the second tower went down.

Three thousand regular people lost their lives for no good reason that day.  3000.  Regular people going to work, or school.  Regular every day people became murder victims and other regular every day people became heroes.  People just working.  3000 regular people.  Buildings, offices, homes, churches, schools, museums, restaurants, regular every day people living in that densely packed city.

The people who piloted those planes into office buildings believe that anyone not of their religion is an infidel and must be conquered.  Say what you want, but that’s the truth of it.  Greeks know it, the Armenians and Assyrians know it, and others do too.  It’s not our wealth, prosperity, or life style.  It’s because other religions are beneath theirs.  Only theirs is the true faith.  Others are the dirty infidel dogs.  This is nothing new and has been going on for centuries.  Their religion says they must conquer and bring down the infidel.

Fight or flight set in after the shock of such an event.  In the moment of that quick, sharp inhale of breath the mind is set at a tilt, but thankful knowing my family was safe.  How? Why? Who?  In the nine years since the attacks sad things happened here, but happy things happened too.  As time passed the distance grew between the events allowing life to continue to go on.

As I prepared my photo for Friday there was no way I could ignore the date.

M.I.A in Manhattan

Yes, I know.  I was M.I.A on Monday.  Missing In Action.  Actually I was in action, in movement, on the road.  This time my sister’s back went out and as she was unable to drive her car to get back to her apartment in New York City,  I drove her there on Monday.  So, it sort of was and sort of wasn’t an adventure.

Every time I go to Manhattan I call it an adventure.  It ‘s no big deal to go there, I just make it seem like that.  I make believe I’m doing some big thing, but I’m really not.  I’m used to the city.  I worked there as a paste-up artist years ago downtown in the 20’s and 5th Avenue.

When we were kids my mother took us into the city plenty of times. She grew up in Manhattan on Columbus Avenue on the West Side.  We lived just across the Queens Borough Bridge in Astoria and Manhattan was a bus ride over the bridge for us.  Our mom didn’t want us to be country bumpkins and not know how to navigate the city.  We had to dress well to visit, or to shop, or to go to the theater.  No one was wearing dungarees to Manhattan in the 1960’s!  Dungarees, aka jeans, were for weekend wear at home with comfy shoes and a sweater. 

Now when we go to the city my mom always remarks on how everyone in the city is dressed like a slob! Here and there you see some high society people, but even they’re not dressed to the nines.  What is everyone doing with their expensive designer clothes and shoes?  Most times the fancy people are dressed in rags and some regular schmoes are wearing Chanel on the street!  East side, west side, doesn’t matter.  Even on 5th Avenue or Madison Avenue, no one is really dressed like my mom was used to doing.  That time is over!

So anyway, I drove my sister to the West Side for her appointment, which took three hours.  But he’s a great chiropractor, so we didn’t care how long it took.  When we were done I dropped her off at her building and drove around for a half hour to find a place to park my Mountaineer.  Yeah, don’t worry.  Everyone in Manhattan is driving an S.U.V!  Why?  Who knows?  More trucks than Audis, BMW’s or Mercedes on the East side.  Park a truck in a garage and you have to pay extra!  I had to find street parking.

I found a spot, noted where I parked and walked a couple of blocks back to the apartment building.  The air was crisp, the sun high and warm, and I had an overall good feeling.  A free kind of feeling.  No agenda, nothing else to do, just a wonderful walk alone.  Head and eyes up and alert, but comfortable.

That’s a good kind of adventure for me.

A NYC Adventure or Can’t I Just Park My Car And Go?

I hope everyone enjoyed their festivities during this Independence Day holiday.  Of course I had an adventure in NYC once again and I thought you might like to hear about it. 

As you know, my sister lives in Manhattan and it gives me the push to go there.  I’m such a wuss when it comes to doing things out of my element.  Not that the city is a new thing to me.  I used to work in the city years ago doing paste-up/layout on the boards in an advertising agency. 

Lately I’m comfortable in my day to day stuff around here, that and, I’m not the greatest traveler.  Not that going to the city is traveling, but I’m such a scaredy-cat when it comes to getting around anywhere.  When I worked there I used to travel on the Long Island Railroad with my father.  He working there too so we’d go in together and then go our own way once we arrived.  Sometimes we’d meet up on the street and walk to the railroad together.  Other times we’d meet on the train, and other times I’d go home alone.  But every time I’d get on a train I needed to ask another traveler, “Is this the train to Hempstead?” like a jerk.  Oh brother!

Anyway, I met my sister this week to attend a concert at Radio City Music Hall.  I drove my car in instead of using the railroad or the subway.  She lives on the east side of Manhattan where there’s no subway service yet.  Driving makes it easy and I found street parking pretty quickly. 

Soon after I pull into this roomy parking spot I notice a woman at the passenger side of the car trying to open the door to my back seat!  I’m thinking Who is this?  When she can’t get in my car she throws her purse on the trunk and leans her whole body on the trunk too. 

Now she’s laying on my car while it’s still running!  I hadn’t turned the engine off yet.  I was in the middle of calling my sister on my cell phone to say I found a spot and I’d be at her apartment soon, but now this woman is on my car!  She was in shock, but manages to tell me this is my next blog post!  Well light bulb moment for me, I whip out my camera and take pictures!

After long minutes of revving my engine, beeping the horn, making the alarm go off, and she’s still sitting on my car, I decide to get out.  How long could I sit there?  Clearly this woman is a homeless whacko.  So I get out of the car and ask her why she’s laying on it. She said she’s waiting for someone, so I tell her go wait somewhere else.  She started getting angry and yelling at me. A psycho-nut case for sure, practically undressed in an unbuttoned blouse and messy appearance. I counter that I’m going to call the police and ask guys, who are standing in an apartment doorway, to dial 911.

My phone is another area code, what good will it do me in the city?  The men just stare at me and the crazy lady with their faces all agog. The whacko woman starts screaming that if I call 911 she’ll tell the police that I threatened her life! 

And then she begins to hammer my car with her fists banging the trunk and the fender!  Ok, I decide I’m done with her.  I tell her “Oh yeah?  Go ahead.  Bang on the car some more because now I’m going to take your picture!  Go and bang away! Yeah! Good! Keep it up!” 

As I walked away from her and my car I saw her stop, take her bag and walk across the street to lay on some other car.  Wonderful.  Thanks alot NYC.  Do I need this stuff?