Courtesy Is Contagious...Or Not

People say New Yorkers are mean and cold and unfriendly. As much as I would like to say, "No we're not, we're just as nice as the rest of you," I can't. The announcements on the subway have to tell us to be courteous and remind us that the elderly and disabled need a seat more than us able-bodied, sleepy, cranky individuals who are late for work because we overslept. Of course, I'm one of those cranky individuals every morning, extra cranky on the days that a crying baby ruins my extra 20 minutes of sleep on the train.

When I was in DC a few summers ago, a random person on the street actually asked us if we wanted her to take a picture for us. We New Yorkers were shocked to say the least. I work in tourist-infested midtown, and the only feeling I have for them is annoyance. Do you really need to stand in the middle of the street to take a picture JUST as I'm about to walk by? More importantly, you're on 34th street, HOW can you not see the Empire State Building? (I cannot count the number of times someone asked me to point them in the direction of the Empire State Building) I guess all this just proves that we are a rather unfriendly lot. Can you blame us? We're very busy and we live in a very expensive city which means we MUST stay busy if we want to pay rent and get everything done. But that should be no excuse to forget our manners. The English don't forget propriety, and we can definitely learn a few things from them.

I am ranting about all this because I got a taste of the New York rudeness today. My neighbor was locked out of her apartment and her child was inside. She was telling him to unlock and open the door, but being that he is 2 or 3, he didn't understand what was happening. All this was happening as I was waiting for the elevator, so as a good neighbor I asked her if she was locked out and my following question would have been, "Can I do anything to help?" I thought she might need to make a phone call or something. What I got in return for my neighborly niceness was a few rough words screamed at me. A simple "Yes" would've sufficed. I guess I learned my lesson: when in NY, do as the New Yorkers do. Don't love thy neighbor. Courtesy is definitely not contagious. The disembodied MTA voice lied to us.

Empire State of Mind

It's really strange the things we miss seeing when we're away from home. When I was in Calcutta, I didn't miss my room or my neighborhood or anything related to my house. Come to think of it, I didn't really miss NY at all, or so I thought.

I was walking towards the F train from Times Square the other night and the Chrysler Building was in front of me in all its beauty and I realized that I missed seeing it. It is by far one of my favorite buildings in NY; I find it's simple elegance beautiful, like a Chanel suit, not that I own any Chanel suits. My friend thought it was a strange thing to miss when I mentioned it to him, but it makes me feel like I live in a city with beauty in it. I never thought of NY to be a particularly "beautiful" city, but I find the Chrysler Building truly exquisite.



The other thing I really missed was seeing the Brooklyn Bridge. I went to college near it and spent lots of free time at Brooklyn Bridge Park, and like the Chrysler Building, I think it's beautiful, the brick structure, the greenish reflection of the lights on water at night, and the pattern the cables make. Whenever I got stressed, which was quite often during senior year, I would go down to the park and sit on this particular rock, smoke a few cigarettes and listen to the water hitting the rocks while staring at the bridge and Manhattan across the river; all this strangely set my mind at ease. I don't live in Brooklyn anymore, so I hardly get to go to that park and I miss it a lot.



For some reason, seeing the Chrysler Building that night made me realize that I'm back home. It's really strange what triggers feelings, of any sort. I guess I'm back to being in an Empire State of Mind.

Autumn in New York

Since I have so much free time these days (unemployment has it's perks), I've been getting out and trying to enjoy the season through pumpkin picking and trips to Central Park to take pictures and just general long walks to enjoy the mild weather and colors on trees. Keats would've appreciated how much I'm appreciating autumn.

I went to Central Park about a month ago with a friend to take pictures and most of the leaves had only just started changing color so we saw a lot of yellow and green. However, I went there yesterday with another another companion, henceforth referred to as R, and this time, there was definitely more color, along with bare branches. There were lots of reds and golden browns on the trees and the ground was carpeted with dry leaves. R wanted to jump into the leaves; it was probably out of fear that I would start crying that he didn't jump and drag me down. I don't like being too close to grass, trees, anything that contains insects. It might have also been because he felt like making up for the fact that he made me wait half an hour by myself in the cold, but I highly doubt it.

Despite the delay in arrival, we had a great day together. Well, I had a great day. I can't speak for my companion. R and I met by the ice skating rink where he rescued me from someone who was selling maps of the park and trying to make conversation with me. (Thank you, R) We walked around past the Great Lawn to the giant fountain (I'm sure it has a name, but I don't know it) and we stood by the lake for some time and watched the ducks and contemplated boating. Eventually, we walked some more around the lake and, after making another stop on a bridge to take some pictures and admire the scenery, we made our way towards Strawberry Fields so I could pay my respects to John Lennon. I actually did write him a letter, and I left it among some trees near the memorial. Some cleaning person in Central Park is probably having a laugh at the fact that I wrote an emotional, heartfelt letter to a dead Beatle who will never read it, but I think the universe will get my sentiments across to the person it was meant for, whether dead or alive. It actually rained today so my letter may not be more than just a wet piece of paper, in which case it'll disintegrate and ink will be soaked into the ground along with my message, which would mean it's now part of the earth. Or maybe I just am insane.

After walking around the park, we went to eat at this Italian restaurant that had delicious wine and great pasta and tiramisu. We ate slowly and talked and just enjoyed the company before proceeding to a department store all the way down by the World Trade Center site to buy shoes for R, after which we just talked some more over coffee. All-in-all, a day to really put someone into a "New York state of mind." As much as this sounds like a date, I assure you, it wasn't.

I suddenly have all these romanticized thoughts about New York. Ever notice how many characters are from New York? In Entourage, the boys are from NYC, as is the main character in Californication and one of the couples in the new Melrose Place. McDreamy and McSteamy from Grey's Anatomy are both from NY also. It's also funny how when a character has an attitude that is generally not appreciated, he's from NYC. Rick from the classic Casablanca for example. I also watched a movie a few weeks ago called "Saints and Soldiers" where all the soldiers are talking about where they are from and the one who was angering the rest of them turned out to be from NYC. I watched another movie, a German film called "Rosenstrasse" (GREAT movie by the way. I would highly recommend it) where the main character is skeptical about the values her mother tries to instill in her, and of course she is from NY. What is it about New Yorkers that makes them such great characters, not only in tv and movies, but also in books? (The main character in "A Farewell to Arms" is a New Yorker)

Well, while I ponder that, here are some pictures from my day. I wore my new red jacket and boots.