We did everything in NYC today
My Dad dropped into town yesterday. My brother a week ago. Jan is coming tomorrow.
I got a call the day Brian flew in that I had been selected to start training at the FDNY's fire academy on Randall's Island July 1. I did a little dance in walmart, still on the phone. I very rarely shop in walmart; I think theyre a very irresponsible corporate entity, and so my use for them is quite limited. However that day, I was there, and so it gets credit for being a scene in the story.
Brian and I then spent the week goofing off, eating out, staying up late and sleeping in. We saw the beaches of Long Island, watched basketball games in Astoria, contemplated a few subway rides into Brooklyn (but have yet to take the plunge). We ate found-food at Yankee Stadium (okay, not WE, I did) during Joba's fourth start. Even a rare head shaving. The week ended at the house at Putnam Lake, with a yard cleaning/laundry doing bonanza... and how often, really, do bona fide bonanza's actually occur?
The lawn mower, the weedwacker (aka yard tool from hell), the washer and dryer, all got put to work. Even the truck got some attention in the form of an oil change, new serpentine belt, gas filter, and a locking gas cap (to keep the jews out). It was busy work, just to productively burn time before my Dad landed.
We kept it simple the first night: Three block hike, a bite at a local pub, and back home to bed.
It was today that we'd be wearing ourselves out.
Started out benign enough, as most days usually do. OJ. Granola. Conversation about Al Sharpton. The usual. Train ride from the Bronx to Grand Central, always an easy 25 minutes. First stop in Manhattan, the NYC Fire museum.
I used to cringe at the idea of being a 'buff.' But ya-know what, I LIKE what I do. Everyone should be so lucky to be INTO what they do, so maybe I am a little buffy. At this point, Im comfortable with that. Besides, Im a history buff too, and the history of the department, parallels the history of the city. This city's rich in that!
We easily spent two hours checking out everything: scaling ladders, 200 year-old hand pumpers, horse-drawn steam engines, relic ladder trucks, political history, leather helmets, newspaper articles, photos, and I think the museums roped off third floor was the only thing that ended our visit when it did.
We were off! For food. Next stop: McSorelys (and Ive never been able to spell it right) Ale House. Serving probably the same shit for over 150 years! Theres plenty of redeeming qualities about a place serving your choice of "light or dark" and not taking credit cards. The food thats both good AND cheap is nice. The mustard capable of burning your tongue right out of your head is too, all as endearing as is the sawdust on the floor. You certainly wont get a chance to piss in a urinal installed in 1854 too often either. But what really makes the joint for me is the chandelier, a time capsule of humanity and respect, carrying dusty wishbones left by soldiers heading off to fight, leaving their intent to return above the bar, during WWI.
Fat and happy, we opted to depart, but the question I hate the most, "What are we going to do now?" could only be temporarily silenced. The Strand Bookstore was nearby, and though Id never been, I knew two things. First, I wasnt really in the mood to look at books. More importantly, I didnt have any other ideas. it would however, buy enough time to plan for the next time the question would be presented. That answer presented itself in the form of a big orange cup.
We'd raid the Astor Place Mud Truck! Parked across the street from a Starbucks, I chuckle every time I see it. I also make it a point to stop by for a cup if I even THINK I might have some urge to drink coffee before I can get home, because historically, theyve got some really good stuff.
The next suggestion was to walk the Brooklyn Bridge. The three of us were game. So again, we headed underground. This time, plans changed though. We skipped the stop, getting out at... South Ferry!
The Staten Island Ferry is a funny thing. SI, being the only burough requiring 2 methods of commuting into Manhattan, had its fare lifted when it was pointed out that city residents living there were getting the shaft on coming to work. So now, the ferry is free. Its a half hour ride through the harbour, between Governers Island and the Statue of Liberty, your choice of protection from the elements or in the open air, from the southern tip of Manhattan to the other station on the northern end of Staten Island. And I think it might just be the best fucking big city commute anywhere.
Once back in Gotham, we strapped back on our walking-shoes, and hit the pavement once again. We walked through the Southstreet Seaport, now void of its legendary fish market, as well as its historical river pirates and see hags, all being replaced with tourists. Yay.
Finally though, we made it to the Brooklyn Bridge. As nice as it looks from far away, its equally amazing up close. The towers, the anchors, the suspension cables... the construction worker in me LIVES. Todays hike across the span proved that.
We took the 4-train back north. The days journey saw four of the five buroughs making up the city. Queens... todays just not your day... and we made a brief stop to pick up some groceries, but for all intents and purposes, we were all done and were beat enough to throw in the towel.
Im pretty sure now, that theres not much left to do in NYC, so whats next? Jersey?
I got a call the day Brian flew in that I had been selected to start training at the FDNY's fire academy on Randall's Island July 1. I did a little dance in walmart, still on the phone. I very rarely shop in walmart; I think theyre a very irresponsible corporate entity, and so my use for them is quite limited. However that day, I was there, and so it gets credit for being a scene in the story.
Brian and I then spent the week goofing off, eating out, staying up late and sleeping in. We saw the beaches of Long Island, watched basketball games in Astoria, contemplated a few subway rides into Brooklyn (but have yet to take the plunge). We ate found-food at Yankee Stadium (okay, not WE, I did) during Joba's fourth start. Even a rare head shaving. The week ended at the house at Putnam Lake, with a yard cleaning/laundry doing bonanza... and how often, really, do bona fide bonanza's actually occur?
The lawn mower, the weedwacker (aka yard tool from hell), the washer and dryer, all got put to work. Even the truck got some attention in the form of an oil change, new serpentine belt, gas filter, and a locking gas cap (to keep the jews out). It was busy work, just to productively burn time before my Dad landed.
We kept it simple the first night: Three block hike, a bite at a local pub, and back home to bed.
It was today that we'd be wearing ourselves out.
Started out benign enough, as most days usually do. OJ. Granola. Conversation about Al Sharpton. The usual. Train ride from the Bronx to Grand Central, always an easy 25 minutes. First stop in Manhattan, the NYC Fire museum.
I used to cringe at the idea of being a 'buff.' But ya-know what, I LIKE what I do. Everyone should be so lucky to be INTO what they do, so maybe I am a little buffy. At this point, Im comfortable with that. Besides, Im a history buff too, and the history of the department, parallels the history of the city. This city's rich in that!
We easily spent two hours checking out everything: scaling ladders, 200 year-old hand pumpers, horse-drawn steam engines, relic ladder trucks, political history, leather helmets, newspaper articles, photos, and I think the museums roped off third floor was the only thing that ended our visit when it did.
We were off! For food. Next stop: McSorelys (and Ive never been able to spell it right) Ale House. Serving probably the same shit for over 150 years! Theres plenty of redeeming qualities about a place serving your choice of "light or dark" and not taking credit cards. The food thats both good AND cheap is nice. The mustard capable of burning your tongue right out of your head is too, all as endearing as is the sawdust on the floor. You certainly wont get a chance to piss in a urinal installed in 1854 too often either. But what really makes the joint for me is the chandelier, a time capsule of humanity and respect, carrying dusty wishbones left by soldiers heading off to fight, leaving their intent to return above the bar, during WWI.
Fat and happy, we opted to depart, but the question I hate the most, "What are we going to do now?" could only be temporarily silenced. The Strand Bookstore was nearby, and though Id never been, I knew two things. First, I wasnt really in the mood to look at books. More importantly, I didnt have any other ideas. it would however, buy enough time to plan for the next time the question would be presented. That answer presented itself in the form of a big orange cup.
We'd raid the Astor Place Mud Truck! Parked across the street from a Starbucks, I chuckle every time I see it. I also make it a point to stop by for a cup if I even THINK I might have some urge to drink coffee before I can get home, because historically, theyve got some really good stuff.
The next suggestion was to walk the Brooklyn Bridge. The three of us were game. So again, we headed underground. This time, plans changed though. We skipped the stop, getting out at... South Ferry!
The Staten Island Ferry is a funny thing. SI, being the only burough requiring 2 methods of commuting into Manhattan, had its fare lifted when it was pointed out that city residents living there were getting the shaft on coming to work. So now, the ferry is free. Its a half hour ride through the harbour, between Governers Island and the Statue of Liberty, your choice of protection from the elements or in the open air, from the southern tip of Manhattan to the other station on the northern end of Staten Island. And I think it might just be the best fucking big city commute anywhere.
Once back in Gotham, we strapped back on our walking-shoes, and hit the pavement once again. We walked through the Southstreet Seaport, now void of its legendary fish market, as well as its historical river pirates and see hags, all being replaced with tourists. Yay.
Finally though, we made it to the Brooklyn Bridge. As nice as it looks from far away, its equally amazing up close. The towers, the anchors, the suspension cables... the construction worker in me LIVES. Todays hike across the span proved that.
We took the 4-train back north. The days journey saw four of the five buroughs making up the city. Queens... todays just not your day... and we made a brief stop to pick up some groceries, but for all intents and purposes, we were all done and were beat enough to throw in the towel.
Im pretty sure now, that theres not much left to do in NYC, so whats next? Jersey?