So, this New York thing. Yes, I've been a homebody of late. Yes, I hate to fly. Yes, I tend to need lots of quiet down time, away from people, to restore my introvert's energy stores for pursuing my equal love of socializing and novelty.
All of that came into play when considering the NYC trip with my gal-pals (see previous post 4.18.14). Well, I went and now I'm home. And, baby, I took a big bite of that Big Apple! Success!
We had a great time -- midtown Manhattan condo on the 17th floor of a short-term rental building. The elevator door opened right into our apartment! So Mad Men! (And we were one block off Madison Avenue to boot.) We walked and walked and walked. We skirted the financial district; walked along the Battery at the south tip of Manhattan, waving at the Statue of Liberty; stood in silent awe at the 9-11 Memorial; gawked in Times Square; strolled the Strawberry Fields in Central Park; ate at a sidewalk cafe in Little Italy; had foot massages in Chinatown; and hung out in Washington Square and found the building where "Friends" (from the TV show) supposedly lived in Greenwich Village. Between the three of us we saw 6 plays and had a night of music, 20 feet from the stage where one of my blues faves, Jonny Lang, was playing. We spent an afternoon inside MoMA and stood on The Top of the Rock atop Rockefeller Center. We visited my DIL's best friend at a restaurant where she bartends while auditioning for musical theater parts. She comped us plate after plate of Happy Hour fare. We had a most memorable meal was at a fine and beautiful restaurant across from Carnagie Hall. We felt like Ladies Who Lunch.
We were lost a lot of the time; got our directions switched so often that we were walking in circles or at least back and forth over the same territory more than entirely intended. We eventually mastered the subway, with only one little glitch of not quite knowing local from express when the train to Central Park just kept moving on by all the way to Harlem. Laughter ensued and a kind man stopped to assist us as we hovered over our subway map in the Harlem station trying to figure out how to go back south again.
New York, at least where we were, was clean, safe, and friendly. Super friendly. We didn't hesitate to ask for directions and advice and without fail the locals went out of their way to be helpful (see above). Two cops even tried their best to discern where the deli could be that we were trying to find -- even though we had not a clue of its name or neighborhood. Duh! The cab drivers were the best -- friendly, helpful, and completely safe and sane behind the wheel.
I'm thinking this reputation of NYC being so badass is largely overblown.
As for my own personal journey on this trip: By Day 2, I was out on the street, in the flow of the crowd, walking against the light, with confidence and purpose, briskly moving along as if…as if… I was back in Chicago, where I lived for 7 years from 1973-1980. Back feeling a part of something huge and alive. Loving the diversity, the verve, the electricity of differing people, languages, music, cuisine. I didn't feel overwhelmed or alien or alone or afraid. I felt at home.
That said, the noise, the long lines to do touristy things, the constant tangle of traffic and people did occasionally wear thin. I longed for quiet and dark. My bedroom was bathed in light all night long from the windows of office buildings on either side and and behind our building. The horns and sirens never, ever stopped. Still….
Being back now to my bucolic neighborhood in my small town (only 100,000 pop.) I find myself conjuring images of scenes from NY. I see myself there, with my friends who were able, fun, and easy companions, and I realize I had blown the whole thing out of proportion. My head was hell-bent on trying to keep me down on the farm. My heart said….You go, girl! And I did.
At least, that's the view from here…. ©
Nothing like the big city! You describe it perfectly...its go, go, go with every convenience at your fingertips. When its time to go home and be quiet that is just as appealing.
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