Day 135: Take note, manners matter

Great moment at the bank today, and to my surprise, something I’ve not actually seen.

Let’s set the stage: About 4 p.m., I go into the bank to cash some coins. A few tellers down from me is a woman chewing out the lady behind the counter. The customer is impatient, rude, entitled… this, sadly, is old hat. People are rude and demanding.

“This is unbelievable,” she grumps. “You can’t even do your job. Let me talk to a manager.”

“I’m the manager, ma’am,” the teller informs her in a polite, even friendly voice.

Oh, and by the by, everyone was watching.

The customer demands to see the manager’s name tag, then says a few more choice words, and storms out.

And here’s what I hadn’t witnessed before today: Everyone in the bank burst out in applause. The customers, the workers, everyone. A man standing next to me high-fived the manager through the glass.

It did my heart good to see people applauding the defeat of a rude person. Yes, it would have been great if one of us were to have spoken up to the obnoxious customer, but as High Five Guy pointed out, anything anyone would have said would have just made it worse, and the manager was handling it very well on her own.

New Yorkers do get a reputation for being uncaring, and sometimes it’s earned, but more often, that’s not the case. For all the progressive outlooks with which I was raised, the best lessons I learned about letting go of stereotypes were when I lived in the comparatively conservative Deep South. And here’s what I learned: Stupidity, ignorance, kindness, intelligence, respect, manners, et. al know no geographic limits.

Still, I know that to an outsider, New Yorkers are probably perceived as being more similar to the yelling woman. Therefore, on my last night living here, it was good to see more people cheer in the name of good manners and kindness to ones fellow human being.

 

Day 134: Flowers, flowers everywhere

So, let me be honest: I have no desire to write tonight. In fact, expect short and sweet the next few days. Because moving. Instead, I offer you pretty photos from my first trip to the very lovely New York Botanical Gardens. 

 

 

Day 133: A promenade

As my all-too-brief return to my native city winds to a close, I’ve been making a special effort to appreciate New York and all it has to offer. Today, that meant a stroll along the Brooklyn Promenade. 

Now, I’ve got to be honest. I’ve always heard/read about the promenade and the amazing views, how it’s this incredible place to walk, etc. etc. And it was very nice. But I wasn’t blown away. Grant you, I grew up looking at the Manhattan skyline, so it’s not especially new to me. It was also a bit difficult to ignore the busy roadway beneath my feet. 

 

The view I found far more interesting was that of the buildings that ran along the promenade, and of the little parks and gardens. When I came to Brooklyn Bridge Park, I was able to walk along the water without having to look past construction work, so that was more peaceful, especially with the view of the Brooklyn Bridge.

 

Despite the fact that I might have built up the impact of the experience a bit in my head, it was a really lovely walk, and a perfect day for it, weather-wise. The only real disappointment: Why did no one tell me about the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory? It was a perfect ice cream day, so I got a cone from a truck, which is perfectly fine, but this place looked adorable. 

Willpower mildly intact, I refused the urge to get a second cone and returned to Manhattan on foot via the Brooklyn Bridge. I haven’t done that for about 10 years, so it doesn’t fit my 15-year rule, but despite not being a new experience, there’s nothing same-old-same-old about it. 

Day 128: El Museo del Barrio

El Museo del Barrio is dedicated to the preservation of Latin American and Caribbean culture in the United States. Artist Raphael Montanez Ortiz spearheaded the museum in 1974 after noting that many other spaces were insufficient in the art and artifacts of Latin American culture. Montanez is a “destruction artist” known for tearing apart sofas and beating pianos to death in order to expose their guts, so to speak.  

Indeed, I had never heard of any of the artists displayed at El Museo del Barrio. I’m far from an expert on art, but I do enjoy going to museums on a fairly regular basis. This was my first trip here, however. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever heard of El Museo del Barrio until I started researching cultural opportunities in New York. It’s not typically one of the names that comes up in the list of typical museum visits, i.e. The Met, MOMA, Natural History, The Guggenheim, etc. 

Each gallery had works in all different media. A painting was displayed next to a series of photos, alongside a multimedia 3D sculpture composed of found objects. There were so many really interesting pieces of art, but a few in particular stuck out to me:

A series of sculptures by Puerto Rican artist Alejandro Guzman. 

Guzman uses items like wood, chicken wire and paint, combined with heirlooms (his aunt’s jewelry, his grandmother’s handkerchiefs), and other found objects to create strange, bright sculptures, set up to be walked amongst, to be seen from all sides. 

 

“Casito del Campo” and “Kiosko de Loiza,” by John Melendez. These 3D wall displays were dollhouse meets diorama meets shadow box. They’re rough and rustic looking, but with really intricate, though imperfect details: a tiny, crude wooden cross above a bed, a cooler filled with ice and tiny Coca Cola cans, a single red LED bulb beneath a cookstove. It was fascinating to look at all the attention to detail, but still have the feeling it was made to be touched. A lot of the work seemed very kinetic and tactical.

I skipped over a few experimental video installations, mostly because it’s not really my jam, as the kids say. Or else it’s what I think the kids say and I prove once again how completely uncool I am. But we already knew that. 

Skip segue, jumping back in, one thing I took note of was the empty display case with the words “your item/object” here, encouraging residents of the area they call El Barrio (East 96th to East 125th) to lend the museums items from their homes. It’s a call to continue. 

 

Day 112: Conservatory Garden

This is an example of how plans don’t always work out, but sometimes you find something just as good, or even better. 

I’m sure there’s an expression for that, but I can’t recall what it is right now. 

I set out this afternoon to pay a visit to El Museo del Barrio. Unfortunately, I forgot to check the hours. Turns out, the museum is closed on Tuesdays. I’ll go there soon. Stay tuned (I know, you’re all on the edges of your respective seats). 

Nearly across the street, however, at 5th Ave. and 105th Street, I spotted this:

This is the entrance to Conservatory Garden, a lovely, manicured formal garden toward the northeast end of Central Park. I grew up in New York, not far from Central Park, and I spent some time there, but in a somewhat limited area (largely The Great Lawn and the Reservoir). Add in the fact that I lived in other places for 14 years, and the fact that it’s a big ass park, and you can understand how I not only had never been to Conservatory Garden, I’d never heard of it. 

Happening upon the garden though was a lovely surprise. I love spring. Actual spring. Those few, fleeting weeks when the post-winter thaw is over and when we’re not oppressed by the heat of summer yet. There are flowers and things are green. I daresay, friends, I think we are finally in the springtime. 

 

 

Day 111: City Hall fought me

No, no, no, I’m not in any legal trouble. 

So, I’d read about how, if you take the 6 train to the last stop at Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall, and stay on, the train will loop around and you can see this:

So I went. I got on the 5, switched at Union Square, and took the 6 all the way down. And when the car emptied out, I stayed on. I stayed on, and I looked out the door, keeping my eyes peeled, waiting to see the tiled archways.

And do you know what I saw? 

Jack all. 

I saw the walls of the tunnel, that looked like any other subway tunnel walls. Maybe I had to be in the front car or something? Or the light wasn’t right, or there was too much reflection? I have no idea. But the point is, this is supposed to be some charming New York secret, and somehow, it eluded me. 

Technically, this experience is still “new,” because I’ve never actually stayed on the subway as it looped the track before, nor have I ever been the only person in a subway car, but this was not the new experience I was going for. So, that’s disappointing. But I think the effort has to count, don’t you?

Day 109: Springtime in the Park(s)

I had a plan. I was going to take the A train (h/t Duke Ellington) to Sugar Hill, an historic neighborhood in Harlem. And indeed, Mr. Ellington did reside there. The neighborhood took its name during the Harlem Renaissance, named for the “sweet life” experienced by prominent African Americans. And yes, the Sugar Hill Gang (shout out, prom song) is named for the neighborhood. 

Getting there: Kind of a pain (the Upper East Side has its drawbacks). I took the 6 to the E and then to the A, going down to go up, and finally arrived at West 145th Street. First thing I noticed is that Sugar Hill is a lot less bustling and overcrowded seeming than some other neighborhoods. I walked along a street called Convent Avenue, aptly named for the number of churches present. 

I was walking along, looking at the row houses, when I spotted the James Bailey (yes, as in Barnum & Bailey) House a block away on St. Nicholas Place. 

The Romanesque Revival style mansion is a New York City Landmark and was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Apparently, there are also beautiful Tiffany stained glass windows, but I didn’t get to see any of those. 

In St. Nicholas Park, a pre-Easter celebration was taking place. An (incredibly creepy looking) Easter Bunny was present, as was a DJ. For the record, watching little kids who are wearing bunny ears and dancing to Gangnam Style (still love that video) is hilarious. Walking along back toward the train (or so was the plan), I spotted some Gothic looking architecture above me and went to explore. 

As it turns out, I was seeing the campus of the City College of New York, which is beautiful. Honestly, I had no idea. The CUNY college with which I’m most familiar is Hunter, and trust me, that’s nothing to look at. The Neo-Gothic buildings of City College were largely designed by George Browne Post, an architect of the Beaux-Arts tradition who also designed the New York Stock Exchange. To my amusement, he also designed a home in Newport, Rhode Island, called “Chateau-Nooga,” for the president of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. 

After walking around the 35-acre campus, I planned to get the train at 125th, but I felt like walking a little more, so I figured I’d get on a 116th. Then, I happened upon Morningside Park. I took a class at nearby Columbia University when I was in high school, but I’d never actually seen the park, so… why not? 

It was such a gorgeous Spring day, perfect for walking outside. It seems (please, please, please) that the cold is finally gone. I just hope it stays pleasantly warm for a while before it becomes unbearably hot. The park was filled with all these lovely yellow and white daffodils. People who think New York is all just dirty and pushy and rude (which, yes, a lot of it is) need to see places like this. 

Morningside Park ends at 110th Street, and a few blocks east, I came upon Central Park West, and the northern section of Central Park. At that point in time, I’d figured out that I was just going to be walking the rest of the way home (ballpark somewhere between one and two miles). 

I might have mentioned at some point that I have an abominable sense of direction, so I had to be careful to make sure I was heading the right way, but thanks to the iPhone compass, I kept my bearings and found myself taking a detour through North Woods. Honestly, does this look like it’s in the middle of Manhattan?

My only regret is not having the right shoes. And not just because my feet were hurting me (these boots were not made for walking, at least not walking 100 blocks, give or take), but because I really would have liked to have been able to traverse the woods in a more agile fashion.

Past the North Lawn, where the crowds were out, playing baseball, playing soccer, reading, sunning, and eventually toward 5th Avenue, and then home. 

Remember how I started this post by saying I had a plan? I had. I was just going to spend an hour or so in Sugar Hill, see some pretty buildings, check out a new neighborhood. I think my day turned out a lot better than planned. 

 

 When I took on this project, one of my goals was to cultivate a greater sense of openness and adventure. This is sense I definitely feel when I’m away from home, but sometimes, I let myself explore and observe my own backyard. Today was one of those days.

 

Day 100: Something Meta

100 days. 

I wish I had something big and exciting to mark this milestone, but in truth, the newest thing that happened today is that this is the first time I’ve consistently done something, with intent, for 100 days in a row. I’ve never stuck to Weight Watchers, or gone to the gym, or worked on a novel for 100 days in a row. There are things I’ve done for 100 days in a row — talked to my boyfriend, written emails, things like that — but I don’t have to make a point of doing those. So Day 100 of The Something New Project is marked by achieving Day 100 of, well, anything. 

In actuality, there were a number of new things I learned today, but they were all related to networking meetings  I had, as I am currently on the job hunt (joy), and thus it would not be prudent to discuss anything I learned as a result of those meetings. But, you know, just trust me.

I want to look back on what I’ve learned over the past 100 days, where I’ve succeeded, and where I have room for growth.

I feel like this project has encouraged me to both explore and notice the world around me more. I’ve taken the time to stop and observe interesting things. I might have otherwise been inclined to walk past certain subway performers, like Miss Union Square. I’ve also been more inclined to venture into different places, like the White Horse Tavern. 

I’ve also made a point of exploring more cultural opportunities, including seeing a performance by the wonderful Stolen Chair Theatre Company. I’ve had some new culinary adventures. 

Some ventures were more long-term. Going gluten-free for a month was very successful, I’m happy to report. I felt significantly better. I really need to get back to that. It made a big difference in my life. Other ventures, unfortunately, were not as successful. I regret to say that I was not able to follow my plan to give up unhealthy sleeping habits for Lent, and I’d like to apologize to my Catholic friends for that one. If I attempt to follow the terms of Lent again, I will give up something more tangible, like chocolate (perish the thought). I’ve also not been consistent about recording moments of happiness or gratitude. I would like to resume my practice of gratitude. 

Here are a few of my goals, large and small, for the next 100 days of this project:

Spend a day in silence

Try bikram yoga

 

Go somewhere I’ve never been

Bake a lemon meringue pie, from scratch

Get a new job 

As always, I am open to suggestions, feedback, critique, etc. In fact, I implore you to talk to me more. For everyone who is following along, thanks. Thanks a lot. 

 

Day 98: I Heart Free Art

That’s Ibrahim Siddiq’s email address, and since he was passing out cards on the subway, I don’t think he’ll mind my sharing it here. 

I swear, I could have created a whole blog just about interesting performers and artists I encounter around New York. I’m sure someone else has. Hell, the MTA has a site for it. 

I encountered Ibrahim on the 4 train this afternoon, somewhere between Grand Central Station and Union Square, as he performed some of his rhythmic poetry, asking his fellow commuters for not only monetary donations, but gifts of good will — a smile, a handshake, applause — as well. 

“This is New York,” he joked, or maybe didn’t joke, “we’ve forgotten how to be nice to one another.”

He is the artistic director of The Artist Collective, an effort to offer free workshops and open mic nights around New York. I didn’t have a chance to speak to Mr. Saddiq, so I’m not certain whether the Collective is more of an individual effort, but the point is that he is trying to bring a little more poetry into our lives. 

Nothing wrong with that.

 

Day 96: Stolen Chair

New Yorkers: If you are not aware of Stolen Chair Theatre Company, you should be. 

Founded in 2002 by then-recent graduates of Swarthmore College, Stolen Chair is now a three-time Drama Desk nominee. The plays (15 original) have been called “magical,” “mind-bending,” and “rivetingly rendered,” among much additional praise. 

All plays are written by founder Kiran Rikhye and directed by founder Jon Stancato. Full disclosure, part one: Kiran is a high school classmate and Jon has come to be a friend as well.  So I’m not entirely unbiased. 

Tonight, I had the pleasure of seeing my first Stolen Chair production, “Potion: A Play in 3 Cocktails.” They call it a “spoken word opera.” According to the program, Kiran studied the rhythms and meter of works by Mozart, Donizetti and Verdi, among others, and crafted her script based on the various libretti, except instead of singing it, the cast spoke, accompanied by live music from Sean Cronin. 

Set in Charley’s Potion Lounge (Lower East Side bar, People), potions are created to elicit anger, sexiness, and even, perhaps, love. The audience was treated to three separate, specially created potions to coincide with various points in the play. 

The attention to detail was astounding. In order to bring the idea of the spoken word opera to fruition, the cadences of the actors needed to be spot-on. Full disclosure, part two: One of the members of the cast, David Skeist, is one of my oldest and dearest friends. So I will just say that the fact that every person hit the emotions of their characters while maintaining this sort of vocal choreography was very impressive. Though while the ensemble was excellent, I did take particular notice of Molly O’Neill’s emotive popcorn eating technique as she watched her date (Skeist) and a fellow patron (Liz Eckert) engage in a shockingly lengthy makeout session. That’s what I mean by attention to detail — even when the actors were in a state of observation, they were still precise. And yet, the emotions didn’t seem manufactured. 

I have to admit, I’ve seen some pretty unimpressive local theater in my time (sorry, Emerald City Theatre Company), so an effort is required to impress me. Stolen Chair impressed me and then some.

“Potion” runs Sundays through May 18.