Dream Like New York

The First Step... photo by JAS

“What ever happened to those childhood years?/When we thought we could fly/We got to keep those dreams alive.” -Tyrone Wells

The past few weeks have been an incredible reminder of the power of dreams and the miracles that come from keeping dreams alive – no matter how impossible they seem.  Some people might call it luck, but it’s reinforced my belief in the idea that you get back exactly what you put out into the world.

But let me explain…

My rockstar fantasy has been the cornerstone of  a lot of my blogging and teaching.  I first talked about it last year with my Information Literacy class, who responded more than favorably, and fed my dream.  I knew then that becoming a rockstar was going to involve a lot more than simply dreaming optimistically, and, at the time, I didn’t have the time or the inclination to begin the process of learning to play the guitar – but the dream stayed alive.

Earlier this summer I went to Chicago to visit J. and while chatting with her downstairs neighbor [who is a professional musician and was looking into starting an online guitar teaching business], I jokingly told him about my rockstar fantasy, and then played the opening lines of “Rock You Like a Hurricane” for him on my iPhone and said, “I don’t care about music theory, or even really about becoming a great musician, I just want to play that solo.”  He laughed a bit, and then nodded and said, “I’ll have to think about how to do that, but I think it might be possible.  You are; however, going to need a guitar.”  I laughed and said I’d work on it, but that money was too tight for me to be spending even a minimal amount on such a luxury item.

But I kept the idea in the back of my mind, and knew that when the time was right, it would all work out – because it always does!

In the meantime, I was looking forward to the August release of a new album from Dream Theater, my all-time favorite band.  I mention this because when talking about my rockstar fantasy I always get laughs and nods when I say that I envision myself playing on stage with guitar heroes like John Petrucci [the lead guitarist for Dream Theater, and the player who, according to internet lore, can play "four million beats per second" on his guitar]. Those in the know immediately understand where I’m coming from – and how completely insane my idea is.

In addition to the new album, DT had scheduled a tour and a few weeks before the album’s release, one of my students informed me that the band would be playing on October 3 at the Royal Oak Music Theater.  I sat and debated whether or not I should buy a ticket – for about 60 seconds – and then got online and purchased it.  By the time the concert date rolled around, not only was I excited, so was everyone else around me [or at least amused enough to support my excitement].

Dream Theater’s live performance was amazing, and I loved every minute of it!  I returned to the classroom full of excitement and tales to tell about the concert, and my students generously shared their own transformative concert moments.  I was pumped and ready to play the guitar, again!  However, the lack of an instrument was still my biggest obstacle.

I wasn’t worried about it, but I felt a little sad that, again, my rockstar fantasy wouldn’t begin to come true.

Two days later, a student brought her electric guitar to school and offered to loan it to me  on the condition that she could be the bass player in my band once I learned to play.  I was overwhelmed by the incredible generosity and the fact that she believed I actually could not only learn to play, but also form a band once I did. As I assured her that she would absolutely be the bass player, students around the room began piping up about what they wanted to play.

I strapped on the guitar, and found myself suddenly leading a band [named "Flaming Salad," don't ask...] that currently consists of a lead guitarist [who needs to learn to play], a bassist [who already knows what she's doing], a wanna-learn-to-play-keyboardist, a tambourine player, a triangle player, and five drummers.

We’re going to be stars.

Later, when I posted the picture of me and the guitar on my Facebook page [with the title "One the Road to Rockstardom: 1. Learn to hold the guitar. 2. Learn to play it"], students chimed in and told me I looked like a “super bad ass” and that they knew where I could find the online resources that would teach me to play.  The student who lent me the guitar told me that she thought it shouldn’t be any problem to learn to hold and play the guitar, rip on solos, and then, contact Petrucci and ask to play with him – on stage.

No problem whatsoever.

As the conversation continued, more students weighed in and they began introducing themselves to one another and asking each other questions.  All of a sudden we had a community of music loving people discussing guitars, finger exercises, guitar heroes and how to best teach me to play.  Since that day, students have offered me all kinds of tips, tricks and suggestions, and one accomplished musician has even brought in his own guitar and ukelele and performed for our class!

I still don’t have any illusions about actually becoming a rockstar [mainly because I am just now realizing the horrible toll that playing electric guitar strings takes on one's fingers.  It's painful and not pretty at all], but the process of dreaming out loud has created new ways for people to connect with one another and talk about their dreams!

In the end, I think that keeping the dream alive is what matters the most.

And as Tyrone Wells sings, “I only strive to stay awake/But the child inside me/Dares to believe I still can fly/Can’t let those dreams just die.”

So, if anyone’s got Petrucci’s number, I think I’m just bold and crazy enough to make the call.

Just dreamin’…again.

“Dream Like New York” by Tyrone Wells

Saudade Vem

9/11 Lights - photo by DMT

I’ve been feeling saudade lately.

A few years ago, while attempting to make sense of the emotions I was experiencing after a devastating loss, D. introduced me to this 13th century Portuguese term, which describes a longing or yearning for something from the past that no longer exists in the present.

One definition of saudade is a “vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist,” and another, stronger definition, is “the love that remains.”  It is a kind of melancholy that leaves one longing for what used to be, but also encompasses a “paradoxical joy derived from acceptance of fate and the hope of recovering or substituting what is lost by something that will either fill in the void or provide consolation.”

The feelings brought about by saudade connect both the past and the future to the present, and are not only used to describe the feeling in relationship to people, but also to places [like one's homeland] and traditions or “the old ways.”  It recognizes that what has happened, can’t be changed – only remembered.

On September 11, 2001, so much was lost by so many that the pain of loss still permeates the fabric of New York City.  It’s not that people haven’t moved forward with their lives, they have, and the evidence of the strength and resilience of New Yorkers rises from every corner, but saudade sneaks through the cracks.

I wasn’t in New York City on 9/11, nor did I lose anyone close to me in the attacks, but the account that D. wrote for me a few years ago [The Rising: 9/11] helped me begin to understand the depth of pain that he, and other New Yorkers, felt as their city was attacked.  The first time I read D.’s account, I remember sitting in front of my computer, openly sobbing. As I read, I felt waves of anger, fear, despair, and pain wash over me, and I wondered how in the world D., and his fellow New Yorkers, had coped with all of this up close and personal.

As I read on, I realized that they dealt with it by being kind to one another, by finding commonalities, and by doing whatever they could to help.  As D. writes, “…people actually looked at each other in the streets and subways. We made eye contact and nodded to each other. There was a feeling that we were all together in the suffering and anger and fear.”  The tragedy that ripped the city apart brought New Yorkers closer together – because they remembered.

Saudade.

This summer, while in New York, the emotions I felt while reading D.’s account came rushing back when he and I were out touring the Financial District.  We had just rounded the corner in front of the World Trade Center when two guys selling commemorative souvenir photo-booklets shoved them in front of us and asked if we’d like to buy one.  Without looking at either man, D. muttered a terse, “No” and kept walking.  Not being used to this daily profit-driven reminder, I was outraged.

I remembered D.’s vivid descriptions, saw the pain these “souvenirs” caused my friend, and I wanted to rip those books out of the hands of those selling them and ask them if they’d stopped to consider how much pain they were causing by hawking their goods. If I’d thought it would have done any good, I probably would have, but I didn’t want to draw attention to something D. had obviously found a way to endure, so I shut my mouth and silently hoped that the warehouse containing the remaining “memorabilia” would burn down while all of the sellers were home for the night – out of harm’s way.

And yet, I also realized that these “sales people” are also a sign of saudade.  New York City experienced a devastating tragedy, mourned the losses, and began to rebuild.  The souvenir sellers make their money by selling memories of the past – albeit not ones that anyone wants to return to – in order to ensure that no one ever forgets what used to be.  I’m not saying they do it for sentimental reasons or because they love New York, I’m saying that they remain in business because people buy the booklets, and those who buy them remember.

And it’s those who remember who are making a difference – both in big and small ways.

There are many people who remember 9/11 and are committed to helping prevent an attack like this from ever happening again.  Many of those people [such as the 9/11 widows who started Beyond the 11th] have become involved in projects designed to put an end to that which causes people to believe that attacks like these are a solution to the problems of poverty, oppression, illiteracy, and religious intolerance.  Only by remembering the past and working toward change in the present can the future be altered.

What does this have to do with saudade?

Saudade is the longing for what has been, the knowledge that it can never be again, and the yearning for what has yet to be.

As the world commemorates the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, I think saudade is a useful term as to describe the feelings many of us are struggling with as we try to make sense of all that was lost on that terrible day, the uncertainty we live with in the present, and the world we hope to create for the future.

May peace – and saudade - be with us all.

Drop Me Off in Harlem

42nd Street & Madison Ave.- Photo by MAG

One Year to Move Soundtrack

What happens when you turn a woman, who marches to the beat of her own drummer, loose in New York City? You get a week full of surprise and adventure, of course!

The first few hours I was in the city, I attempted to navigate it on my own – and got lost. 

How, you ask? 

Well, it was a collision of various factors, the main one being my stubborn desire to do things “my own big self.”  However, as usual, the screw-ups led to some amazing discoveries that couldn’t possibly have happened had I colored inside the lines – or followed directions.

When I arrived at Port Authority [much earlier than anticipated],  D. was still in class, so he texted me and told me to hang out around 42nd St. for a bit, and when his class let out, he’d come meet me and help me find my hotel. 

42nd Street was bustling with activity at 1:00pm on a Saturday, and as I tried to navigate around all of the tourists [who were slowly walking the sidewalks] with my suitcase, I quickly adopted the New Yorker walk – fast and purposeful.

It was wonderful to be in a place that was so full of activity, so I explored for a few blocks, looking for a place to sit down and have a cup of coffee and wait, but every establishment seemed to be full of people enjoying a leisurely break from whatever they were doing, and who seemed to have no intention of vacating their tables [I wouldn't have wanted to either!].  As I scanned a third Starbucks, I suddenly got the bright idea to find my hotel myself and drop off my bag at the desk.

I thought I could do this quickly and efficiently, and be back on 42nd by the time D. got out of class.

Brilliant idea, right?  Ah yes, the best laid plans…

I pulled up my NYC Subway map, located 113th Street, and saw that the C Train would take me right to 110th where I could walk three blocks to the hotel.  I patted myself on the back for being so resourceful, and headed down into the subway station to buy a Metro Card.  I did this without incident, and hopped right on the C Train at 42nd Street.

This was where the real adventure began.

Why I thought my hotel was on 113th St. is the first mystery.  The address for the hotel was 113 Jane Street, and somehow, in my mind, that translated to an address on 113th.  Thinking back, I still can’t figure out why I thought that.  It might have been because the streets in Michigan are “Mile” Streets [8 Mile, 9 Mile, etc.], but that still doesn’t account for the fact that the building number isn’t the street number.  In the end, all I can do is chalk it up to the excitement of finally being in New York.

Once on the C Train, the driver made an announcement that I couldn’t quite hear.  It turned out that on weekends, the C Train goes express between 59th St. and 125th St.  You got it – no stopping.  Once I understood, I shrugged and thought, “Oh well, so I have to walk thirteen blocks instead of three. No biggie.”  Plus, it was kind of nice to sit back and relax.

When I arrived at 125th, I got off the train, hauled my bag up the stairs, and headed out to find my hotel.  I must have looked like I knew what I was doing because a few people stopped me and asked for directions.  I laughed and said I had no idea where they needed to go because I’d just arrived in the city myself!

“

Nine West Outlet at 125th and St. Nicholas [photo by MAG

As I walked south on St. Nicholas, I came across the Nine West Outlet store, and just as I stopped to take a photo, D. texted me and asked where I was.  I texted back, “125th St. and St. Nicholas.”  His response was, “WTF?”  I told him what my plan had been, and he asked why I hadn’t used the directions he’d sent me for getting to the hotel.  I texted back that I couldn’t remember where I’d saved them in my phone.

He told me to return to 125th and hop on the train towards downtown, so I did.  The only problem was that I still had it in my mind that my hotel was close by, so I got off the train at 110th St.

Don’t ask.  I do not know why.

By now, it was raining steadily and I was sweating like crazy from having walked up and down the subway stairs lugging my suitcase.  When D. texted and asked where I was, I told him “110th and Cathedral.” He replied, “Oh good! Keep coming downtown to 34th!”  But I had already flagged down a cab and decided that it would be okay to pay for a driver to take me the remaining few blocks to my hotel.

In the cab, I gave the driver the address of the hotel, and he said, “That’s over on the south west side of town, ma’am.”  To which I replied [as I consulted the map I'd picked up at the airport], “Oh no you don’t, according to my map it should be about three blocks from here!” The driver was a very kind and patient person who knew stubborn when he saw it, so he smiled and told me to direct him – and I tried.

Meanwhile, D. and I were texting back and forth about where to meet.  Finally, D. said, “Tell the driver to take you to 21st and 7th.”  So, I stopped being stubborn, gave the driver the streets and let him do his job.

While driving, he turned slightly and asked me if I was from Alaska.  I was confused, and replied, “No, why do you ask?”  He replied, “Well, you said you’re very hot, you’ve rolled down the window, and now you’ve got your head sticking out in the rain. I figured you must be from somewhere very cold.”  I laughed, and we began a conversation that lasted the entire 20-minute cab ride.  His name was Alpha, and he said he was from Guinea.  I asked what he did there before he came to New York, and he told me he’d been an economist, but that he’d given it up to find a better life in the U.S.  He asked me what I did for a living, and I told him I was a college instructor.  This began a very philosophical exchange about the American educational system, and how it might be improved.

By the time we reached 21st and 7th, Alpha was concerned about how I would get to my hotel.  I told him my friend would be waiting and he would help me find it.  Alpha asked if my friend knew New York better than I did, and I assured him he did.  When we got to the corner, Alpha asked where my friend was, and I replied, “Oh, I’m sure he’s here somewhere!”  My kindly cabbie then offered to wait and see if my friend had shown up, just in case I needed a ride to the hotel.  I’m sure he was mostly motivated by economic necessity [and the fact that I'd tipped him $5.00], but he was such a kind man that I think he was also concerned about my ability to navigate the city – and about turning me loose on another unsuspecting cab driver.

21st Street & 7th Ave. - Photo by DMT

D. was waiting on the opposite corner, and as he crossed the street I yelled “Hey you!” as I did a little dance of joy on the corner.  He laughed, and yelled back, “Welcome to New York!”  We hauled my bag a few blocks to the nearest Starbucks, had coffee and caught up while we waited for the rain to subside.

When the storm had passed, D. and I caught a cab to my hotel where I checked in and dropped off my bag.  The rest of the afternoon was spent walking, riding the subway, and seeing the parts of the city that D. knew I wanted to see [to be detailed in my next post].

My first few hours in New York City were filled with so much excitement that I began to wonder the rest of the trip would measure up.  I need not have worried, my entire trip was even more wonderful that I had anticipated, and it confirmed my belief that I do, indeed, belong in New York.

And in case you were curious about where I went – here’s a map of my travel to Harlem and back.

First Day on Subway

Stay tuned for more adventures!

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

East Village. Photo by DMT

82 days and counting!

Last week I booked my flight to New York City, and wrote about conquering fears through researching my options.  This week I think it a good idea to share the resources I used [and will be using] to make my decisions.

A couple of months ago, while surfing the web at work and becoming quite frustrated, a travel-savvy co-worker literally leaned over my computer and pointed my web browser to the Kayak site. Kayak is a site that consolidates information from hundreds of other travel sites, and allows users to find flights, hotel rooms, cars and the best deals on all things travel-related. That small act of kindness led me to download the Kayak app for my iPhone and allowed me to search for flights at my convenience, bookmark the options I found, and program settings to notify me when ticket prices changed.  As a result, I was able to find the exact flight times and dates I needed, and paid less than $300.00 for my ticket.

During our 2007 trip, J. and I stayed at the cozy SoHotel, and enjoyed everything about it. Well, almost everything. J. does not enjoy sharing a room with me because apparently I snore – rather loudly.  We promised that the next time we traveled together, we’d find a hotel where we could book separate rooms at a reasonable rate.  Reasonable rates for separate rooms in New York City?  Right.

Never doubt the [research] power or perseverance of a woman who requires a good night’s sleep.

J. found the perfect place at The Jane.  Located at 113 Jane Street in the West Village, the hotel was designed by William A. Boring [most well-known for the Ellis Island immigrant station] and originally built as a hotel for sailors. As a result, The Jane offers rooms with a single twin bed – much like a ship’s cabin – and shared bathrooms on each floor.  The rooms are surprisingly well outfitted for such a small space, and offer flat screen televisions, iPod docking stations, and Wifi access – all for the reasonable price of $99.00 a night [plus a 14.75% city/state tax and a $3.50 hotel occupancy fee - quite a switch from the hotel's original fee of ".25 per night for sailors, and .50 per night for all others." I wish].

The hotel was renovated in 2008, and is absolutely beautiful – both inside and out! If you want to learn more, read Christopher Gray’s wonderful article in the NY Times, entitled “Popeye Slept Here, and Now Olive Oyl Can, Too!”, about The Jane’s history.

One thing that has made me simultaneously excited and nervous about traveling to New York is the public transportation system [and not just because I hold out hope that Rod Stewart will, in fact, be there singing to me. C'mon, this blog is all about dreaming big!!].  I loved the bus and subway system during the last trip, but that was because I was with an experienced traveler who knew how to efficiently navigate the system.  This time, I’m on my own, and although I have an incredibly good sense of direction [late night holiday season excursions in downtown Detroit notwithstanding], I tend to get flustered when I feel like I don’t know where I’m going or how to get there.

One would think that the teacher in me would be able to negate this fear.  After all, how many times have students heard me say, “The only stupid question is one that is not asked”?

Right.

The truth is that I get nervous because I’m afraid of looking out of place.  That make me nervous because I’m worried that what they say about New York will be true – visitors are easily targeted because they don’t look like they know where they’re going.  I don’t want to become a statistic, but then who does?

My biggest fear was how to get from La Guardia Airport to the hotel because I knew I’d have to take both a bus and the subway, but I had no idea how to determine that itinerary.  I got fairly worked up about the problem, until I realized I had a big gun [of information] at my disposal  – a native New Yorker.

I immediately wrote D. who gave me several options – the bus/subway combo, which would take an hour or so, at a cost of $2.50 or the cab option, which would cut travel to 30 minutes or less, but cost me $30-40.00.  D. kindly advised me that the bus option would be “a pain in the ass if you have big luggage,” to which I replied, “I travel pretty light -one bag [on wheels] and one purse – now, the number of pairs of heels in the bag…”

I also located David Pogue’s succinct NY Times review of the most helpful navigation apps for New York City.  I downloaded HopStop, an app that gives travelers both walking and transit directions to and from any location in NYC, and found it useful as I started planning my time in the city. I have also been using my iPhone map app to get acclimated to where things are, and that makes me feel a little more secure.

What I can actually do while in New York is yet another concern because while I want to have a great time, I do not have the budget [this time!] to live large in the Big Apple.  Though, I must admit, that there is something incredibly fun and challenging about figuring out how I can have the best experience for the least amount of money.  I think this is a throw back to the fact that I derive the greatest satisfaction from that which meets my needs at the lowest cost – those who know me will recognize this as the “cost-per-use-benefit analysis” that I use for buying shoes.

As I plan my meals in New York, I’ve found Urbanspoon New York to be incredibly useful.  This app allows users to search by location, type of food and price, and provides links to reviews, both by restaurant critics and the average customer.  The mobile app has a feature that I’ve grown to love as I’ve used it – you can lock one of the three categories [I lock price in the $ zone] and then “spin” the wheel to get a location and type of cuisine!  I’ve started compiling a list of places that sound deliciously interesting!

Finally, for anyone planning any kind of trip, Slide Share posted the “Fifty Mobile Travel Apps You Should Know.” I’ve found many of them interesting for my urban trip, but there are lots of apps aimed at helping those who are driving to their destinations, as well.  It’s a great presentation with a lot of useful information!

I’m excited about the planning because it will provide me with so many options that once I’m actually in New York City I won’t waste a moment being nervous or worried about what to do or where to go.

This girl is going to have fun!

One Year to Move Soundtrack

Christmas in New York (2010)

Liberty Plaza. Photo by DMT.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

I have always wanted to spend Christmas in New York City. Everything about the season seems like it would be bigger, bolder, and more beautiful in the city with all of the hustle and bustle of the crowds, the softly falling snow flakes, and the twinkling store windows.  I’m sure that native New Yorkers probably find these things irritating and annoying since they’ve had years to experience the “magic of the season” and now just want to escape the crowds, dry off the snow, and avoid the tourists who clog up the sidewalks as the gawk at windows the residents see every day.

I can’t help it, though, I believe in the magic.  I believe that Christmas in New York would fill me with awe and wonder at every turn.

So, in the spirit of my fantasy Christmas in New York, I’ve created a list of the things that would make my holiday season joyful.

2009 Bergdorf Goodman window. Photo by Dan Cross.

1. The Christmas Windows Walking Tour: This map provides visitors with a route that takes them past the decorated windows at Macy’s, Bergdorf Goodman, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Bloomingdales.  The site recommends dressing warmly, wearing comfortable shoes, and keeping a close eye [or hand] on one’s belongings since the sidewalks in front of the stores are quite packed and provide the perfect opportunity for pickpocketing.

The Pond at Bryant Park. Photo by Bryant Park.org.

2. Ice Skating at Bryant Park: The Pond [as it's referred to] is open to anyone who wants to skate, and does not charge admission.  Skates can be rented for $13.00 a pair, however.  I know I would spend my time on the ice clinging to the wall, but it would be worth it to skate on the rink where Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack finally meet in “Serendipity.” [Correction: As my friend and trusted NYC fact checker, D. points out in his comments, the rink they meet on is actually in Central Park, but I like the image of them meeting at the Bryant Park Pond better, so I'm not editing out my mistake].

3. Radio City Music Hall: It may be cheesy and commercial, but who in the world doesn’t want to see the Radio City Rockettes performing their perfectly choreographed high kicks in matching holiday costumes?  Seriously.

St. Patrick's Cathedral. Photo by Wiki Commons.

5. Midnight Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral: While I jokingly refer to myself as a “recovering Catholic,” I find that when I think about Christmas in New York, it always includes a trip to St. Patrick’s for midnight mass.  I’ll have to make a note to myself for Christmas 2012 because midnight mass at the cathedral requires reserved seating.  [Does God know about this Catholic version of Ticketmaster?]

6. New York Philharmonic – Handel’s Messiah: Click on the link and listen to a recorded portion of the performance.  The recording sends chills down my spine, so I can’t imagine the experience of actually sitting in Avery Fisher Hall listening to the choir build on each “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”

Brooklyn Bridge at NYBG. Photo by Heather Cross.

7. The Holiday Train Show at the New York Botanical Gardens: The Holiday Train Show at the New York Botanical Gardens features model trains traveling around the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory amongst over 140 replicas of New York City landmarks. The replicas are created by award-winning designer Paul Busse using only plants.

8. The Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree: A Norway Spruce lit with 30,000 lights and topped with a Swarovski crystal star?  That’s the ticket!

9. Christmas Tree and Neapolitan Baroque Crèche: From November 30 to January 6, the Metropolitan Museum of Art offers “A vivid eighteenth-century Neapolitan Nativity scene—embellished with a profuse array of diminutive, lifelike attendant figures and silk-robed angels hovering above—adorns the candlelit spruce.”

The Met Christmas Tree. Photo by the Met.

10. Santa at Macy’s: I’m not sure that I have a burning desire to sit on the jolly old elf’s lap, but the little kid in me definitely wants to see Santa Claus in all his glory – preferably before the crumb snatchers arrive.

Is Christmas in New York better than Christmas anywhere else?  I can’t answer that question, but I can say that, for me, the beauty of the season lies in love, hope, wonder, and my optimistic faith that magic and miracles are entirely possible – if we chose to believe in them.

Here’s to Christmas 2012 in New York City!  I believe!

(UPDATE: If you are interested in this year’s Christmas events in NYC, check out my 2011 Christmas List!)

One Year to Move soundtrack

Brooklyn

Brooklyn Heights from Lower Manhattan. Photo from Wikimedia Commons

All signs point to Brooklyn.

I’ve been researching where I want to live when I move to New York, and while I’ve tried to envision myself in many of the different neighborhoods, I seem to be getting a signal from the universe that Brooklyn is where I belong.

The first sign was the Battle of Brooklyn. Fought in 1776 after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, it was the longest and largest battle of the entire American Revolutionary War.  Brooklyn is stubborn, resistant and has a history of doing things its own way – I can relate.

The idea that I should live in Brooklyn started to germinate about a year and a half ago, when I begged D. to take pictures of “all those Brooklyn girls” mentioned in Rod Stewart’s song “Downtown Train.”  D. promised he’d try, but I think he’s been wary about invading other people’s privacy – even on a subway platform – either that or Brooklyn girls scare him [Don't judge! I've heard those girls are kind of tough].  In any case, my imagination ran wild and “Brooklyn girls” became the mythical representation of all that is mysteriously exciting about New York City.  I want to be one.  I think.

The second sign occurred during a shopping trip with J. We visited Sephora in search of the perfect shade of pink-but-not-too-pink lipstick.  After an hour of trying on every brand and shade we could locate [and assuring the nice sales people who work that, yes, we we were finding everything okay] we finally found the perfect shade – Buxom’s “Brooklyn” [which we now both own!].

A few weeks later, J. sent me an email in which she had attached a link to a line of address change cards from Lucky Duck Letter Press.  The cards are called “Brooklyn Brownstone” and they’re perfect!

Last month, Daily Candy offered up creations from the Butter Queen of Brooklyn! Four flavors of homemade butter named after former US First Ladies: Martha Washington: Roasted Garlic, Chives, and Tarragon; Eleanor Roosevelt: Pecan Praline; Jackie O.: Bing Cherry, Bourbon Vanilla, and Pink Sea Salt; Lady Bird: Hibiscus Lime.  Yummy!

Photo by Butter Queen of Brooklyn.

I’ve also been digging through the real estate ads again.  I’ve fallen in love with curved nooks, large windows and the personality of each Brooklyn brownstone, but I’ve also realized that falling in love is probably going to cost me upwards of $2000.00 a month. This is probably the minimum I’ll need to rent an apartment that is in a safe neighborhood and has enough space to allow me to maintain a bedroom rather than mount a sleeping bunk over the stove in the kitchen.  I’m either going to need a bigger savings account or a better paying job – or both.

There is something very appealing about being able to live in a part of the city that feels like a community.  Brooklyn is the largest of the five bouroughs in New York with a population of more than 2.5 million.  Its residents are incredibly diverse in race, class, gender, sexuality, and country of origin making it an intersection of interesting experiences!  Brooklyn offers a lively residential experience, proximity to the city, and a chance to escape the urban jungle for a little greenery and the hope of being able to afford an apartment that is bigger than the size of the average high school gym locker.

Photo by the New York Observer

The ethnic makeup of Brooklyn lends itself to a wide variety of restaurants and shops – Italian in Bensonhurst, Dyker Heights, and Bay Ridge; West Indian in Crown Heights and Flatbush; Polish in Greenpoint; and Chinese in Sunset Park.  The city has also provided the backdrop for books such as William Styron’s Sophie’s Choice, Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and Paule Marshall’s Brown Girl, Brown Stones [three books I have loved!], and for the 1970s cult classic, Saturday Night Fever.  C’mon, who wouldn’t want to live in the city where John Travolta strutted down the street in white polyester bell bottoms as the Bee Gees blared from a boom box?

The sign that made me finally admit that Brooklyn is where I belong, appeared last weekend when a woman came into the store where I work and asked for a small  part.  While we were waiting to see if it was available, we got to talking about what she did for a living.  She told me that she was a grad student at NYU, and when I asked where she lived in the city her answer was – yep – Brooklyn.

Brooklyn seems like the right choice for me.  It’s close enough for me to be able to work and play in Manhattan, but far enough away to give the hope of being affordable and to provide a respite from the hustle and bustle.  The architecture is beautiful, and so far, the apartments I’ve perused on the New York Times Real Estate section seem cozy, but full of light.

I think I could feel very much at home in the city where all those Brooklyn girls live!

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Breakfast in Central Park

Photo by DMT

Central Park: A pastoral retreat in the center of the city that never sleeps; an oasis of calm greenery; a gathering place for art and cultural expression.

It sounds like heaven on earth.

It’s hard to believe that a city as large as New York is home to the most visited urban park in the United States, but each year over twenty-five million people make their way to Central Park.

Designed, in 1858, by landscape designer and writer Fredrick Law Olmsted and the English architect Calvert Vaulx, the park opened in 1870 and covers 770 square acres of city-owned land smack-dab in the center of Manhattan.  In 2005, the real estate value of Central Park was estimated by the property appraisal firm, Miller Samuel, to be $528,783,552,000!

The need, and desire, for a centrally located park in New York City was first voiced in 1844 by poet and editor of the Evening Post, William Cullen Bryant, and by American landscape artist, Andrew Jackson Downing, who felt that as New York grew more crowded, residents needed open air spaces in which to escape the hustle and bustle of city life. At the time, the only such places to escape were the cemeteries, like Green-Wood in Brooklyn.  New York residents also voiced a desire for spaces like London’s Hyde Park and Paris’ Bois de Boulugne where they could engage in open-air driving.

Photo by DMT

Inspired by English parks such as Birkenhead and Derby Arboretum, Olmsted argued that a park was “…a democratic development of the highest significance.”  [ironically, Olmsted clashed with the city's Democratic machine during the construction of the park].  In 1858, Olmsted and Valux designed was was called the “Greensward Plan” and won a city-sponsored contest.  Construction on the park began that same year, and was fraught with complications related to everything from clearing the land [this required relocating the impoverished, mainly African American, population residing on the land] to clearing the actual land [more gunpowder was used to clear this area than was used during the battle of Gettysburg!] to importing soil from New Jersey because the New York soil was not fertile or substantial enough to sustain the four million trees, plants and shrubs [1,500 different species] that the plan called for.

Central Park was an instant hit with New Yorkers, but by 1900 the popularity of the park was on the decline.  The City Park Commission had been disbanded in 1870, and in 1895 Valux died, leaving the upkeep of the park in question.  A growing fascination with a new technological development – the automobile – meant that people were less interested in using the park for walks and picnics, and the lack of interest shown by the Tammany Hall political machine in keeping up the park left the park largely untended until the early 1930s.  [Fun park fact: Sheep's Meadow got it's name because until the early 1930s sheep actually grazed in the meadow.  They were relocated upstate during the Great Depression for fear that they would be used as food by impoverished New Yorkers].

In 1934, Mayor Fiorello La Guardia was elected to office and put Robert Moses in charge of revitalizing the park.  Moses would become one of the most powerful men in New York as he secured New Deal funds and overhauled the entire park system in a single year.  Moses not only ordered clean up and replanting, he also had workers construct 19 playgrounds, 12 ball fields and handball courts, turning Central Park into a recreational space as well as place to escape city life.

The 1960s defined another era, known as the “Events Era,” in Central Park as the city promoted the use of the park for cultural and political events.  During the 60s theater companies, like Public Theater, produced “Shakespeare in the Park,” and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra and Metropolitan Opera began staging productions in the park.  However, despite the interest in cultural events, by the mid-1970s, the park was in decline again.  Economic and social factors both played a role in the park’s reputation as neglected landscape during the day, and a menacing danger to public safety by night.

Central Park by Wikipedia Free Media Project

In 1979, citizen’s groups began forming as a means of countering the park’s reputation as a dangerous place to visit, and by 1980, under the leadership of the Central Park Conservancy revitalization projects were carried out.  The Conservancy sought to restore the once-pastoral feel of the park by eliminating things such as graffiti and instituting a system of “zone based management” that allows for more specialized care of the park.

I am just as excited about exploring this beautiful park within the city as I am about exploring the city itself.  Central Park has history – like Literary Walk, where some of the first sculptures in the park were installed to recognize and honor writers and poets – and culture – like Summerstage, a series of free performances including music, dance, spoken word, and film presentations.  It is a space that allows for private contemplation of nature, and community gatherings that feed the mind and spirit.

The thought of a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a blanket spread out on the lawn while listening to the Philharmonic work some orchestral magic sounds like the perfect Saturday – or any other day- in the park!

Heaven on earth, indeed.

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