On Saturday we went to New York City, to celebrate the older boy’s 18th birthday. It was on-again, off-again and I wasn’t sure the trip was actually going to happen until Friday evening. Too much chaos. There’s no planning anymore… gone are the days of the planning.
At the beginning of the week “they” were saying it would be rainy and 55 on Saturday, which didn’t sound very good. But it turned out to be perfection. It was sunny and warm: the first gorgeous day of the year. Stuckes, the ancient god of travel, was cutting us a break.
The older boy’s girlfriend went with us, and we left our car at a Park ‘n’ Ride in beautiful Secaucus, NJ. As soon as we got there a bus pulled up, and we were in a frenzy trying to buy tickets. We miscounted, due to the rush, and when it got to me… we were out of tickets.
The driver sighed with annoyance, but told me to go pay and he’d wait for me. And as soon as I stepped off the bus he closed the door and drove off. WTF??
Well, I guess I’ll be taking the next bus, I thought. So I leisurely bought myself a ticket, and went back outside. And the bus was stopped, about a football field away. The driver stepped off and yelled, “You coming, or not?!” And I had to jog a great distance, for reasons unknown. What was with this guy? I certainly hope he was enjoying himself.
Toney informed me the birthday boy wanted to have lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe. “What?!” I whisper-shouted. “It’s like Friday’s with guitars. In fact, I think Friday’s has guitars.”
“Well, that’s where he wants to go,” she said, drawing the negotiations to a close.
They told us it would be an hour wait, which made me grind my molars for a couple of seconds. But whatever. I’ve gotten pretty good at rolling with it. Much better than I was ten years ago. The place was pandemonium, and we found a semi-quiet spot to hole up for sixty minutes.
The kids left and wandered around Times Square for a while. And Toney and I chatted with a Hard Rock employee, who was very friendly. She lives in Queens, ya know, and commutes every day.
The meal was fine, but WAAAAY over-priced. I think a little poop came out when I saw the check. Sweet sainted mother of Harold Hecuba! But again… just roll with it.
Something kinda funny happened there, though. Toney told our cool-cat waiter that the boy was having a birthday, and he said, “Great! We’ll hook him up with a free dessert later. We don’t do all that embarrassing stuff here. It’ll be cool.”
And after lunch was finished he brought out a sundae with a candle in it. Then he asked our son to go with him, to “meet a few people.” They walked out into the middle of the floor, and the waiter let out some kind of insane Tarzan yell, and the place went quiet. The music went off, everybody stopped talking, and it was total silence.
“May I have your attention? This is my man’s eighteenth birthday today, and on the count of three I want everybody to wish him a happy birthday!” the waiter hollered, at a stadium volume. Yeah, very subtle.
Then we started walking. We cut through Central Park, which was packed-out. The weather was perfection, and folks were taking advantage of the situation. The older boy and his girlfriend wanted to go the Metropolitan Museum of Art, so we walked all the way up there — which was about two miles.
And then Toney, the younger boy, and I kept walking. We ended up inside some crazy candy store, called Dylan’s Candy Bar. Upstairs there is an actual bar, and Toney had a Pop Rocks martini. I just had a bowl of ice cream, and a gallon of water. We still had a shitload o’ walking to do, and I had no desire for booze.
We were on the Upper East Side, home of the zillionaires. Very fancy, indeed. We just wandered around, went into some stores, etc. No plan, no hurry. But plenty of walking.
We gave the museum-goers a three hour window, and once that closed they called and we told them where to meet us. NYC feels so safe, and easy to navigate now. I first went there in 1978, or thereabouts, and it was a crime-ridden shithole. Or, that’s what it felt like to me, anyway. Not anymore. I had no qualms whatsoever in letting the boy and his girl walk to the Central Park bench we’d staked out. It was twenty blocks or so.
It was getting dark as we made our way back to Port Authority, and the bus to Secaucus. I snapped the photo at the top with my phone, in the middle of Times Square. It almost looks computer generated, but ain’t.
The second photo is our view from inside the Hard Rock Cafe, while we waited, and waited, and waited. Then, of course, Central Park. That’s followed by a rare photo of my son and his girlfriend on a sunny day. And finally, the view from our park bench, as we waited on them to return from the museum. All the photos are clickable, in case you’re interested.
We got home around midnight, and the next morning I felt like I’d been run over by a street sweeper, and dragged for a few blocks. I know we walked ten miles, maybe more. But it was pretty close to perfect: no problems, no stress, great weather…
Some other semi-interesting things happened, too. But I’m out of time here. We’ll catch up next time. How’s that sound?
Have yourselves a great day, my friends!
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself to something cool at Amazon!
Hey-Ohh!
Been wanting to do NYC.
It’s true, NYC used to be a dangerous shithole in the 1970s and 1980s. Then Mayor Giuliani made it safe and turned the city into a theme park (NewYorkLand) that is safe for tourists. You would have never split up your fambly for a day trip like you did the other day if you were in the city a couple of decades ago.
Sweet, Elder Secret is going to have a hell of a week doing nothing but smoking cigarettes and joining the Navy.
I saw a documentary about New York in 1981 and there was public urination and cocaine and suchlike. So I rushed to see it for myself, but I didn’t make it until 2009 and by then all of the fun had left the building.
NYC was on the verge of bankruptcy in 1977. It was Mayor Koch who saved the city form the brink of shit-hole-ness. Guiliani just helped to pussify the Big Apple. I’m glad it’s safe for residents and tourists but we lost the luster.
Saturday was an absolutely gorgeous day to visit. Glad you had a good time. And you’re right – the top picture is postcard worthy! Great shot!
I’ve only been there once. I was at Grand Central Station to change trains on the way to upstate NY. I sort of recall walking around outside a bit. This was about 8 years ago I think. I don’t recall too much. Too many people for me though.
Sounds like you had a wonderful family outing! We went to Bass Pro Shop so my son could sit on the lap of a really creepy ass Easter Bunny. Pretty sure he had a van with no windows parked in back…
My brother spent about a year in NYC working construction after HS and before college. This was in about 1981 or 82. He got mugged pretty much everyday on his way to work. He carried something like $4 with him, just enough for lunch. Didn’t matter if he left at a different time, took a different route, there was always someone that would see his hayseed butt coming. It was a just a shit hole. He kept a 5 in his shoe so that when he got mugged, he still had cash for lunch.
I’ve never been there but I did see Escape From New York, so I know a little bit about the city.
Now if you watch The Warriors, you will pretty much have the complete picture.
I was thinking Grand Theft Auto.
I’m glad they cleared Cyrus for the hit, so he could, you know, get on with his productive life.
As long as you avoid the pimps and the CHUDS.
Your son and his girlfriend make a lovely shadow. You should be proud.
Sweet sainted mother of Harold Hecuba!
It is too be
or not to be
that is the question that I ask of thee!
I miss ol’ HH.
Sweet sainted mother of Wrongway Feldman !!
New York on a beautiful spring day… it’s a very fine thing. In the late 60s and early 70s, the town was dirty and dangerous, but also a jumpin’ place. Young, loud and snotty, as it were. Almost like living in a Tom Waits song.
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Everyone’s your friend in New York City. Almost forgot.
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Certainly, but I’d hasten to point out that everything looks beautiful when you’re young and pretty.
jtb
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFKThNh5Vqk
I’m a big fan of TMBG, but nothing trumps writing a good song. Thanks for posting the original. And maybe my memory’s faulty, but it seemed to me that streets were paved with black circles of old bubblegum. Or cubic zirconia, or something.
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Chill…
Yeah, TMBG has been one of my favorite bands since the late 80s/early 90s. I’ve heard the story, probably not entirely apocryphal, that John and John were driving in rural Washington or Idaho, touring in support of Apollo 18 or John Henry, when they heard Cub’s great song, “New York City” on a distant, scratchy radio station. They pulled over and called the station, discovered the name of the band and their label, and soon procured a copy of Cub’s album, “Come Out, Come Out”.
However, they didn’t call Cub or get a copy of the sheet music or lyrics, so they have Bob Dylan living in the Empire State Building instead of King Kong. There are several other differences, all of them, I think, in the context of the story, improvements. John and John retained some of the upbeat jangle sound and minimized the cuddlecore tone, and, as usual, sang a great pop cover.
At the time the boys heard the song, Lisa G had just replaced Neko Case as drummer and harmony singer of Cub. Because Cub was based in Vancouver B.C., and, because their lead singer and bassist, Lisa Marr could write and sing and, when necessary, engage in fistfights with vocal male critics in the audience (riot-girrrl power), I followed the band fairly closely and own all four of their albums. I was never a cuddlecore guy, but I know good punk rock when I hear it.
I’m not sure the girls had actually been to New York at the time Lisa wrote the song. I know they had been as far east as Ohio, because there was a documented incident there of Lisa and lead guitarist Robynn Iwata punching out a drunk guy in the audience because the girls objected to being called bitches while they were trying to sing and play. Robynn must have topped out at 110 pounds, but messing with her while she was performing was a mistake.
Cub is one of the things I miss about the 90s. I also miss a strong back and part of my liver, but I miss Cub more.
jtb
jtb
Ive heard you can only slip your dick through a medium sized popcorn bucket. All the larges were bloomberged out.
Extra butter please.
A few more huge digital billboards and it would be Tokyo.
Theme song from the Jeffersons going through my head now…
Lol