Article
New York, New York
Short version
Michelle and I went to New York City for spring break last week. We had a great time despite the cold, rain, snow, closed museums, confusing subways, large credit card bills, and incompetent cab drivers. Brooklyn is chill and homey, Manhattan is sensational and bustling. Everyone rides the subway together, and they are all perfectly happy about it. Thanks to Matt Miller, Eric Lieberman and Jon Silberlicht for their hospitality!
The long, long version
Friday, March 12 was a long day. We left Madison at 10 a.m., drove to Milwaukee, then got to the airport at about 12:15 (after a short stop at Michelle's grandma's). The lines were deliciously short, but the flavor was wasted on a two-hour delay caused by "high winds" at La Guardia airport. By the time we took off, airport officials at LGA decided to use only one runway, making our arrival to New York very interesting: It's the biggest city in the country, but the airport looked like a ghost town.
Still drugged up on Dramamine, caffeine and cold medicine, we took a cab to Michelle's cousin's office in Times Square. Matt is a video editor for VH1, and thanks to him our first few hours in the city were very New York. We visited one of the world's biggest media companies (Viacom, VH1's parent), learned about the true price of food, talked with television producers, and had an "early night" at 1 a.m. in preparation for Matt's 30th birthday the next day.
Apparently we were tired, because Michelle and I slept until 1 p.m. on Saturday. After breakfast at the diner and a phone conversation with my parents ("you're eating breakfast??", we visited Brooklyn's Prospect Park. I really wanted to go because I've been studying Frederick Law Olmsted, the park's co-designer, in my urban planning class; Michelle and Matt were kind enough to come along. We grabbed coffee, then stopped home so we could get ready for the night's major activity, a party for Matt's birthday -- the big 3-0.
I don't know many 30-year-olds, but apparently not too much changes from my age to theirs. Matt had his birthday at the Bleecker Bar in NoHo, all his work friends came, and everyone got really drunk. We slipped out to have dinner and do a little shopping, but returned when things really started to heat up. There was talk of diapers, elephants, sketch comedy and IT, but I'm not sure how it all fit together.
The rest of the night, in short:
- I met Michelle's friend Eric, a New Jersey native who attended UW and is now waiting to start medical school.
- Met Jon, Eric's friend from Long Island, who is also waiting to start medical school.
- Left the party to meet another of Eric's friends. The friend didn't show. We watched a mediocre cover band instead.
- Went to Eric's apartment, a nice two-bedroom near Union Square, where we engaged in late-night ramblings before taking a cab back to Brooklyn and falling into bed at 4:30 a.m.
We slept really late again on Sunday, then had lunch at Los Pollitos, which served quite possibly the best Mexican food I've ever had. Before I left, Adam Powell told me to eat in any little restaurant I could find in NYC. "The competition forces the bad ones to close down," he said. As of day 3, that proved to be very good advice. We found Los Pollitos during one of our 'walking around looking for food' activities, and it was amazing. I had flautas (fried tacos, sort of) that were so good, I didn't want to finish.
That afternoon, we did the obligatory SoHo shopping. We visited Apple, Camper (where I would fall in love with a pair of shoes that I cannot link to because their website uses Flash in naughty ways), and a barrage of mostly indiscernible boutiques that sold very small clothes for women.
Later, we met up with Eric, Jon and some friends who had just arrived: Rachel Borkin and Rachel Gross. Together, we went to The View, a rotating bar and lounge in the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. It was a bit disorienting, especially for someone with a history of balance problems. Regardless, the view was amazing, the speed was 0.017 RPM, and we had a great time.
Monday was early by comparison (10 a.m.), and a busy day. With intentions of "doing something" (i.e. getting up early, seeing some sites, etc), we took the subway to Manhattan and enjoyed a pleasant walk through Central Park. Monday was one of those perfect days -- mid-50s and sunny -- and strolling through the park with m' lady was idyllic. Our glee turned to disappointment, then confusion, as we arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (next on the itinerary) and found it closed.
Since then, I've come to call it Museum Moratorium Monday -- apparently the Met and a few others don't consider Monday an appropriate day for museum-going, and who could blame them? I think someone was trying to tell us something, because we were instead "forced" to enjoy the beautiful weather. So, alas, we did more shopping. This time it was Madison Ave, complete with H&M (who undercuts the brand names by producing their clothes at the same sweatshops but charging less) and Le Sportsac.
We shopped, we dropped, but those Monday-hating museum folk could not keep us down. The Museum of Art and Design (fools) was open, and we snuck in just before closing time for a brief viewing. Fortunately, MAD was small, and we really enjoyed the exhibit on display.
Later that night, we accompanied Matt to Rose's Turn, a piano bar in the East Village. For those of us raised in Wisconsin, piano bars are something you see in movies, but this was the real deal! Matt's friend Joe, who tends bar there, took the mic for two songs (one of which was Radiohead's "Exit Music") and a group of regulars took turns sitting in with the piano player, who touched on Led Zeppelin, Duke Ellington and the Beatles during his set.
It's hard to be emphatic without sounding naive, but Rose's Turn is a real gem -- I'd go back in a second. Music like this is dying in America, but what's left of it is beautiful and inspiring.
Tuesday was by far the worst day of our trip. We woke up to snow -- big, fat, wet, thick flakes -- but decided to go ahead with our plan and wait in line for tickets to a musical. That was definitely a mistake.
On the subway to Manhattan, we told ourselves that the line would probably be short due to the weather. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea. We waited for an hour (well, I waited for an hour; Michelle dipped out for a few minutes) in the nasty, wet snow/rain mixture. "Wintery mix," they say. I say, "Blech!" But we persevered, and by 4 p.m. we had three tickets for I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change (WARNING: Loud music and browser resizing ahead).
After all that, at least the show was good -- very funny, clever and appropriately simple. I highly recommend it to anyone. Just don't stand in the snow for an hour to see it.
On Wednesday, we tried to catch up on all the activities we missed due to sleep, bad luck or poor planning. In the interest of space, here is the abbreviated record of our day:
- By some stroke of luck, we left Matt's apartment at 8:15 a.m. and boarded the subway for Wall Street. We were hoping to see the center of the economic universe, but instead we saw a bunch of men in suits and got very cold. The Street (as some call it) is depressing, dim and boring. In the interest of maximum efficiency, the country's most significant financial institutions are clumped together here in lower Manhattan, but they forgot to leave room for culture.
- The World Trade Center site is, naturally, at the center of all this sadness. Gray, desolate and quite obvious, there is a gaping hole where two of the world's tallest buildings used to stand, commemorated only by massive fences and a few displays. It's not much of a tourist attraction yet, thank goodness.
- We met Borkin and Gross for lunch at Terra 47, a trendy, minimalist, organic food joint on 12th near Broadway. The food tasted very healthy, but in a good way.
On our way to the Met, Michelle and I literally ran into the St. Patrick's Day Parade down 5th Avenue. It was generally interesting, but I really enjoyed the bagpipe bands -- some of those old-timers rock some pretty funky beats.- So, we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was pretty much like all of the other art museums I've been to, which is probably the least interesting thing I've ever written. Tough luck.
- That evening, we ate dinner at Mon Petite Café at 62nd and Lexington. This was, without a doubt, my favorite dining experience of the trip. Amazing food, great wine, cozy atmosphere and Michelle's company made for a perfect meal. When the snow started to fall, and the soft street lights glowed through the flakes, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
Thursday was very boring, a typical traveling day. At noon, Michelle had a phone interview with Leo Burnett's corporate communications department. She wouldn't let me listen, but said it went pretty well. At 9 p.m., we landed in Milwaukee. At 11:30, we pulled in the driveway in Green Lake. Beautiful.
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I've been reading about New York City for a long, long time. It's the quintessential American city, the subject of classes, books and weblogs (oh, here too). All of the good things I've heard about New York were true, all of the bad things were false. My expectations were high, but the trip was great and I would love to go back.