We flew from Orlando to Newark, NJ, then took a hotel shuttle to Manhattan via the Lincoln Tunnel. The 3-day musical theatre workshop (acting, singing, dancing) was staged by Broadway Artist Alliance, housed in the heart of the Theatre District. The hotel was conveniently a block away.
E's workshop started each morning at 9:30. M&E sleep until the last minute (trusting the world again). I wake up at the crack of dawn. I did NOT want to be around when they woke up late and crashed around the hotel room. I slipped out and went down to the lobby to drink lots of coffee and read an actual newspaper. Oh yeah, there were BAGELS. The real deal. I was in heaven.
The workshop didn't end until 7:00 p.m., leaving M and me free to roam, shop, eat, and talk each day. I loved spending time alone with her. It was also a long school holiday weekend, so crowds on the street were fierce. I walked fast, weaving and bobbing like a prizefighter. Or maybe more like a drunken sailor on leave, desperate to keep up?
Space is a prime commodity on an island. Stores in the City are narrow and multi-floored with people everywhere, even grocery and drug stores. It seemed odd to take an elevator to get to the sinus meds in Walgreens. Buildings are unique and details a joy, especially on the oldest, funkiest buildings. I had a good time just looking at things.
We went to a NY style pizzeria and devoured a fabulously greasy pepperoni and black olive pizza! The crust was perfect. I'm happy to report Florida pizza will never satisfy my granddaughter again.
Homeless people begging on the streets are heartbreaking. I imagine native New Yorkers become desensitized, but it hurt my heart. One young man was lying next to a building covered with a dirty blanket. He was clearly sick or high, his eyes glazed. He never looked up, even when I put money in his cardboard box and he muttered a weak "Thank you." He is someone's child. I wanted to hold him in my arms and call him honey. I wanted to tell him everything will be okay, even though I know it won't. I wonder if his parents know where he is? I hope not.
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| Me, capturing something "important" while M screamed at me to get out of the street |
We had our resident beggar on 81st Street when I lived in Manhattan. I gave him a bit of my lunch money every day on the way to work but he disappeared in the winter and miraculously reappeared in the spring, like the daffodils. I always wondered about his story and if he's still living on the Upper East Side and if the folks there still protect and feed him with their lunch money.
ReplyDeleteI hope they do.
DeleteThat is heart breaking end to a beautiful post, i was only once in New York, took my son for a Bar-mitsva trip when he was 13.
ReplyDeleteI bet that was fun.
DeleteWhat are you talking about? We always got up an hour before E had to be in the lobby... that's not the last minute!
ReplyDeleteYikes, busted! Artistic license, my sweet.
DeleteI'm so enjoying this vicarious trip to NY with you. The sad parts are always there, that view of a single human whose life took the wrong turn, and there was no heading back. The streets are teeming with life, every part of it. Love that photo of you!
ReplyDeleteThanks Robin. I wish you could have joined us.
DeleteI love New York, as long as I can hold someone's hand. I'm so glad you enjoyed your visit back home.
ReplyDeleteIt was fun, but NYC is about 5 hours east of where I lived in the Fingerlakes Region of NYS.
DeleteOverall you had a good time. It is such a shame about the homeless. Someday maybe it won't be this way.
ReplyDeleteMaybe. I hope so, anyway. That poor kid is not long for this world, though.
DeleteHotels and busy streets, I love that about a city but yes, the despair and the lost and lonely souls, it's there also. You could not not see it.
ReplyDeleteGlad you weren't run over.
Being run over would have been a real bummer.
DeleteOh it sounds like a wonderful adventure! Tho' when I see the Homeless and Beggars in the City it always breaks my Heart too... been Homeless once a long, long time ago so I know there but for the Grace of God. I have an Adult Daughter with Serious Mental Illness that has gone thru Adult Life Homeless and Vagabond and somehow that is easier for her than maintaining a permanent residence anywhere {we've tried in the past and had to come to a Peace about her choices}... it's still no less worrisome to see any Human Being living on the Streets for whatever reason(s) might have placed them there. So I applaud you for your Love in Action shown towards that unfortunate Soul. I'm not surprised tho', you are a Tender Heart and it shines forth even in Blogland... Blessings from the Arizona Desert... Dawn... The Bohemian
ReplyDeleteThank you Dawn. Your kind words mean so much. I will love your daughter now, too.
DeleteNY always throbs with energy and life. Sounds like a lovely time but I'd also have been yelling for you to get out of the road! New Yorkers don't necessarily stop for crazy, jay-walking tourists! Your tale of that young fellow brought tears to my eyes. It's heartbreaking - the gaping chasm between the haves and the have-nots and it's just getting wider. Like you, I always think "That's somebody's baby." It could so easily be yours or mine. We all need to help each other along in life. Great post and nice to see you!
ReplyDeleteI had some close calls! Yes, that young man really broke me. He was barely a man, still so young.
DeleteI think it is a national embarrassment and disgrace how we (don't) treat the mentality ill, veterans, and other homeless. I find it particularly difficult when you can walk two blocks east and find the extremely wealthy at Saks and Tiffanys and Trump Tower. And I don't see that getting better in the next 4 years.
ReplyDeleteI have not lived in the NY metro area for quite a while but still have to get there a few times a year for my theater, pizza, bagel fix. Glad you got to enjoy them too!
Thanks 8thday. I don't understand why we can be such a cold, uncaring nation when there is unbelievable wealth here.
DeleteOne of the reasons I can't go to big cities is the poverty. It breaks me. Each time I go something dies in me a little.
ReplyDeleteIt is seriously rough.
DeleteSo glad you all got to go and had a grand time.
ReplyDeleteLove the pic. Glad you didn't get creamed.
Me, too.
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