I Ride the F

I've yet to fully embrace my new zip code and commute into work by the tram. It soars drammatically into the sky under the embrace of shadows off the Queensborough Bridge. Each day as I pound out the steps on the way to the subway station I am entertained by the tram's casual back and forth flight over the river.

It is easy to place most of the blame for my sticking to the subways on the rain that seemed to plague my entire June and so I will do just that. I had settled into a nice routine on the west side of biking into work once or twice a week or more generally whenever I won the battle with my snooze button and woke up in time to allow a morning workout and shower after the sweaty bikeride in. The river made for a peaceful and scenic morning on days I did choose the bike. It was an alltogethor different experience and nice change of pace for the hustle and flow beneath the city streets.

On moving to Roosevelt Island I had thought I might be forced to retire from commuting by bicycle. I was resigned to enjoying the walk along the East River each day while making my way to the subway but that first weekend we tram hopped across the river to eat a few times and gorge ourselves at Dylan's Candy shop. Each trip by tram I was enchanted by the river folding out beneath the quiet ride and the contrasting view of crowded east side blocks at the end of our outward trip. And each trip I kept seeing babies in strollers and cyclists boring their way onto the tram to enjoy the view alongside me. It gave me hope that I might join their ranks and resume commuting by the power of my legs every so often.

It hasn't happened yet but a new month has arrived and June's showers are far behind us. A distant memory. A filmy shadowy recall of past experience. Ok it rained several times last week as well but at least the heavens aren't pouring out a second great flood anymore. For now I am enjoying my extra bit of sleep and lazily walking to the F train but who knows what my happen this week. Except for The Shadow. He knows.

Moving.

I supposed this blog could use some updating. Never mind the lack of attention and utter laziness I have displayed in trying to regularly write down my experiences. As of last Thursday I am no longer a tourist of the Upper West Side. This news may be shocking and devastating to my throngs of readers hungry for more news of my recovery from Shake Shack addiction and the upcoming Summer along the Hudson movie series that we so enjoyed last year. But fear not my faithful readers, while we have left the safe boundaries of strollers and dogs along West 79th our new place was not such a long trip away. We will still be trolling around our favorite neighborhood haunts every so often but now in the role of visitor.

I used to comment often to my wife that we lived in the best part of the city. The greenery is abundant and overwhelming of the sidewalks and streets. I have rarely felt the reality of living amongst an ocean of concrete and skyscrapers that fill the rest of the island. I am even able to forgive the neighborhood of its' bargoers and party scene that seem just around the corner whichever street I walk my dog down at night.

I loved living here and had it not been for our close proximity to the parks and the rest of the charms of this neighborhood I might very easily have slipped into insanity those first few months after moving here. However exciting it was the move here from Dallas was nerve filled and anxious. We weren't quiet sure how this new life would play out and having a place that I enjoyed to spend my weekends and nights eventually made the transition work out fine. I never got over how poor these Yankee's taste in food is but the rest of it I adapted to.

Now two years later we've grown a bit tired of living in 350 sq feet. We wanted some space and had spent the better part of the last 6 months scowering Craigslist and the NYTimes for apartments all over the city. Prices seemed to be dropping everywhere (except Brooklyn but those people are loons anyways, only someone living in Brooklyn could convince themself its better than Manhattan). I enterntained fantasies (more commonly known as delusions in real estate) that we could upgrade to a 1 bedroom barely more than we currently paid.

It was to these delusions that we returned from our trip to Ireland a month and a half ago to begin our apartment hunt. Over the next few weeks we saw over 20 apartments. We worked with 3 different realtors and wasted hours of each day emailing and calling about real estate listings we saw online.

All I can really say about the hunt is that New York people are insane about real estate. In no other city in the country would the apartment hunter pay the apartment realtors fee for listings they've never even seen. Negotiating down a fee for a man to pick up a key from his office and let us into a building he's never seen nor researched anything about had me ready chuck it all and move to New Jersey. My wife talked some sense into me on that last thought but the mere fact that we even went to look at a complex there should tell you the depths of my despair. I saw more one bedrooms smaller that our current studio than I imagined possible. I never before knew that a queen sized bedroom really meant the bedroom would only hold a queen sized bed and nothing else.

We had every intention of wrapping up the hunt quickly and spending the first weeks in June packing and preparing for an easy move. Life just doesn't always play out to my best laid plans. As it happens the first complex we looked at was on Roosevelt Island, a small island between Manhattan and Queens with a few larger complexes than your traditional brownstone walkup. The apartment was great but we couldn't commit either of the 2 or 3 times we almost decided it was the place. We just weren't quite ready to give up on living in the UWS for another year and feared we'd miss out on easy access to everything. ALthough only one subway stop away from patsy's pizza and serendipity on the east side, the east river felt like an ocean between us and the buzz of the city.

At last we decided to give it one last look after touring Stuy Town for a second time as well. After weeks of wading through the dregs and dumps realtors were willing to show us in our budget the place seemed like a palace now. Laundry? Check. Floor to cieling windows? Check? Almost doubling the size of our apartment square footage? Got that too. I am happy to report that we have been living at the Octagon on Main St (I love being able to say I live on Main St in NYC) for the past week and are loving it so far. The city is easy to get into and just moving into a one bedroom from our studio I never imagined how much I could enjoy space in an apartment. I promise more updates are to come about our new place. For now it suffice's to say we are sad to leave the upper west side, happy we are still close to all the things we love about the city and excited to live in an area with a small town feel with views of the east side skyline.

Sidewalks

The sidewalks are once again filled with strollers and dogs, everyone in the city apparently anxious to soak in the sun and sights after a winter spent trapped inside. While the Christmas season is a fun time to be in the city surrounded by the ongoing pageantry of parades and trees and decorations everywhere, the rest of the winter leaves something to be desired.

I appear to have quickly gotten over my southerners attraction to snow. I like the pattern of it falling down and the way my dog slides along snow covered sidewalks in excitement before diving into fresh piles just off the street, but weeks of 20-30 degree weather leave the city blanketed not in crisp white snow but too often a sludgy pile of mush.

For the past few weeks we've been teased with the coming change of season and I've never paid so much attention to the weather forecasts as I do now. We handle the 40 and 50 degree days quite well, snuggled into our apartment and enjoying the blast of air whenever we go outside. I've even got to like that kind of cold chill when I run or walk in that 'brisk' air. But anything below that sends me scrambling to the internet to search for our next home in a tropical paradise.

I think thats why the city seems to have unwrapped itself with the return of warm weather. My wife has taken to walking the 2-3 miles home from her Times Square job in the evenings and when we time it just right I can meet her at the Great Lawn in Central Park with our dog. The view from the north side of a walk around the Great Lawn is fantastic in the early evenings of spring. The grass, untouched all winter while the Park's department does its thing, spreads out before you and seems to melt into the trees and the skyline.

A few lucky days I've been able to ride my bike into work and the Riverside Park foliage has been just as breathtaking. The mix of parks, ships and river views are always fun and on pleasant days that crowds are lining the bike paths to share that view. The rest of the scene is distracting enough to forget for a moment that across the river lies the wasteland known as New Jersey.

I am starting to get quite eager for the summer schedule again. Last summer we only sampled the available activities here with my wife doing yoga in Times Square and both of us taking in free movies in the parks. I am ready for margaritas at the boat basin cafe overlooking the Hudson River and parts of Broadway shutting down to cars. Bring on the heat.

The Lights

As the blog has been deserted while I enjoy the first whisperings of spring, I am making a promise here and now to start spending some time here again. At the end of the month my lovely wife and I head across the Atlantic to take in the many shades of green in Ireland. I promise pictures and memories and long wistful posts rambling on beauty of the Irish coast. Check back in soon. I'll see you soon.

A new discovery

As this blog is titled "Lessons in Extended Tourism" I thought it might be appropriate to share one of my most recently learned lessons. Never, under any circumstances, withdraw funds from a shady looking ATM outside a convenience store in Chinatown. Ignore the lack of dollars inside your own pockets and the appetizing views inside the Dim Sum restaurant your colleagues take you to on your birthday. And if you can stomach to ignore the ice cream parlour next door with odors of strawberry drifting towards your nose. Dumplings don't go all that well with ice cream anyways but neither goes well with someone copying your debit card.

Thankfully I caught it before they spent more than 40 dollars but these are the lessons I have to offer.

The Paris

We are back in the comfort of h0me after a packed Christmas of seeing family and friends in the Lone Star state. Snow was pouring from the sky when we left but Texas was a toasty 70 degrees for most of the trip.

The other night we took in one of my favorite places in the city outside the parks. Tucked behind the Plaza hotel entrance on 58th and a giant glowing Apple rising from the cement (Apple's flagship store on 5th ave) is the Paris Theatre, home to some of the oddest movies available in the city.

It has just the single screen with a small mezzanine of aging blue chairs overlooking the main floor. All candies and other goodies are in the lobby downstairs of the main entrance. The views are spectacular and there is just something in the air that kind of sparkles as you come in. A hint of something old that I imagine large theaters as having always been missing.

Where I typically take in movies at the AMC gigantoplex on 68th and Broadway (step on it sucka! (see if you catch that reference)) which is a palace to movies the Paris is a different kind of special. I can plop my shoes up onto the mezzanine's railing and people watch through the previews as the rest of the patrons file into the main floor. I can see great odd movies like Lars and the Real Girl and a month later see the worst movie ever made entitled Youth Without Youth.

That day's picture was The Reader and it resulted in another successful trip to the cinema. It was another reminder that I should check what is playing at the Paris more often.

Winter is coming

We had the first smattering of snow last weekend. My wife had been anticipating, wishing for and dreaming of the official start of winter (never mind the 30 degrees temperatures and deathly chill of the wind hitting your bones). Experiencing the change of seasons is something new to both of us and while we were both here to usher in the cold last year the transition came so smoothly this time. The temperature had been steadily dropping until we were happily spending our weekends cocooned in the warmth of our apartment, sneaking out into the cold for brisk reminders that yes we do live in the North and watching the dog's beard blow back into a triangle of fur as we press into the wind.

It is an altogethor different winter experience in the south. Last year the snow and cold and soul sucking darkness seemed to appear as if from no where. I would leave for the cold shores of Jersey City each morning to wrap myself in programming and web service documentation before escaping back home to the cold and darkness. It felt like much of my day was spent in an envelope of darkness but this year has been altogether different.

We've both been in and about the city throughout nature's turning point instead of trapped inside cube walls and office buildings. Having a job that allows for an outside life this year has allowed me to notice and appreciate the world changing around me.

Of the three beings in the house our dog has taken to the changing seasons the best. She flops about joyously and tugs to catch dogs far ahead whenever we leave the house. While not unusual for a dog to be happy to escape den I can almost make out a smile on her face as she shimmies up to random street occupants.

Merry Christmas Everyone.