Off Again

We're off to NYC again for some opera, etc., and who would have guessed we'd get an almost picture-perfect evening, with temperatures in the 60s and a mellow breeze.  And I am happy to report that Mishima is still churning out topnotch sashimi.

New York Manners

Quoted from a book of aphorisms published in a previous generation,  I find:

A car is useless in New York, essential everywhere else. The same with good manners.

Cute but not so, right?  Or at least seriously outmoded.  I live about as far from New York as it's possible to get inside the United States but I'm in there a couple of times a year and I find them quite easy to get along with.  They're high-energy and brusque but they're predictable and often fair-minded. Hell, they even queue (part about the car is still true, though).  Or am I romanticizing?

My friend Ignoto, whose natural venue is 14th Street, observes:

I  think we have a different relationship with time.When I moved to Florida I went to buy the paper at the local drugstore, and there was a customer in conversation with the clerk.  I had exact change, so I put it on the counter, held the paper up to show the clerk what I was taking, and went on my way.   "What's the matter, you in a hurry?" she snarled, clearly offended.  All I was doing was saving us time and avoiding having to hurry her customer.

Sounds right to me.   On the other hand, since he mentions store clerks, I will make an exception to my New York rule for clerks at d'Agostino's.  Way I see it, there were all trained at the retail academy of the Soviet Union.

 

A Few Pips from the Big Apple

Spring Break always comes too late at the Law School: the students are brain dead by this time, and so am I. We took the occasion to decamp for a quick jolt of New York City culture. We're now back, suitably refreshed. I want to jot down a few thoughts in due course, but meanwhile here is some loose change:

• Dignified lady parading a matched set of Scotch Terriers, wearing, a matched set of plaid snuggies. Did she gives the dogs the snuggies for their birthday?

• Some guy, on why he only buys single-ride Metro tickets: a multi-ride ticket “takes up too much space in your wallet."

• One change at United Airlines check-in as a result of charging for baggage: slower service. Now, in addition to processing all the bags, they have to process the credit card transactions.

• Does this sentence make any sense: Drinks are not permitted to be carried back to seats.

• The signature plaque at the Philharmonic: Avery Fisher—Wise, Elegant, Gentle, Caring. On my music hall, I just want “scholar and saint.”

[Oh, and the “fritelle” on the dessert menu at Union Square Cafe are in truth a bunch of donut holes.]

Lifestyles of the Rich and Strapped

I see that the most emailed story at the NY Times website at the moment is the one about how tough is to live on $500,000 a year. I am as willing as the next guy to enjoy another's suffering but what fascinates me is the stuff about the support staff. I am lucky enough to get to spend a bit of time in New York (and you have my assurance that I am not kicking back 500k); idling way my time, it's always fascinating to wonder how those folks on the subway hold it together.

I suspect the answer is a lot of juggling, a lot of double-income households, and a lot of fiddles: a profitable side-job here, a bit of twilight gravy there. Anyway, I naturally gravitate to the bits about the Nanny at $45k (plus some perks and perhaps a bit of gratuitous nastiness); or even more, the ex-cops who work as muscle drivers for the powerful. Makes me remember Chris Rock's bit about the "wealthy" versus the "rich"--the guy who brings Shaq his paycheck at the end of the game is "wealthy," but Shaq is "rich" (and so, I am sure, is Chris Rock). Reconfirms an ancient principle: one way to make money--not the best, but a way--is to get close to someone with money. Feed the sparrows by feeding the horse.

Geographic Puzzle: The author speaks of "a certain neighborhood west of Third Avenue." Uh, and (I assume) east of Central Park? The Port Authority Bus Station is west of Third Avenue. So, come to think of it, is Palookaville.

Afterthought: Wonder how much they budget for charity, oh yuk yuk.

Walker's Paradise

I suppose the only reason to create a list like this one is to start an argument, but on the whole, I'd say that this particular instance is actually pretty anodyne. Still, if the second best walk in San Francisco is the Financial District, we are on notice with a scandalous truth--that is: San Francisco, whatever its charms, is not that-all great a walker's city. Okay: some of the neighborhoods have their charm, but they tend to be isolated, a bit hard to access, and on the whole not as exciting or charming as you might guess for all the hype (and let's not talk about hills). Market Street is a slum, and if you must have a slum, there is a far more interesting slum on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley across the Bay (even without Cody's). Indeed, it's hard to think of any American city--okay, I will grant you Manhattan--that has the persistent seductive appeal of Rome (my #1) or Paris (#2) or Prague (#3) or Florence (#4)--at least if you find those moments when they are not inundated with others such as yourself trying to enjoy their walker-charms.

Nice to see Portland so justly well represented, although I never realized before that this is called "Hosford" (if it is). Years ago, one of my students (an ex-Reedie) pointed out that Portland was one of the best cities in America to be poor in. After the depredations of a generation of high-tech wealth, this insight surely isn't as true as it used to be. Still, I'd say Portland persists in conveying more in the way of scruffy, grass-roots elegance than any other city in America.