About a week ago, I took a kid up to Brooklyn for lunch to my favorite place, The Salty Dog. The plan was then to go to Fao Schwartz, Central Park and Little Italy, ending back for supper at The Salty Dog.
But I was warned, which usually never stops me. A friend told me about the new lanes for bikes and Mayor Bloombergs lane changes. Now I've been to New York plenty of times and drove in the city, but this trip blew me away. It wasn't just that bikes were metered and parked at angles but lanes added to an already over crowded city filled with traffic, horns blasting, pedestrians trying to cross, buses moving and business trucks weaving in and out and double parking.
Cops are scattered everywhere, ready for anything. I weave in and out of side streets, avenues thinking I'll find one street free to let me pass on up to FAO, that toy store I love to visit and dance on the piano. It took half an hour to get down one street only to turn onto fifth avenue and see a media blitz because of APPLE and FAO also having some big deal happening. Not only could I not park, but I had to now find restrooms. That was easier. Just pretend you're going into a restaurant, ask for menu's and for restrooms. Have your guest sit and look at the menu, then as you are about to leave simply say, I'm sorry, he isn't feeling well, have to leave. Worked fine-all three times.
Yes, I found a few odd parking spaces, and since I only needed them for a few minutes, no one was bothered by where and how I parked.
So off to Little Italy and lo and behold they were having the feast of St. Genaro. It used to be great years ago, but now it's all blown up prices, tents in the streets, greasy foods and a waste of time. Oh, also a good place to meet pick pockets.
Well we walked one block and I told the kid, let's go to Brooklyn. Yea, home. I drove on the BQE back and right to the sixty-ninth street pier, took some pictures and introduced the kid to some fishermen. Trying to get this kid to just say hello wasn't so easy as he worried the fishermen might think he was stalking them. He's never been to Brooklyn before. So I said, hey guys, can I ask you to meet someone, and it took off from there. They were so friendly, talked fish, laughed, and him where he was from and told me I was nuts to drive in the city.
I had one more stop to make. I wanted some knishes so bad I could taste it. Yet it wasn't to be. Not enough time to go where I knew to go, but we did stop in a small corner grocery store, bought some ginger ale and squashed in the outside corner was a book stand of used and cheap books. This kid was in his own happy world buying books and as I stood there and waited I looked across the street and suddenly really looked. The front door didn't look familiar as it was painted a tan color, but then I saw the number. I looked up at the corner street sign and back at the apartment building's number.
My son was born there, his first home. That made this trip complete for me. What a way to end the day.
But I was warned, which usually never stops me. A friend told me about the new lanes for bikes and Mayor Bloombergs lane changes. Now I've been to New York plenty of times and drove in the city, but this trip blew me away. It wasn't just that bikes were metered and parked at angles but lanes added to an already over crowded city filled with traffic, horns blasting, pedestrians trying to cross, buses moving and business trucks weaving in and out and double parking.
Cops are scattered everywhere, ready for anything. I weave in and out of side streets, avenues thinking I'll find one street free to let me pass on up to FAO, that toy store I love to visit and dance on the piano. It took half an hour to get down one street only to turn onto fifth avenue and see a media blitz because of APPLE and FAO also having some big deal happening. Not only could I not park, but I had to now find restrooms. That was easier. Just pretend you're going into a restaurant, ask for menu's and for restrooms. Have your guest sit and look at the menu, then as you are about to leave simply say, I'm sorry, he isn't feeling well, have to leave. Worked fine-all three times.
Yes, I found a few odd parking spaces, and since I only needed them for a few minutes, no one was bothered by where and how I parked.
So off to Little Italy and lo and behold they were having the feast of St. Genaro. It used to be great years ago, but now it's all blown up prices, tents in the streets, greasy foods and a waste of time. Oh, also a good place to meet pick pockets.
Well we walked one block and I told the kid, let's go to Brooklyn. Yea, home. I drove on the BQE back and right to the sixty-ninth street pier, took some pictures and introduced the kid to some fishermen. Trying to get this kid to just say hello wasn't so easy as he worried the fishermen might think he was stalking them. He's never been to Brooklyn before. So I said, hey guys, can I ask you to meet someone, and it took off from there. They were so friendly, talked fish, laughed, and him where he was from and told me I was nuts to drive in the city.
I had one more stop to make. I wanted some knishes so bad I could taste it. Yet it wasn't to be. Not enough time to go where I knew to go, but we did stop in a small corner grocery store, bought some ginger ale and squashed in the outside corner was a book stand of used and cheap books. This kid was in his own happy world buying books and as I stood there and waited I looked across the street and suddenly really looked. The front door didn't look familiar as it was painted a tan color, but then I saw the number. I looked up at the corner street sign and back at the apartment building's number.
My son was born there, his first home. That made this trip complete for me. What a way to end the day.
