NYC as observed through a dusty venetian…

Now that I’ve arrived home safe and sound, I’d like to take this moment to share some anthropological observations about New Yorkers and their extraordinary city.
I’d normally apologise in advance for any latent or overt prejudice in the next few paragraphs, but frankly, I can’t be bothered. 

If you’re easily offended, you shouldn’t be reading this blog in the first place…

1.    The New York City subway is brilliant. Cheap, safe and easy to use, the carriages are remarkably free of graffiti and filth. Sure, you may want to coat your hands in sanitizer five times an hour, but a bit of bacteria won’t kill you. (Using a Myki Card in Melbourne, however, probably will).

Subway stations, tracks and platforms on the other hand, are feral – do not go expecting pink marble statuary sourced from the Urals, 1930s bronze sculptures or Art Deco chandeliers ala Moscow or St Petersburg. Far from it. These are decrepit and depressing. That they haven’t yet collapsed is nothing short of a miracle.

2.    African-American men in NYC will provide unsolicited compliments about one’s boots, leather-trimmed pants, leopard-print raincoats (“dey’s some f-i-i-i-ne boots you got dere”) etc. but will not help you if you ask for directions on the subway or in the street. Ever. Forget making eye-contact.

3.    The streets are numbered, not named, and designed as a grid, so there is no excuse for getting lost. You. Cannot. Get. Lost. In. NYC. No chance. As long as you are functionally numerate and know your points on a compass, you will never be far from your hotel or a subway stop. (NB: Red assures me things can get quite confusing south of 14th Street and around East/West Village – naming conventions change and sometimes repeat.)

4.    Tina Fey /30 Rock is a big fat liar. African-American women do not have crazy long talon-like fingernails. You lie, Tina Fey, you lie!!!!!!!!!!

5.    If you are a single/available man (or even a married one who likes to look/stray/perv) or a single/available lesbian, you will not be short of eye-candy or sexual choice in New York City. This town is a veritable smorgasbord of female youth and beauty, and explained the perennial shit-eating grin on Red K’s face every time I shared this observation with him. They are everywhere – confident, well-dressed, beautiful, aggressive, young (or at least young-looking) and open to all experiences. Violet Lounge described the women as ‘predatory’.

The ratio is something astonishing – 8 women to a man. Red knows this - indeed, every warm-blooded straight man with a fully-functioning penis knows this. So with great apologies to all wives, mistresses, ‘main squeezes’ and girlfriends out there - this is the dating mother lode for all men.

6.    There is no ‘Noo Yawk’ accent. If there was once, it has now been well and truly subsumed by the ethnic Babel-soup that is New York City in the 21st Century.

7.    You will not walk as much anywhere else as you will in New York City. No way.

8.    There is little to no good coffee there. The café au lait at Le Pain Quotidien comes close, and Buvette in West Village was good, but this is no Melbourne, people. Expect massive caffeine-flavoured disappointments.

9.    Wine and spirits shops in Manhattan are limited. Small, narrow in stock and range, there is nothing on the island to compare to Dan Murphy’s or even  supermarket-style BWS ala Woolworths. Tiffany and Red took me to a liquor store in York, Pennsylvania, which looked impressive on the outside but only sold copious quantities of beer, cider and some wine inside (including cooler-style mixed drinks).  My young companions explained that in Pennsylvania, spirits must be sold separately, according to their licensing laws. Also, it appears everyone gets pinged for ID when buying booze – be it in a bar, or club or store.  Not sure if this is cause for one to be flattered, insulted or annoyed by the inevitable request to flash ones passport…

10.  This town (indeed this country) is full of distractions.  One evening when we were out, I observed that if I lived in Manhattan I would be out every night and every day I wasn’t working, drinking up everything this vibrant city has to offer. Red (with that trademark amused expression he wears every time I open my mouth) assured me that while it’s easy to think that, there are SO MANY  distractions competing for your attention at any given minute, that even a high-energy novelty-seeker / culture-vulture like me might find it hard to focus and start to tire after a while.

It’s easy to say that when you’re holidaying but a vastly different experience when you’re working and living there. Sometimes it’s just equally important to sit on the proverbial futon, tune-out the noises and decompress. Point taken, Red. You are as wise as you are handsome.

There it is, folks, NYC as seen through the narrow slats of a dusty venetian blind. Hope it's been illuminating.

Farewell Gotham City...for now.

Greetings from Melbourne! An emotional reunion with Muddy Karpitz at Tullamarine followed by a quick cab ride home yesterday and a great night's sleep, and I'm finally ready to post the last update on my NYC travels. The memories are a little hazy, but I'll do my best to capture the events, sights, sounds and smells of the last week. Here goes:

Tuesday 9 April - Wandered through the southern end of Central Park and the Childrens' Zoo to the strains of some amazing saxophone playing by a couple of awesome Be-bop buskers. Central Park is lovely, but it ain't no Botanical Gardens and the jogging tracks ain't no 'Tan. Sorry, folks. Strolled across to Columbus Circle and the Time Warner Centre, taking in the underdressed crowds on what was shaping up to be an exceptionally hot and steamy day during New York's otherwise cold Spring.

After lunch, Iona and I took the subway to DUMBO (Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass), a sweet pocket of gentrified Brooklyn, right on the edge of the river, ahead of an early dinner at the amazing Vinegar Hill House (I can still taste the slow-cooked lamb neck with fetta and white beans lovingly prepared in this gorgeous hipster restaurant) followed by a basketball game at Barclays Centre (Brooklyn Nets v Philadelphia 76ers). The game was great fun, less for the sport (and the perennial, annoying time-outs) and more for the carnival atmosphere.

The black-and-white clad cheerleaders dancing/gyrating with nunchucks at half-time was a cool touch.

Wednesday 10 April - Farewelled Iona Chef as she departed for Portland, Oregon. She was an excellent travelling companion and her knowledge of New York's punk scene was astonishing - I missed her instantly. Ran some errands, did some souvenir shopping, then got ready for cocktails and pre-dinner at the Lambs Club, a gorgeous Art Deco hotel bar in the Theatre District, with Red K and an ex-colleague of mine who is living and working in NYC - Violet Lounge. It was a lovely catchup with someone I hadn't seen for a long time and it turns out Violet and Red (who'd not met before) share some mutual acquaintances from their uni days. Nice to still be a 'people conduit' so far from home.

I then had the pleasure of seeing Alec Baldwin on stage in Orphans. He's still got it, and his younger, less-known co-stars were impressive, even if the play itself felt a little dated...

Thursday 11 April - Caught a New Jersey Transit train to Princeton University to see Revealing the African Presence in Renaissance Europe, an eye-opening exibition of paintings, artefacts and sculptures which, when pieced together, told a mostly unknown story of the presence (and influence) of Africans (slaves, servants, traders, diplomats, tribal and religious leaders, both Muslim and Christian) in Europe from 1400-1600.

Mooched around campus, soaking up the cool, mildly superior Ivy-League charm of the place. The trip to Jersey and back was seamless and quick, leaving me time to have a nap before meeting Red at his work on Wall Street in the early evening. We went to dinner at Momofuku Noodle Bar (sublime pork buns, delicious beef carpaccio and excellent pork ramen washed down with a fruity locally brewed ale) and then Red took me to a nearby speakeasy for post-dinner cocktails. A cosy spot nestled above a Chinese restaurant - very New York, yet also very Melbourne too...

Friday 12 April - Did some grocery shopping at the Food Emporium on East 59th Street for a stay-in dinner as I'd promised Red a home-cooked meal as a thank-you for his hospitality, tour guide and chaperoning activities. Packed my suitcases, fired off a few last-minute emails and did my last laundry pickup before cooking up a batch of Moroccan meatballs for us to enjoy in front of the Yankees game. It was actually a relief to stay in and be a couch potato for the first time in two weeks.

Saturday 13 April - Departure day. Helped Red with some domestic errands/chores, imparted some decorating tips for his cool Upper East Side 'pad' and paid a final visit to his local Bed, Bath and Beyond, a homewares supply store that leaves our Bed Bath and Table, Minimax and House stores in the shade. The subway/AirTrain trip to JFK Airport was relatively smooth and painless. A breezy check-in, a farewell bear-hug from Red K and I was on my way home.

It was an amazing holiday and a truly extraordinary experience. Now that I've safely cleared US immigration/homeland, I promise to share a few more observations, some anthropological discoveries, and maybe even a spot of inappropriate people profiling over the coming days. Stay tuned...

Farewell New York City, you crazy, beautiful, noisy town. See you again with Muddy next year. 

Back in Gotham

Welcome back to NYC people. Nice to be inhaling the tangy, steamy, urine-soaked air of this wonderful, crazy vibrant city after the almost-but-not-quite bucolic TinyTown of Dover, PA (the home of one of America's first serious attempts to have Intelligent Design taught in state schools - as legitimate science. As Billy Shakespeare no doubt said, I kiddest thou not).

To be fair to Dover, PA, it does have a kick-arse Walmart and TJ Maxx and I met a group of lovely people - friends of T. Lamp and Red K - whom I would be proud to call my posse. This was a necessary, but enjoyable detour on the way back to NY after Pittsburgh.

Today took me and Iona Chef to the wilds of the Village (and Soho, Nolita and Chelsea) for some more punk-related history. We snapped "Joey Ramone Place". We stumbled across Russ and Daughters, a gorgeous old-style deli featured in Season Three of Louie. We bought cheap DVDs at the indie cinema on East Houston Street. I bought cheap fishnet tights from the Bettie Page store and we snapped the exterior of the Chelsea Hotel (closed for repairs, Arrrghhhh....). We visited Eataly, the largest Italian food emporium in the world, nay, the fucking universe, and all the parallel ones that exist alongside this one...

I managed to squeeze in a trip to Roosevelt Island on the cable car/tram. The views are incredible, even if the trip feels a little scary.

Dinner was a burger at Shake Shack and dessert a delicious Scottish Highland 21 year old single malt from the Wemyss distillery/estate. Gorgeous. The staff at Tribeca's Brandy Library know their stuff.

Basketball with Iona Chef tomorrow night. Go Brooklyn!!!

"Michael, we're bigger than US Steel" (Plus a special THX to Red K and Tiffany Lamp)

Folks, apologies for my tardiness, but it's been a crazy few days in New York and Pittsburgh. Forgive the brevity of my prose, but I am short on time and internet facilities where I am staying so therefore short on style (and links and detail and shit)...

Recap: Wednesday 3 April in NY - The Metropolitan Museum of Art (AKA The Met) took up most of my day. And yet, neither Iona Chef nor I feel like we've scratched the surface of that amazing place. By 4pm, it felt like we'd done the art/history equivalent of eat a ten-course degustation menu with wine matching and were ready to go home and sleep off the stomach pump. And yet, off we went to Les Halles for dinner, then an off-broadway show - Avenue Q - which was hysterical. I had been meaning to see it for ages, and I finally did. A scream!

Thursday 4 April in NY - Shopping at Century 21 in the Financial District. Scored some handbags, sunnies for me and Muddy, a wallet and a lovely wool jumper. Noice. Then an early night in preparation for the pre-dawn departure for Pittsburgh PA.

Friday 5 April - NY/Pittsburgh -  a rented car ride through the dark streets of NY and its outer boroughs to LaGuardia Airport. Fairly seamless check-in and security scan (all pretty efficient - removing the shoes, however, is annoying) followed by a yummy breakfast and on-time boarding and departure. The Delta Airlines flight was comfy and very civilised.

Arrival in Pittsburgh was also painless and stress-free - the Airport bus took me almost to my door (Courtyard at the Marriot) for the princely sum of $3.75. The hotel is lovely and well located in the Cultural District (Pittsburgh, like Cleveland and other depressed Rust Belt towns is desperate to reinvent itself as a cultural town - every spare space is a museum, convention centre or dedicated historical site - nice try, Pittsburgh, but no cigar).

Andrew Carnegie (US Steel) was a robber baron philanthropist of the first order but there's nothing here that comes half-way close to the cultural sites/pursuits/public spaces of NYC.

Having said that, I had a lovely time yesterday, walking across the Andy Warhol Bridge to visit the Andy Warhol Museum. AW, Pittsburgh's greatest artistic export, is adoringly displayed in this museum which houses his collection, his personal archive (including his 'time capsules') and is currently exhibiting works of others who were greatly influenced by him. The current exhibition is narrated by trash director John Waters on the in-house audio tour - most apt.

An afternoon cable car ride up the Duquesne Incline took me to Mt Washington, and some of the best views of Pittsburgh, or indeed any city for $5. Wow. Some good snaps to show for it.

But the highlight of Pittsburgh was the surprise last minute ticket I won in a 'box office lottery' to see "Book of Mormon", the hit Broadway musical by Matt Stone and Trey Parker which is touring nationally. Awse. $25 and I got a front-row seat next to the orchestra pit. Woohoo! Like all of their musical works, it was sooooo wrong. Crude, rude, lewd and bloody hysterical. Almost as funny as the geeks and freaks who are staying in town for the Star Wars/Trek convention.

This morning was the pilgrimage to the home/estate known as Fallingwater, the weekend retreat once owned by the Kaufmans (wealthy Pittsburghers whose department store eventually became Macy's) and the jewel in American architect Frank Lloyd Wright's design crown. I was a little nervous and tentative - what if it disappoints? Fortunately, it didn't.

It was, truly, to use the tour guide Marjorie's oft-repeated word - spectacular. Oh my. A house built over a waterfall, during the Depression, designed by a man, who at that stage in his career, was on the nose, in a remote and difficult location. Breathtaking. And typical FLW, the interior furnishings are as striking as its exterior. An adolescent wish come true. Thanks to Slim Venetian for leaving her Art History books lying around when I was a child...

Red Karpitz and Tiffany Lamp, my trusty chauffeurs / navigators / companions got us there promptly and safely. A quick lunch and tour of the gift shop, and then we were off to Kentuck Knob, another (lesser, later and smaller, but still quietly impressive) FLW commission less than 10 miles away.

Back at the hotel now, it's getting on evening as I tap this out in the hotel's Business Centre, while Tiff and Red rest and recuperate upstairs. Plan is to take them out to a special dinner for helping make this special day happen.

"No sleep 'til...Brooklyn!!!"

Day Two of Iona and Dusty's excellent New York adventure is at an end so it's time for a re-cap.

Yesterday's MOMA sojourn was utterly bloody amazing. All those Klees, Picassos, Mondrians and Kandinskys (not to mention the Munchs, Van Goghs and Miros) were enough to make even my art-nerd head spin. The special Bill Brandt exhibition was the proverbial icing on the cake. A chickpea salad at the MOMA cafe and a side-trip to the store was the cap-off to an extraordinary experience.

Iona Chef arrived at Pod51 as scheduled, and after a quick laundry drop (shout out to Symphony 59, the best value drop off/pick up service in Midtown), we wandered down to the Theatre District for a Shake Shack burger and frozen custard followed by a stroll back via the Rockefeller Centre - basically, a re-hash of my first night on the town with Red K. Not a bad way to experience Midtown on one's first night in NY.

Today was an altogether different experience of New York. A subway ride to West Village took us to Buvette's, a chic little cafe recommended by Torn Karpitz, that does amazing food in small, but beautifully served packages. Steam-scrambled eggs, delicious coffee and pastries are just some of the scrumptious morsels on offer. The OJ is real, freshly squeezed (with pips) and served in tiny beakers. The service is attentive, the patrons so very very stylish, and the mood warm and cosy. Iona went with oats and I had the scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. Two coffees each. Yummy.

We walked to the Highline, a public park-come-walking trail-urban garden built on the old raised freight train line that once serviced the Meatpacking district. The Highline is lined with ornamental grasses, holly bushes and shrubs, dotted with the odd bit of urban 'street art'. It's a long, but easy walk, and there are ample Village/Chelsea/Hudson River photo opportunities because of the elevation.

We then wandered to Chelsea Market, which was a delight. Books, spices, veggies, flowers, artisanal bread, outrageous cupcakes, homewares and take-away food outlets - White People Heaven basically.

There was even an Anthropologie store...

After an hour mooching around buying books (books here are CHEAP, people!) and soaking up the atmosphere, we caught the subway to Little Italy and Chinatown.

Iona got her music history fix by snapping the Bowery Ballroom after which we sauntered through Little Italy (Mulberry and Mott Streets is pretty much it - I suspect the real Italian Noo Yawk experience  is likely to be found somewhere in Jersey or Long Island) and Chinatown (AKA Abbotsford in NY) before heading back to Pod51.

The night ended with a trip on the Staten Island Ferry (yes, the Statue of Liberty looks fabulous lit up at night), an ice-cold Blue Moon blonde beer, followed by some dude food in Williamsburg (Brooklyn). Next trip to Brooklyn will have to be in daylight though...    

Tomorrow, The Met, dinner at Les Halles and an off-Broadway show.

Nighty Night.

New York, New York

Loved ones, last post before I vacate my single room with ensuite and move into my double-bunk deal ahead of Iona Chef's arrival.

Yesterday I officially landed my first US shopping bargain, having picked up five sweet Spring items from Loft on Madison Avenue for $117. Noice. Clothes in stores are mostly Spring and early Summer items so I have been advised to hit Century 21 (NYC's DFO) for Winter gear and accessories. Until then, I will bask in my bargain glow...

Afternoon tea at the Russian Tea Room was nice, but not great. Yes, it was fabulous to sit in the banquette where Dustin Hoffmann's Dorothy Michaels taunts and teases his hapless agent in Tootsie and F Murray Abraham's eccentric Hungarian interrogates the gormless Louie CK in Season Three's Louie.

Yes, it was fabulous to sit under Erte and Tamara De Lempicka prints and soak up the Faberge Egg-like decor of the place, but frankly, folks, we do better high teas at home. The food was plentiful and nice - savouries followed by sweets - and a doggie-bag was offered for items uneaten, but tea bag tea? And I shouldn't have to ask for milk twice. I know Russians drink their tea black and love to suck it through a sugar cube poised between their lips, but that's why I ordered English Breakfast tea. Besides, I don't take sugar.

Couple of other observations before I sign off: Central park is HUGE, and I mean HUGE - will need a good day to see it properly; first and thus far only take-away latte was disgusting - Barista lessons for the girl in TreeHaus please; the eye-candy around the place is distracting - hotness galore - or maybe I'm just missing Muddy K too much, or maybe statistically, it was bound to happen given the number of warm bodies squashed on this tiny island.

Spending all day today at MOMA, then taking Iona Chef out for dinner and a subway ride. Tomorrow, Highline and brunch/lunch at Buvette's in the Village.

Signing out.