Visiting New York City

New York, like any world city, is a concentration of wealth and ambition.  It is also, by historic standards, a marker of civilization, for wherever there is specialized human civilization there have been cities.  In a way, New York was the first of the modern cities, not built upon ruins of the past nor a gradual expansion of an ancient trading center, but springing up almost whole-cloth from the bedrock.  It is no longer the city with the most, if it ever was, and is certainly not the biggest, but nonetheless New York, like any modern city, is impressive.  And with its energy and power, still relevant to the world.

Certainly its inhabitants would all have us think so, for they think of themselves as smart, aggressive and rich or soon-to-be rich.  There are great successes, of course, but even those of lesser station consider themselves in an elite.  The street vendors, the drug dealers, the simple flaneurs totally accept that they are the best at what they do and, by world standards, they are elite.  You can easily separate the natives from the tourists in the parks and streets by their attitude, which is friendly but always somewhat condescending, and always in a hurry.

Physically, New York is a great pile of achievement, history compounded in stone, metal and glass.  On every block there are vast stories of futures dreamed and accomplished and lost.  Every step is a unique stunning view, and for those who take the time, every thought is connected and everything ties together in a humanistic saga.

For those not part of the city itself, it is best appreciated as a tourist.  But not the typical tourist, marking checks in a “must see” death race, but rather a tourist from another time, or a different planet, or a far dimension.  The proper approach is to look around and up and down and gawk, marvel, observe, and absorb the energy.  This is the true human ecology.  This is sociology in action.  This is what humans are really all about.

For example, imagine the Olympian and Roman Gods on holiday, perhaps led around by Hermes (waving a flag or newspaper in the air to keep them together), dressed in togas and jabbering in archaic Greek.  They would scarcely be noticed, of course.  Zeus would be stunned at the power and confusion of Times Square, Dianna would be floored by the exhibits at the Natural History Museum, Venus would weep at the beauty on display at the Metropolitan.  Hades, of course, would be ecstatic over the subway, and especially enthralled by the Penn Station LIRR terminal.  Like all older people, they would see that their time had passed, and they would be overwhelmed by the changes.

Of course they, and everyone, knows that humans move in cycles, and that everything constructed is due for destruction, that cycles will occur.  Life itself is transient, as are humans, as are their cities.  Palmyra, Xanadu, Tenochtitlan are no more as they were, in time New York will join them in ruin, perhaps submerged under the rising seas.  All achievement is folly, insist the critics of progress.  There is only cosmic emptiness all about, in the long run it is all vanity.  We should not be fooled by the lovely parks, high bridges, and engineering marvels, for someday they too will be dust again. 

But this day, right now (which is what really is for anyone) is glorious, proud, energized and happy.  Visit New York in a proper frame of mind and it is easy to develop empathy for everyone, and to fall into dreams which hope for a wonderful future.  Yes, a kind of love of being able to experience everything.  That is a very human response to the fantastic signals from a very human saga.
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I lived in a variety of cities before finally settling down in the Long Island suburbs.   And of course we’ve done our share of vacation time in various cities here and there.  Our home is within rail commuting distance of Manhattan, so I periodically took the kids in to visit and get a taste of the big time, and also kept my own interests tuned with occasional visits.  For my money, there is no amusement park thrill ride as grand as the subway, where a potential attack by a madman (not some fake funhouse apparition) always lends a frisson of danger, and the rats and the dirt are thrillingly real.

Since I retired I have tried to make it a few times a month or so, sometimes with a plan to see an art exhibit or some special attraction, but often just to roam the streets and try to actually see things I have never seen before.  It’s amazing how much I missed over the years, hurrying by buildings that I can now take a minute or two to actually look at.  The sheer scale of the changes over time, and the grand possibilities added by knowing the history of a site more deeply, are breathtaking.

But mostly, I like to go to feed off the energy.  I enjoy watching the purposeful stride of ambition, the optimism of everyone (even though it is often reflected only in the tension on their faces as they scurry on to their next hopeful assignation).  Above all, it is a city for the young, for those who are young and who think they are young.  And to visit is to drink, al little, from the fountain of youth for a short time.  I come away with plans and hopes of my own (although I admit they now usually drain away on the train ride home.)

For my money, it’s a blessing to live near a world city, to be in a small way affected by its rhythms, to inhabit a strange zone somewhere between inhabitant and tourist.  When I get tired or bored or depressed I can always get a quick fix with a day trip.  My wife thinks it is crowded, and noisy, and dirty, and she is right.  But it is also so much else, that the wonder far overbalances the hassle.  I hope that cities like this remain so for a long time to come.

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New York glorious proud and bold,
I saw the number 5 in gold
River parks, fantastic views,
Special landmarks old and new
People rushing, tourists stare
Stranded here while going there
It’s all been said, it’s all been done
Yet still unique to everyone
I come to visit, not to stay,
An older fellow, in the way
Quite happy in my minor part
Participating in the art
That countless other humans prized
The essence of what’s civilized.
NYC
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The main reason to travel has always been to open your mind, to become aware that the way that you live and what you do and think is not the only way to live, do, and think.  That is possible even by visiting a strange place (to you) in your community, of course, but often it takes the shock of the really strange and the loss of the familiar to allow you to be fully aware of the differences in people.

The first thing you always find on a visit to somewhere exotic is that the people there are not stereotypes.  Everyone in Manhattan is not like the movie stars (although some are) and everyone else is not involved one way or another in crime and drugs (although some are.)  The millions of people going about their business are, in fact, one person at a time getting through moments one at a time just as you are.  Having a good day, or a bad day, or just another day.  Needing to eat, and pee, and get on with whatever needs to be gotten on with.

You have a right to gawk as a tourist, in New York or anywhere else, because you will not fit in unless you actually inhabit a place for a while.  There is, fortunately, a large niche reserved in most cities for tourists, who bring lots of money and few ongoing unresolvable problems, unlike many of the permanent residents.  The government and businesses are happy to accept your money, and may even show it. 

And there is, actually, a lot to gawk at in a big city, not least of which is that it can exist for more than one day.  The complexity of the entire operation is overwhelming, when you think about sewers and food deliveries and garbage pickups and how and why these folks manage to keep getting along and don’t run (mostly) screaming into the night.  So let yourself go, take some screen shots, taste something different, and just enjoy the rush.  It’s your century, your time, and who knows if anyone else anywhen else will ever have the same opportunities you have.
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World cities represent civilization in its most refined and purest form.  An extraterrestrial anthropologist would no doubt discover that the most urbanized cultures are the most powerful, and in many perspectives all of human activities _ mining raw materials, growing food, industrial production, transporting goods, disposing of waste, not to mention intangibles like entertainment  and intellectual achievement _ either happen in cities or for cities by the rest of the globe. 

Even primitive man, we assume, clumped together as societies of tribes _ people are not solitary creatures and cannot grow in the wild after birth as such.  The rise of the million person metropolis is extremely recent, but simply a continuation of all trends since the discovery of agriculture ten thousand or so years ago.  Pretending everyone “really” wants to live close to the land and dispersed into small groups goes against every actual historical example during that time _ from Babylon and before, the bulk of civilized population was either flocking to cities or clustered around them.

Now a case can probably be made that civilization is awful, and we are happier living short active adventurous lives with disease and crippling injury (not to mention old age at thirty five or so) just part of the spice of existence.  From the evidence, that seems to be a desire isolated to a few prophets and their cultish audiences _ almost always young, healthy, and relatively isolated from the core of civilized being.  But for most of us, a city is a wonderful thing, and honestly day after day an urban lifestyle with  all its conveniences, attractions, and serendipity is far more desirable than growing corn and beans in the same old meadow trying to beat the winter and fight off the insect pests.  Even those in the rural areas are happy enough to have electricity, internet, and highway access to world trade goods.

New York City represents all of that to an ultimate degree.  The crowds are a concentration of many groups, many languages, many cultures and subcultures, even many virtual tribes, working together if not harmoniously at least in common tolerance.  And what results is by any stretch of the imagination magnificent.

Try some time to put yourself in the mind of that cosmic explorer, seeing the networks, the sewers, the roads, the traffic, the buildings, the parks, the conversations _ everything_ for the first time with clear senses.  Imagine the imaginings of the individuals who constructed it and continue to keep it going and make it even more. New York is a wonder of the universe, and one of our ultimate claims to represent something new and marvelous in the vast sweep of the universe.

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Jay, the New York City rat, hopped a ride on a produce truck one evening to visit his cousin Heather on Long Island.  She had long told him about the peace and quiet, the lovely grounds, the open space, a life away from the _ pardon the term _ rat race where he spent his days.  He met her around ten at night at the end of the driveway. 

It was indeed quite hushed, with the wind in the leaves , stars above, the perfume of flowers all around.  Jay asked “Ok, I’m here.  What do we do first?”

Heather said “Well, let’s get out of sight here, we’ll go over to my place under the shed in the back, and then we can think about dinner.”

“What do you mean, think about dinner?  Don’t you have any humans out here?  There must be a garbage bag or throwaway container somewhere.”

“Well, actually, not so much,” admitted Heather.  “It can be something of a problem, especially on non-pickup days.  They keep the trash in really tight containers, and a lot of time it’s in the house until the last minute.”

“Well, we just need to go into the basement and find it.”

“No, no!” Heather exclaimed.  “If they ever see us they call the exterminator right away and the exterminators out here are really ferocious.  We can make do with leftovers and fruit. My stash is still probably good, if the raccoons haven’t found it.”

“Raccoons?  You need to fight with raccoons for food?”  Jay was less and less entranced by the prospect of a week out here.  “Anything else I should know?”

“Well, on days when they put it out we might run into a dog…”

“Good God, Heather, you mean the humans don’t keep them in their apartments or on a leash like civilized people?”

“Not always,” she muttered apologetically.  “Oh, and of course there are always the cats roaming around and a few hawks now and then.  Surely you have nuisances, too”

“Not so much.  There’s a few falcons, but they prefer pigeons and squirrels.  Humans sometimes put down poisoned bait, but that’s for chumps.  If we don’t bother them, they don’t bother us, so we try to stay out of sight, except for the crazies.  And there’s ALWAYS food, everywhere, all the time, some of it still hot.  I hope you’re still planning to visit on a feast day like New Year’s or the Fourth.”

They spent a nice conversational evening, listening to the owls (another problem) and remembering old times.  Day was just breaking when Jay was awakened by the loudest blasts he had ever heard, even when he had lived down near that building site on 32^nd.  “What the hell is that!” he yelled.

“Oh, just the lawn crews mowing and blowing and scraping and whatever.  No, wait, that one might be a delivery truck for the kitchen redo down the street.  I KNOW you have a lot of noise where you are.”

“Yeah,” Jay admitted, “but it’s muffled in the tunnels.  This is insane.  Well, fair enough, where do we go and what do we do?”  He was ready for relaxation on vacation.

“Um, well, it’s mostly the yard here, if we’re careful not to be seen by the kids or the hawks or the cats or the dogs.  But the yard is magnificent, isn’t it?  Look at that lovely lawn. And the flowers.  And the serenity …” Heather had to raise her voice to be heard over the three-blower whining chorus.  “What do you usually do?”

“Me?  I have a hard time making up my mind most days,” responded Jay.  “The sewers go all over, I’ve only seen a fraction of them, the subways are a treat, there’s the people eating lunch in the parks for adventure.  I can take a trip on a garbage scow if I need to get away for a while.  And there’s always central park _ especially at night _ where I can just be alone and think and look at nature as it was intended to be seen _ tamed by humans and stripped of anything that might be dangerous to me.”

“Maybe humans have their uses,” acknowledged Heather.

“Well, if there’s enough of them anyway.  I sure wouldn’t want to live in the wilderness like poor Neil upstate on that organic farm.  Vegetables all day, dogs all over, foxes, paranoia, ycch.  But, you know, I’m not so sure I like this either…”

“Well, we all have our preferences,” noted Heather.

“So come visit sometime,” responded Jay, grabbing his hat and heading out to find some way back to paradise.  “I sure can show you a good time.  Honestly,I LOVE New York.”
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Any visit to a strange place can be wonderful, if we can take the time to really appreciate we are in a strange place and should be in a state of wonder.  That means that simply by declaring somewhere a strange place _ even if it is where we live or work _ we can have almost the same experience.  Admittedly, it is a lot easier when the quotidian cues that make things ordinary are missing.

New York _ any large city _ makes most of us rethink many of the mental habits we take for granted.  The weather, the transportation, the food vendors, the sights, the routes to follow are all different.  That is probably why going to different shopping malls can be so unsatisfying _ they are all basically the same layout with the same merchandise and goals.

The biggest problem, especially as we get older, is that for many of us _ at least those of us living relatively comfortably _ leaving our little nest is increasingly difficult.  And when we do go, these days, we tend to want everything with us _ a thick shell of food and drink and guidance restricting our contact with the strange, and assuring that the safety of our traveling cell is always close at hand.  And, as those of us who do continue to travel know, this is somewhat silly, because visiting places has never before been so easy nor safe nor comfortable.

So, for me, since it is easy and vast, visiting New York is a wonderful escape.  If you have access to any strange places _ parks, cities, countries _ certainly take advantage of what is close.  But if once or twice in your life you can manage New York, I think you will be well rewarded.  That reward will be in direct proportion to how much you wander the streets and parks on foot, get away from the tour groups, and take a few minor chances _ and especially how much you are willing to foolishly gawk and be a tourist idiot _ a stranger in a strange land.