Some observances from the New York Branch:
|This is the view out the picture window at the elevators|
on the 29th floor of ManPlaza.
The other day, I was hiking up the street at about 8 AM, and passed the Broadway theatre which is presenting Newsies. There was a long line of teenagers camped out along the street outside the box office lobby. The show, I suppose, offers a certain number of student rush tickets for each performance, and the show is the Big Hit among the teen set (they must think it's brand new, as these kids in line could not have been very old when the film version was released).
I didn't take much notice of these youngsters, as I was used to the sight of a lengthy queue of teens early in the morning: when Glee's Darren Criss was in How to Succeed...(for about three weeks), the line wrapped around the corner and down another block. So, I took no notice. About half an hour later, having secured an audition slot for later in the day, I was walking back home, and took a slightly different route. I passed another Broadway theatre, where there was one lonely girl sitting outside the box office lobby. Heavyset, with glasses, reading a book, she was the first and only person waiting in line to snag a student rush ticket.
And the show the theater was hosting? The revival of The Best Man. The girl looked a little forlorn, sitting alone on the ground, with her book and her wool hat. She probably lives a lonely life in high school, in a world where everyone wants to see Newsies, and she prefers a Gore Vidal drama. I know which line I would have been in, had I been a current high school teen.
I've discovered during my time here that the belief that New Yorkers are rude is an absolute fallacy. Yes, New Yorkers are usually in a hurry, so they look pretty unapproachable on the street. But in my few months in the City, I have stopped numerous locals to ask directions. (I am notoriously ignorant regarding any kind of directions...my buddy Greg had to inform me that my apt was facing a different direction than I thought, months after I took possession).
|The cruise ships which dock in Manhattan|
do so a few blocks from ManPlaza.
|Each holiday brings a new lobby display at Manhattan Plaza. They are always kid-friendly and non-denominational, so the Easter display offered bunnies rather than crucifixions.|
Oh, and speaking of the elevator:
It's an involuntary, juvenile little game I play with myself whenever I am riding up the elevator. I'm sure there is something psychologically telling about the fact that I like winning that little contest, but I won't be examining that too closely. Perhaps it's a metaphor for opening this New York Branch of my life: it seems to be a winning decision most of the time, but sometimes does not.