Archetecture in NYC

I don't remember EVER caring about the structure and design of buildings. But in NYC each neighborhood drips charm. And please don't get me started on art deco!  These buildings are in my neighbrhood are sweet!

Drawing in NYC

The challenge to drawing in NYC is finding a place to sit down. Seems like all 8 million of us are in constant motion.

My favorite art critic Jerry Saltz wrote, "Museums are like worm holes to other worlds. They are ecstacy machines. Follow your eyes wherever they lead you, stop, get very quiet, and the world should begin to change." I've tried to do that and these are the results. Here are three recent items.

Landromat in Harlem.
Library in Harlem (everyone was wearing a black scull cap).
Oddments from today's museum.

Saturday, 11.30.13

Sitting in the lobby of the Whitney Mueseum after a leisurely afternoon wrapping my my head around modern art. I now count myself as another of the ten million art museum goers who looks at modern art and says, "My 3 year old could do that."  To be fair, Alexander Calder (the mobile and wire scupture guy) is awesome. I also spent a leisurely morning at the New York Historical Museum ogling Duschamps and Van Gogh. (I've yet to figure out how to label uploaded photos so please use your imagimation).

Thanksgiving, 11.28.13

I began today blogging about yesterday, then researched an important part of travel: finding a laundromat. I then located a grocery store (they're on every corner) and splurged on today's dinner fixin's, rode the subway to Grant's Tomb, hopped on the Gray Line tour bus for the 3rd day of my four days pass. I was the only sight seer on board so the guide sat down and said, "Either I can talk to you or you can talk to me. Talk to me.''

I told him I'm from Seattle, that my wife recently passed away, and that I was in NYC to visit the place of my birth, Staten Island. I also explained I am trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life and that I planned to explore New York's world of art. He said he was an artist and that he did caricatures.

I told him "I draw caricatures." To prove it I fumbled in my phone and tablet looking for the picture of me drawing my cousin's grandson. I couldn't find it. But he gave me his business card and I will send him proof.

The bus driver then swung by Yankee Stadium but sadly the import of that hallowed ground was lost on this professional athletics philistine.

I then hopped on another Gray Line headed through Harlem again. I loved seeing the Apollo, former home of the Cotton Club, and buildings dedicated to Malcolm X, William Sloan Coffin, and even Bill Clinton has an office in Harlem.  I often told Vicki that if i had a time machine I'd like to be a black saxaphone player in Harlem in the 30s, during the height of the Harlem renassaince. I hummed Fats Waller, Count Bassie, Sonny Rawlins, and Duke Ellington tunes all afternoon.

Frustrated by the full storage on my phone and tablet I found an electronics store (there really is eveything you need within a one block radius of where ever you are in NYC) and bought two new micro SD cards. Then hopped the subway to the southern tip of Manhatten to hop the Staten Island ferry. That excursion deserves its own blog post. Stay tuned.

Visual Overload 11.27.13

I found a new coffee place called The Chiped Cup near my digs. A "bagel and schmere" is aparently a NY staple. My schmere was tofu cream cheese, I kid you not. It also had wifi and I was able to do some work related tasks. Rode the subway again down town and took two more Gray Line bus tours. It was rainy, freezing, and packed due to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade tomorrow.

There are different types of tourism: eco, medical, historical, musical, bike, adventure, etc. It's hard to limit one's trip to one purpose, but after nine days away from home I am getting closer to my goal of "what is the purpose of life?" tourism.

I say getting closer and not arriving because many visual delights in this big city capture my attention.....Grant's tomb, the Dakota where Lennon was shot, the Wall Street Bull, Brooklyn Bridge, bumping into Gandalf (for real!), NY skyline, Trump Tower, etc.

Then there are the new sights I add to my must see list: Ground Zero (one of yesterday's tour guides was understandably emotional as he reminded tourists of the city's losses on 911), Ellis Island, Times Square Church, Tenament Historical Society, and more. Dare I visit 5th Avenue on Thanksgiving? Depends on the weather.

Then there are the survival tasks that distract me in my pursuit of love, truth, and beauty.....nailing down my next lodgings, finding restaurants, laundromats, SD cards for my phone and tablet, and learning how to ride that cool subway.

Nevertheless, I am getting closer to my goal: I bought a sketch pad, visited a comic book store and stocked up on Will Eisner books, and familiarized myself with the locations of the seven museums I hope to visit next week.

I will top off this trip with a visit to Staten Island.

Day One in New York

My purpose in being in New York is to sort out God's calling in my life so I began the day with total self indulgence. I don't necessarily recommend this to others but I needed to play and play I did.

1. Woke up in my $55/night bed and breakfast (it's cheap because they don't serve breakfast!) and walked through Harlem to a McDonalds for coffee and oatmeal.

2. Took a subway to Times Square.

3. Finding my Florida jacket too skimpy for November in NYC, I bought a new hat and coat.

4. I wandered around lower Manhatten for a while and some guy sold me a 3 day bus tour package. I loved it! I saw lots (I'm stymied on how to upload all the videos I took with my new tablet...stay tuned), and bought a turkey sandwhich and another coffee. (Good-by vegan diet).

5. I was especially interested to hear from this tour guide how Manhattenites see Statan Islanders (I am from that burrough). Two quips: "Manhattenites want to secede from the union and form their own country...but they dont want to take Staten Island with them." "Everyone on Staten Island has a car; few people in Manhatten have a car." Car ownership is appaerently beneath the 7 million taxi driven, subway riding folks on Manhatten.

6. The tour guide suggested we, "Take the Top of the Rock (Rockerfeller Plaza) tour now before the storm hits. The view from the 70th floor is better than from the Empire State building." So I grit my teeth and faced my fear of heights. 70 floors up isn't hard when encased in tall, thick glass walls. I filmed my experiment and I'll post it if I can figure out how. I also are some pricy vegetarian sushi and salad.

7. Back on ground level I needed a drink and found the holy grail for all cartoonists, humorists, and fans of the New Yorker,  the Algonquin Hotel. Sipping my Manhatten while in Manhattan, in the shadow of original prints by Hirschfeld the caricaturist, and in the same room where Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, Harpo Marx, George S. Kaufman, Harold Ross, and others schmoozed in the 30s was a dream come true (I know, I have weird dreams).

8. Night life in the city that never sleeps is visible from outer space, so I've been lead to believe. See photos.

9. I took the subway back to my neighborhood and scouted around for grocery stores. If I don't get some kale or baked tofu soon I'm going to ... I'm not sure what I'll do. It's late and the metaphor pool has just about dried up. I am happy to report that a consumer can find just about anything they want in a five minute walk from anywhere.  Tomorrow I eat like a king.

Musings About Planning and Travel

My pal and career coach Mark Warren taught me the importance of energy management more than time management.  Unlike criminals who have "malice aforethought," spontaneous travelers like me have "nary aforethought." I did hardly any research on train travel yet blissfully plopped down my credit card to the tune of 670$ and bought the Amtrak 30 day rail pass. I did so not to save money but to save energy.

Here's why.

1. Pragmatism. Given my mother's precarious health I wasn't sure we'd ever make it to Florida. I took her to the ER in Bellingham 4xs in the last 6 weeks. Rather than risk making travel and housing reservations that might need to be cancelled, I chose not to plan anything until our plane hit the tarmac.

2.  Exigency. Once we landed it was only a matter of hours before we were back in the ER, this time in Delray Beach. Our first 3 days in Florida were spent in a very nice hospital. I've heard of medical tourism but I don't see tourists planning vacations to visit ERs any time soon.

3.  Psychology There is something energizing about spontaneity. Economic neurologists who study the irrational choices consumers make recognize that there are other factors behind our spending habits beside price, quality, and convenience.  There was for me the nebulous but very real "can I make a hasty decision and live with the consequences?" factor. Making travel plans entails 10,000 decisions and having just spent the last two months as care giver to my mom, and the 6 years prior to that as caregiver to my wife, I reached a point of decision overload. The solution? Buy the damn train ticket and rid myself of the emotionally draining waffling, weighing options, reading reviews, and fretting about making the best decision.  In my case making a potentially bad decision was better than making a well thought out decision.

I've now spent one full day in New York (report coming soon) and so far so good! My depleted energy got a boost from cousin Jan and the energy drain of weighing 10,000 travel decisions got plugged. My resources are slowly coming back. Isn't this is what re-creation is all about? Even God rested on the seventh day.

Thoughts About Train Travel

I pity the engineer who was assigned the task of designing one train seat to fit every body shape. Statistically, there's a bell curve of leg lengths, so accommodating the short child and the lanky legged, while squeezing as many bodies as possible into these coaches must have been a nightmare for him or her.

My feeling after ten hours: see drawing.

It took me 12 hours before I figured out how to best arrange my seat, tray, carry on, and foot rest for minimal leg cramping.

I also had to improvise making my own pillow. I stuffed my socks, unders, and tee shirts into the sleeve of my jacket, resulting a trail of socks, unders, and tee shirts leaking out the wrist area. Next segment, bring a pillow and blanket.

Falling asleep on a train is easy. I bet I did it one hundred times last night.

Don't leave in the evening. Pulling out of a train station during the day affords beautiful scenery that will offset the inevitable onset of leg cramps (unless you're a demure and whispy young woman like my seatmate who travelled with ease lounging on her reclined seat).

Flying and Train Travel Compared

If a train engine fails you don't have far to fall.

Trains have wider aisles so you can pace, stretch, and visit the dinning car for $8 sandwiches.

Trains give you longer time to schmooze with follow passengers, like the Polish mother of two seated next to me who claimed to be a medium, palm reader, intuitive interpreter of the magic of names, astrologer, sees angels ("They look like rainbows,"), and who kindly offered me a cough drop.

Boarding a train requires less sceening for possible terroroists. Nobody can hijack a train and run it into a building.

But then, bandits can't put rocks on the track and steal our strong box filled with gold.

Our train had no WiFi. Let's hope that changes for the next 11 segments (I have until December 19 to take 11 more journeys. If I play my cards right l'll end up in Bellingham just in time for Christmas).

Train travel is not for the agoraphobic, germophobic, or claustrophobic. But then, I guess air travel isn't either.

Plane travel is quicker.

Visiting Cousins....11.24.13

After spending last Tuesday flying with my mother to Florida, and then the next three and a half days with her in and out of the ER and hospital, I bid her a teary farewell and left Delray Beach, Fl. in my rental car. Next stop: St. Petersburg and Spring Hill, Florida to visit my grand parents' grave markers, my deceased cousin's' grave marker, and see my long lost cousin and her husaband. I haven't seen them in 40 years.

I took the back roads of Florida hoping to see lizards. Saw none.

In St. Pete's I hooked up with cousin Jan Johnson Aldrich and her husband Jay who showed me a wonderful time. I bonded with Jan, drew her grandkids, and visited her mother my Aunt Ruth in a nursing home. She compared a childhood photo of me to make sure I was in fact her nephew whom she hadn't seen in 55 years (I apparently changed some).

I'm now in the Tampa Amtrak station waiting to head to New York.

Florida Breakfast....Nov. 21, 2013

Sitting in my sister's screened patio, delray beach, Fl. reading the Sun Sentinal newspaper and keeping an eye out for lizards.

Choice Overload

Landed in Fort Lauderdale yesterday. Situating my mum in Florida requires my immediate attention. After that I will figure out where I am, what to see, where to go, where to stay, how to get there, and how to pay for it all. Other than that this trip is well planned.

Reflections on Cumber

In the early seventies I worked for two years at the Seattle Goodwill sifting, transporting, trashing, and shuttling around people's donations. This was my first encounter with cumber. 

About that time I became a Christian and read with fascination the New Testament admonition to "put off all encumbrances and things which hinder growth."

After my father's death in the mid 2000's my grief was seasoned with existential angst while disposing of his estate. We hired an auctioneer to sell off his accumulated treasures. The PR was lousy and so was the turn out. Consequently only a handful of buyers showed up and they bought my dad's beloved hand tools, power tools, furniture, paintings, hand made tables, and a thousand other oddments for pennies on the dollar. I shook my head in Ecclesiastes-like lament as truckloads of his beloved possessions were hauled off by strangers drunk with glee at their good fortune. I imagined their kids someday hiring an auctioneer to get rid of all that stuff which would be an encumbrance to them.

In helping my mother downsize for a move to Florida I had opportunity to witness her goodbyes to many of her beloved books. She wisely kept saying, "I can't keep everything" so we sent many titles, along with boxes and boxes of housewares and other miscellaneous items, to the Goodwill. Her cumber is now creating jobs for the disabled.

I muse on this as I pack for my journey. How much cumber do I need? Part of me wishes I could travel armed with only a book and a credit card. But I also need a cell phone. And comfortable walking shoes. And sun glasses. And toothbrush. And, and, and. 

Like it or not, I gotta have my stuff. Which brings me to this oft repeated but still funny bit from Manhattanite and former Roman Catholic, George Carlin.

Things That Blow My Mind

The thought of visiting world renowned museums in NYC makes me quiver with delight. I'm easily awed and I predict this art trip is going to be full of awe. It blows my mind that "awful" has such negative connotations.

In going through my mother's books (her hobby was collecting and reading non fiction), I discovered that one of her favorite authors, the Quaker mystic and religious guru of the 1800's, Hanna Whithall Smith, was a mother in law of Bertrand Russell the famous atheist. This blows my mind.

With my mom's permission I've been sorting through her treasured papers including love letters from my dad to her in 1942 while he tugged barges from NY harbor to Boston and she was home alone pre-kids. He passed away in 2006 and I miss him dearly. The relentless passing of time blows my mind.

Even though I used to live in Seattle, I'm now so countrified I expect to marvel in amazement at how a city like New York works. Even though there are aldermen, mayors, and governors, they can't micromanage eight million people. New Yorkers have learned to coexist successfully. The very thought blows my mind. So do flocks of birds, schools of fish, and colonies of ants who work together, get along, and play nice without a centralized command center.

A Letter to my Men's Group

(11/16/13). Sorry to be so absent from our group these weeks. I miss stories about the World Series, the 48, Falling Upwards, Bill's cruise, church news, Bellingham politics, and everyone's head shaking laments about the fortunes and foibles of our often kooky religious world. Can't wait to get back into the grove of reading and thinking with you all. By the way, Happy Birthday, Tom.

 

If all goes according to plan, my 89 year old mother and I fly out Tuesday AM for Florida where she plans to die. Her health is so precarious that every day for the last 3 weeks I'm never sure if she's going to be alive when I get to her room (she's in assisted living at Spring Creek and hates it). Her heart isn't pumping as good as it used to. I facilitated her farewell to her 84 year old brother and sister in law in Anacortes (heart rending) and my kids (teary), sent her cat special delivery to Del Rey Beach, FL (the cat's travel expenses cost 8xs what my mom's ticket cost), I've sent boxes, consolidated her banking data, became an amateur pharmacist, could conduct my own medical office visit for patients with congestive heart failure, and am bracing myself for the dreaded day when I leave FL probably never to see my mom again. Coping with her...paranoia about pick pockets...has been taxing to the max so I'm looking forward to taking my time traveling alone, visiting WA DC and NYC, and returning to WA just before Christmas. I may take a train across country so I can read and see America from an Amtrak Vista-dome. All this while still trying to do the necessary grief work my heart and soul craves.

 

I've downloaded videos and books on my new tablet, packed three paperbacks (including A Severe Mercy by Sheldon VanAuken) for non digital entertainment, and am still getting the hang of no keyboard or printer. I'm packing short sleeve shirts for FL and sweaters for NY. I'm kissing my plant based diet goodbye for the time being and looking forward to the day when I can illustrate Ecclesiastes, complete spiritual memoirs, and engage in some sort of ministry in January. If there's any silver lining in this, I'm able to juggle these tasks as a relatively alert 61 year old. Can't imagine what widowers in their 80s or 90s would do.

 

Blessings on you all. I'll have email access and my phone (if I don't get pick pocketed in Manhattan).

 

~~Erik

Last Week Before Departure

This isn't a vacation. I'm swinging by New York after I relocate my mother to Florida which means I'm closing down her bank accounts, cancelling her phone, internet, and newspaper; shipping her cat, managing her meds, arranging for assisted living before we leave, cleaning out her condo, helping her sort 89 years' of possessions deciding what to keep, ship, give, or trash, playing sodium warden (she's under strict doctor's orders to reduce her salt intake), keeping her out of the ER (she's been there 4 times in the last 6 weeks), keeping her occupied during her unpleasant stay in assisted living, take her to the movies, cleaning out her cat's box, and in my spare moments day dream about not getting pick pocketed in New York.

For my own peace of mind today I get to attend a TEDx Conference in Bellingham, WA. Can't wait!  

Rich and Poor

This week's issue of the New Yorker includes this tid bit, "Last year, the poorest twenty per cent of the city's households earned, on average, $8,993, and the  richest five percent earned, on average, $436,931."

Bill de Blasio, New York's new mayor will, the article continues, address this inequality.

Hmmm.

If by some fluke of providence I am captured during my upcoming visit and am forced to serve on his advisory committee,  what would I, the least political, least economically minded person I know, suggest?

1. Earmark some of the city's tax revenue to job training, free career counseling, education, and micro-loans.
2. Tax the rich. Mandating generosity isn't pleasant but watching people starve is worse.
3. Incentivize the rich to take sight seeing tours to the food banks, homeless shelters, and free clinics. Perhaps seeing human suffering would motivate charity, creativity,  and generosity.
4. Empower NGOs (ie., philanthropic and humanitarian churches) to help.
5. From the office of the mayor laud media efforts to promote creative problem solvers. I realize the New Yorker needs to run ads like this (I'd love to know what kind of revenue this back page ad generates; it must be a lot since the magazine pays its cartoonists royally), but what if the back page made literacy volunteers, teachers, and people helpers look as classy? (By the way, I think these watch innards are beautiful! Sticker price, $123,000).