What? Where?

SO, I'm sitting at home thinking of a neighborhood that I've never been to, and it just occurred to me that there isn't a neighborhood that I haven't visited; growing up in New York City makes that much of a difference in ones life.

I won't write a creative narrative about a voyage I had to an un-known neighborhood, but I will write a creative narrative about an ackward experience I once had in a very well-known neighborhood--let's just call it a narrative because it really isn't all that creative.

It was a cold winter day in the Lower East Side and I was walking to my internship, The New York Theatre Workshop. It was a day like no other; I was late to my internship and I had to make a quick stop to grab my bacon egg and cheese on a toasted bun, ketchup on the side and cafe-con-leche from a local bodega. East 4th street was busy as usual with all the Tisch kids dancing to class in their leotards, the hipster with their trendy fall jackets that they love to wear in 10 degree weather and the local junkies begging on the corner for their next fix.

As I turned the corner of the block on this very normal day, I noticed this man in between two parked cars in front of my internship building; again, I didnt make anything of it because the City has it's fair share of wierdos. I walked by and said 'Wassup' in a very cheery New York 'Good Morning' tone. But as I walked by him I noticed something very odd, you see he was reading a newspaper, slouched, with his pants down. It just hit me that this man was taking a dump on a busy street in front of my internship building.

It then occurred to me that this man taking a poop in between two parked cars wasn't the wierd part of this story; the wierd part of this story is that there were people walking by him not surprised that this man was doing the doo-doo in public! In fact, there were people who just smiled!

So as I walked up the stairs and entered my internship building, I couldn't help but stand there and watch this man finish pooping--oh don't worry, the janitor watched along with me.

248th and Broadway by Devon McFadden

Three friends

Walking up the street

Past diners

Up hill after hill

My legs are killing me.

No one speaks

We just walk

Past restaurants

And a screaming baby

Girl 1 lights a cigarette

And I wonder

Is she happy?

A man yells

Want to get high?

But we walk by

No one even looks up

Girl 2 trips on a step

And I wonder

Is she happy?

On the subway

We squeeze ourselves in

And a man screams

About humans

And machines

But no one even looks up

He yells at me

They’re going to get you!

And I wonder

Is he happy?

We get off

And sit in a bar

Full of people

Looking for something

They’re not gonna find.

Conversations overlapping

But no eye contact

Millions of people

And no one connects

8 million people

But no one touches

A barrier between

You and everyone

And I wonder

Are any of these people happy?

A drunk kid

Pukes on the stairs

And some people on the corner

Laugh

Drunk kid

Just sits on the pavement

And I wonder

Is he happy?

Three friends.

Return to their boroughs

Half-hearted goodbyes

With false promises

About fake plans

That no one will keep

In the cab

The lady on the radio

Talks about dreams

And the cab driver

Talks about dreams

Where he flies

But it’s never good enough

Cause his arms get tired

Cab driver says sweet dreams

As I close the door

And I wonder

Is he happy?

And I crawl into bed

My whole body sore

And I can’t sleep

Cause it’s too bright

And sirens are blaring

And I lay there and wonder

Am I happy?

And I am.

I’m in the greatest city in the world.

As I walk out my door trying to think of what NYC neighborhood I should visit to complete this assignment I find my self at a lose. I have lived in New York my entire life and have visited most neighborhoods. Should I go to the Bronx where I have spent much time doing community service for the New York foster care system, Brooklyn where it seems all my friends have moved, Queens, lower Manhattan, the West Side or any other corner of the city. I don’t know. As I sit on a stoop a few blocks away from where I have spent most of my life I start to look around at the neighborhood where I grew up, the Upper East Side in a new light.

I look up and watch the doormen dressed in a variety of uniforms opening and closing building doors, and people walk past them almost through them like they don’t exist. They walk back and forth from door to cab or town car opening doors and returning to the building as if they were part of a cuckoo clock. The season start to change before my eyes and the sidewalks are covered with leaves the leaves turn to snow and everything but nothing changes. Park Avenue gets its Christmas time decorations and lights up with a flick of a switch. You can hear the train rumbling towards Grand Central Station filled with morning commuters and again taking them home at night. 86^th street like the Time Square of the Upper East Side is always crowded with people. On different corners scaffolding goes up and comes down just to go up again somewhere else. An elderly woman walks by with her husband and her hair died bright blue. A jogger runs past like all the joggers either go to or from the park or the river but this man is running in woman lingerie. As I sit and wonder what neighborhood I should write about I realize there is no place but here. This is my home. This is me.

Penn Station after a storm

There is nothing in the world like Penn Station at rush hour. The rush of people trying to make their trains is like an intricate dance of organized chaos. On Thursday after the storm that ravaged its way through New York Long Island Rail Road service was knocked out for several hours in the middle of the evening rush hour. All pretense of organization was quickly lost among the throngs of islanders trying to find their way home. Not only was Penn Station filled with NYPD but with National Guard troops as well. Hundreds of commuters were forced to wait in the hot humid tunnels of the LIRR station waiting for any news on whether they would be able to get home to see their loved ones. Walking among them, I saw the faces of the lost, of the weary, of the tired businessmen and women just trying to get home. This is why I will never live anywhere outside of Manhattan. Anywhere not reachable by subway is not worth living in.

Greenwhich Village

                                                                                                                    Hilary Moyler

     

                                                          "Greenwich Village"

Wonderful couples holding hands

Making being in love seem so grand

On that sunny afternoon

I sat their and listened to street cars tune

"Beep Beep" all through the day

People in cars yelling, as if the other person can hear what they say

I sat in awe looking at the view

Thinking there's just so much to do

From Beautiful skyscrapers that take your breath away

To the trendy shops, where you know your gonna have to pay

And Cute parks for kids to play 

All the different sights, smells and sounds

Make Greenwich Village my favorite part of town

DUBSTEP SATURDAY'S!

On Saturday September 11th, I found myself in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. There, I engaged in womping, which is a slang term that describes the dancing involved with Dubstep music. Dubstep, a genre of music which has developed into quite a rage amongst electronic music lovers, is growing but has not quite reached its potential yet. Aside from its appearances overseas and its brief presence at MadeEvents' Electric Zoo, in New York City, it is rare to see Dubstep performed live.
Living in New York City has many benefits, one of which happens to be accessibility to upcoming trends in music, fashion, theater, dining, etc. On the second Saturday of every month, Dubstep events are held at popular venues in Brooklyn. The DJ plays only drum and bass based electronic music. On September 11th, the event was held at Coco66, a relatively well known neighborhood spot for good music.
Greenpoint was a lot like the rest of Brooklyn, not many tall buildings and an abundant amount of garages and warehouses. However, the thing that struck me the most was the sense of community that I felt there. As I socialized around the bar, my friends and I discovered that the majority of the attendees were from the neighborhood, and had heard about the concert through the grapevine. Where as myself, who grew up on the Upper East Side, had to look it up on the internet for an unreasonable amount of time. The Upper East Side has become so crowded and so randomized that the sense of community has been lost. I admired Greenpoint for this, and I envied everyone who came together for this momentous occasion. This experience has enlightened me and makes me contemplate a possible move to Brooklyn.

p.s. if anybody wants to go to one of these, either talk to me in class or email me sjacobs@mm.edu . it truly is musical crack.

Soho!!

My friends and I decided to take a little adventure, so we hopped on the subway and got off in Soho. At first we were wandering around aimlessly with a couple pit stops, once to a brand new Chanel store and then to a MoMA store. We had fun playing with all the various and honestly somewhat useless items in MoMA (honestly who needs a taco shaped wallet) and realized we needed some food, fast. Brian, our tech guy, searched in his phone for a cheap place to eat. We ended up getting lost several times and we finally reached the Mexican restaurant we were searching for to discover it was a sketchy street stand. But we walked one more block and stumbled upon Cafe Select, a restaurant with authentic German food and a ton of German memorabilia, plus it was cheap! It was amazing because my roommate is from Holland and German food is something she is used to and she really enjoyed it. Plus we all got to try stuff we had never even heard of before. The afternoon just reminded me what makes New York so unique.

Kelly Brannan