Tag: #NewYork

  • A Friendly Mask-less Walk

    So, I have been walking around the neighborhood without a mask for a little over a week now. I did the thing where I have my mask on but I have pulled it under my chin. It’s like trying to have it both ways; I have a mask on but I don’t. At the start of the week, I just pulled the band-aid off, and went out mask-less, but I do take a mask with me, tucked into my front shirt pocket. (There is always a chance I might have to go in a store or ride a bus, so I keep the mask on me at all time.) There was a bit of nervousness with the act, like I was breaking some social code, like white pants after Labor Day.

    When I walk around, even with the dog, there are a few people that give me a dirty look, but this is New York, so that really is par for the course. Also par for the course is that most people keep looking down, or straight ahead as if you don’t exist.

    But today, as I walked the dog, it was the first day that I noticed that smiles are coming back. And even in some cases a smile with a nod. It’s a small touch of friendly, and it does make the neighborhood feel like a neighborhood again.

  • Riding the Subway Again

    I am fully vaccinated against Covid-19. I received my second Pfizer shot over two weeks ago, so I am cleared to not wear my mask when outside, and I can ride on mass transit, provided I still mask up.

    The subway is my big test. I have not used mass transit since March 2020, so it has been 14 months that I have stayed in my neighborhood to run errands by myself. When the wife is available, we use our car, but that means it has to be after work or on weekends. Though it works, it’s not always practical. For us to get back to “normal” I need to use the subway to run errands in the City.

    Yesterday, I rode the B train from 125th street to 96th so I could shop at the 93rd Street Trader Joe’s, and then back. This was my test day, and I know that it was a test that I would easily accomplish, so I guess it was more like re-experiencing normalcy.

    Standing on the platform at 125th, I put my headphones on, and listened to music, which I really hadn’t done outside of the home in a while. It was reassuring to hear the overhead announcements about the incoming train stopping on the local track. The smell from the tunnel as the wind rushes up when a train approaches; that twisting smell of tar, and exhaust, and a hint of garbage.

    When I boarded the train and sat, there were very few people around. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself for the short ride. I was listening to music, but I felt that I needed to do something. So, I pulled out my phone and played a game. I wanted to look around, but I felt that I should stay in my little bubble.

    I got out at 96th, and walked down Central Park West. It was reaffirming to listen to music, meandering down the street, and see people coming and going; kids and dog walkers, delivery and doormen, people strolling and self-involved.

    The shopping at Trader Joe’s was normal, or Covid normal. A short line out front, people keeping their distance in the store, and a very long checkout line. My groceries filled two double bagged paper bags, so a modest haul for my family of three, but it was also two heavy bags that I had to carry three blocks and an avenue.

    I was out of shape for that; carrying stuff any distance, and it really wasn’t that long of a distance. We had been doing big grocery shops with the car, so I had forgotten the rule of “You only buy what you can carry.” By the time I made it back to the 96th station, I began to feel the strain in my shoulders.

    I took another B train, uptown this time, and when I stepped on, I took a seat where someone had been sitting who had just gotten off. This was something that everybody does all the time on the subway, and as I sat down, I had the thought that maybe it’s not safe to sit where someone had just been sitting? Then I had to remind myself that I’m vaccinated, and you can’t get it from a surface.

    I departed the B at 125th Street, and when I stepped off the train a smell of fish hit me. I had forgotten that there is a spot on the uptown side of the platform that is right under a fresh seafood shop. It was a little reminder of the quirks at the station. It was a detail that was a fun reminder, but come the sticky heat of summer, it will no longer be so pleasant.

    I made it home, and the total time that the errand took, from leaving the apartment to returning to it, took one hour and thirty minutes. If memory serves, I used to be able to accomplish the task in one hour flat. So, I have something to work towards. Because, I will be doing this again; The riding and walking and carrying, but at some point, I won’t have a mask on, right? That’s the real return.

  • Hey NYC Mayoral Candidates, Buy a Home in Brooklyn

    I quote Desus and Mero on this, “Why would anyone want to be mayor of New York?”

    It is a job where 80% of the city hates you, at any given time, no matter what you do.

    Mind you, I have only lived through two mayors in my time here; Bloomberg and de Blasio. Neither one of those guys inspired me to vote for them. But this election cycle, I feel more civically involved and plan on voting this time around. The truth of the matter is that the Democratic Primary for Mayor is the real election, as the Republican candidate doesn’t stand a chance. Full disclosure, I am not registered as Democrat, I’m an Independent, so I will not be allowed to vote in the primary of either party. General election all the way for me.

    So, there are eight people running for the Democrat nomination; Andrew Yang, Kathryn Garcia, Shaun Donovan, Scott Stringer, Maya Wiley, Ray McGuire, Eric Adams, and Dianne Morales. I haven’t done much research on any candidate, so I’m not sold on anyone. But, the nomination is out of my hands, so, I’ll have to see who is selected.

    But, there are a few things I do want whomever becomes mayor of this city to be aware of, and that’s how much it costs to live here, which is stupidly expensive. (Not San Francisco stupid which is like a whole other planet of unreasonable stupid.) Donovan and McGuire were asked what they thought the median home price in Brooklyn was, and their answer was in the range of $100,000 and less. So you know, the median price of a home in Brooklyn is $900,000. You can read the story here for more information on what the other candidates said, which was closer to being correct.

    Odds are that Donovan and McGuire, who are not leading in the polls, won’t get the nomination, but still, how did these two come up with that number, which was so far off? Clearly, they are out of touch, but do they think $100k buys a lot, or do they think that $100k homes are still available today, or was that what $100k could buy 40 years ago and they just defaulted back to that number?

    Either way, except for Yang, all the candidates got he question wrong. It doesn’t bode well for us if the person who wants to lead has no idea how difficult it is to live in this town. See, who wants this job?

  • Sounds of New York

    There is a guy singing in the construction site behind our building. At least, I think he’s singing. It’s more like a deep belly “Huh!” followed by several other “huh’s.” With the construction site being a hollow cement post and lintel structure, that has yet to be filled in with walls, or pipes, or anything, so it just behaves like a big echo chamber. Every sound, hammer pounding, yell, or really terrible idea of signing, is just amplified in the neighborhood.

    When we were staying up at our friend’s house for the weekend, we slept with the windows open. Now, the house was not in the country, though it was a small town, but in a small neighborhood subdivision. Yet, for an occasional car passing by, it was very quiet out there. Nothing happening, just the sound of still.

    Last night, back in New York, we slept with the windows open. I woke up around 4am, and as I lay in bed, trying to fall back to sleep, I listened to the City. It was a quiet night, no weird honking sounds, or sirens going by, but there is a hum to the City. It’s like a white noise hum. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but it was there, just a very low humming; like a machine running automatically.

  • Ants

    It’s spring, and it seems like the world is slowly coming back to life. Flowers are blooming, trees are budding, and grass is greening. And bugs are back. In our tiny apartment, that means the ants are back.

    We get ants in the Spring. And I hate ants. These are stupid, little black ants, which are called Little Black Ant, annoy the shit out of me, especially their stupid, unoriginal name. They are easy to kill, and stop, but man, it’s like two weeks of those little bastards just showing up along the edge of the wall. The kid hates them, and also thinks the ants are out to get her. So, we have to have a calming down moment before she goes to bed to make sure she understands the ants aren’t after her.

    Stupid ants.

    Growing up in Texas, the fear was fire ants, as those assholes are awful. For every kid, there was always a moment when they accidently stood on, or fell on, or kicked a fire ant mound, and those evil guys swarmed, biting the hell out of you.

    I remember my dad buying fire ant killer at the local hardware store in the Spring to deal with them. The stuff he bought was a poison in the form of little yellow pellets that he would spread around the mound. The ants would think its food and bring it into the nest. Slowly, over the course of a week or two, the mound would die off, and a little pile dirt was left in the yard, like the ancient ruins of a civilization. I would dig up the dead mounds carefully, to see the tunnels that they had created. It was fascinating that little things could build such complexity.