A Writer’s Book of Days (01/14) – Write About The Horizon

“Wait a second, are we supposed to be going over a bridge?” Mom asked as the J train rumbles into daylight.

Crap. I forgot that Essex Street and Delancey Street were the same station and missed the stop.

In a few months, I was moving to the Bronx for college and was still learning the intricacies of New York City’s subway system. We certainly weren’t supposed to be going over a bridge. Nor did I know that the next stop, Marcy Avenue, wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood.

We got off the train at Marcy Avenue and waited for the next uptown train. There were some interesting characters loitering around the station, and I knew Mom was a bit nervous. She hadn’t ridden the subway in decades, and this wasn’t exactly a mistake that would calm someones reservations.

Finally, an M train pulls into the station and we hop on, taking a bench seat by one of the windows. It starts moving back toward Manhattan.

“Look at what God painted tonight,” Mom whispered, pointing to the sun setting over Manhattan’s horizon. The sky towards the front of the train was filled with brushstrokes of orange, red, gold, pink, and purple. It was one of the more spectacular sunsets I’d seen.

Flickr: bondidwhat

“Look!” she said more loudly, pointing towards the east. Not only we were witnessing a beautiful sunset, but a rare moon rising over Brooklyn’s horizon.

Sometimes missing your stop isn’t such a bad thing after all.

When I was younger, I went to St. Mary’s School in East Islip. Every December 8, we’d have the day off for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, so we took the opportunity to go into Manhattan and spend the day doing fun holiday things. Even though I’m not off on that day anymore, I love spending at least one full day in the city doing holiday things. My favorites, in no particular order:

1) Visiting St. Patrick’s Cathedral – The cathedral is absolutely breathtaking, but there’s something even more special about it at Christmas time, especially when the nativity scene is up.

2) Doing the holiday window tour - This map is a great guide to hitting all the major store windows: Bloomingdale’s, Barney’s, Bergdorf Goodman’s, Saks, Lord & Taylor, and Macy’s. The last one is always my favorite, although they’ve replaced Miracle on 34th Street windows with Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Wear sneakers! And Lexcie and I learned that if you go early – those few precious days between Thanksgiving and December 1 – there are barely any lines.

3) Visiting Rockefeller Center – Nothing makes you feel more like being part of a city than being in Rockefeller Center during Christmas. I’ve never ice skated there, but I do like to marvel at the height of the tree and the size of the crowd (and perhaps go get a foot massage at the Rockefeller Center Brookstone). Them, you can watch the lights show against the Saks building across the street.

4) Getting something hot from a street vendor – On cold nights, nothing beats a hot pretzel or a cup of hot chocolate. One particular Christmas was so bitter that me, Mom, my brother Aaron, my sister Alyse, and nephew Joey (his first time in NYC) were only outside for a few minutes before deciding to cut our trip to the city short (even though we did stop to see the Rockefeller tree). Before we left, we stopped at a McDonald’s to warm up and order hot chocolate and apple pies. When we asked Joey what his favorite part of the trip was (thinking he’d say the tree), he replied, “Hot chocolate and apple pies.”

5) Walking through Macy’s – I never buy anything, but it’s just spectacular how decked out the store is for the holidays. A few rides on the wooden escalators are fun too.

6) Visiting Bryant Park - It’s much easier to stand and watch the skaters at Bryant Park than it is at Rockefeller Center. And when you’re bored with watching people fall over, you can browse the pop-up shops that take residence in the park over the holiday season.

7) Walking in the snow - Very weather specific, I know. But the silent, soft snow against the harshness of the city is stunning. I love getting caught in snow when I’m in New York City.

8 ) Listening to random street performers – Everyone breaks out the holiday tunes, from the Salvation Army ringers to the steel drum player in the Times Square subway station. One of my favorites is a group of church singers on Fifth Avenue.

9) Riding the vintage holiday trains - Each year, New York City Transit pulls out vintage R1/R9 subway trains and runs them in service one day each weekend before the holiday. This year, it’s running on Saturdays.

10) Visiting FAO Schwartz - Nothing brings you back to your childhood like taking a dance on the giant piano.

My favorite NYC Christmas trip was two years ago. Mom and I went to the top of the Empire State Building, had dinner at the soon-closing Tavern on the Green, and went to Barnes & Noble for a Christmas sing-a-long with “Sesame Street’s” Bob McGrath. By the time we were done, we were too exhausted to do the holiday window tour, but did see Macy’s. We’ll make up for it this year.

I’ve managed to get avoid yet another Summer Friday on the Long Island Railroad. It’s the period of time starting the Friday before Memorial Day and ending after Labor Day in which Fire Islanders, Hamptonites, and Montaukians take over the normal, usually quiet, commute home. Ask an everyday commuter on the Montauk Line about Summer Fridays and I guarantee they’ll make a face or groan. Certain beachgoers have earned a well-used nickname – citiots, short for idiots from NYC.

You can tell easily tell the beachgoer from the regular commuter. Beachgoers are Teva, Havaianas, polo shirts, and sundress-clad; smell heavily of suntan lotion or preppy cologne; carry Vera Bradley duffel bags and totes; have cell phones glued to their ears; and sometimes bring along a small dog, usually without a leash or crate. Your regular commuter is dressed for work, whether business suit or hard hat; has a monthly pass hanging around his neck; carries a newspaper and cup of coffee or platform beer; and attempts to sleep the entire way home.

There are unspoken rules that the regular commuter follows. If there aren’t enough seats, allow someone to sit down next to you. If someone was on the platform before you, allow them to enter the train first. Speak softly on your cell phone. Don’t bug to the commuter next to you if he’s sleeping. Don’t eat smelly food or wear heavy perfume. For the most part, this ends in a peaceful ride home (at least when there aren’t service delays).

But not on Summer Fridays.

The beachgoers arrive in one big swoop, acting like they own the railroad for $46 round trip. You wouldn’t believe the rudeness I’ve encountered. One man sat in the middle seat of a three-seater and refused to move when two people asked him to scoot over so they could sit together. More than once I’ve been woken up by a loud cell phone argument or having beer spilled on me. And in 2006, a beachgoer had her poodle in the seat next to her, while I had a long day at work and just wanted to sit down. She told me, “No, my poodle is sitting here.” Well, Mr. Poodle was not in a carrier, which is against LIRR rules, so I summoned a conductor. The conductor asked her if the dog had a ticket (of course not) and forced her to move to the vestibule – success!

Oh, those poor conductors. I know they have to deal with much more than us regular commuters fighting for a seat. You can hear a certain testiness in their voices some Fridays. “Move your bags! Your dogs must be contained! No, you have to switch at Babylon, not Jamaica! Get your feet off the seats, I told you twice already!”

I’m not saying that all beachgoers are rude, but the more-than-few are enough to make me work remotely on Fridays. On those rare Fridays I don’t work from home, I always leave from Long Island City to avoid the Penn Station logjam. I’m not asking that the beachgoers take the Hampton Jitney every week – only that they follow the unspoken rules that us monthly commuters already have in place. It will make the ride much more pleasant for everyone.

Recommended Reading:

The Rude Hamptons

I feel like one of the people in the Halls Get Through The Season ads that have permeated NYC subway cars. Haven’t been able to get to the doctor or acupuncturist, and would prefer to go to the latter as I don’t want antibiotics. Hopefully I’ll get over what I think is a sinus infection by the time I leave for Taiwan.

Those Halls ads always make me feel uncomfortable. One of the comments on Ads of the World pinpointed it – you feel like you’re going to catch a cold just from looking at them. I’d probably be less bothered had they been painted caricatures, but they’re disturbing digitally warped photos.

I wrote to Daryl Lang today in response to his blog post about rouge subway signs (back story: I was at the DeKalb Avenue station the other day and noticed a black-on-white sign, which Daryl posted here, and Google brought my curiosity to his website), in which I explained the difference between the MTA’s Helvetica font and the once-used Akzidenz-Grotesk (if you’re interested, here’s a great site on Helvetica and the NYC subway). Although the standard signage font nowadays is now Helvetica, there are still bits and pieces of Akzidenz-Grotesk around. I’ve always prefered the latter, as it’s a slightly cheerier font – the diagonal cuts of the c and e remind me of smiley faces. Lame, I know.

But then it got me thinking about which fonts I love and which I truly abhor.  Admit it, you have those two.

My most loathed is Algerian Standard. I used to pass it every day while walking past Blatt Billards on my lunch break. Seriously, I dislike it so much that I wanted to spray paint the store sign. I don’t know where the deep-rooted hatred comes from, but I’m apparently not the only one. There’s actually a Flickr group called Algerian Font, A Burning Hate.  And Kenny over at Childrens Ministry Online has I Loath Algerian Font Days. It made #12 on Inspiration Bit’s “A Plea From 16 Most Overused Fonts.” I don’t like Curlz or Bradley Hand either, but they’re a far second and third from Algerian. I realized that I dislike most Victorian, circus, and Old West-inspired fonts.

In my more innocent days, Comic Sans MS was my font of choice (and you thought Algerian hatred was bad? There’s a whole website advocating the ban of Comic Sans). I used it entirely on my first website, which is lost somewhere in the bowels of Angelfire now. I used it for headers on my second website. Even though it was 10 years ago and I should cut myself some slack, I am appalled at the inconsistent use of fonts. Not to mention my overuse of  GIFs, stretched JPGs with artifacts, and a sad attempt to embed a BMP image of She-Ra and He-Man. However, it isn’t as bad as the first, which rivals CADIE’s HomePAGE.

I then moved on to Century Gothic, which is ultimately my favorite basic font, but realized it didn’t render well on some browsers. Now I stick to Arial and Georgia, for the most part. This website header is in the Jane Austen font.  I’m a big fan of (nice) handwriting fonts (sorry, Bradley and Kristen). This year, I plan to make my own personal handwriting font for $9.95.

One more link and I’m done – a shoutout to Kenny Kane for showing me the way to thousands of free fonts. Perhaps my favorites will change tomorrow.

So, Lexcie and I went to go see Beauty and the Beast on Broadway last Friday. It’s one of my all-time favorite movies, and I wanted to see the show before it officially closes in July. A co-worker did tell me there were some difference from the movie – mainly, it was more comedic and there were more songs. Overall, I gave it a seven out of ten stars.

Why not ten, considering it’s one of my favorite movies? Well, precisely that – it was a lot different from the movie. The story line was essentially the same, but there were more comedic elements and a greater personification of the household objects. The Beast wasn’t as dark and emotional as he was in the movie. Belle’s character remained the same, but Annaliese van der Pol (of Disney Channel’s “That’s So Raven” fame) was emotionally flat at times. The characters of Lumiere and Cogsworth stole the show.

The musical numbers were strong, although some of the dancing left little to be desired (random can-cans?) and some of the ensemble cast didn’t seem to know song lyrics. Lexcie – who had not seen the movie beforehand – felt the story was rushed at points. I’ll make him watch the movie one of these days ;o)

Beforehand, we ate at this great Asian fusion restaurant a co-worker suggested, Cafetasia, which lived up to its Yelp reviews. The food was delicious, served quickly and was nicely priced. The decor is perfect for a casual date, and the bathroom is definitely something to see. I think that was the first time I was ever in a unisex bathroom.

After eating, we decided to go kill some time by checking out some of the secrets of Grand Central Terminal and check out what was going on at The New York Transit Museum annex. Although we weren’t being too railfanish, we did find a consist of mixed M1s and M3s on Metro-North, which is apparently rare.

We then decided to walk over to the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre from Grand Central, and the new wedges I just purchased from Old Navy broke. We did find a Payless and I had to buy another pair of shoes. I already own too many pairs, and my mom just about knifed me with her eyes when she saw I brought home yet another pair, haha.

Rest of the weekend was spent at the park, BBQing, driving around Long Island and drinking lots of “cawfee.” All in all, a spiffy weekend.

And although “Tale as old as time” is pulled from the song “Beauty and the Beast,” I do have my own tale as old as time, which occured yesterday on the LIRR. Yes, I lost some more Tupperware on the 5:09 p.m. train to Speonk. This time, it was five pieces – a mix of good Tupperware from home and some sturdy Chinese food containers. Now, my lost Tupperware count is up to seven. I’m not going to even bother with the LIRR’s Lost and Found anymore, because previous recovery efforts have proved fruitless.

Gah. At least it wasn’t my grandmother’s good Tupperware, which she purchased off of the Home Shopping Network last year. She’s very protective of that Tupperware. I’d probably be chopped meat (or minced beef, if you’re British) if I had left that behind. I bet you she does an inventory count every day!

Yesterday, I was waiting for my bus at Port Authority Bus Terminal, when I noticed the girl sitting in back of me in the waiting area was reading The Ram. Not only was she reading The Ram, but she happened to be reading the Features section. Not only was she reading the Features section, but she was reading my column. So I stared (I really didn’t mean to) at her, to read any expressions on her face as she read. Conclusion: she was devoid of all emotion while reading. But then again, she was deviod of all emotion while reading the entire paper. It’s neat to see people reading The Ram outside the Fordham setting – it’s also happened on the Long Island Railroad. Little did she know I was sitting right behind her, mwhahaha. Mom asked why I didn’t introduce myself – yeah, let’s freak out a Fordham student who probably isn’t used to such randomness.

Also came across the Coliseum bookstore yesterday while walking from Grand Central Terminal to Port Authority. I’ve always seen the store advertised on the 7 and D trains (due to its subway stop being 42nd Street-Bryant Park), but I’m never in that area, because I dislike Times Square. But I forgot how great Bryant Park is, and now I plan to go down there often, because it’s a great place to just chill out and read. I purchased two great books: Latin for All Occasions, and The Cheap Bastard’s Guide to New York City… ah, they’re such great books for dorks like me. I’d highly suggest you purchase them.

I’d just like to say thank you to all of my friends for failing to inform me that Christmas is just around the corner.

At least the Metropolitan Transportation Authority was nice enough to tell me – in September. They told me that if I bought my Radio City Christmas Spectacular tickets early, I would ride free on the Metro-North.

However, they weren’t the only ones to extend the gratuitous reminder.

I went to Duane Reade to see what Halloween costumes they had. Granted, it was October 2 and I was a bit late; those costumes had been out since July Fourth. As I looked at the last of the Dracula fangs, I glanced over to my left.

“Aww, look, a Santa Claus costume,” I said to myself. Then I saw the box of 50 iridescent blinking Christmas tree lights. The snowman that boogied to “Winter Wonderland.” The red, green and silver foiled Hershey’s Kisses. The rows and rows of cellophane-wrapped candy canes, standing tall.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Christmas is over two months away,” I said to the woman in the blue apron standing next to me. She gave me a look of what I perceived to be understanding. In reality, it was a shut-up-and-let-me-finish-stocking-the-shelves-with-multicolored-gift-bows-so-get-out-of-my-way look.

It was depressing.

As I left the store with my shopping bag filled with a glow-in-the-dark wig, fake eyelashes and a plastic pumpkin (which all happened to be on 25 percent clearance; the store had to make room for conversation hearts and Russell Stover chocolates), I couldn’t help but feeling, well, a little bah humbug-y. It was October 2 and I was already sick of Christmas.

I wasn’t always this way. When I was younger, I remember distinct holidays: New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Celebrate one – bam! – on to the next. Even Santa Claus knows when to wait for his turn – he waves at the end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

My countdown to Christmas began on my Advent calendar, not the “X Many More Shopping Days Left” calendar stuck conspicuously in between the J.C. Penney’s and Target sales flyers in my Sunday paper. Did you know that, including today, there are only 43 days left to whip out your wallet and hand over those new $20 bills to the happy cashier? Season of giving, indeed.

I generally try to avoid the mall beginning in October. The one by my house has already decked its halls with boughs of holly-day sales and strains of fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la echo on Musak – you know, that annoying elevator music that stays in your head all day. I’ve resolved that issue by doing all my holiday shopping online. No lines, no hassle, no donning we now our gay apparel. Heck, I even stay in my pajamas.

Maybe we should just rename the holiday “Capitalismas.” After all, I’m learning year after year that it’s all about the money.

So, if you’re wondering why I’m not joining you at the “Buy two, get one free including snazzy gift wrap” sale on Black Friday, it’s because I’m at home, eating a leftover turkey sandwich from my Thanksgiving dinner. That’s right, Thanksgiving. The holiday the stores forgot.

I guess there’s not much investment potential in saying “thank you” for what we already have.