Here are some highlights of our last few days in New York City. It was a great two weeks in shorts.
When we landed at Honolulu International, our first impression was that Hawai’i people walk at half the speed of New Yorkers. In New York everyone seems to be on a mission, as if they’re going to miss the train to somewhere. Where we were, the city was clean and felt safe and the police were visible and personable. The people are fine and I have a favorable impression of New Yorkers. We like New York City very much and are eager to return.
But I like to walk around slowly with my hands in my shorts pockets. It’s hard to do that in New York City.
We took in four musicals. The Color Purple was very good. Everyone was teary except me. I just had a runny nose.
Chicago was really funny and enjoyable. Rosie O’Donnell, with her partner and some friends, sat five rows in front of us. She seemed very approachable and the people around her in the audience seemed to genuinely like her. She smiled and acknowledged Kapono. We liked her too.
We went to the Saturday evening performance of The Phantom of the Opera and sat in the front mezzanine. Amazing how the smallest sound can be heard so clearly. There are theatres up and down 44th street. We had seen The Phantom at the Blaisdell on O’ahu and so we knew the story. But there is nothing like experiencing it in New York City.
We saw The Producers last. You’d have to be crazy to think up that story line–of making money by financing the show using funds provided by little old ladies, then keeping the difference if the show flops. The expectation is that the worse the show, the more money they can keep. And then having a financial disaster, because the unlikely musical about Adolph Hitler is a big hit. But that’s Mel Brooks for you.
We loved it all. From blocking the whole sidewalk on Broadway waiting for doors to open up for The Color Purple; to going to our seats for The Phantom of the Opera and walking down steps so steep we felt like we were going to fall off the mezzanine; to going to Juniors for cheese cake after the show; to dodging the traffic while crossing in the middle of the block like veteran New Yorkers after The Producers; to sitting on the sidewalk outside of Starbucks watching people go by. It was all lots of fun.
We caught a cab to Chelsea Market, the home of The Food Network. We discovered gelato for the first time. Wow. It tastes like good ice cream, only better. Would have blown my diet if I had one. We ordered a sandwich at Ruthy’s Bakery and ate it outside in the hallway watching the people go by. They had the most interesting variety of sandwiches. They all looked tasty.
It will be good to have some of these sandwiches at the Farmers Market gift shop/deli we are planning to build at “The Gears” property, which we own. It consists of 13 acres fronting the highway where the Sugar Mill Road meets Highway 19 in Pepe’ekeo. We will start the permitting process soon.
The best food deal was a $3.50 slice of jalapeno pizza at the Grand Central Station. It had a thin crust with tasty tomato-something sauce with sundried tomatoes and just the right amount of bite and taste from the jalapenos. It would have been perfect with anchovies. We ran down with the crowd and squeezed into the subway shuttle to Times Square and 42nd Street. We poured out into the streets with everyone else but stood behind a post so we could get our bearing without getting swept along out of control.
We went to the Empire State Building with a friendly cab driver. I asked him why cab drivers blow their horns. He said they can only blow their horn in case of imminent danger. They risk a $350 fine if they sound their horn for any other reason. I guess there must be danger everywhere.
How about the weird, six-person bicycle, where the driver is facing the right way and the other five are in a circle facing the center and pedaling like hell? Crazy young people having fun. We were stopped at a traffic light and one flew by with the rest of the cross traffic and a group of young kids on the sidewalks gave them an ovation. We had to grin.
Where do the vendors go with their carts when they’re done for the day? It seems like there is a cart on every corner. The cab driver said there are several warehouses down by the Hudson River that replenish the carts during the evenings. So the vendors push their carts back in the evening and go get it the next morning. That’s a long push. They must make money.
After 50 minutes of standing in lines, we finally arrived at the Empire State Building’s 86-floor observation deck for a 360-degree view of the City. Because we had been all over the city, we were familiar with many of the prominent landmarks. Looking to the North, there was the GE and Met Life Building. So, our hotel must be a little to the left and short of the GE building. Further up was Central Park. That must be the pond where we sat on the benches. To the right, the Upper East Side and Eli’s. Further up, Harlem and the Bronx. To the left was the Hudson River and to the right, the East River. Facing the East, there is the United Nations building and across the East River, Queens and Brooklyn. To the south, Greenwich Village, the financial district and in the haze, the Statue of Liberty. We’re glad we came here on the last day. The view is so much more meaningful after having put some time in on the ground.
Our last couple of days were rainy. We’re veterans at the hotel by now. The greeter recognizes us and tells us she will miss us when we leave. We are starting to nod knowingly when newly arriving guests look around disoriented.
They’re just like us with the revolving doors. We eventually figured out that they are supposed to keep on revolving smoothly, not jerky like when we first encountered them. June says it was me who made the revolving doors jerky. It kept talking to us: “Please move to the front.” Now we’re smooth.
The elevators go from A to N and are computer routed. Punch in the floor that you want and the key pad tells you which elevator is going to that floor. And you need to get in that elevator, which will only stop on the floors pushed. There are no buttons inside the elevator.
A person asked, as I got out and the door started to close, where are the buttons? He must have followed someone in and did not push the button for his floor. I could not react in time to tell him to get out and punch in his floor number on the keypad outside. I think he is still on that elevator.
New York is great fun, and we have to go back again. But it’s nice to be home.
