Snoopy skating through Columbus Circle in 1987. In 2018, it was nearly 100 Years for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, a Children’s Pilgrimage of Wonder. Wait, wait, shiver, delight. (Photo by Sara Krulwich / The New York Times)
Names written in the pale sky. Names rising in the updraft amid buildings. Names silent in stone. Or cried out behind a door.
September 11, 2018 by 37 Comments
Notes:
- Post Title: From Billy Collins’ poem “The Names” dedicated to the victims of September 11 and to their survivors.
- Photo Source: New York Post, Photos on the World Trade Center Attacks.
Walking Mid Town. With Keats…
August 29, 2018 by 39 Comments
Early evening. Heat shimmers from the asphalt. I stand waiting for the Don’t Walk sign to turn…I’m three blocks from the entrance to Grand Central and my Metro North train ride home. Hulking skyscrapers, mid-town Manhattan Gods, offer shade, a welcome cover to a day that needs to end. You are spent.
And…as I stand waiting, here they come. Non consecutive lines from the Keats’ sonnet Bright Star…
The moving waters at their priestlike task…
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors —
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell
And why Keats? Why this poem? Why these lines? Why now? What algorithm upstairs decides it’s time for this? Here on 42nd Street, so far from the glacial waters of Home, so many galaxies from The Rockies, so many months from snow. Yet, and somehow, and for some reason, it’s pulled up.
I feel the pillowy softness of snow in August, and the cool melt of crystals on my tongue. And I’m swept away, miles from the cacophony of horns, engines, tourists and the sweltering August heat.
The light turns. I walk. I cross the street and the smell of fried chicken fills my lungs…I inhale deeply…tantalizing. Keats’ grip on me vaporizes. [Read more…]
Riding Uptown. Man on Venus. Man on Mars.
August 1, 2018 by 50 Comments
“How long to Grand Central?”
“20 minutes, maybe 30, it’s Rush Hour.”
Uber driver. Black Toyota Camry. Leather seats worn. Dashboard tanned with thousands of hours of direct sunlight.
“Your English is good. Where are you from?”
He glances at me in the rear view mirror. Reticent.
“Ethiopia, Sir.”
“How long have you been here?”
“9 years.”
“And your family? Are they here or back in Ethiopia?”
“Oh, they’re all back in Ethiopia. I’m here with my wife.”
“Do you miss home?”
Long pause.
“People think it’s easy. Here in America.” He pulls up. Polite, respectful.
I shift the conversation. We’re a few minutes out.
“You have a 4.94 (out of 5) driver rating. Wow. That’s something. How do you do it?”
“I don’t know Sir.” He smiles.
“I’m curious. Out of 10 rides, how many riders tip?” [Read more…]
Thousands pass every day, not one of them seeing the same thing
June 1, 2018 by 29 Comments
You swallow hard when you discover that the old coffee shop is now a chain pharmacy, that the place where you first kissed so-and-so is now a discount electronics retailer, that where you bought this very jacket is now rubble behind a blue plywood fence and a future office building. Damage has been done to your city. You say, ‘It happened overnight.’ But of course it didn’t. Your pizza parlor, his shoeshine stand, her hat store: when they were here, we neglected them. For all you know, the place closed down moments after the last time you walked out the door. (Ten months ago? Six years? Fifteen? You can’t remember, can you?) And there have been five stores in that spot before the travel agency. Five different neighborhoods coming and going between then and now, other people’s other cities. Or 15, 25, 100 neighborhoods. Thousands of people pass that storefront every day, each one haunting the streets of his or her own New York, not one of them seeing the same thing.”
– Colson Whitehead, The Colossus of New York
Notes: Quote via Schonwieder. Photo by PWH3 of New York City side street
Sunday Morning
April 29, 2018 by 16 Comments
Let’s ease in softly on a pretty day. Spring came to New York this week after a month of gloomy cold and drizzle. The sun was out. Monday afternoon just before dusk there was a bird outside my window, all by itself and singing so loudly—byeet-byeet-chur-chur-chur. Over and over as if it had just discovered its voice. I was emailing with a friend, your basic hard-bitten journalist, and told him what I was hearing—it sounded like the beginning of the world. He wrote back not with irony but with the information that a band of baby rabbits had just taken over his garden and were out there hopping and bopping: “They are so excited to be on earth.” This struck me as the most important news of the day.
~ Peggy Noonan, What Does This Moment Demand of Us? (wsj.com, April 26, 2018)
Photo: Vivienne Gucwa with New York City in Spring
The Not New Yorker (Christmas 2017)
December 5, 2017 by 17 Comments
Source: “The Not Yorker” is a collection of declined or late cover submissions to The New Yorker, curated by illustrators who love and admire traditional cover illustration. This site is for celebrating cover art, and great ideas that didn’t make it. Illustrators are encouraged to submit their rejected covers , so that they might have the opportunity to be rejected by this group as well. The site is not officially affiliated with The New Yorker
This declined cover is was created by John Tomac and titled “Christmas 2017”.
Sunday Morning
December 3, 2017 by 35 Comments
After a century, humpbacks migrate
again to Queens. They left
due to sewage and white froth
banking the shores from polychlorinated-
biphenyl-dumping into the Hudson
and winnowing menhaden schools.
But now grace, dark bodies of song
return. Go to the seaside—
Hold your breath. Submerge.
A black fluke silhouetted
against the Manhattan skyline …
Our songs will pierce the dark
fathoms. Behold the miracle:
what was once lost
now leaps before you.
~ Rajiv Mohabir, from “Why Whales Are Back in New York City”
Notes:
- Photo: Humpback Whale in New York Harbor: Day 3 by Bjoern Kils.
- Poem Source: 3quarksdaily
T.G.I.F.
November 24, 2017 by 12 Comments
A balloon showing Charlie Brown failing to fly a kite during the 91st Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
As is the modern way, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was buttressed by blockades of sand-filled sanitation trucks, patrolled by sniffer dogs and guarded by police. Heavily armed police patrolled the parade route during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Security was greater and more intensive this year following a deadly truck attack in the city by an alleged terrorist on Halloween.
Source: wsj.com Photos of Macy’s 91st Thanksgiving Day Parade. #1 by Carlo Allegri, Reuters. #3 by Andres Kudacki, AP
Grand Central Terminal. You choose: 1954 or Today?
May 23, 2017 by 28 Comments
Sunlight streams through the windows in the concourse at Grand Central Terminal in New York City in 1954. [Read more…]
