The Things We Leave Behind

I get homesick for New York sometimes. Not as often as I used to, but in a different way. It used to be a big picture "removed from where you belonged" type of feeling. I missed my friends and alll the aggregates of what it was to live there: my daily commute on the subway, my daily rituals, and places where I liked to hang out. Now, my missing NYC is based on details: seeing a TV show with a stone wall in Central Park and knowing how many times I'd walked/ran past it, just during the day-to-day living in the city. Or watching a movie about baseball and remembering all the Yankees games I'd been to, and how I changed into a baseball fan. Even the weather.

I wish I could let it go, but I doubt that I'll ever be able to do that entirely. It'll always be part of me. New York has such an effect on you, there's nothing to compare with it, and there's no way to even explain it to others. I've had a few friends tell me they were thinking of leaving and I've advised them not to. If there's a regret that I have in my life, it's that I left New York City. You just don't know what you've got until it's gone. Truer words have never been spoken.

For now I'm here, and I need to deal with it.

Me - now with more culture

As I said recently, I need to go to a museum. So I did. Friday (I was off work) I got up and headed over to the Museum of the City of New York. I'd never been before, and was very interested.

I can't say that the museum's ongoing exhibitions, about New York's beginnings as a trading settlement, and New York interiors from 1690-1906, really blew me away. However, It does have a temporary exhibit on the work of Robert Moses that was really cool. Moses, love him or hate him, had arguably the most impact that any one single person has had on the planning of New York City, and it was fascinating to see such a retrospective assembled together like that. It even made me think about writing an article for the newsletter... once I'm no longer editor.

Anyone interested in New York's history, or urban planning in general, should check out the exhibit, which is on until May 28th. Other than that, I wouldn't really recommend the museum. Sorry.

Everyone Counts

After yesterday's post I went out with friends until 3 AM. Now, while that might sound like a good time - and it was - it probably wasn't the good time that you think it was. I participated, with a few Flyers, in the HOPE 2007 New York Street Survey.

That's the Homeless Outreach Population Estimate, where all homeless people are counted throughout NYC. One night of of the year, groups head out with clipboard surveys in hand to stop everyone they meet in the middle of the night, to estimate the numbers of those without shelter. We gathered at a public school at 10:30 or so in East Harlem for our review of the surveys and some simple training, and my group of four headed out to a neighbourhood not far from mine to conduct the count, shortly after midnight.

There aren't very many people out between 12 and 3 AM on a Tuesday, which is a big part of the reason HOPE is conducted on that weeknight. And it being winter, maybe it is felt that more homeless people would take refuge at a shelter somewhere, where I'd assume they could also be counted, reducing the numbers on the street. Or maybe it's done in winter to weigh the seriousness of the problem: how many homeless are out in the cold. And it was a cold night - well below freezing.

Even though we wore big stickers identifying us as conducting an official NYC Survey, we still ran into a small handful of people who were rude and wanted nothing to do with us. For the most part, though, people were pleasant, answered a few questions politely, and allowed us to move on.

I'm happy to report that we found no one on the street whom reported not having a place to stay. Most people cited an apartment as their home, and only man said he stayed in a shelter, that was all. We finished by visiting the 116th St. subway where we also found no one. We headed back to the school, submitted the results, had a donut (or two) and shared a few laughs before packing it in and heading home. As we left, we were given t-shirts... I refused mine at first - being a runner, I have more than enough free t-shirts - but then I changed my mind. It was a nice shirt that had the study's logo on the front and their tagline on the back: "Everyone Counts."

Even though we didn't find anyone homeless in our study area, we know they're out there. Last year's survey found over 3,800 homeless in the city, and you really do have to wonder how many more were tucked away in ATM vestibules or under private stairwells, undiscovered.

In light of my post yesterday, full of the trivial stresses of work and play, this type of activity can really put things into perspective. Not only do I have a roof over my head and wealth beyond what some people can imagine, but I also have friends with good hearts who are giving and caring people willing to help out when the time comes. These are the things worth living for.

Scatterbrained

This is a record low for me: my fifth post in a month. I do realise that I really need to blog though, and this is a break for me - a well-deserved break.

To think things were going to slow down and become more manageable after my posts of two weeks ago was so far removed from reality that it's not even funny. All I've been doing, it feels like, is playing catch up with everything. And from most people, it seems the common thread weaving through everybody's life is "being overwhelmed" by just about everything: work, relationships, responsibilities, etcetera. Isn't January supposed to be a slow month?

Granted, I have some friends who are in much more stressful situations than I. One of them is across the country attending to a very sick family member, and one is recovering from a tough c-section delivery following a stressful pregnancy. One even got mugged recently. Me, I just feel like the trivial aspects of everything are coming at me right and left: work, the new responsibilities of the Flyers' executive board, and even social commitments. In short, I feel spread so thin that I've become transparent.

Someone at the awards gala - a great Flyer and a well-meaning friend - asked me why I didn't have a girlfriend. This is a step beyond his usual question, which is why I'm not married. He and his wife debated, and she chalked it up to my being too picky. That may or may not be true, but the real question I find myself asking is: when would I date? I hardly have time to do my laundry. Cripes, I didn't even get my grocery shopping done this weekend...

It seems like even though I've been actively and consciously participating in all of this stuff, like going to the awards party, attending two friends' birthdays last weekend, meeting deadlines at the office, recording minutes at the executive meeting, and trying to compile a running club newsletter, there's a big part of me that feels separate from it all. I feels as if I've been somehow removed from the conscious world and I'm viewing it from a few feet removed from it. No, maybe more like a few minutes remove from it, like everything is happening a while before I'm aware it is, if that makes any sense at all.

The blog is a good outlet for this, I find. It somehow gives me a sense of control and it, in some way, orders my world a bit. And without it, it feels like nobody's listening. With it, I feel like I'm somehow a bit more present in the world. And what are we if we aren't somehow relating to each other, in a present, conscious way?

This might be all hullabaloo. Some people will blow me off, and some will tell me that I just need to relax. Whatever. Some will argue that I just can't handle the speed of NYC. I never bought that argument. I'd counter that it isn't the speed of NYC that's the issue here. It's the speed of life.

A Different State

I went to a wedding in NJ this past weekend. Getting married was a friend of mine who I've known almost the entire time I've lived in America. She was one of those people that you never envisioned settling down. A real party girl.

But there we were, me and my old NJ crew of friends, at her wedding. I don't hang around much with them anymore, and it was a lot like old times, but in formal dress. We wondered aloud: if we were all there, who was at the local pub where we used to hang out?

I don't have friends in the city like I did when I lived in Montclair, the New Jersey town I where used to live. It was a community, a tight group, and a smaller neighbourhood. Unlike Manhattan, where the choices seem limitless, we only had a few options for our nights out. You always knew where to find someone, and you were always bumping into people you knew. To some extent the smaller neighbourhood exists in other areas, like Brooklyn, Hoboken, and Queens, but their proximity and subway access to Manhattan make them different. I walked to local bars in Montclair. I had a local coffee shop, and knew the best places for pizza or Mexican food. In the City, there are so many different places, and it's all so hit-and-miss. And so, when friends get together in NYC, it's usually a pretty organised Let's get together event, as opposed to a I'm around the corner, why don't you come by event. That's what I miss about Montclair and my friends there the most. That's not to say it never happens here, just not as much. It surprises me after watching Seinfeld and other TV shows that portray NYC neighbourhoods as very tightly knit. Only a few of them are, really.

Then again, maybe I'm just older and reminiscing about something in my life more related to my age than geography. After all, the friend who got married this past weekend wasn't the first of our little clique. A handful of others had already made that leap. Some of them are already parents, who don't go out much anymore. Things change, and people move on.