Life goes on...

New philosophy for today: F it.

Tired of all the crap in the world. Tired of murder and mayhem and people arguing about the superiority of OSX versus XP. Tired of dry bread and rude pedestrians and crashing browsers. Tired.

So, for today, and today only: F it. I'm not going to let it get to me: F it. The reality of my life is decent enough, and my imagined life is unparalleled, so: F it.

Today, I won't make a difference in the world. I won't make shake things up. I won't care.

Ah, F it. I do care and I do want to make a difference and that lady on the sidewalk pissed me off and so did Bush. And I don't like dry bread or old Macs.

F it.

A year of blambles

So fearless reader(s?), it has come on that all irrelevant one year anniversary of my first blog. I'm not going to review the year or anything like that.

Instead, let's talk about toasters. I walked past this bank today that had a window full of toasters. I assume they give them out with a bank account. At least, that's what they used to do. I remember - or, at least, remember hearing about - banks giving out appliances to new customers. Which leads to the question: Why toasters? Of all the things to give out, why appliances?

I can understand why this new bank would give out toasters (and they're nice Cuisinart toasters too), it's a nostalgia gimmick thing. But why did they begin giving out toasters?

So, as I look back on a year of pointless blambles, a year that began with an attempt to develop a fictional character and ended with a question about toasters, I can only realize that this blog has no redeeming social value. But maybe it made someone smile, a little.

And that's good enough.

Fictional Begginnings: noir

I had 14 pounds of cat on my feet and 98 pounds of woman draped across my chest when the phone rang. Phone calls at three in the morning are usually one of two things: drunken idiots or bad news. Sometimes both.

I was hoping for idiots but betting on trouble as I fumbled for the phone...

Oh yeah...

Happy New Year!

Quick Question

Is belief in the idea of a thing the same as believing in the thing itself?

Demarcation

The strike is over - for now - and there was much rejoicing. My feet are sore, my legs are numb and I need new sneakers, but I survived. In fact, we all survived. New York is nothing if not resilient.

Walking across the Brooklyn bridge and down queens boulevard and through midtown and... well, walking gave me time to think on things, and I started thinking about life in this city.

Life in New York is something that really has to be experienced. No matter how many stories you hear or movies you see, you can't truly understand it until you live it. Part of that is sheer volume. Can you really picture in your mind 7 million people? What about 9 million? You have to live it to learn it. But that's another discussion.

What I want to talk about is being a New Yorker. There are several arbitrary ideas about what is required to be a New Yorker. Some say you have to live here for 5 years, some say 6, others 8. A few claim you have to be born and raised here, but I'm not buying that. In fact what it comes down to is badges.

You see, every New Yorker wears this invisible sash declaring "I'm a New Yorker" (and, in small invisible print "Who the F@#* are you?"). And attached to that sash are the badges that they wear proudly declaring their New Yorkerdom.

Some of the badges are small and easily acquired:I put up with long lines for everything; I ride underground an hour each way to work and call it a good commute; I have an EZ-Pass; I have a year-long Metrocard; I know how to get to Times Square/empire State Building/the Statue of Liberty and how to avoid them ass well; I know where to get cheap Broadway tickets without a line; etc. These are the badges for the little horrors and privileges that are part of city life. They add up, but are so easily come by they have little value.

Then there are the medium size badges, the things that happen, but not too often: I was here during the blizzard of 20XX; I was here when the 59th Street bridge was shut down; I was here during the republican convention; a man peed on me once.

I have my fair share of small and medium badges, but they're no worth much. They have a lot of value out in the red states and other hinterland area, but everyone has them around here.

These smaller badges are part of the New York sash, but it's the big ones that are required to truly be a New Yorker.

I just missed out on the largest badge ever awarded. I moved here the year after 9/11, and people who lived through the falling of the towers are rightly proud of that. That one badge made you an instant New Yorker (for those who care, I was 90 miles away in Connecticut).

I have however lived through two major New York events - both coincidentally involving subway woes. The first was the blackout of 2003. While many experienced the blackout, the city was hardest hit as millions had to find a way home.

The second badge was, of course this week's Transit Strike. In my walks I was attempting to find positives in the strike and I finally did. I don't care what any other New Yorkers want to say about the 6-year rule, I've been a part of a distinctly New York moment. I've crossed the line, received the badge, ordered the t-shirt: Finally, I'm a New Yorker. And anyone who want to argue can go f@#* themselves.

Game on!

Strike commutting is a pain, but we New yorkers have risen to the occasion and joined together against the inconvenience.

Fortunately, the union has agreed to return to work (though it is slightly funny to hear them complaining that they're having trouble getting to work!).

This being New York, the strike should be forgotten by Saturday.

Happy Holidays.

A bit of holiday spirit

In an otherwise inconvenient day, a little cheer did fall.

While riding the PATH train - see post about transit strike below - I happened to glance out the window and catch sight of a colorfully lit Christmas tree tucked into an aclove along the tunnel underneath the Hudson River.

I don't know if it was put there officially, or by workers having fun, or maybe by a tunnel resident. Whoever placed that bit of cheer in the dank tunnels, I thank you. My day went a little better after that.

The R Train will not be running today

They're out. They struck, they walked, I walked. For the first time in 25 years the public transportation system of the city of New York has been shuttered by its workers. It's a tale of misinformation, greed, and plain stupidity on the part of both the MTA(metropolitan Transit Authority) and TWU(Transit Workers' Union). They're all asses. 

 Let me put this in perspective for those readers out in the hinterlands(meaning, beyond the NYC metro area). Have you ever had your car battery die and had to scramble for a way to get to work? Now, imagine if the car batteries died on the entire population of Massachusetts and the neighboring state of New Hampshire or Rhode Island(choose one). That's kind of what this is like. Over 7 million riders are left looking for a new way to get to work. 

Granted, we've known about this possibility for some time, but it's still a shock to realize that the workers are that stupid and selfish. 

 But there is hope. After all, New York is great at banding together in a crisis. Last time the subways went out - the blackout of 2003 - we still all got home and to work by helping each other. And the operators of taxi's, vans and livery cabs have been helping out this time. Granted, they're getting paid, but they're still helping out. 

 My odyssey began with the prospect of a 2 1/2 mile walk to the nearest commuter rail (only the MTA subways and buses are stopped due to the strike, commuter rail from Long Island, upstate and Connecticut are still running. Fortunately, I walked by a van that needed more passengers to meet the restrictions set by Mayor Bloomberg. I was able to get into midtown Manhattan for $5. Not bad considering a)the train would have cost $4, and b)I later learned that people were lined up for blocks to get onto the trains. 

 From Midtown(the middle of the island) I was able to get a PATH train downtown(the bottom tip of the island) and walk to work. PATH trains are yet another subway system which runs in New York, serving sections of midtown, downtown and Jersey. The whole thing took 2.5 hours for what is normally a 45 minute ride. 

 

So, this strike may cause severe economic damage to the city. And is a few steps beyond an inconvenience. But, we New Yorkers will survive it. We get through everything else, what's a little transit strike?

EDIT from the future: it was easy to be angry with everyone in the moment, but the anger towards the workers was misplaced. I would no longer call them selfish or stupid. With the advantage of time and life experience, it's easier to understand the situation they had to figure out.