Brooklyn, Baby!

Well, it's official.  Brooklyn is my new home.  I know this because, as I said before, home is where the bear is and I have photo evidence to prove it: 

Bear enjoyed the flight.

I flew in on Tuesday with my dad and around 250 lbs worth of stuff to finalize the move. I wondered why this move seemed to involve more stuff than any previous move, and then it occurred to me that all previous moves were less than an hour away and allowed me to make multiple trips to pick up the random odds and ends I needed.  This move, on the other hand, does not really give me the freedom to leave important possessions behind, and so I am incredibly thankful for Southwest Airlines' generous baggage policy.

My dad had never really had an opportunity to sight-see around New York, so after dropping off everything at the apartment and indulging in pastrami sandwiches at a Kosher restaurant we took the train to Times Square.  Tomm took me there on one of our first nights in New York so naturally, this being my second time, I was a seasoned pro (which does not explain how we both got swindled out of a few dollars...a lesson well-learned).  We marveled at the advertisements, the buildings, the people, the old naked woman with the crazy hair and the guitar not-so-strategically positioned.  We took pictures of everything (except the naked woman - sorry folks) and acted thoroughly touristy.  

Times Square, where
people watching gets
seriously meta.

As far as I can tell, if you're not shopping around there really isn't terribly much to do around Times Square except people watch.  After a fair amount of people watching we made our way to the Empire State Building.  We chose not to spend a ridiculous amount of money to stand in a line and ride an elevator, so we took pictures in the lobby then stopped at a Starbucks in the building and went to the basement instead.  

Ok, I'll admit, seeing Lady Liberty up close
was pretty cool.

The next day we went to the Statue of Liberty.  We didn't plan that one far enough in advance so we didn't even have a prayer of going up to the crown, though I'm told that we should consider ourselves lucky since there is no elevator in Lady Liberty and walking up those stairs in July would have made us wish the French had never given us the statue in the first place.  Thankfully, we maintained our goodwill toward the French by staying at the ground level, walking around the island, and taking pictures.  Once back in Manhattan, we considered walking to the new One World Trade Center, colloquially known as "Freedom Tower."  However it was hot, our feet hurt, I was dehydrated, and we wouldn't have had time to get lunch and make the trek.  Between walking and food, there was a clear winner.  We were in the business district so we weren't exactly surrounded by cute, quaint cafes, but the fruit vendor on the corner had particularly appetizing fare.  Our lunch ended up being fresh fruit from the vendor plus yogurt, coffee, and a pastry from Starbucks, eaten in front of a fountain in a pleasantly shady Bowling Green.

Alas, it was time to go back to the apartment and get ready to take my dad to the airport.  I successfully managed to drive us to La Guardia without inciting too much hatred or ennui in my fellow drivers.  I think I only got honked at once!  

One of the most interesting things about spending a few days in  New York with my dad was that I realized how drastically different some of our experiences were, and all because of our perspectives.  My first time in New York I was bitter.  The people offended my sensibilities and the city offended my senses.  The tall buildings felt imposing and oppressive.  The endless stream of advertisements in Times Square felt like an unwelcome barrage of demands by corporations to Go There! Do This! Buy That!  Conversely, he was impressed and excited, optimistic about everything he experienced.  He stood in awe of the impressive architecture, the beautiful vista of the Manhattan skyline, the wealth and variety of people.  Times Square fascinated him with its sensational displays of people and products.  To him, a man with an artistic photographer's eye, everything was a colorful portrait of life in The City with a brush stroke for every person running past in their own pursuits.  

Looking through the lens of my little camera, there were moments when I, too, saw that beauty.  Every so often a building or a scene would catch my eye and my breath, though I still preferred to behold it from a distance instead of in its midst.  In the last couple days, there were a few people whose kindness was suddenly apparent whereas before I'd found it hard to appreciate.  By the end of the day, I was happy to be back in my apartment with Tomm, feeling perhaps for the first time that I was home.