Ken vs. the City

There’s been more blaze orange in Central Park these last few weeks than I’ve ever seen in Wisconsin during deer hunting season. A couple of famous artists payed the city of New York several million dollars to create more than a thousand blaze orange — excuse me — “saffron” colored gates throughout Central Park.

The exhibition has been up for a while. Last time I went to go see them it started to rain, but I made it up town yesterday and took a few pictures. There certainly are a lot of them. Each gate is made of a square metal framework and has a piece of matching canvas hanging down from the top, draping over the path below. They call it Saffron. I call it Blaze Orange. You say Tom-ay-to I say Tom-ah-to.

I’m no expert on art, and I found myself saying “I don’t get it” several times on my walk through the park. But they do look kinda pretty in a lawn-ornament kind of way, especially when you walk through a bunch of them all in a row. Everything takes on an orange tint. It’s like looking through and amber-tinted paintball mask.

For a wierd artsy projects it’s drawn a lot of visitors to the park. Even the First Lady was up there when the exhibit first opened. And when it snowed a week later people went up to see it again because of the change of scenery.

They say Central Park is New York’s backyard. I’d get a little angry if someone, artist or not, put up blaze orange gates all over my back yard. But they do look nice in the right kind of light and they’re only temporary. The exhibit closes in a few days, but it will take a while to remove all the gates. Maybe I’ll go up and shoot some more pictures if the weather is nice.

Deer hunters in Central Park? No. It’s the Gates.

A gate in front of W83rd st.

The Gates go marching on.

Crocodile Dundee once said “Seven million people all wanting to live together. New York must be the friendliest place on Earth.” And while it’s certainly not true, it’s not as much of a crock as you might think.

People here are just as nice as they are in any other city. They’re just in a little bit more of a hurry. People still smile at you and say thank you when you hold the door open for them. But there are a lot of people here; consequently there are a larger number of jerks. And jerks tend to stand out. Here are some simple common-sense ways to avoid jerky people.

1. Don’t be a jerk. Smile. Be a nice guy. Everybody hates a jerk. Even jerks.
2. Stay out of people’s way. A lot of people in New York are in a hurry. If they think you’re standing in their way, people have a tendency to lash out.
3. Speak the truth wisely. Believe it or not, most people don’t like it told “like it is.” Especially if it’s something about them. When you speak the truth, speak with caution.
4. Help people. Everybody loves an ally.

Here are some types of people who tend to be more jerk-prone than others.

1. People in a hurry. Watch out around rush hour. Everyone’s pushing to get wherever they’re going.
2. Drivers. The streets in New York are stressful. If you’re driving, use your horn sparingly and be patient. The sound of a horn sounds like an insult to a stressed driver. And if you’re a pedestrian, look both ways before crossing the street and look out for taxi cabs. The yellow ones don’t stop.
3. Liberals. Not to say that there aren’t nice liberals or jerky conservatives out there, but a greater number of liberals tend to be angrier people. If your opinion differs from theirs, voice it with caution.
4. Restaurant workers during the lunch rush. There are a lot of people they’re trying to serve in a short period of time. Don’t hold up the line and decide what you want quickly. And I hear there actually is a Soup Nazi somewhere uptown.

Here are some types of people who tend not to be jerks.

1. People trying to do business with you. They can’t make a buck if you get pissed off and leave. For them jerk=no repeat business.
2. Your friends. I know your friends can be jerks at times, but they mean well. And usually they care about you. If they have something negative to say about you, listen up. You probably need to hear it. As the good book says, “faithful are the wounds of a friend.”
3. The cops. Despite what you may see on TV, the cops actually tend to be nice people. Got a problem? Ask a cop. Just make sure you aren’t a drug dealer or a murderer or anything.
4. Kids. Kids can be real jerks sometimes, but usually just to other kids or to their parents. If you see a kid, smile. Chances are they’ll smile back.

Obviously I’m not the be-all end-all jerkauthority. If you think I’m wrong, or there’s something I left off the list, just leave a comment. Don’t believe everything you see on TV. People here are just as human as people anywhere. No more, no less.

Here’s a view from the South Street Seaport. It’s an old pier that was converted into a little mall. I use the internet in the food court just about every day — sending out those resumes y’know.

Here’s a shot from the Chinese New Year parade last weekend.

This morning I looked out the apartment window. To my right I saw the stone towers of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan Bridge beyond that. To my left I saw the Verizon building and city hall. The window faces south and I saw New York stretched out before me like a great collection of tools and material, each item with a purpose and each item, if used right, capable of creating something great. So many buildings with people in them.

I think that every person comes to this city to create something. Some build a world according to their own desires, something that’s here today, stands for a little while, and the blown away like cigarette dust. Some will build an empire that’s here for a flash, high and mighty and inspirational that ultimately means nothing. A few will build some small and beautiful thing that will last for ever because it’s built on love. But most people will put their aspirations aside, build nothing at all and trudge along with everyone else.

I can’t help worrying what I will make of it. I’ve only been here about five weeks now and I know this city is bigger than I ever thought. When I moved here a friend of mine called it a concrete cage. He meant it as an exaggeration to describe how depressing the city can be, but I mean it as a description of this great city’s personality. Everything in New York really is fifty feet taller whether you can see it or not.

I’ve called myself a city mouse before. I really do feel a bit overwhelmed like a little mouse in a great big canyon. It’s not a cage to confine but a peak to be ascended. I am afraid that I will fail and build a life that will ultimately pass away like everything else that people build, but I also know that’s not true. I know that I will fall sometimes, but God will never let me fall into darkness.

Like it or not, fair or not, he has his hand on me. And no matter what distraction my eyes follow, I look up to him, not as one person to another but as a son to a father. I guess I’m not the one to build with these tools. It’s God. He is the great creator after all.

My job is to build with the things I find here. When God built Adam, he built a leader to govern the things of the world and in turn build with them. I am not the King of this life. I never was, but I was meant to govern and build. I just need to keep perspective. The toolbox is a big one, but God is bigger.

I looked at my hands and realized I’m another tool in the box, a beloved one. It’s not me who’s building anything. It’s God all along.

I like free food, free music, free software and those free plastic spoons of ice cream you get at Baskin Robbins. So it’s no surprise I like my internet service the same way — free.

All you need to get free wireless in Manhattan is a wireless laptop and a pair of walking shoes. If you don’t want to hoof it, you can also buy a $2.00 ride on the subway. I usually use the wireless access point at the South Street Seaport provided by the Downtown Alliance, since it’s close to where I’m staying. The Alliance is a community organization that cleans up the streets and provides services like the free wireless. You sometimes see them in downtown Manhattan in their red uniforms picking up trash or helping little old ladies cross the street.

The Downtown Alliance also provides wireless access at City Hall Park, Bowling Green Park, the World Financial Center Winter Garden, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, 1 New York Plaza, the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, and Stone Street.

So far the connection at the Seaport food court is the only one I’ve used, but the connection speed is pretty good, it’s up all the time, and I haven’t had any problems with it.

Another access point I’ve used is in Bryant Park, right behind the New York Public Library between 40th and 42nd street. This one’s outside, so you might not want to use it in the rain, but as soon as spring gives us a nice sunny day I’m going to plop myself down in one of the many chairs they have out there, enjoy the sun, the green grass, and the chirping birds and access www.homestarrunner.com to see what Strongbad has to say about life.

Yesterday I was on the N train and I saw a guy carrying a black plastic bag full of bottles. He was old and bummish looking. He had lots of wrinkles and I think his left eye was blind. His hands looked swollen and cracked. There must’ve been three or four bottles in that bag from the way they clanked against each other.

There were a whole bunch of kids in the car too. They were all laughing and talking to each other. The old bum guy took out a bottle of malt liquor from the bag (it must’ve been about 40 oz.) and proceeded to down it right there on the train. One of the kids saw him and said “Aww man, Chugg-a-lugg.” and the rest of the kids joined in “Chugg-a-lugg chugg-a-lugg chugg-a-lugg.”

The guy *only* finished half the bottle and all the kids went “awww” The guy smiled and mumbled something about it being his birthday. He finished off the rest of that bottle and pulled out another. A shout went through the train car. This time everyone started yelling “Chugg-a-lugg chugg-a-lugg chugg-a-lugg.” This time the guy finished the whole bottle and let out a little burp. Everybody cheered.

I couldn’t help but laugh while everybody was cheering for this guy. It was so ridiculous. But at the same time I felt sick because it was wrong. Booze isn’t cheap. And this guy obviously needed more than booze.

It’s like a freak show after 12:00 sometimes– simultaneously revolting and intreaguing. Just be careful, find out what people really need, and find a way to give it to them because it’s obviously not booze and it’s obviously not entertainment, though some find both easily.

Here’s a real treat: I went out with some friends I’ve met last night to an Irish pub. Our waiter was an Irish guy with a cool Irish accent. And get this… He was wearing an honest-to-goodness kilt. How cool is that?

There’s something about those Irish that just make kilts cool. Non-Irish Americans can’t do it, the English can’t do it, and certainly half-Chinese people like me can’t do it. When I spoke to my grandmother later she laughed and said she always wondered what they wear under those things.

If you ever go to an Irish pub here in New York, order something called “Bangers and Mash.” It’s mashed potatoes with sausages in it. Wash it all down with something called “cider.” You won’t regret it unless you have too much of the “cider.”

So I decided to publish one of these bloggie things. Now everyone will know exactly what I’m thinking and can help me unravel the mystery that is me. Good luck America.

New York sure is a strange place. Everybody’s moving. And despite all the cars and public transportation there sure is a lot of walking to do. If you come here, my advice to you is to get a good pair of walking shoes. At the rate I’m going, I’m going to need to re-sole my Doc Martins in about six months.