Return to NYC...

We've all heard that old saying "there's no place like home," but to me, that's a load of bull... I say, "There's no place like the places where I'm not!" I have been back in NYC for a week and a half now, and I'm still missing California heavy. This is not to say that NYC has not welcomed me back in true form.

On my first Friday back, I had the honor of attending a lecture at Riverside Church by Noam Chomsky, one of the great intellects of our age. As usual, he was simultaneously brilliant and soporific. Following, I ran into some old downtown friends from high school outside and we went to grab a bite. The falafels and shwarmas of the Upper West Side hold nothing on "Momouns" of the Village, but it was refreshing for all of us to hang in a different part of town (at least for a few minutes). Next, I stopped through a huge loft party some friends had thrown on the outskirts of SOHO. With B-Boyz, B-Girlz, every other type of dancer, and people of every ethnicity and racial background, it could not have been any more New York!

Once of the things that always puts me out when I travel to other parts of the country and the world, is the lack of integration I see. In San Francisco it was intense, as Latinos, Asians, and White people all seemed to hang, primarily, in their own racial circles... The Black people were all across the bay. In L.A., the segregation of people wasn't as intense, but still obviously present in where people lived and hung out. New York is unique in that no matter how separated people are in terms of where they lay their head at night, we all share the same common areas and thus, interact more (at least far more than most places on the planet).

Last weekend was also the Big Apple BBQ Festival in Madison Park. After staying the majority of my time in Los Angles with a vegetarian, and trying as best I could to eat less meat, this may have been one of the more intense eating weekends of my life. Some of the most popular "Pitmasters" in the country set up on the streets surrounding the park, with their portable smokers and crew. I ate so much pork this weekend, I fear I will officially banned from conversion to several religions!

Luckily, my west coast withdrawal was aided a couple nights ago by the stand up comedy performance of Gabriel Inglesias at Summer Stage in Central Park. Though my friend and I couldn't get into the venue, because it was filled to capacity, we sat outside listening and laughing our heads off. The humor of this Mexican American from California reminded me of the family I had recently spent so much time with. It helped me deal with being back here, but made me miss L.A. even more...

Despite the joy of both BBQ, breakdancing, and seeing friends, I feel like I am just beginning a vacation away from my new life... my true life, that is waiting for me back in California. My love for this great city that raised me will always remain, though how much of that city remains will continue to be the subject of this blog for as long as it moves me. Still, the energy of a new place, seems to have synched with my energy in a way that I have not felt in many years... But until I run west for good, we will continue to search for our Village and city together...

LaLa Land Part 2...

For the record, the stories of driving in LA. are all true... it sucks! I got stuck in traffic for hours heading out east to visit family in Claremont last Wednesday. There is no way around it; you cannot drive between 2:30 pm and 7 pm. Damn I miss my bike! While there is something alluring about the car culture out here, there is no substitute for the joy of walking or running or cycling on a pretty day!

It occurs to me that part what makes life fuller and time pass slower is being present in your journey as much as possible. In a walking city like New York, part of one's daily adventure is the journey to a destination. Out here in L.A., you have to drive places, and thus, the adventure of life is simply the destination. Thoughts like these make me miss the ease of Greenwich Village.. As twisted as I see the neighborhood I grew up in these days, I would give anything to see a stoop around here once in awhile.

However, the ordeal was worth it as the town of Claremont is very cool. There are 7 colleges here, and a village that has been built to serve them. It has grown since last I was here, now containing a new cinema and new museum, and many new businesses including a Jamba Juice and even an American Apparel... I guess this town won't stay quaint for long!

Claremont also has a botanical gardens which I find to be a most peaceful and healing place. I make a point to head there each time I come to visit my aunt and uncle. If I ever moved out west, having a haven like this to come to in order to recharge my batteries would be a great blessing.

I spent the rest of the last week further West, in and around L.A., learning to surf down in Huntington Beach, chilling out in Venice, and seeing old and making new friends everywhere else. It seems that while everyone is worried about the job market out here, they carry their stress far different than people back east. In fact the L.A. Times had a cover story last week about all of the 20 and 30 somethings who have decided to use their severance and/or unemployment checks to take time off from the job hunt and enjoy life. People seem to always have smile on their face which is quite invigorating! I've been at the beach three days straight and I can't shake the smile on mine!

Unfortunately, my vacation/scouting trip is coming to an end tomorrow as I head back to good old New York City, the land that birthed me. But as I observe the rare lack of traffic on the streets due to the Lakers' championship run, I can't help but wonder why anyone would rather live on a river if they could live near the beach. The countdown to a move has already begun...

LaLa Land...

Last Sunday night was my first taste of L.A. life. While I had arrived here on Thursday, May 28^th, most of my first several days in southern California were spent helping prepare for and experiencing one of my best friend's wedding... The Latino culture out here is far more prominent than back east. As you might expect, the Mexican and Mexican-American presence is everywhere. What I find interesting is how different it is from the Puerto Rican/Dominican presence in New York. Mariachi, tamales and tacos, and a ridiculously large wedding party ruled the day. Tequila and Sangria ruled the night. What a grand adventure!

Sunday evening was a pleasure. I had a nice BBQ/dinner with a bunch of New York friends. My home-girl Tam finally made her move from New York to L.A. a couple months ago, leaving a small two bedroom apartment on the border of Little Italy/China Town for an amazing two bedroom near the Beverly Center. When it comes to renting an apartment out here, your dollar gets you far more. Then we went to see Terminator Salvation... a bad movie is bad no matter what state you see it in!

On Monday I went to pick up my new car... no, I didn't buy it, but to get around in L.A. without losing my friend's goodwill I needed to rent one. It never ceases to amaze me that people can live and flourish in a town where walking is as rare as a new job opportunity. Driving around with others I have tried my best to orient myself, looking for any landmarks that could help me when I finally got behind the wheel... to no avail! This city is far too spread out to figure out on the street level. It's the freeways that will guide me as a beginner in this strange city... Glad I brought a G.P.S system with me...

Monday night was also my first experience with In and Out burger, a popular chain out here in Cali. My California friends dragged me, insisting that it wasn't really fast food. They must have some really bad fast food joints out here to make that statement! While I can't say that it was the worst burger experience of my life (in elementary school we called them “snot-burgers”), my fast food fast of 8 years was officially ended, and my stomach hated me for it. Ahh, what I wouldn't give for a Momouns' Falafel right now...

Adventures in Warm Wrinkles...

My third day in San Francisco, a Tuesday, brought a new experience to this New York City boy... We woke up early in the morning and set out bearing north of San Francisco heading to a cliff near Stetson beach. It was a beautiful journey though a mountain range filled with smells and shades of green found sparsely in any city. When we got to the top of the cliff that we were supposed to hike down- and when I write “hike,” what I really mean is “stumble down almost to my death-” I looked out onto the Pacific with a great feeling of joy in my depths.

Then I stumbled down a cliff almost to my death... Once at the bottom safe and sound, we saw the hot springs that we had traveled so far to experience. My friend had said that we might have to dig a bit of a hole to release the hot water, so she brought a small pot! Even as we descended we saw people with shovels who informed us that all preparation had been taken care of already. All that was left was to not get freaked out.

It was a small pool surrounded by rocks and filed with old, naked, hippies! I'm from New York... I do not see random naked strangers very often, so you can imagine how interesting this experience was for me. Earlier in the car I had promised myself I would let go of my social “appropriateness” and shed my clothing for the experience. When I saw who was in the hot spring, I promised myself I would not shed boxers for any amount of money! Sooo, I looked up at the sky a lot that morning, enjoying the warmth of the spring, while ignoring the alien bodies brushing past me. Daron Rainbow Aquarius was an interesting companion. In his 70's, naked, and hairy, and playing his harmonica, Rainbow was an obvious stay over from the free loving, lots' of drugging sixties. He wanted to get the ladies to come back to his boat for the after party, which I am thankful to write did not happen.

The ocean was quite refreshing though, and provided an excuse to get some of my personal space back. In truth, it was an experience that I'm glad I didn't miss. It was what I had read about the past, alive and now experienced. I suppose the adventure showed me just how free spirited I really am, or more accurately, how free spirited I am not. Yet, in the journey of shedding the yoke of social conditioning to what is acceptable and normal, in the pursuit of what is natural, I took another step. Next time though, I'll hope for the Playboy mansion... ;)

I left my ability to function in New York in San Francisco, part 1

Thursday, May 28th:

When I left for San Francisco, I was convinced that I would find the time to write about my journey and subsequent adventures a couple times a day. The idea was to compare the city to New York and explore the reverence for the "old days" that the people of the "Bay" are rumored to have. New Yorkers seem to have it as well but not on a tangible level which is why everything is changing so quickly in the city that never sleeps. Boy was that a foolish thought! Time for writing was rare. Five days in the city on the bay was simultaneously intense and relaxing and as I sat in the airport waiting for a plane to L.A., I was already preparing for my return.

This was my second journey to the Bay area, and my first alone-- that last time, in 2001, I came with a girlfriend. I remember leaving, all those years ago, with the knowledge that I would be back, and that I would one day know what living here felt like. Well I returned, and though only for a short time, I can once again picture the life I might lead if I packed up and headed west.

The hardest part for a New Yorker of living, and even just visiting San Francisco, is laying all your troubles to the side. New Yorkers are hardwired for the hectic life of the Big Apple. We are always running around, rushing from one appointment to the next, and always, “time” is on our minds.

Out here, people are slloooowwwweerrrr. They take their time, seldom in a hurry and unfortunately, sometimes with little thought to the schedules of others. Some places force you to accept their cultural eccentricities to enjoy them. Without accepting the slow , easy going pace of the Bay area, it is very easy to get angry at people for messing with your time.

Personally, I have never been good with time. As a grad school professor once referred to it, “some people are never on time, they are in time.” One would think that I would fit in perfectly here, and for the first couple days I did. However, due to the shortness of my trip, there were many people I felt I needed to see and little time to cram them all in. On my third day I found myself stranded with people north of the city in the most beautiful of beach settings... but I needed to get back to the city ASAP and they weren't getting it. At a certain point, with my pleas going unheard, I snapped.

New York toughness is a byproduct of the high level of stress, and action in the city. If you aren't strong and competitive it is hard to succeed and survive. Unfortunately, in this case, my inability to fall into the Californian state of mind, coupled with my own frustration and feeling that I was being disrespected allowed my most New York side out.

In retrospect, I realize that much of the problems of that day had to do with the differences in how I approach time to how others do. While I should be a perfect fit for a city based on the concept of “In Time,” the circumstances of my visit, specifically the shortness of it, did not allow me to fully take in the experience. Luckily tickets are cheap these days and this time I am sure it will not take me another 8 years to return and try again...

A night I remember...

Some things that I took for granted as a kid, I now look to for rejuvenation and fulfillment. Saturday May 16th was the annual Bedford, Barrow, Christopher Street fair. As a kid it was always fun to hang out in the middle of the street, exploring the hundreds of vendors while eating corn on the cob and dancing into the evening with friends and family. But as I got older and preoccupied with the teenage life, the magic of the fair diminished or at least, was forgotten. However, living here again these last few years after spending seven in Massachusetts, I have come to find that there are few things in the neighborhood that remind me of the way Greenwich Village was when I was a kid.

Admittedly, being old enough to drink provides the occasion with a different twist from my youth; My friends and I sipped bottle after bottle of wine throughout the afternoon and into the night. But, it was the live bands that played until 11 p.m. and how they invigorated the dozens of street dancers, from toddlers to their grandparents (some of whom I'm sure were a bit tipsy themselves) that made the event so special. It felt like "neighborhood" was still alive and well in the West Village.

Perhaps my constant frustration with the changes I see all around me need not be so consistent. Maybe, just maybe, there is still magic left here from the days past, and possibly even the chance that I may witness new magical G.V. traditions in the future... or maybe it will only be for one night a year...

Regardless, the B.B.C. fair cured my chronic nostalgia for a while, reminding me why I call NYC home.

Loss of Mystique Countdown...

Yesterday my good friend and neighbor informed me that he was moving to Miami.  To be more specific, what he said was that he was moving to Miami in 2 weeks!  This certainly came as a shock to me as he is the most popular guy on my block.  When he moved here from England he did so with an idea of what living in a New York City neighborhood was supposed to be like.  But when he got to this neighborhood much of that community feeling that the West Village once had was dissipated,so he he did his best to recreate that feeling all around him. In the summer he hangs out on his stoop when he's not working or at the gym or riding his motorcycle.  Everyone who walks by gets a hello, and most of the time he knows the person. 

So when he told me he was moving after ten years on the block I was a bit confused. All that love I thought he had for G.V. yet he was still able to just pick up and book it at moments notice... Thus the question of the day is: How long does it take for Greenwich Village to lose its mystique?

The rent is no longer affordable, the food is outrageously overpriced, most of the tenants would never have fit into what G.V. was twenty years ago...  Still, my buddy was able meet and even introduce me to newer members of the community who I, with my nostalgic chip on my shoulder, would never would have thought twice about speaking to...

The constant is always that things change.  But whether or not they have changed for the better is the real question. I suppose for my buddy, with the constant cycling of new people in and out of the area, the insane increase in the price of living, living in GV had become as much of a burden as it was an adventure... Plus he got robbed the other day, something that could happen anywhere. I guess he figures it's time to try living anywhere else...