"Here Is New York"

This is what I observed yesterday while crossing the Brooklyn Bridge (for the first time!): “City of bridges, islands and islands, boats anchored beyond Governors Island. Promise of journey to other lands.”

This is what E.B. White wrote in “Here Is New York”:

I am told this is the greatest seaport in the world, with 650 miles of waterfront, and ships calling here from many exotic lands, but the only boat I’ve happened to notice since my arrival was a small sloop tacking out of the East River night before last on the ebb tide when I was walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. I heard the Queen Mary blow one midnight, though, and the sound carried the whole history of departure and longing and loss.

Overheard on the subway one night, said by a teenage boy: “If I live to be 50, I’m going to kill myself.”

Not So Secure

Andy Bowers makes a very good point here on a loophole in airport security.

The Best Place in the World

According to Sperling’s Best Places, the best place for me to live is Boston, followed by San Francisco; the Washington, D.C., area (where I grew up); Long Island; or New York City. Chicago, where I used to live and loved, comes in number 9, after Minneapolis-St. Paul (have considered), Pittsburgh (disliked the one time I visited), and Baltimore (seems to be an up-and-coming city). A number of other tempting places appear in my list, including Seattle, Denver, and Philadelphia.

The notion of a best place is an interesting one. I still remember something a friend told me once. She and her family used to live in a valley in Virginia; however, they had nothing in common with their neighbors. Now that they live outside of Chicago, they appreciate all the friends they’ve been able to make, though their current home isn’t as beautiful as their former place.

Interesting too because I’d always thought I’d end up in Boston someday. I had the chance to attend graduate school in Boston but decided that, after being in Chicago for so long, Boston might feel too “provincial.” Now that I’m in New York City though, I’m aware of how expensive it is to live here. I know New York has some diehard fans, but frankly, I don’t know if it’s all worth it. I don’t think the quality of life is very good in this city even if it has many wonderful things.

Sometimes I wonder if that old saying is true, that home is where the heart is. That the best place to be is where one’s heart is, regardless of what a place can offer.

The Reporting Life

I reported on the Millrose Games at Madison Square Garden last Friday for a local paper, the Queens Ledger. It was my first time reporting on an event where I was actually an accredited reporter (ah, the swagger a media pass puts into one’s walk). The press room is deserving of a satirical article, one which I won’t attempt. But I will describe it.

The John Condon Press Room is located on the sixth floor of Madison Square Garden. I walked in and immediately got the impression that I’d stepped into an airport lounge. There was a long oak bar on the back wall of the lounge, square tables and chairs arranged around the floor, TVs hung in the corners of the room, and dark wall-to-wall carpeting. The back room was where the magic happened: it was illuminated by fluorescent lights and the walls were lined with cubicles, each with an outlet, a Internet connection, and a plaque with the name of a different newspaper. When I walked in, half an hour before the games started, several people were already there. Everyone had a laptop and the photographers had spread out some of their equipment on the long tables.

A buffet dinner was served, though one had to pay $5, which would go to charity. So no, the media weren’t wined and dined by the event promoters.

Trying to figure out where to sit inside Madison Square Garden once the games began was a whole other matter. There were several press boxes, but the ones closest to the floor were reserved for the big papers. Everyone else could sit in the North or South Press Box, which were quite a distance from the floor. My editor wanted me to write a story involving human drama, not just times and records, so I was really stumped about what to report. For one, I’d never reported on sports before. I have no clue about terminology and the races were so quick that I barely had time to note down what was happening. Coincidentally, I ran into a friend from school when I took a random empty seat. He was a seat away, there to watch the games, and he explained to me what was going on. Eventually though, I circled the arena, going up and down the tiers and looking for people in track outfits, in order to find the human drama for my story.

Some Bad Designs

1) When the credit card/debit card swipe machine at a grocery store is just to the cashier’s left, instead of diagonal to the cashier (about a foot past the conveyor belt scanner). People in line tend to shuffle up and move you along as the cashier scans your purchases. By the time you’re ready to pay, the person in line behind you is practically on top of you–not a good thing if you’re paying by debit.

2) A credit card/debit card swipe machine that’s installed too high. I saw one that was maybe five and a half to six feet off the ground. That might not be a problem if you’re tall, but if you’re below six feet, you might not feel comfortable punching in your PIN in full view of everyone behind you.