GOOD PRESS, BAD PRESS

There has been a lot of bad press concerning the NYPD over the past year. The reaction at the Empire State Building, the wanton destruction of 3,000 book from the People's Library at Zucotti Park, the disproportionate Stop & Frisk, and the hate posts on Facebook have not cast the department in a favorable light. However, my own experience has been good, especially in the everyday encounters with Civilian Traffic Agents (traffic cops). During morning rush hours, I've seen some musical varieties that would make Leonard Bernstein proud:

Ms. Salsa--she dances while directing the cars coming off the 59th Street bridge and when I say dancing I mean a full body high octane routine.
Mr. Wrist Action--he holds his arm straight up as though he were the Statue of Liberty. His fingers twirl to indicate speed and location. Is it an optical illusion or can he, like owls, rotate 360 degrees?
Mrs. Yeller--she's a cheerleader who never had her 15 minutes of fame and is making up for that lost ambition.
The New Guy--ramrod straight, he has a piercing whistle which can probably be heard to the Bronx. There is no leeway in his composition book.

I have not seen anyone become angry or impatient or act ill-treated. These are those "who play well with others." My mother was expressive in her speech. The city was teeming. The heat was beastly. She would have not used party as a verb. Whatever the occasion, it was described in the Irish way, grand.

On a beastly hot day in the teeming city, it was grand to watch the NYPD traffic division conduct its orchestra of motor vehicles; suren' 'twas a party, indeed.  

AT THE TICK TOCK

The Tick Tock Diner is located on the ground floor of the New Yorker Hotel, a venerable favorite once hosting the very elite. It fell into  decline in the '70's and closed to be re-opened by the Moonies, then later resold. Now it is once again a magnet but this time serving as a handy destination for those disembarking at Penn Station diagonally across the street. It's likely I went there for pancakes when my mother and I joined Aunt Stella in 1944 on her lunch hour from the Holiday Book Shop. Every time I watch an episode of the hilarious British show, Black Books, I think of cheerful Mrs. Holiday, elegant in a Noo Yawk way. Perhaps she, too, tried the pancakes with us. There is a mural inside boasting of comfort food with a '50's gas station scene. I like the eager tourist atmosphere. I have learned, and forgotten, eight different languages' version of "Have a nice day." My 34th Street jaunt includes Joey's Discount around the corner where temptation is mighty as I wear symbolic jewelry. For instance, at this very moment on my wrist:

a peace friendship band
a Hunger Site bracelet made from recycled magazines
a Starbuck's jobs for impoverished communities in the U.S. wristlet
shell art given to me spontaneously at the Port Authority Greyhound hub
Henry beads

Joey's is the ideal place to pick up a little somethin' symbolic. Remember my post about the library and the elderly woman I called PHwF? Pink Hat with Flower. Well, "By Jove!" as my dad used to say, I found a ring comprised of a woman in a pink hat with flower for a dollar.  I felt guilty thinking about the person in a sweatshop in Asia turning out hundreds of dollar rings but guilt can always be rationalized away. I decided it was triply symbolic:
1.  honoring PHwF
2.  remembering those who work in sweatshops
3.  grieving over the loss of jobs by corporations moving overseas, such a the Payday candy bar factory featured in a Michael Moore documentary. 

The Tick Tock serves breakfast all day; theirs is a 24 hour day. I heard there are some 20 varieties of omelettes. Grits is a side dish! If you enjoy listening to eight different languages at once, I recommend it. Can you guess? Yes. I am drafting The Little Apple's Guide to the Big Apple's Boroughs and Orchards. 

THE POKE-ALONG TOURIST'S GUIDE

Artwork by Linda Baldock

Perth, Western Australia

I started reading the freebie newspapers because they were, well...free. How could I pass up such a deal? They did contain local interest articles about which I like to stay current such as teachers' evaluations, Bloomberg's bans, Stop & Frisk, and fracking. I'm not averse to the latest on RPatz, pitcher/author Dickey, and Zarkania, either. However, the main attraction is the horoscopes. I cross reference by reading the amNewYork first and then the Metro. I enjoy being the Poke-Along Tourist seeing the city with fresh eyes Monday through Friday. Every tourist should have his or her day outlined by the horoscopes. 

"A good story is a wonderful gift.

Shared dreams keep you close."

This one was a keeper so I cut it out to put in my Lokta plant-Fair Trade notebook where I am pressing small flowers from Cozy Corner on 2nd Avenue. Usually, the advice runs to, "Don't scatter your forces," as if I were a bundle of energy. I'm skeptical at times since I was born south of the Equator where all the stars are upside down, but isn't this typical of Gemini, making even the constellations festive? At any rate I thought "a good story" was a sign to return to regular blobbing.  

Among my P-ATourist activities is giving one minute "travel calls" on the Little Phone (NY's special cell offer for the low in income). Ordinarily, I pick a busy street to make a Sounds of the City call, one of several categories, though I particularly like sending sounds of the tunes on the Delacorte clock in Central Park. Recently, I was on the ground floor of a ritzy office building housing the Open Space Institute and chanced upon a trio (violin, guitar, flute). Pachelbel! This past week's categories:

Overheard-- "I mean, California was beautiful, wonderful, but the people! They are so laid back!!!!"

Favorite tees-- "IT'S ALL GEEK TO ME" "LOVE PEACE HELLO KITTY

Breaking News--you know that one. 

My daughter surprised me with a message telling me I'll feel right at home on my annual autumnal visit. Her Sounds of the City were the clanging of cranes and construction outside the University of North Carolina Hospitals. She said Chapel Hill is my Other Borough, New York City being divided into five boroughs. That's right! I will be Amtrakking NYP(Penn)-->DNC(no, not the Democratic Party. DNC is the code for Durham, North Carolina). It's just a little further than the Wednesdays trek to Little Italy in the Bronx. Plenty of time to contemplate the zodiac, My Daily Guidance Counselor and learning from Linda how to draw the ideal self-portrait.

58th on a Sunny Day

  Ten minutes early to the library. 






If this had been a Tuesday or 
Thursday, I would have been late but Monday hours at the 58th Street branch dovetail with the 67th. That's the nature of library cut-backs, although recent news alerts have the funds restored. There is a nicely designed waiting area outside with planters and benches so I sat in the only available space next to two middle-aged women who had a very elderly woman in a wheelchair with them. I will call the latter Pink Hat with Flower (PHwF). They were turned away from me intent on their conversation. One of the women was holding PHwF's hand which I thought an affectionate gesture till I realized it was to keep PHwF from waving at people. Eventually, PHwF managed to snatch her hand loose to wave at me. Her daughter, I'm presuming, was embarrassed and apologized. Why? I asked what PHwF's name was which reluctantly was answered by, "Christine." "That's my name! She is not only friendly but psychic." Daughter told Mother, "That's her name, too." PHwF marveled. I felt a challenge coming on because Daughter had been decidedly standoffish, private about her problems, not enjoying her task of caregiving. I took a guess and plunged into a couple of stories. One was about the days when I visited what we called a Rest Home. I spoke every afternoon to someone who could only shout, "No!" I'd ask her various questions. "Do you like the color blue?" "No!" "Do you like dresses?" "No!" The nurse said this patient looked forward to my visits. How could she tell? One day I whispered, "Do you like ice cream?" A pause. "Yes!" It was the only yes I received but we all considered it a breakthrough. Another time, I told my captive audience, I was telling a story to a friend who was serving lunch to her mother who had Alzheimer's. I noticed that she seemed focused on my teeth. Suddenly she burst out with, "That's the funniest thing I've ever heard!" She had not spoken in two years. 

The library opened; I rose to leave.  I would have liked to stay as Daughter was looking more and more relieved but I had errands to run. I said, "Goodbye, Christine!" She waved heartily. She was allowed to wave. Sometimes it pays to be early.