Movie – Blank City

Just by chance I heard about this documentary film and by even more remote chance, it was part of Birmingham’s FlatPack film festival.

The reason for my interest in Blank City is because it details Lower East Side, New York in the late 1970s, into the 1980s where seemingly everyone made films. Not being a film geek, I recognised very few film makers but it was great to see people like Deborah Harry being interviewed alongside all these film clips made by people literally on the street or in squats.

The neighbourhood then, particularly Alphabet City way out to the East Side – a place I only ventured to a few years ago after many years of visiting the city – was an absolute no-go area. As is documented, residents feared for their life every day walking back and forth but on the plus side they didn’t have any belongings or money so thieves knew there was nothing to be stolen. It was more of a narcotics thing and as well as the drugs scene, Aids came to be around this time so there is talk of lost lives.

Really, it’s amazing to see people survive as so little was known in the very early eighties.

I loved this film from the popular culture angle but film makers and geeks – and indeed photographers will enjoy the artistic element.

7½/10

Smile factor 8½/10

Travel Thursday:Your most emotional travel experience (positive or negative!)

For me, every trip is emotional, travel is what I strive for. All my other loves are in my daily life but travel I have to wait for so there are always tears of joy at some point.

If I had to pick one time, it’s the first time I travelled to New York on my own. I’d been visiting a friend in Florida and tagged a four-day weekend in NYC on to it. I was petrified at first (first I was afraid, I was petrified etc etc). I checked into my hotel (won’t name) and felt I was in a brothel. I have no idea why I decided to stay mid-town, I really don’t like the hustle and bustle of 42nd St and Times Square and ordinarilly avoid at all costs. I think I was thinking it would be safer.

Also I couldn’t get into the what was going to become my regular haunt, Chelsea Star Hotel just above West Village and over looking the temple of New York, Maddison Square Gardens so after checking in and wondering if my luggage was going to be in my room when I returned, I stepped out into the sultry July day and walked the 10 blocks to Chelsea Star, who thankfully booked me in for the next day. Better than that, they put my mind at ease about staying at my hotel for one night as they knew them well.

On to the emotional bit, as if being in New York – and alone – wasnt enough, on my walk back up town, there was a spring back in my step.

I remember waiting with a throng of people  to cross the road, as I did, I looked up to my left towards Hudson River and there was a gorgeous sunset – like there’s any other kind.

I remembered there and then how lucky I was to live this life and be able to travel to all the places I have. And burst into tears of joy.

I always remember that moment if ever I’m on  a trip that isnt quite going to plan. Some people live their whole life and don’t get to travel to just one of the places I have, just one time. I’ve been dozens of times and love every single second.

Travel Thursday: Your all-time favourite place visited

Based on the most visited place for me over twenty years, it has to be New York.

The NYC you don't see; one of my favourite views, across Central Park to my neighbourhood

 Two years ago, I didn’t consider it a place I visited but my second home. I know (knew) New York better than I do London, or anywhere else I have lived. It was the first place I wanted to visit as soon as I could, never having had any interest in going to some beach on the Med and sitting still. Still don’t.

I have seen the world since then – well the parts of the world that I wanted to see, and then some. But it all started with this craziest, rudest, busiest of cities where I’ve always felt most at home.

But that’s the past, next week on Travel Thursday, most definitely, I’ll move forward!

Weekly travel post ideas for Ian Braisby blog

Two worlds become one

NYC merging with UK

Really, it’s a small thing but on Saturday I put on my pale blue, long fleecy robe for the first time in 2 years, (it’s as good as new) and made my weekend pancakes. If I was in New York, I would have watched at least one premiership match before I’d got out of bed and another one whilst getting ready for the weekend spent upstate.

Later I use my egg ring to make perfect size eggs for the muffin, in my super duper mini frying pan – all my pans have been returned to me  from NYC bent out of shape but that just makes me smile; my life has been bent out of shape for a couple of years.

I have coffee in my ’weekend’ Shabby Chic mug that reminds me of having eggnog in my coffee pretty much all the way between Thanksgiving and Valentine’s day. I bought this pretty china thing to celebrate after viewing the apartment that I then moved into and then going round the corner to discover that the Shabby Chic store had come to New York.

Today I feel like my New York has merged into what I have now and it feels kind of nice.

On Monday I once again make perfect, fluffy scrambled eggs with my very expensive whisk and mini pan. I also delighted in the first time I wore my brown, brogue shoe boots teamed with my pink and caramel knee high argyle socks and cropped jeans. Oh I have missed you! I bought them from my new shoe shop discovery Aerosoles that was across the street from my daily NYC coffee shop. The novelty of having my really good black boots is wearing off but just being able to wear different jewellery every day to go with what I’m wearing is a joy each morning

The day I bought the Aerosoles

Again it’s the small things but each time I use something I haven’t seen for a couple of years it feels brand new. Obviously I have had to buy and/or acquire lots of new things but a lot has been trashed, taken to charity or is ready for selling.

I’m going to be like this for a few weeks yet and then again when my new bedroom and lounge storage furniture arrives. Then I will see everything back in place.

New York Comes Home

It’s a long, sad story but just to say after two years, I have just had my worldly belongings delivered back to me from New York. 

Having spent the best part of two decades travelling to the USA and to New York in particular, I’ve known for a year or two now that my transatlantic life is over, at least for a good few years. Again, I don’t want to dwell on that, more the odd feeling I have now that I have all my CDs, books, clothes, photos, family keepsakes and toiletries back.

 Yes, I now have enough shampoo and conditioner for the rest of my life – seriously I do – and certainly enough toiletries for next 2-3 years. If you know me, you’ll know I don’t buy any old rubbish. Feel free to knock on my door if you run out of shampoo but your hands are not going on any of my ‘can only purchase in North America’ Bath & Body Works luxuries.

Some of my belongings I haven’t seen for well over two years and I’ve been asked what I was looking forward to most. The answer is everything! However, what I unpacked first were my CDs (Whitesnake then CherryGhost came to hand first, yes I have eclectic taste), my really good black boots I’ve had for over a decade, ALL MY CLOTHES but particularly all my boots and my toiletries. Some people are hooked on shoes, I like things that smell nice, feel nice and make me feel good first thing in the morning. And they’re a lot cheaper, take up less space and I can replace when I run out.

I’m relieved when I see all the photos and family memories plus my Dior jewellery collection and my ‘real’ jewels as I forgot to add them to the insurance itinerary. The Audrey book came out a little battered and I haven’t attempted to unpack my twenty year old Villeroy & Bosch china as I heard it clinking – never a good sound at £20 a plate but it’s had a good run and the broken plates are more tolerable than a broken heart.

Quite frankly, I’ve had enough of international heartbreak and the feeling I have now that everything is around me again is indescribable; it goes way beyond elated, a marathon past ecstatic and a world beyond relief.

Imagine having a lifetime’s worth of collections and memories you’ve carefully chosen or had given to you with love and then you are without everything. Whatsmore, I’m not able to go back to pack and transport it myself so I’ve had to rely on strangers handling all my worldly goods. Five nail biting, hair twisting, lip biting months later (4 months organising, 1 month in transit) and 18 very large, some humungous, boxes arrive. Within five minutes, two helpful gentlemen have unloaded everything into my welcoming home.

It turns out I didn’t need to move the furniture out of the way; it’s a lot easier with just boxes that stack up rather than when moving a whole house of odd shaped furniture.

So back to the odd feeling; I thought I would feel a little sadder seeing my home being ‘New Yorked’ but it just feels super good. I bought the boxes from my NYC storage company so my lounge is piled high with cartons that state ’Manhattan Mini Storage’ in huge blue letters but I don’t mind at all.

My clothes are piled up on the dining table and in the bedroom awaiting new furniture and I don’t mind at all.

I’m actually enjoying waking up and seeing that I’m surrounded by it all.

If I’d packed myself, certain things like chai tea bags (still in date!) and laundry liquid wouldn’t have been worth transporting but I have done about a dozen washes so it came in handy. My house has smelt wonderfully like a Chinese laundry for a few days as after being in storage, almost everything needed washing, even the clothes with tags still on.

It’s odd having things like horrid American loo roll; honestly, no matter what how many dollars I spent, the quality was never as good as the UK – and I didn’t get the pretty patterned one I get from M&S.

I have all my New York coffee table books on my coffee table and it doesn’t make me feel at all gloomy, maybe a little nostalgic even.

I’ve come a long, long way in two years.

Anyway, I have lots of Canadian trips to look forward to this year; a whole new country to fall in love with. (although I kind of already have).

 

My home is New York’d.

Zabars: An Upper West Side, New York institution. A good bag too.

Don’t Dream it’s over; Final Part

I kept it quiet, in fact I still haven’t told any of my friends I’ve been, but on Monday 23^rd August, I attended an appointment at the American Embassy to reapply for my tourist visa. 

My best friend knew, as she made the appointment for me from her landline (£1.20 per minute, spent approximately £40 on 3 phone calls in addition to cost of visa application, visa photo, police check + photo, transport to London, day off etc). I started to application process back in May.

A couple of days before, I met someone who went through the exact same thing, although her partner came over to the UK and they had a civil partnership. Later that evening I told a newer friend but those are the only three that knew/know.

It’s just over a year since the last application, I have a job and my own place, 2 of their criteria fulfilled. The other was to be married and have children but I feel that’s drastic change in lifestyle just to have 2-3 visits to the US each year.

The day is shorter and faster than last year’s visit:

• 10.10 Arrive
• 10.30 Appointment (last one of the day)
• 10.20 Seated after the 4 external checks before entering the building
• 11.30 Called to reception to check forms
• Called back twice to complete yet another form
• 1.30pm Coffee is cleared away and there are 6 people left in the hall after lunch time. 4 interviewers are still working.
• 2.45 2 of us left, I’m called to interview.
• 2.52 Denied again. Interviewer doesn’t see sense in applying again; maybe wait 2-3 years for the next time.

“The suspicions have been aroused” by my extended stay, despite me NEVER overstaying, going there numerous times over 20 years and never breaking any law.

All I have to do know is figure out how I can get all my belongings collected and packed from two different NYC locations and returned to me. I can’t wait to have everything back.

The end.

Music Monday – C is for Chic

If I have musical heroes, they are Chic.

Their records are just the half of it, they, Nile Rodgers or Bernard Edwards or both, have produced a stack load of my favourite artists including Duran Duran and Madonna but also ‘supergroup’ The Power Station (2 members of Duran Duran, Tony Thompson – Chic’s drummer and the brilliant Robert Palmer). Sad to note that Tony Thompson, Robert Palmer and Bernard Edwards (just 43) all passed away but left not only a huge musical legacy but a big influence on me.

They’ve also produced (revived) Diana Ross and Sister Sledge and so many more.
What I have learnt is that Bob Clearmountain, known to me as Bryan Adams’ main producer but also works with Springsteen, Bon Jovi and hundreds of others, engineered their first album. So in fact they link up a vast majority of my favourite artists.

Let’s go for a top 5 of these genius artists:
Dance Dance Dance (Yowsah, Yowsah, Yowsah)
Le Freak – known for being a gigantic influence on a huge variety of bassists, the bass line in this is the most amazing. Apparently this track was the biggest seller for Warner Bros until Madonna’s Vogue came along
My Forbidden Lover
He’s the Greatest Dancer (Sister Sledge but heck, it’s their track. “One night at a disco on the outskirts of Frisco, I was cruising with my favourite gang”. That line made me go to the only place on the west coast of America I ever wanted to go, San Francisco.
Good Times - in my top 10 of all time and possibly the most sampled track of all time although possibly Rodgers & Edwards are the most sampled producers of all time?

My childhood, indeed my life is deeply enriched for hearing Chic.
Nile Rodgers

Book – The Believers by Zoe Heller

After enjoying Notes on a Scandal, I undertook to read more of Miss Heller. I know for some time she was based in New York and wrote the ‘Letter from New York’ in the Sunday Times and that’s where this book from is based.

Indeed it was reading that column each week that got me into reading the Sunday Times regularly and making a decision on what time of writing I was going to do. I had no idea up until then, just that I wanted to end up (as in retire) writing but then I knew I wanted to write opinion and memoir pieces in the main.

If books are written from one’s personal experiences, I worry for Ms Heller!

The part comical story is centred on the mother, an absolute dragon who admits to not being all together maternal, despite giving birth to two daughters and adopting a young boy.

A well to do family, British mother married 40 years to an American father and living in Greenwich Village, bang up to date in post September 11th New York.

It’s quite a fascinating read about the mother daughter relationships and how those differ in that she is a doting mum to her adopted wayward, junkie, good for nothing son. It’s all wrapped in the parents’ radical ideals and how both daughters rebel from their principles. The title is about their changing lives and therefore opinions; what do they believe in now?

You’ll have the excuse the ‘F’ word – coming from the mother – but the writer goes to some lengths to explore the whole family and a supporting cast of hanger-ons.

So first Ms Zeller makes me realise what sort of writer I will become; can she make a novelist out of me yet?

Maybe.
7½/10 Inspiration factor 9½/10

Carrie Bradshaw is no role model

It concerns me that women, especially young ladies think of Sex and the City’s leading lady as someone to aspire to.

The media may not have helped either but perhaps it’s not their job to educate, just report on findings and they have reported a great deal about women who think that being Carrie is the way to go.

I think people forget Sex and the City is meant to be a comedy; after all I first stumbled across the iconic programme after the series had ended on one of the comedy repeat channels. Some of my younger girlfriends (and all the gays) had reported on it but I refused to watch any programme that was about women bemoaning the lack of men in their lives. Then I realised it was a comedy.

If taken even slightly seriously, of the four, Miss Bradshaw is surely the worst role model. The other three, like the rest of us have their hang-ups but are not shopaholics, broke or spend their life chasing a wealthy, older, unavailable and probably unsuitable man. (Mr Big)

Miranda with the only steady corporate job is much more of a fitting role model although it’s only in comedy land that such a character seems to be on long lunches daily and yet complains at how long her working hours are. I do like her and yes partly because I can identify with her the most but also because she’s her own person. Whilst she likes men she would quite like just the one in the long-term, if possible. We all have our irritating habits and Miranda is not faultless (stop shouting!) but at least it doesn’t matter to her how much her date earns.

Samantha is the character with the best lines and therefore the best SATC girl. Period.

I’m not suggesting that every woman should be completely promiscuous and sexually non- committal, although I for one won’t judge you for ‘putting it out there’. Samantha is successful, is good at her job and loves it, lives life to the full and is independent in the real sense – you know all those good, inspiring things. Independence doesn’t just mean in the financial sense, Samantha is emotionally independent and can make her own decisions. When have you ever heard her ask for advice?

And before you even think it, yes I know we all need emotional support and advice from time to time but we do know our own mind a little more by our 40s.

We forgive Samantha her indulgences, long lunches and late night conquests because we believe she has earned it. And again, because she has the best lines.

And then there’s the plausible, traditional Charlotte who believes a man will not settle down with a successful woman and whats more, there’s nothing wrong with a man paying for everything. We forgive her too because firstly, she truly believes in her choices and because she doesn’t want to be a lady what lunches. Charlotte is happy to run a home and support her man in whatever he needs emotionally or practically. Mother Nature willing, Charlotte will pop out some sprogettes too.

Carrie on the other hand works one day a week and spends her days ‘wondering’ whilst managing to afford a $400 shoe habit as well as the long lunches, late nights etc. Reminder; this is Comedy Land! I know how much cocktails cost in New York and I tell you, no average salaried person can meet the expense of that life – and get a taxi home every night.

The motivation that prompted this piece is seeing the episode when Carrie shrieks when it rains. Why spoil a perfectly nice story featuring my favourite museum, the Guggenheim with screaming just because it starts raining? It’s like she has never seen the wet stuff falling from the sky before.

Nonetheless, those of you who watch the series, either as bona fide hardcore fans or for the odd moments of escapism like me, probably have a little bit of each of the characters in us. I for one recognise the girlieness in Carrie and when she jumps for joy at the tiniest thing but have more in common with the others. I even like Charlotte’s fondness for pink and hair bands.

By the time they got round to making the films, the programme had gone from being a witty look at a fantasy Manhattan life (come on, let’s not pretend here) to either an unfunny comedy or a drama, depending on your view point.

But yes, I am a fan of the series and love chuckling at repeats on late night TV whenever I get the chance. The great thing about watching it on TV is that it’s only in 20 minutes bursts, give or take and I can mute the cringe-worthy bits, or go and make a drink, or carry on with whatever I was doing. I find they don’t like me doing that in the cinema so the film is a no go.

Do please tell me what happens though.

New York v Birmingham

I have been back from New York for almost a year and having resigned myself to the fact that I’m going to be in England for at least another year, or two or three, I’m semi-settled in my favourite English city, Birmingham.
As with many places I go, I have compared the neighbourhoods of Birmingham with those in New York. This is what I have come up with:

Chinatown                                                                Chinatown
Chinatown is almost identical everywhere you go in the world, although in Birmingham, blink and you’ll miss it and in New York it’s impossible to miss it if you are downtown. You cannot get passed it either. Not in a hurry in any case.

Colmore Business District                            Wall Street
Business is business but Wall Street is noticeably faster paced and the crowd starts earlier. I do enjoy being around at 8am when the people on ‘London time’ have already being working for a few hours and the rest are just starting to arrive, coffee and pastry in hand. Although Wall Street is steeped in history in that America was pretty much built from this point, Colmore has class, heritage and charm. And less sky scrapers.

St Paul’s                                                                       Morningside
Morningside Park runs just to the East of Columbia, has a big church close by, is eerily quiet with a few bars, restaurants and one or two coffee shops. St Paul’s is the closest match I can make with a pleasingly lovely, undiscovered part of New York

Jewellery Quarter                                              Diamond District
Just stating the obvious although residentially, JQT is more like East Village.

Balti Triangle                                                        Hells Kitchen
Hells Kitchen is in the region around 8th and 9th Avenues between 34th and 57th St and I’ve fallen in love with this area in recent years. It’s another obvious comparison as this area has ‘Restaurant Row’ in it. Hells Kitchen is now known as Clinton but locals in HK aren’t really up for that and are keeping the name that reminds them of the violence and riots that rocked this working class neighbourhood in the distant and recent pasts. The difference is that it has every type of restaurant you can think off. Especially popular with in the know theatre-goers from the bordering district.

Birmingham Cathedral (St Phillips)                St Patrick’s Cathedral
Birmingham’s predominant holy building is set on parkland, actually gravestones and enduringly filled with Goths, or whatever they call themselves these days and St Patrick’s is on 5th Avenue, in one the busiest noisiest, tourist filled areas of NYC outside Times Square.

Brindley Place                                                   Tribeca
Like Brindley Place, TriBeCa (Triangle below Canal St) has also been restyled in recent years from a ghost town to lofts, offices, hotels, restaurants, coffee shops and higher prices and it’s near the water, Hudson River. Sounds familiar?
Tribeca is in fact one of the oldest parts of New York with cobbled streets still intact, as my many visits to the cobblers of New York will testify.

Edgbaston                                                           Upper East Side
Old money                                                              Old Money

Soho                                                                     Harlem
Soho Birmingham style is unfortunately minus the sultry jazz and blues clubs and of course the Harlem Apollo but also minus the price rising tag ‘up and coming area’. It does have some of the West Indian culture though so close enough but doesn’t make me want to live there, whereas West Harlem is certainly do-able.

Theatreland                                                   Times Square
Although Theatreland also doubles with Chelsea for a true gay comparison.

International Convention Centre         Jacob Javitz Centre
Birmingham’s premier conference centre overlooking the canal.
New York’s premier conference centre overlooks Hudson River towards the Jersey skyline.
OK, New York wins that one.

Moseley                                                             Brooklyn
This is not New York, New York but that’s the thing about Moseley, you can see it from the big city and its only 5 minutes away but it’s a whole different vibe. It’s kind of friendlier and it’s where people go and live if they want more time to be creative and more room to spread out in, particularly as their families grow. However, it still has a sprinkling of students and singles along with a definite creative energy.

I can almost compare Moseley with Upper West with its artistic residency but it can fit in one side street of this, my favourite NYC neighbourhood situated to the west of the top half of Central Park.

Lacking

Although Birmingham has many parks on the outskirts, it is sadly lacking in the uniqueness that is Central Park, proving that man can indeed make land beautiful, if we try just that little bit harder. Not only has New York succeeded in building some precious green land 50 blocks long, it is well used and collectively loved. This vast parkland is for sure one my favourite parts of New York whether it’s for a quick stroll on a white Christmas morning, to see live entertainment on a humid mid-summers day or just using it as scenic west to east walkway as an excuse for retail therapy at the Bath & Body Works on the east side of the city.
Also, I’m unable to do direct comparisons with my two favourite neighbourhoods Columbia and the Upper West Side where I lived. If I could, no doubt I wouldn’t miss New York as much.

And thankfully there’s only one Broad Street.

Finally we cannot compare the NEC to the sacred ground that is Madison Square Gardens. ‘You’re not a New Yorker until you’ve been to the Garden’.

Journal April 17th 2010 Love – Home – Work – Social – Passion

Love – Home – Work – Social – Passion

I find it difficult to write my journal these days, not because life isn’t eventful, on the contrary, but life is serious and you’re used to me writing about the light side, the exciting side, the new experiences; apart from losing my right to travel to the USA, being estranged from all my belongings currently in New York and breaking up with the BF, apart from that, that is.

Tom’s diner
I’ve been back from New York exactly a year now and since then, there have been no first time visits to the opera, Carnegie Hall, BB Kings or indeed discovering the house band at Cafe Wha! or the live music at Café Vivaldi. There has been no witnessing the Empire State building turn blue for President Obama’s election victory, no going to the recording of Martha Stewart’s Christmas special or passing Kevin Bacon in the street going to my favourite Upper West food store, Zabars. There have been no snowy walks across central park to report, no new dates, restaurants or friends or discovering that the café across the street from my coffee shop is Tom’s Diner, as featured in Seinfeld. Nope, I never watched it either.

Since taking on my first job in 6 years, a first flat in nearly 2 years and singledom all in the same month, it’s been tough.

I love having my own place again instead of sharing even though it feels extravagant and empty. It’s more like a holiday apartment but with more of my stuff in it. Well the stuff that isn’t in New York, which is definitely in the majority. I have no idea where I’m going to put eight large boxes of belongings collected over a lifetime plus a triple wardrobe of winter clothes and all the stuff I had in the apartment share. With the split from the BF, there is no reason for it to be in New York anymore as it could be 1, 2, 3 or more years till I make my way back there. The question remains, how will I get it back?

Cold winter in New York
Every day I remember something else I’m looking forward to seeing again; my luxurious silver cashmere throw and cushion, my years’ supply of gorgeous toiletries from Bath & Body Works and of course my CDs. I’m not as bothered about the clothes at the moment as the city virtually holds for ransom all my cold winter in New York attire.

I love my new dream job that encompasses pretty much everything I have learnt over the last 25 years of working but the project I’m managing is hard. Who’d have thought I’d have trouble finding unemployed/disadvantaged people in Kidderminster, a town which includes one of the most deprived neighbourhoods in the country? I envisaged the hardest part would have been the actual training, keeping 15 people who are not used to corporate discipline entertained and interested in skills that will help them both find and keep a job in the hospitality, travel and leisure industries.

Switch off, switch on
In a strange way it feels like I have pressed the re-boot button in breaking up with the BF. I miss him terribly and feel like I’m running around town without ear rings – not essential but I don’t feel like myself without them. It’s one thing less to worry about, although try telling that to the part of my brain that pops him into my thoughts approximately every 57 seconds. It saves me time in calling and emailing him not to mention an absolute fortune in travel, socialising and treats and a significantly smaller amount for a Skype subscription.

At the risk of sounding like a SATC sap, even though he broke my heart, I miss him. This week I was in London, staying in a fancy hotel in an area we spent time in when he came over last summer, Soho and Marble Arch. I walked around the block once as I really fancied noodles but settled for a burger joint as I was starving. I sat down in Guerrilla Burgers, ordered, then looked down James Street and there were loads of restaurants! Not noodles but 2 Italian choices. Still my burger was interesting; I ordered goats cheese and aubergine burger and wondered why the youthful waitress didn’t ask me how I wanted the meat cooked, burnt. It turns out the cheese was the burger – no meat. I chose sweet potato fries to accompany and although the burger was on the cold side and I like my hot food to be steaming hot, the service was good.

Good enough for me to go back having walked half way round the block towards Selfridges and to my hotel and one, ask for the receipt I forgot and two, a slice of baked cheesecake to go. Ridiculously expensive buying one portion from a restaurant for more than the price of 2 slices, or indeed a whole cheesecake from Marks & Spencer.

The BF and I did the exact same thing, buying 2 slices ‘to go’ on our last night of the Christmas break in Montreal. Turns out, that was our last night together, ever.

NB I miss the him that I spent 14 months with, not the him that broke my heart.

Out with the girls
I’ve added two areas to the Love-Home-Work triangle, Social and Passion. I’ll think of better names later but my social life seems to have all but disappeared. My good friends are mostly far away or the local ones are too busy for socialising so after being repeatedly asked why I don’t set up Meet Up group, out of desperation, I have. After less than a week Out with the Girls already has 23 members and the first event, a brunch of course, is full. I hope it’s as good as the MeetUps in New York that literally saved my social life.

Passion is things we care about, for me that is in the main music, writing, reading, delicious food and football. And my work but only until 5pm after which I’m throwing myself into the aforementioned list. As soon as work gets less busy that is.

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Project 365 – Day 30

Real American pancakes at last, just like I've always had. Now where's that American cupcake book...

Book – Digging to America, Anne Tyler

It was the last day of the October Montreal trip when this book grabbed my attention but I didn’t purchase as I already had too much to carry. The BF was already on his way back to New York and I had a few hours before I went to catch my plane back to London so wondered into a coffee shop/book shop, one of my favourite combinations. I was upset that we didn’t come here together although we had passed it one day when it was raining bucket loads and we were running for cover back in the shopping centre.

So when we were in Montreal for Christmas, I took him there for coffee and a browse and the book was still in the reduced section, now just $5 so of course I took that as it was meant to be.

Something about the title made me pick it up which shows how important names are. The story is about two families in the US who meet under the most unusual circumstances, both collecting adopted Korean babies at the airport. One family is of Iranian descent, although the young father is American born, the other an all-American older couple waiting for a longed-for daughter.

The book reveals how these two families, although both from a different age bracket and culture, become friends over the years, despite some frustrations at each others customs and lifestyles. I found the culture difference a little far fetched seeing that both couples were bought up in America but that didn’t halt my enjoyment of a delightfully well written book. What made it interesting were the extended families, particularly the widowed Iranian grandmother who the couples were very keen to get together with the newly widowed American grandfather.

The particularly endearing chapter is the one written through the eyes of one of the adopted girls’ voice. The whole book is altogether warming, enlightening and telling if not of the over-told cultural difference, definitely of the issues of adoption, in particular of foreign babies and of being a foreigner in America. Especially as it’s written by a talented American.

Whatever happens in the future, the book will always remind me of those times the BF and spent in Montreal, awaiting my fate, hopefully not as a foreigner, in America. One day.
7½/10 Inspiration factor 8/10
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Soundtrack to New York

These are my New York songs which, for their own reason always remind me of my second home.

I know you’ll get side tracked so don’t forget to go all the way to the end!

The Wombats – Moving to New York
Added as soon as I heard it mainly due to the poignant lyric, ‘It’s like Christmas came early to me’. That’s how I feel every time I arrive, even when it’s not Christmas.

Journey – Don’t Stop Believing.
It’s one of my motivational songs that got me to New York, well Jersey first because I thought it would be better to be outside the goldfish bowl looking in. It was too; you don’t get the view of New York unless you are outside it and I got that glorious view everytime I stepped out my door from 8 minutes across the Hudson River. This tune carried me over the Hudson as it actually come on the radio on a day I was getting the train to the big city. Unfortunately the train arrived on time, as they tend to in New York so I didn’t hear it through but I laughed all the way over.
I dare you to not listen to this one all the way through.

Madonna – I love New York
The least cheesy of New York admiration songs from the fantastic Confessions album

Oddysey – Native New Yorker
This takes me back to the seedy days of New York in the late 1970′s – a full 10 years before I got there and realised it was everything I had dreamed off since I was in single digits and a whole lot more. In recent years, when I felt it safe enough to make it to Harlem, as it happens the same Christmas that James Brown unfortunately passed away, the line ‘up in Harlem, down on Broadway’ filled me with happiness as that’s literally my journey.

Pet Shop Boys – New York City Boy
Here comes the grin on my face – each time this pops into my head when crossing ‘where 7th Avenue meets Broadway’

Irene Cara – Flashdance (What a Feeling)
The other inspirational song that reminds me of New York, which is an inspiration in itself. It’s because I do feel I have it all, especially when I’m there.

Don’t Rain On My Parade – Bobby Darin
Can’t find a good version but this song just makes me feel invincible. When I landed at Newark last, I was sure that a live big band was going to come out to greet me and play it.

Madonna – Jump
Listened to this whilst I was preparing and packing for my big New York adventure. Take a listen…

Bruce Springsteen – Born To Run – Because he’s a Jersey Boy and because the tune lifts me across the Atlantic

Tom Waits – Jersey Girl (Bon Jovi version) Well I was, for a while

John Cougar Mellencamp – Small Town
Although it could be any of a number of Mellencamp tunes because I have a bet with myself anytime I travel out of New York that I will hear a Mellencamp song on the radio on any given day. Or Chicago, or Journey. And I love the Scarecrow album – it’s pure Americana.
Plus these days, since my adult 7 year stint back in my home town, it reminds me of Bedford too,

Maxine Nightingale – Right Back Where We Started From
The first Christmas I spent in New York on my own, the TV kept showing a movie trailer featuring this track. I loved it anyway but now it always reminds me of that Christmas Day waking up at the Waldorf pretending I was a Park Avenue Princess, then moving to the much more sobre surroundings of Chelsea Star Hotel – my regular for some years – for the rest of the week.
The film by the way was the Family Stone which I did watch whilst I was there

Home – Michael Buble
The latest track added to the playlist. Reminds me of when I came back to pack up England and was desperate to go back home……to New York. It’s going to be unbelievably emotional listening to this when I finally make it back there.

Don Henley – New York Minute
Of course

Billy Joel – New York State of Mind
Of course too

I’m sure I’ll think of more but that’s it for now. Look forward to your comments and if you can find any better Youtube links!
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I keep remembering more tunes from earlier days!
Tom Waits – Downtown Train

I don’t even mind the Rod Stewart version which you may find more palatable

And how can I forget the first song I ever heard in NYC, Crowded House, Don’t Dream It’s Over.
It was early Monday morning after we had arrived at the weekend, I turned on the radio and this came on. Still provokes one of my happiest memories ever.

Book – New York by Edward Rutherfurd

Well this is indeed an epic masterpiece as denoted on the jacket cover.

My thirst for knowledge on the history of New York, as well as America is well and truly quenched. For now.
An ingenious idea to begin with, a novel that tells the 400 year history of New York by using several fictional families interspersed with significant real life characters resulting in some uncanny entwining stories. I like the recalling of familiar surnames used to name the streets as they get built; Reade, Duane, Washington and Hudson.

The story begins with the Dutch settlers as the Native Americans have already been pushed out of lower Manhattan. The early chapters talk about the numerous attempts of the English to own New York and the battles duly fought. The English influence is much more evident to me now knowing places like Trinity Church were built thanks to the early wealthy merchants but others soon followed them into America; Germans, Jewish, Irish and the Italians at the close of the 19th century.

The story begins with the words of a well treated slave of a wealthy Dutch family before moving onto the narrative of his kindly master. These two family’s stories are told over several generations and it’s warming to see their names return over again, even when the author skips a couple of generations.

One of the surprise elements is how common travel was from England to New York, even if it took weeks by ship, the wealthy, diplomats and politicians afforded the luxury. I imagine the army didn’t travel in such style but of course they recruited soldiers from within America itself.

I loose count after six generations but even when America became independent and civilised, I am still enthralled with the ever tangled stories. It’s remarkable to read about old money and new money which describes lives before and after Wall Street bankers become the financial dictators of the world.

It’s fantastic to witness Central Park forming and later becoming home to the many who lost everything in the crash of 1929 and the opening of the marvel that is Brooklyn Bridge as well as the grid of streets rising up from the tip of Manhattan as America forged ahead as the dominant force it has now become. Then onto the famous Flat Iron building and especially the completion of Chrysler and Empire State Buildings. The Chrysler was completed on the very day of the Wall Street crash and the Empire was then, as in more recent times, known as Empty State Building, both having been built just in time for the Depression.
At the same time, the world’s richest family are building the wonderful Rockefeller centre, giving much needed to work to the hundreds unemployed. An eyesore opposite St Patrick’s cathedral, even when workers decide to put up the now world famous Christmas tree.

Thankfully the author does not dwell on the negatives. Instead the term, ‘New Yorkers don’t take no for an answer’ is repeated as necessary. Not in the Depression, not when Britain invade and not on September 11th.

Even the inevitable deaths of each generation are quickly glossed over moving on to more positive new stories.

Every new wave of immigrants faces the same racism that is in some smaller way, is still evident in America today but that doesn’t stop them coming to build a better life from wherever they came and from whatever war they are escaping from. The book states that the reason there are so many Irish and Italians in the Police and Fire departments is to quench their longing to belong and be respected. And to find their way out of poverty and into the establishment. Some things don’t change.

Each riveting introduction of new generation is eventually entwined with one of the families the reader is familiar with already and so the story starts again.

As old money started going up town on the East Side courtesy of Fifth Avenue, across the park, the West side didn’t have it’s first grand house until the early 1900’s. It didn’t take me quite as long to go from East to West but it was a good 15 years of visiting NYC before I ventured to the other side of the park. Now of course, it’s unlikely I will ever go back East.

Interestingly, after the Wall Street crash, our most familiar family, the Masters, had to downgrade from their mid town Fifth Avenue house to an apartment on Park Avenue, now worth several million no doubt. Park was just plain old Fourth then and not as glamorous as it has become.

Other families disappear into the ever growing streets of Manhattan. The arrival of the Hispanic community in the 1970’s is unfortunately not as detailed as previous immigrants but they gave new life to the book I have a much better understanding of the geography of their community above 96th Street. This explains why the block on 93rd Street where I lived is completely Spanish speaking and wonderfully vibrant.

A truly majestic story superbly telling the history of New York.
I am completely in love with this book, as I have been in love with this great city for all my adulthood.

I look forward to the BBC drama/Spielberg trilogy/HBO series – whichever wakes up to the opportunity.

9/10 Inspiration factor 9/10

I can’t go to New York, so New York is coming to me – July 27th 2009

July 27^th 2009

Days since 127 Days to go 17

It’s been a long time coming and on some days, I did not dare imagine it but the day is near; the boyfriend has finally booked his flight to come to England. I think in the back of his mind he thought I’d get the new Visa and be on the first flight back. Even if the result was positive, US immigrations would prefer to see me pace my stays in the US for the time being, a few years at least.

The first time he bought up the visit without me cajoling him was about a week after the failed visa interview. It gave me a big jump in confidence that this was going to happen and we can really get a chance to keep this thing going.

A few days later, I call him whilst at the coffee shop but he doesn’t pick up so I try again on the walk home. He had text me after the missed call but I had left my private mobile at home so didn’t get the message. When I called him he was searching flights! I tell him $700 is a lot even though August is high season and there must be some bargains to be found still in the current economic climate.

When I get home, I checked my mobile and it had one of the best messages in a long time;

“Call me back so I can book flight.”

A couple of days later I woke up to this email:

Subject: See you…

7.50 August 12^th

That sure had me wide awake from the normal early morning sleepy haze that I normally check my first emails in. The last time I felt this elated from a received message was the very first time we were having date in his country neighbourhood and not NYC where I lived. I had been teasing him all week about what he had planned for me as I usually organised the dates in the city. Who’d have 3 little words could have such an affect on a girl:

Subject: You and Me