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Day 11: NYC
Everybody ended up a bit sunburned after the boat. Me, just on my forearms (sun screen liberally applied elsewhere). Marion got polka dots down her arms from her shirt and very red below her chin and Daniel and Eve got roasted in various exposed places. Daniel on his knees and the right side of his face and Eve on her shoulders and nose. It’s rainy this morning though. Well, drizzling. Not rainy. But the New Yorkers had their umbrellas out. Wimps. It was hardly anything. Rather pleasant after all the hot weather.
We had breakfast at Milk and Honey, a nice Jewish place. Many of the folk in yarmulkes. Good bagels. It would have been the perfect place to ask around for a Hebrew speaker to interpret my great grandfather’s headstone but I didn’t have the nerve (a theme).
We were headed to Brooklyn but first stop, the Public Library that we missed yesterday. I know it’s a popular spot but I didn’t expect quite the crowd that was there. And very few, if any, were there to actually use the library. Just gawkers like us. And the one crazy man screaming from the top of the stairs. I’m not sure about what. It seemed best not to give him too much attention. Marion and Eve had coffee so they weren’t allowed in and had to wait outside while Daniel and I had a look.
It’s a beautiful building. Lots of columns and arches and broad stairways. Solid. Unfortunately the main reading room on the third floor was being renovated so we couldn’t go in. There was a picture out front and it looked quite impressive. Ah well. Maybe next time. I kept thinking there was another picturesque room in there to see so we kept looking for a bit. But no luck.
We also wanted to see Grand Central Station so we headed over there. Plus we were catching the subway to Brooklyn anyway. Of course it was packed too. Although I suspect nothing like rush hour (it was 10:30 by this time). The sign on the door said “constantly improving” or something like that. Which I told Daniel meant “always under construction”.
We looked around a bit and snapped a few pictures. Apple had taken over one of the stairway balconies and we managed to stumble upon it and were beset upon by Apple “geniuses”. We got out of there quickly. (The Apple zealots strike me as zombies. Brains… brains…)
We figured out where the subways go and which one to take. Then had to take on the fare machines. What we really wanted was an all-day pass. But you can’t get those. You can get a 7 day pass. Which seemed like overkill. Although if we could have all used it, it might have been cheaper. I ended up getting one Metro card with $20 on it which we all used to enter with. Now of course, that was with the fee for getting a new card and the fee for a credit card transaction. So it wasn’t quite $20. How come the fat cats never complain about *those* taxes. Annoying. Oh yeah, because they don’t ride the subway.
Anyway, the subway wasn’t too bad. We got off in Brooklyn, not too far from the Brooklyn Museum where we had decided to go because of the rain. But when we got there, it wasn’t raining. So I suggested maybe we could do the Botanical Garden instead since we’d all seen all the museums we wanted at this point and it was just down the street. There was general consensus and off we went. We were further certain of our decision when we saw the school buses lined up at the museum. We’ve also seen all the children we need to see at this point.
The Garden is quite lovely and a haven in the midst of the city. It would be nice if it were just a park so that everyone could go (its $12 to get in) but that’s a sure way of ruining it I’m certain. We wandered around taking pictures and smelling flowers. There’s quite a large rose garden (although Portland’s is bigger) with a large variety and lots of things were blooming. Also nice paths and trees and plants. It was started in the 20’s or so, so things have had time to grow up.
There’s a large greenhouse (conservatory) with things that can’t grow outside. Tropical plants, desert plants and such. And the greenhouse itself is large and interesting. It reminded me (although not on nearly the scale) of the ones at Kew Gardens in London. And of course the line from one of Daniel’s children’s books “Great Green Gorillas in Gorgeous Glass Greenhouses” which I was pleased to find out he remembered too.
After we were done, Daniel found a Brooklyn pizza place he wanted to try so we headed off that way, along the edge of Prospect Park. It turned out to be a bit of a hike and I, at least, was quite ready to sit down by the time we got there. It was run by an Italian guy with a strong accent. It took some effort to figure out the process and order our pizza slices and salads and drinks. But we finally managed it. Although it took quite a while for the salads to come and we were worried they wouldn’t. But the guy finally brought them over and was very nice. And ultimately, brought us some donuts (for free!) for desert. Which was great considering it was National Donut Day (and maybe that’s why, but I prefer to think it was because of our long wait for the salads). On the way out, Marion asked him if she could take his picture, and while he was somewhat surprised, he agreed.
Daniel and I considered going to the Brooklyn Bridge for pictures and to walk across it, but there’s no convenient subway stop nearby. He was looking pretty bedraggled and I was feeling a little ‘walked out’ too so we decided against it. It was a good choice too since he almost fell asleep on the subway back to midtown. I still want to walk across it. Maybe next trip (another theme).
We found what looked like a nice little Italian place for dinner. But when we got there it was full and they didn’t have a reservation until 7:45. So now what? We tried walking down the street but that was getting us nowhere so with some reluctance we went to Buffalo Wild Wings. As it turned out, it had plenty of seating and some nice salads. And a very gay waiter, yet he didn’t ask what show we were seeing when I told him we needed the check to make a curtain. So much for that stereotype. And we were seeing Hamilton, which was a big deal and I wanted to show off. But no such luck.
There was a long line at the theater. We couldn’t figure out if it was to get tickets or if you had them. Turns out it’s if you have them. They don’t let people in too early because the lobby is tiny. Although why we couldn’t go in and sit down in the actual theater wasn’t clear. We took selfies with the Hamilton sign (as lots of people were doing) as we approached the marquee.
We get through the door (breathing a sigh of relief that our after-market and very expensive tickets were actually valid) and the small lobby space is jammed. They send us upstairs which was expected, since our seats are in the mezzanine. But then upstairs again which was not expected. At this point the seat Nazis checked our tickets again (I guess people have been sneaking in? Who knows) but they can’t seem to figure out where we’re sitting. Very snotty people but after a while they figure it out. It turns out we’re pretty far up considering how much we paid for the tickets. And Big Head Fred is sitting right in front of Marion. I switched with her since after all she’s the one that got the tickets.
The crowd is raucous. There’s a lot of excitement in the air, which is cool. This is the big hit of the season after all. But it’s like a Beatles concert. That same roar when the lights went down as when Ed Sullivan introduced the Beatles on TV. And (annoyingly) a long roar when each actor came out so you couldn’t hear what they were singing. The show starts with a series of characters coming onstage and providing some exposition of Hamilton’s early life. So it’s kind of critical to the plot to hear it. But no, we missed the first 10 seconds or so of each while people screamed. Luckily I had a pretty good idea of his history so I didn’t miss too much. But this is live theater people. Show a little respect.
As the show went on it felt like the whole crowd had seen the show multiple times. People were singing along with the songs. The lady in front of us was pumping her hand in the air like a rock concert. She always knew when the song was going to go from slow to fast and was ready to ramp up with it. It made it a bit hard to hear sometimes and given the rapid fire rap that are some of the songs, it was tough to follow in places.
But an appreciative crowd is always good. And the show was good enough it didn’t spoil the experience (although it dampened it some). The problem with paying the kind of money we did for the tickets is, the show has to be pretty much outstanding in all respects to warrant it. For what we spent we could have fed a starving Guatemalan child for a couple of years at 75 cents a day or whatever it is now. But the question you have to ask is, can the kid sing and dance? I doubt it. So sorry Pablo, maybe next time. We’re going to see Hamilton.
Now of course the show is sold out. The place holds 1300+ people. How many bathrooms are there? One. One? For a 3 level theater of 1300? Are you kidding me? And where are they? Ground floor. Where are we? Two flights up. How many people want to use them at intermission? Just about all of them. So it’s down two flights of stairs, wade through the densely packed mob of people in the “lobby” trying to buy a drink to get in the line for the bathroom that stretches around the hallways and try to get in and back to your seat in 15 minutes. I made it back with about 2 minutes to spare. And that’s for the Men’s room. There is no way on God’s green earth that all the women that needed to go were able to get back in time. I realize space is at a premium in New York. But come on!
Still, it’s easy to see why it got 16 Tony nominations. It really is quite good. And now we don’t have to see it in the crappy Keller Auditorium in Portland 3 years from now when it comes through on the Broadway road tour. And thanks to the glory that is the Internet, you can listen to the soundtrack on YouTube, which I have done multiple times (and Something Rotten too). And now that I’ve heard more of the words, I have an even greater appreciation for the songs.
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