W26 and West Side Highway - The Dockworkers (Part 1)

It's ten minutes before six in the morning and I head to the Pier 66 Boathouse as I do every Tuesday and Thursday to go rowing with my crew. They say the City never sleeps. In fact, it takes a much deserved nap between 4 and 5:30 in the morning. The streetlights are reflecting off the wet streets intensifying the orange glow of artificially lit asphalt.

I enter the dark boathouse and am startled by one of my teammates. She looks distressed which is a sharp contrast to her usual upbeat demeanor. "We have a problem," she says. We walk to the end of the boathouse and open the roll-up door that leads to the dock and our boats. The darkness of the boathouse quickly fills with a blinding light as the door cranks opens. As my eyes adjust to the brightness, I see our boats sitting on the floating dock in their usual position but the 20 foot bridge leading to it is nowhere to be seen.

My eyes gravitate towards the source of the blinding light. Several flood lamps are pointed in my direction from a floating barge next to the dock. Above this barge was our bridge, a few thousand pounds of steel softly swaying in the breeze suspended 30 feet up from the boom of a crane.


One by one, grizzled men in flannel shirts and bright orange life jackets emerge from the end of the barge. We explain to them our predicament and they are very accommodating, promising us they would have the bridge in place in a half hour. We decide to stand back and settle in for the show.

...to be continued...

E86 and York - My Client's Maid

"The best lobster is in Rhode Island," according to the Maid. When the elderly woman before me craves them, she hops in her car and drives the distance for a fresh catch of Rhode Island lobster perfectly steamed. Then she drives back to the City.

Her eyes widen behind her wire frame glasses as I reveal that I am an avid outdoorsman. "You have to go to Maine!" she blurts out. "I take day trips to Maine every month." As she fills me in on all of the hiking trails and vista points of Acadia National Park, I was fascinated by the vision of this compact bundle of energy (she is barely 5 feet tall) driving several hours away to hike in Maine and then return to New York.

"I can't drive as far as I used to anymore," she said with a slight hint of disappointment. "The most I do these days is the 8 hour drive to Ohio to visit my friends for the weekend." I suddenly realize her trips were never really about the destination. Her fulfillment in life came from the journey itself.

I compliment her on her ability to endure the endless asphalt of the American highway and begin my four avenue trek to the 4/5/6 train.

Broadway and E8 - Hantavirus Man

I was at a bookstore gathering my typical stack of outdoor magazines, Adventure, Backpacker and the like. I sat down just as an older man in his 70's was slowly getting up from the table next to me. He happened to glance over and notice my stack of wilderness magazines.

"Do you camp?" the man said abruptly.
I acknowledged that I did.
"Got a pen?"

I reached into my bag, pulled out my pen and handed it to him. He picked up an insert a previous occupant left on my table. (Apparently, I can get 79% off of Cosmopolitan magazine if I reply by 11/01/07). "Look this up when you get home," the man directs. He slowly and methodically writes and dictates 'wilderness camping: camper in CA or WA catches.' He pauses a moment as if to add to the suspense. Then, without saying a word, he writes the word "hantavirus" in big letters.

Having done a good amount of wilderness activities in the West, I told him I was familiar with the hantavirus. The Man, in the same serious and stern tone he had maintained throughout our conversation, decided to fill in all of the blanks in my knowledge of hantavirus.

"It was discovered in the US in 1993." He further lectured how all of the coastal states with port cities have outbreaks of hantavirus from infected rats stowed away from overseas. "California, Washington, New York, Massachusetts...but Texas and the Gulf states are really bad." I was fascinated not only by the information he was teaching me but that this Man just happened to know so much about the virus.

He ended the conversation as abruptly as he started it. We both said goodbye and wished the other would not contract the illness. He slowly walked away. I look at the card he left with his hantavirus information scribbled across an image of Jessica Biel.

E86 and York - Maid for Success

"I'm leaving in a few years and going back to the Phillipines," the maid responded when I suggested she convince my clients to hire additional help to maintain what will soon be a 4000 square foot apartment.

"I don't like living in the city." she continued. She moved to NYC a few decades ago as a single mom with five children. As a maid and nanny, she managed to send all five of her children to college who are now successful in their own rite. The money left over was spent investing toward her longtime dream of returning to and living comfortably in the Phillipines.

She bought a house, then another. "I have 5 houses now that I rent out in Manila," she said proudly. "I also own a grocery store which my brothers are running," she added. "But I don't like living in the city so when I go back, I'm going to live on my coconut farm and help with the harvest." That was how she grew up and, judging by her excitement, was obviously the happiest time of her life.

Funny how many of us work so hard with the goal of reliving our childhood. In any case, I may be harvesting coconuts in a few years.

Uptown 1 Train - Walt Whitman. To You

STRANGER! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me,
why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?

(from the MTA "Poetry in Motion" ad campaign in NYC Subways)

W124 and Morningside - Man with the Shiba

My girlfriend and I were walking through the projects to get to the A-train this morning. We were talking about work when her eyes opened wide and she squealed "Shiba Inu!" as she always does whenever she saw one coming towards us. Years ago we decided, if we would ever get a dog, it would be a Shiba Inu. I personally prefer a Siberian Husky but it would be cruel to keep such a large and energetic animal confined to our small apartment in Manhattan. Besides, Shibas are so damn cute.

The strawberry blonde dog was playfully curious but regal, swaying from one end of the walk to the other. We were fascinated by the Shiba as he approached. I looked up and made eye contact with his owner and flashed a nod of approval just as they passed by.

"You like the Shibas?" I hear in the background. We turn around to see the owner had stopped to peer at us through his purple tinted sunglasses. "I got him in Japan." The dog turned around and stood proudly before us.

"I used to work in government services," the Man continued. "I had a friend in Japan whos Shiba was about to have a litter." The dog, realizing he's already heard this story, took interest in a nearby fencepost. The Man explained how he had recently put down his last dog. When his friend found out, he offered one of his unborn puppies as long as the Man would fly to Japan and pick it up. The Man and his wife were amused with the idea but never took it seriously. Later that week, he was walking around 57th Street in Midtown when, just like us, he was mesmerized by this breed of dog. Curious, he asked the owner what it was. "Shiba Inu," the owner replied. The Man went home that day to call his friend in Japan. A few weeks later, he and his wife were on the opposite side of the world playing with their new dog.

The Shiba suddenly looked up as he realized his owner's iPhone was incessantly ringing. The Man seemed disappointed his story was cut short. We bade quick farewells as the Man answered the call. The Shiba resumed his playful sway from side to side as they continued on their morning walk.

W18 and 5th - The Jet Set

The AV Technician I'm working with mentioned he once had a client who traveled a lot with her dog. She loved her dog and she really hated having it put in the kennel below deck so she made an obvious choice...
...she bought her dog a jet.