Picasso, Pedaling andPitching
After a spot of washing in the morning, we flexed our sight-seeing muscles and got set for a schedule fuller than a bull’s bum walking up a hill (as mum always used to say).
We bought ourselves an unlimited subway pass at the start of the week and it was the best $30 we’ve spent. We’ve used the subway so much and it’s been so handy. For some reason I can never get through on my first card swipe. Sam’s started calling me “Two Swipe” , coaching me each time as I approach the turnstyle “..just do it smoothly and slowly mum”. I think I’m always just in too much of a hurry! I must say though, the New York subway isn’t as easy to use as the London Tube and all the numbers and letters make it seem more complicated. Some of the subway entries have “Subway” written out the front in big glittery writing, with colourful round letters and numbers that look like keno numbers. It looks like the entry to a casino. Not surprisingly, Sam has totally mastered his way around the underground network and I’m so grateful I have him to follow around! He’s a walking, talking map on legs and I pinch myself sometimes that he’s my son!
Our first stop this morning was MoMA, the Museum Of Contemporary Art. It was such a buzz to see original artworks from Van Gough, Cézanne, Gauguin, Matisse, Picasso, Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein (among others!) Sam saw a Lichtenstein painting in the flesh (so to speak) that he’d actually done a school assignment on! I absolutely loved seeing all the original artworks that were so famous, including Andy Warhol’s iconic Campbell’s Soup wall and his Marilyn portrait! We both loved “Starry Night” the best. The museum was a cross between the Powerhouse Museum and the Art Gallery with all kinds of modern design and architecture as well as photography and paintings. Sam reached his quota of art appreciation a bit earlier in the morning than I did and his stamina began to wane after we entered what he called “the nudie room”! Art is such a subjective thing but even so, neither of us fully appreciated the two parallel pen lines drawn on a piece of graph paper and weren’t too sure they were worthy of a whole dedicated wall. Maybe there was some hidden (well-hidden!) skill and meaning there to be found?
Hopping off the subway just a few streets back from Central Park, we spotted a guy in a bright yellow shirt with a whopping big yellow picket (a bit hard to miss!) spruiking 2 hour bike hire for $10. We figured we’d be hard-pressed to get a better deal than that so we followed him around the corner where he fitted us out with some great bikes with baskets and true to his word, charged us $10 each, waving us off with the promise we’d return in 2 hours. What a bargain! The closer you get to Central Park, the more bike hire spruikers there are, thrusting their deals in your face and trying to coerce you into going with their company. The beauty of hiring the bikes a few streets back was that we avoided being hassled by all these guys. We bought our lunch from one of the many hot dog carts down in Central Park – they’re everywhere! None of them have prices so we’re pretty sure they just change the price according to how much money you give them (or how much they can squeeze from you)! Sam handed over a $20 bill for 2 small hot dogs and 2 cans of drink and he only got $2 change! Something tells me ‘we was taken for a ride!’ The sun was high in the sky and even just sitting on the park bench to eat our hot dogs, our bums were burning! We sure did work up a healthy glow riding up and down the hills of this beautiful park – such an asset to have right in the middle of the busy metropolis. The park was packed with picnickers, people spread out on blankets reading or just taking a break in the shade of one of the many huge shady trees. There were lots of joggers (crazy in the midday heat!), fellow bike riders and people out strolling with dogs and prams. Buskers were out in force with saxophones, guitars and magic routines. It was a great family atmosphere. We just had such a great time riding around, over bridges, through tunnels, around rocks, past fountains and up and down hills (down definitely being my preference!). We stood and watched the row boats gliding over the pea green pond and soaked up all the tranquility as we gazed back at the city skyline through dappled green leaves.
Sam had wanted to visit the Apple Store in New York and check it all out. The façade is pretty impressive with a big glass box atop a white marble sidewalk where you enter in. I waited outside with the bikes but he was totally amazed at just how many people were inside. They must’ve had 100 staff on duty!
With a quick cold shower to cool down and spruce up, we got ourselves ready because we were going to the Yankees! Woohoo! Now while I’ve already touted Sam’s amazing sense of direction, tonight was a slight hiccough in the proceedings. Rather than blame each other, we’ve decided to blame New York City as a whole (even though it’s not a hole –that’s Sam’s joke) for their hard to understand signage. We were heading UPtown but accidentally caught the DOWNtown train! We should’ve been heading to the Bronx but instead we were bound for Brooklyn, not that we knew that until we actually reached Brooklyn and I asked someone if we were on track to Yankee Stadium. Two very helpful guys piped up to point out we were heading in the totally wrong direction. One of them had really cool bright green glasses and a loud shirt that even Rossco would find over the top. He told us all the steps we had to take to rectify our directional blunder and as we stood on the platform, waving off the wrong train, he caught our eye, pointed with a gun finger and gave us a big thumbs up and a wink! He was a classic.
One good thing about being on the wrong train was that we got to experience the wonderful poetry of “Majestic”, a jive-talking bandana-ed dude, wearing a shirt with the modest claim, “I was told I could become anything I wanted, so I became awesome”! He boldly and loudly introduced himself to the whole train carriage, telling us he was a poet and would like to share some of his poetry with us. His poem was called “Tired” and it was actually really good! He delivered it completely from memory and from the heart. I liked the line: “I’m tired of not knowin’ who or what to trust. I’m tired of kickin’ love to the curb for lust..”
While passing the hat around he told us his dream would be to have his urban-style poetry published one day. I told him I thought he was fantastic and looked forward to his first publication!
Now safely settled into our new train and hurtling (in the right direction this time) towards the famous Yankee Stadium, we were extremely surprised when who should walk right into our train carriage but Majestic himself! What are the chances?! He remembered us (I think he was wondering why on earth we’d be going back in the opposite direction) and told us we were about to be treated to some more of his work, a completely different original poem. He really was good.
As we were filing through the subway tunnel with the thousands of other Yankee enthusiasts, we were buoyed along by the rhythmic “Let’s go Yankees, let’s go” as we walked. It wasn’t hard to find the stadium once we left the station. It looms larger than life as soon as you come above ground. We had awesome seats, right in the front row of the first elevated section. The boy sitting next to us sat through the entire game with a baseball mitt on his hand, hoping to catch a stray ball. Now that’s commitment. As expected, the atmosphere at the match was amazing! There were crowd sing-a-longs – “Take Me Out To The Ball Game”, “Hey Ho, Let’s Go” and “YMCA”, to which everyone in the stadium stood and dutifully made the famous letter shapes (including the guys on the pitch!). There were lucky seats, “Fan of the Game” and “pick a hat” games on the big screen and lots of camera crowd surfing. There were multiple birthday announcements (even a proposal!) and player profiles and stats galore. Each player had a song that blared when they were up to bat. Clearly the crowd favourite was Derek Jeter who stepped up to the plate to a raucous roar from his adoring fans each time. His face is splashed all over the sides of buses downtown and he even has his own souvenir beer cup at the ground! He sure is a celebrity in this town! As we wolfed down some more wholesome American tucker – greasy burgers from Johnny Rockets – we got a lump in our throats, (no, not from the greasy burgers), when the “Veteran of the Game” stood, cap over heart, and we sang “God Bless America” en masse, while the Stars and Stripes flashed upon the screen. He’d lost a leg in Afghanistan and all jokes aside, it was really moving.
Despite the 4 hour match duration, only 3 homeruns were scored in the entire game with the final score 2 runs to 1, the Yankees coming out as the victors over the Detroit Tigers. There were some epic catches and some great hits nevertheless and we just totally loved the experience. When the Yankees only needed one more out and the umpire called “STEEERIKE!” as the Tiger batter swung and missed, the crowd absolutely erupted in ecstasy, Frank Sinatra’s crooning voice drowned out somewhat as the mass of fans in the stadium broke into song…”Start spreading the news…” It was awesome! I’d say, even if you’re not a baseball fan, it’s definitely worth heading to a Yankees game, even if it’s just for the atmosphere. We had a ball (excuse the pun)!
As the seething mass of sweaty fans funneled down into the low-roofed, unbearably hot and stuffy subway, my newfound claustrophobia started kicking in again. It was just wall-to-wall people, with no end in sight and we were squished together like sardines. It was SO hot in there! Even our Rexona was struggling not to let us down! After what seemed like an eternity, we finally made it to the platform and prayed for a train to hurry! Clearly we weren’t going to make it on the first train but that was a blessing in disguise because people were packed in Tokyo style, their faces staring back at us, squashed against the windows! The second train was a little less crowded and people were scrambling for seats with the determination of a kid playing musical chairs, relief mixed with disbelief crossing their faces as they grabbed for one of the scarce places on offer where they could plant their bottoms, not believing their luck. The best thing about the train…it was airconditioned!
We came across quite a few Aussies tonight on the subway – probably the most Australians we’ve encountered on our trip so far. The number of downunder natives hasn’t helped the New Yorkers in understanding our accents though and tonight when Sam asked the conductor the whereabouts of the next “A” train, he thought he was saying “I” train. Sam had to make a triangle shape with his arms in order to finally get his message across and even then it was a struggle!
