New York, New York

What can I say; I am a sucker for history. This is a large part of the reason that I recently chose to travel to New York City by train instead of car or plane. I had a client in-tow this weekend for a quick tour of the Big Apple and insisted that we take the train up. I am a lover of (well-run) rail transit, but because Amtrak is so damned expensive I don’t get to do it very often. I have come to the conclusion that we in the Northeast corridor get to pay the price for Amtrak’s incompetence in the rest of the country. To me, few things are better than splitting my time between looking out the window and reading as the world speeds by. Apparently I am in the minority as Americans prefer sitting behind the wheel on the Jersey turnpike while traveling south. The only negative I know about train travel is standing up to pee while speeding over some switches; it was a bit messy in there.

We hit NYC in blitzkrieg-like fashion. Our train got in at one in the afternoon and we proceeded to hit Times Square, lunch, Central Park, the Battery, a beer, the financial district, ground zero and be back in our hotel by six. Then it was off to Gallagher’s at 6:30 for dinner (my filet wasn’t as good as I hoped). After that we saw Radio City, Rockefeller Center and had a few drinks before heading back to the hotel. On the way I picked up my traditional Times Square gigantic pretzel and a Coke from the street vendor. I snacked on it while watching the beginning of SNL and then went promptly to sleep. I believe this is the first night I have had over six hours sleep in the last week- it was a good feeling. This morning we woke up, took the C train to Penn Station and hopped on a southbound Amtrak at 10:05.

I still don’t understand why I am drawn to the Northeast, the New York/New Jersey area in particular. My mom has always said that it is my father’s blood in me. He grew up in Chatham, New Jersey and both of his parents were very working-class and very “Joisey”. Most people in the U.S. are moving West to Phoenix, Albuquerque, or (God forbid) Colorado Springs. While those might be great places to wither before one dies, they’re not for me. I like the congestion, I like the old industrial feel, I even like the way one can get lost in the crowd of the East. It isn’t perfect out here, but it is the best definition of America I have found.