Thursday, June 21, 2007

Life on the Red Line

I cannot possibly explain exactly how I feel about this city.

Within this one place, there are so many different places, each with their own touch of charm. By simply hopping on the 2 train, I can jump from one world to another one stop at a time.

I get on in a quiet world of You've Got Mail Kathleen Kelly butteflies with Grey's Papaya hotdogs, Riverside Park, Central Park, Zabars, the Beacon Theatre, and all of the other wonderful things that go along with being a West Sider.

In a matter of three minutes, I can be in the center of all that is flashy and bright. Broadway shows, marquees galore, supersized Toys R Us, Bryant Park, overpriced souvenier shops, and all MTV.

One stop down is the Miracle on 34th Street, where to me, it will always feel like Christmas, or Valentines day, or any other holiday where a great movie has caputre the essence of all that is, what I like to call, the Macy's district. I can look up and see the tallest and by far most famous building in the city (which doesn't look all that tall when you're standing underneath it), and I feel as though I've been flashback to An Affair to Remember or some equally as wonderful classic New York movie.

Next comes Union Square, protests included. Here's where I can find people roaming about with dogs on leashes, trees, Barnes and Noble, and chain retail shops one on top of the other.

Flash forward to the Financial District. The center of New York history pre-1930s, and the economy of pretty much the entire world. With great views of all that is American and patriotic, including a gaping hole in the street reminding us tragedy and the fight for triumph over it, the Financial District is pretty much my favorite place to spend a quiet morning. Here you have Trinity church, the Stock Exchange, Battery Park, I could go on... With the hustle and bustle of people all around, there's nothing like sitting on the steps in front of ole G-Dub with a bagel and a bottle of water watching the people run around and manage the crazy numbers that somehow affect my day-to-day existance in this country.

Pop on over the Brooklyn, my favorite of the Buroughs. Get off at Clark and try to imagine what it must have been like in 1875 when across the river the tallest skyscraper was the spire of Trinity, and up above was rising the most amazing structure you'd ever seen and trying to figure out if after all the work, money, and political turmoil it would still be standing five years from now (not to mention in 2007).

I could stay on and make my way through Brooklyn, but typically this is where my life on the Red Line ends. I might switch to yellow, or walk back across the bridge, but isn't it amazing all of the things I have seen by simply walking outside my front door, going about half a block, and hopping on a single train?

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