(Originally published 12/30/19)
“There is nothing like Christmas in New York.” I hear a lot people say that at this time
of year. Not having been too many other places at Christmas, I cannot say
definitively whether that statement is true. I would venture to say that
there is nothing quite like Christmas in other places as well.
Until
relatively recently, I had largely left “Christmas in New York” behind. For me, the
holiday heyday in the big city was four and five decades ago. Shopping at
Macy’s, the movie and Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall, and visiting
Rockefeller Center were annual traditions. Fast forward to the not-too-distant
past and I had literally gone twenty or so years without laying eyes on the
Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. It is, after all, only a forty-five-minute
train ride and fifteen-minute walk away.
To tell
you the truth the tree looks pretty much the same as it did all those years
ago. There are, however, more people than ever before getting a bird’s-eye view
of it. So many more, in fact, that snippets of crossover streets were closed
this year by the powers-that-be. Now, this is good news for pedestrians and not
so good news for drivers. Without such closures, I might very well have been
trampled to death this past week.
Honestly,
I would rather experience a sunset in New York Harbor than call on Rockefeller
Center or set foot in Macy's at Christmastime.
Let it flow...why not? It floats back to you...
I have recently been advocating that tourists visit the canyons of Wall Street during the month of December. Although not nearly as big as the one at Rockefeller Center, the tree there is considerable in size and sports both lights and ornaments. And, as you can see, there are not swarms of people in the vicinity. This has got to count for something!
On now to the masses of humanity at Bryant Park, a primer of much worse to come.
The Greek city-states of the seventh century were known to protect themselves with eight-men deep phalanxes. With all eyes on the Saks Fifth Avenue Christmas wall of lights was a phalanx of fifty-men- and-women deep. Penetrating this massive wall of Homo sapiens with their raised smartphones was not for the faint of heart.
Fortunately, this section of 50th Street was closed to vehicular traffic. Otherwise, there would be no picture here.
I gave some consideration to having my palm read, but—one—the reader was on a bathroom break. And two, I remember being taught not to put a plastic bag over my head. Lastly, I am not a little person.
Glad to see the big banks, like Chase, in the holiday spirit and turning their logos into Christmas decorations.
Extraordinary news uncovered on my Christmas visits downtown this week: The 168th station—for Number 1 train riders—has reopened after being closed for elevator replacement for the entire year. The Metropolitan Transit Authority miracle here is that it occurred a couple of weeks earlier than expected.
Proving once again that one never knows what is around the bend.
Respect others. Now that is a novel concept to heed in 2020.
Okay, it is Northern Manhattan and the George Washington Bridge. Once upon a time, I spent Christmas Eve with a grandmother in the Bronx and Christmas Day with a grandmother in Bangor, Pennsylvania. Over the river—in this case the Hudson—and eventually through the woods of Northwestern New Jersey while listening to AM/FM WPAT's "Spirit of Christmas" on the car radio. May I just say that there is nothing like Christmas in Bangor.
Wherever we traverse, discoveries await. I didn't have to traverse afar this week to uncover the Hudson River Stonehenge.
Granted, it is not quite as impressive as the prehistoric Stonehenge in England, but impressive enough for me.
Finally, there: The Little Red Lighthouse—Jeffrey's Hook Lighthouse—under the GWB. From a passing car, I spied it for decades. I can cross this off my bucket list. And fewer people around it than the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree!
(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)
