New York

I am being terribly dramatic by saying this, but it really is the way I feel about the city. I think many people (especially those from "Middle America") feel for much of their lives as though they have been missing something from the beginning. I think a big part of that something is New York. You can talk about the diversity, the history, the busy-ness (not a word!), the amazing food, the overwhelming stimuli... you can talk and hear about it all you want, but I don't think you begin to understand it until you have experienced it at least a little bit.

I had been to NYC once before on a basketball band trip to Philadelphia in 2004. On an off day and a whim, our driver agreed to take us to the city. My five hours there were only enough to whet my appetite and get me through the NBC Studios Tour.

My purpose in going this time was to become familiar enough with the city to escort groups who are travelling there in the future. Although this is only on the books once more this year (in a week and a half), I am told that it will become frequent beginning next year. Based on most of my experience this time around, that will be just fine.

I arrived Wednesday evening to relatively balmy temperatures. Thursday morning, my boss and I cabbed it to Liberty State Park and met the arriving students for boat trips to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.









At about the time we left Liberty Island for the buses in New Jersey, the rain began to fall and the wind began to b-low (This is for Gunner, who still thinks blogs should be called "b-logs"). We got the students back to the hotel and into their rooms, and by 5:45 P.M. had them headed into the city for Phantom of the Opera. Because I will see it next week, I skipped it this time around and braved the weather to run errands in midtown Manhattan.



As the students sauntered out of the show, the wind became particularly fierce (worse than most Chicago winds I remember) and the rain started feeling more like ice.



I boarded the bus soaked from head to toe and shaking like a wet dog (which I guess, in a way, I was), thanks to the dead $7 umbrella and the falling temperature. We headed back to Jersey, expecting a few hours of acceptable weather on Friday in spite of the thickening of the raindrops.

We were disappointed. As we boarded the buses Friday morning there were already a couple of inches of snow and sleet on the ground. Of course, sitting at the hotel all day was not an option. So into the city we traipsed at all of 20 miles per hour. We dropped the kids off for their day long tour of the city, and we took our own walk/cab tour of Manhattan.




I was knocked out by St. Patrick's Cathedral.


Looking east toward Times Square from the eighth floor of the Marriott Marquis.


Looking west, just for Russ, from the eighth floor of the Marriott Marquis.


Who ya' gonna call?

We met the kids at O'Casey's (E 41st near the library) for a pre-St. Patty's day Irish dinner, sans whiskey.



It was here that I realized that one of our lead bus drivers was Garrison Keillor.




Aye?

Unfortunately the roads had gotten bad enough that said driver felt that it was only safe that we skip the Empire State Building and head to the hotel immediately. He was right.







Saturday morning, the kids checked out of the hotel and we headed to the Empire State Building. It was a perfect day to go up, except that you had to stay inside because of the ice (I am told that it's a hell of a fall).


Looking downtown. Six years ago, the WTC would have dominated this picture.


Looking uptown. Rockefeller Center is in front of you, with Central Park just beyond and to the left.

The kids were performing in the St. Patrick's Day Parade, so we dropped them off and headed uptown to the end of the parade. Traffic was terrible for a Saturday because 5th Avenue was closed. That gave us time to enjoy the West Side and Central Park covered in snow.





After arriving at the end of the parade, we played a long game of Hurry Up and Wait. It was cold and windy as balls.



After the parade, we took the kids to South Street Seaport where they ate dinner. My boss and I headed to Times Square to get out of the cold, where we ran into Alan and Ashley. It's amazing how that keeps happening (I also heard from the Maleys, but we couldn't get together).

The next morning, began an entirely different saga which I will detail later. But it involves the horrible customer "service" of Continental Airlines, a phone call in the middle of the night from a (gasp!) sober person, an arrival in Nashville that was thirty hours later than planned, and the very generous hospitality of Oob.