Rain Falls in the Concrete Jungle

Day 2 Dropping the bling-bling

"Dude, get up so we can go check out the city."

I woke up and realized I was still in New York, and it was now raining outside. Chris was already up and showered, awaiting my slow ass, and I pulled myself up from under the covers. What with getting my school work done and passing it in before deadline, so I could go to the States in the first place, I had only survived on limited sleep in the last few weeks. I stood in the shower, woke myself up in its luke-warm spray, and then dryed off and dressed.

We headed out under a light mist and took a good look at the city in the early daylight. It seemed much bigger now, and there seemed to be so many Starbucks around, tempting me to drop in and buy a coffee. We wandered around the streets, smoked, wandered some more, and kept our hands busy with lighting and replacing.

The rains fell in an even soft pace, and we dropped into various shops to get an idea of what it is to shop in New York. As much as I wanted to peruse, my real purchase was my tattoo, the homage to my Mother...the woman who has the highest regard in my heart, and so deserves to have her name in permanent ink.

By this point, we were not sure if we even going to get the tattoos, and it seemed more doubtful as the hours passed; already, even without that, the trip was worth every penny I had spent. With or without the ink...but I so hoped it would be with. We took a short break from smoking and went to spy some more stores, and kill some more time.

We found sweet deals on assorted items like belts for two dollars, hats for eight dollars, and shirts for five. We picked up a few things, but for the most point watched our billfolds, and made sure we had more than enough to survive the next four days.

When we next saw the light a half hour later, the skies had turned black, and the streets were now puddles forming on old cracked concrete. All about us there was a ceiling of umbrellas, and the city still kept its hustle and bustle, never slowing down, always moving, no matter what the elements dictated.

I briefly wondered aloud to Chris if it could possibly be acid rain, then shrugged my shoulders, and we lit up another cigarette.

The next few hours found us walking along the clustered streets, exploring side avenues and flourescent lit shops; some long and narrow, others short and squat. Want a watch with a leather band? Or how about one with a faux-studded-wrist band? Interested in some bling-bling necklaces? You know the ones with the diamond-encrusted-name-all-gaudy-and-gangsta-like? For you? Only eight dollars. Come on, how can you pass that up? You have to be mad to walk away from a deal like that.

We fueled up on some Chinese buffet, washed down with a Corona, all of it at reasonable prices, and hit the road again. We walked around for another few hours but knew we would only spend more the longer we stayed out, and it was raining harder. I remember snapping a hopefully cool shot of the Empire State building, with some rain on the lense, and falling down all around us.

We made our way through the crowds, walked through Time Square, and down along Broadway. As we did, I was forcibly reminded that before this day, that those were all names from television, movies, songs even...now I was leaving my imprint on them.

How cool is that to know? That just a boy from Newfoundland would one day walk on the streets of New York? That he would do so a man, one who sees his life in great lights, and has everything at his fingertips...at its very core a brass ring held firmly in his grip.

We dropped by the crew's hotel, to see what was up, and if there was any more news on the tattoos. We all chilled, smoked some cigarettes, and then repeated the same process some more.Then they got ready for a family dinner and we left for our room. Along the way, we grabbed a bottle of whiskey at a cheap cost, headed to the hotel, and grabbed some pop for mix.

I then proceeded to pass out for a couple of hours, then woke up and we grabbed some food while the crew slept off dinner. We ate a donair with the familiar surroundings of Halifax being replaced with Manhattan, and the sights and sounds of Times Square. Huge billboards on the sides of huge buildings, tall ads on the fronts of tall floors of glass and concrete.

I ate my food, and tried not to look like a tourist. But God, the city is freaking huge and I was only in a tiny part of it; and that tiny part of it is bigger than any city I have ever been to in Canada.

Eventually, news came too late, and we missed the crew by minutes. Chris and I headed to our room again, cracked the bottle, and poured its contents out in a toast. Cheers to New York, cheers to friends, cheers to a wedding...and cheers to life in general. A few more cheers later, and I was buzzed enough to sleep, and felt the bourbon dull the excitement of the next upcoming day.

The wedding was due up, the reception after that, and maybe, hopefully, a tattoo for Todd, if time and the universe allowed. Cheers to that. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today

I want to be a part of it, New York, New York

These vagabond shoes are longing to stray

Right through the very heart of it, New York, New York"

- Frank Sinatra

Surviving The Big City

Day 1 Rising at dawn

"Halifax International Airport is closed," said the radio announcer.

Me and Chris exchanged glances, and now knew the reason for our hold up on the way into the airport. It was almost 6 in the am, our flight left at 7 am, and we were now slowly moving down a long line of other terminal bound travellers. It turns out a 747 cargo plane "fell-off" the runway, and crashed to the earth below...taking seven lives with in the process.

At the time, we only knew of the crash, and not of the lives taken. All I was doing was looking at the missed opportunity of not seeing New York, and maybe using the credit for a trip to Vancouver instead. I do not know about you, but I was starting to see it as an omen, the irony of having a plane crash delaying our entry into a city that was once decimated by a plane crash.

The real omen came to the forefront, when we reached the front of the long, slowly being misdirected away from the airport line of cars, and suddenly, we were allowed entry to the airport terminal. We looked at each other, and laughed at our luck. So, the trip began with a green light of stalling time, and a memory was created.

I realized that the trip I had waited so long for, a wedding I was looking forward to, of partying in New York, getting a tattoo, all of these things and more...that they were all in their raw beginnings. The upcoming post is on the first day of our adventure, and where it all started. Here you go, and may you enjoy.

Chris and I sat around the airport and waited for the hours to count off. The entire staff of the airport, from Tim Horton's right down to the check-in-clerks, handled their business like any other normal day...except this one was done under dim lights, hordes of people waiting for the runways to open, and praying for power to turn their computers back on.

After four hours of hanging out, we departed to Toronto for a 2 hour tour, and then gave the bride-to-be a quick phone call. Turns out her family is in the same airport, and as she tells Chris this I walked around the waiting room to recognize a face I have only seen in photographs. I pick her sister out, and what turns out to be the entire family, or close to, and introduce myself.

After a few minutes of polite shock, we all boarded the plane to fly to New York. To say I was excited is like saying a New York police officer has a thick city accent...fugghedaboutit.

Strong winds shook the aircraft all about as we dropped in from the clouds above the sprawling mass of skyline that is New York city. We were on the opposite windows, but I could still see the images of concrete and stone, all towering above the each other in an race to be the first to touch the sky.

The plane landed with a hard jolt and a bounce, as everyone exchanged furtive glances, and then a intake of breath as it reduced it speed. Then, suddenly, I swear to God, I blinked, and we were in Spanish Harlem.

All about people sat on their front stoops, as they would back in the movies of lore, and you could actually breathe the history of the land...or maybe that was the steam that shot up from the sewers on street level? It was not until later that I would wander below surface level, and learn that it was from the subways that sped underneath.

We checked in, had a small-freak-out over leaving currency and personal papers in the room, and then decided to hide them under the TV. We hit the road strolling, headed out to see the boys from California, and make our presence known to the world.

The world turned out to be a group of guys that quickly became crew, and we killed some time until the groom got off work. Then we headed to his house to see my friend from years back that I have not seen since last summer: my dog, Eric, the man-of-the-hour, the groom-to-be, and one who is not a big fan of the limelight, but is striving for the image he knows he is creating. A quick hello, a handshake to pay respect, and we were off once again, into the now coming night.

Hours later, we sat down while all around girls danced topless, and left us slowly watching our shrinking bank-rolls. My biggest shock was ordering a Jack and Coke, a Coke, and a bottle of water...then blinking in disbelief as it totals to a $30 bill. Fack.

The motley crew of misfits hit the street running, and hopped into one of the many yellow cabs cruising the core. A little less lighter, not so much drunker, but thoroughly already infatuated with the city of lights and bigger action.

Eventually, the groom wanted to call the night a night, and we all hung at a few more bars before calling it quits for now. A few more remained to observe and interact, while me and Chris walked back to our Hotel. We grabbed a shish-kebob for the road, and lit up another one of our many cigarettes.

I was chain-smoking Marlboro after Marlboro, as they seemed to help ease the shock of where we were, and gave us a reason to pay attention to our hands. That way, we did not have to pretend we could not see buildings disappear into the nether regions of the night, way higher than normal eyes could see. My neck already hurt enough as it was, there were so many times I strained it upwards to see the final floor to an invention that proudly earned its name of scraping the sky.

We arrived back at our hotel, listened as the door closed behind us, pulled the blankets up over our heads, and said our goodnights. Day 1 was over and Day 2 was already in its raw beginnings, a designated time to explore the world outside. To see why they truly call it the Big Apple, and to see if we were truly there...or if it was all a dream. We closed our eyes, and fell asleep to the sounds of the city that is never allowed the same reprieve.

I swear to God, the last sound before my thoughts went dark, was a gun shot in the distance. Or maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, right? Right. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"New York is great though. If you’re here and want a one of a kind souvenir be sure to take home the police sketch of your assailant." -- David Letterman