The Big Apple

Well, we did it. And we did it one Saturday afternoon during the Christmas season, no less. We took all three people to The Big Apple - New York City. The Empire City. Gotham. The City that never sleeps. The City. America's Mecca. The Hong Kong of the Hudson. As an aside, did you know NYC has 98 nicknames? Check it out: http://www.barrypopik.com/index.php/new_york_city/entry/98_nicknames/.

It was an impulse. We had talked about it, but never really decided for sure when to go, what to do, important details like that. It's just how we roll. I had conservatively (I thought) planned three - four places I wanted to visit around Rockefeller Center, starting with the Christmas Tree of course. Completing my itinerary would prove more challenging than I thought. The city was quite a sight. Never had we all experienced such an assault on all our senses. The sights and sounds of NYC are never-ending, and as varied as you could ever imagine. Smells emanated from spots seen and unseen. People pushing, shoving, endlessly moving from here to there, with no foreseeable end in sight to the chaos. I would swear people were oozing from the cracks in the sidewalks. How can one city bear all this commotion?

We parked at the Lincoln Center, and walked some five or six (or was it twenty-six??) blocks to Rockefeller Center. We really stressed to the people that this time they had no choice but to hold our hands. Really, though, it was us clenching their wrists so they couldn't wrangle their little hands out of safety! But at one point fighting the masses at Rockefeller Center, I wanted photos and let go long enough to get them at arm's length just to take their photo. There was simply no room to maneuver, let alone casually pose for a photo. My people fit right in with the masses of NYC: pushing, shoving with elbows out at 90 degrees with no apologies, with the occasional name-calling!

So here's a decent photo of the people, by the skating rink in front of the tree at Rockefeller Center, before their stomachs started growling and they all morphed into trolls:



We clawed our way along Fifth Avenue, shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, barking orders at each other: "I WANT TO EAT HERE!!!! I-AM-STARVING-MOM-I-AM-NOT-GOING-TO-MIND-YOU-ANYMORE-UNTIL-I-EAT-PIZZA-AT-THIS-PLACE!!!!!!" "I-AMMMMM-TY-URRED-OF-WALL-KING!!!!HE'S-PUSHINNNGGGGG-ME!!!!!" "Heather, I think the people are hungry, and maybe we should just stop here and get whatever we can to-" "NoWeAreGoingToFindTheRockCenterCafe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!NOWQuitGripingAnd. MOVE. IT."

The people weren't quite up to the speed and stamina I expected. I don't know why I continue to maintain such ridiculous expectations. I think I had some crazy idea of a glorious first trip to NYC, replete with picturesque moments memorialized in Annie Leibovitz-esque photos from various angles around Rockefeller Center and the famed Christmas Tree. Mothers never stop dreaming, I think.

We find a pizza joint, scarf down several slices, and I drag the people back outside for more fun. By this time, with a little food in their tummies, and the crowds pressing down on them from every direction, they are no longer cold. Despite the frigid 35 degrees and brisk winds, the overbearing crowds keep the cold somewhat at bay. The people automatically assume I am their personal beast of burden, and quickly shuck their coats, scarves, gloves, and top layers at me backhanded as if an afterthought. I guess I am, because I caught them all. I had winterwear stuffed in every pocket, and my purse looked like it would vomit a sweater any minute.

There was a Kodak photographer memorializing your moment at Rockefeller Center. I managed to corral the people for a decent photo, but to actually purchase the photo we had to migrate across what seemed like nine counties to the Kodak store. Naturally, in some crazy scheme surely designed to make me spend more money, the store had to be in a different location than the photo-taking spot. It's probably good reasoning. After all, after navigating the city blocks, crowds, and arctic conditions, there is no way I'm not buying something.

Everyone except me is ready to go home, but by now, I am not going home without this photo of my people in front of THE Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. Some cusswords were exchanged, but I got Dan to watch the people while I waited in line to pick which photo I wanted of us at Rockefeller Center. As you would expect, there were approximately 78 photo products from which to pick featuring my family's photo in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center: mousepads, calendars (12 month, 18 month...), coffee mugs, t-shirts, pens, seasonal greeting cards, non-seasonal greeting cards, and of course, endless options for print sizes and frames. There are hoards gathering in line behind you, cussing in 14 languages, and the pressure has to be akin to what a brain surgeon regularly suffers.

The boys work laboriously to rearrange the store's window display, and, ignoring the employees' dirty looks, Dan threw a very sleepy Katie over his shoulder while admonishing them loudly in a half-hearted attempt to maintain some dignity. I finally acquiesced that our glamorous first trip to NYC was at an end. I pick out a photo....some years later it's printed....

Photo framed and bagged, we set out towards our vehicle. I had insisted we walk from the parking deck, but now, I concede that we've seen enough - let's take a cab.


WELL.

This is where the fun was just beginning!!

I can say the cab chose us, or we chose the cab. But either way, it was a baaaaaaad choice. I am not sure what make or model it was, but it was the size of a tic tac. No joke - I was halfway in Dan's lap, and someone (or someones) was (were) in my lap. Someone else was in that person's lap....and so on. There was a tv screen mounted in the backseat of the front passenger seat - the kind that ran a loop of weather, traffic, and major tourist spots in NYC. Nothing groundbreaking. Katie was situated somehow on top of and between the boys. I was balancing on my left hip, squeezed in between Dan and the boys who were also sitting only on one hip. Katie did not have a clear view of the tiny tv screen broadcasting the traffic congestion at the various locations, but decided it was crucial she have an unobstructed view of the tiny screen situtated in the front passenger's seat. Remarkably, the boys were complacent with their seat in the taxi, and didn't complain about their view of the tv screen, or their inability to see the sights whizzing by the tiny windows.

Quickly Katie's discontent turned into an all-out full-blown trantrum, the likes of which we had never seen from her. She launched herself into a titanic-sized fit, complete with tears, flailing of arms, and emotional garbage spewing forth like, "YOU DON'T LOVE ME YOU THINK I'M STUPID YOU DON'T WANT ME TO BE HAPPY I WILL NOT LOOK OUT THE WINDOW EVEN IF YOU ASK ME TOO THIS IS NOT FUNNY YOU ARE MEAN MEAN MEAN!!!!!!!!!!" By this point all we could do is laugh. And I mean all of us. Normally, we would quickly admonish the others if they were laughing at their sibling, but we were all so dazed by this point Dan and I lost all self-control and laughed uncontrollably. We laughed and laughed and laughed, which only made Katie madder. Katie spat out the most vicious threats her innoncent little mind could come up with, such as how she was never going to smile again! Or, how she would never ever ever sit by us again! And my favorite: that we thought she was stupid and purposefully kept her from seeing the tv so she would be mad!

After a few blocks of this fun, taxi-cab driver Mahammed Mahmood Salaam pulled over and utterered a slew of sounds that led us to think this was our stop!!! Yay!
Once Dan found a door handle and opened his door, we all practically exploded out of the "cab" due to the loss of pressure in the cabin. The people spilled all over the sidewalk while we composed ourselves, gathering winterwear and little people's wrists. No surprise here that Katie resisted. Also no surprise that we were not actually at our stop. Yes, it had the word "Lincoln" on the building...yes, it had some parked cars around it. But no. We still had to trudge another couple of city blocks to our vehicle. Katie's little display was not subsiding, but our humor was. Even the boys were trying to distance themselves from her wailing, and tentatively whispered their pleas for her to shut up!

By the time we actually found the vehicle, Dan had her slumped over his shoulder and the wailing had been reduced to whimpering. Never was anyone more relieved to enjoy the privacy of the closed doors of the vehicle than at that moment, where at least the embarrasement would be limited to the five of us.

All three fell asleep before the skyline was completely out of view. Only then did Dan and I start laughing at her again.