November 30, 2003 Archives

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.

It's inside my wedding ring - 11/26/83. Helaine and I were married, just outside Philadelphia. In the beginning, I used the ring for reference to remember the exact date. Now, I know. It has been 20 years!

The past few months have been sort of rough, especially with Ivy passing away. Helaine thought it would be better if we were away on Thanksgiving and our anniversary. I agreed.

I had asked for November 26th off way back in December of last year. It was the last day of the very important November ratings book. To their credit, my bosses allowed me to take the day off. Twenty years is a milestone.

Helaine thought it would be fun to go to New York City, get a hotel, see some shows, do a little shopping, maybe catch the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade and come home.

We had never used Priceline, but some folks at work had had success with it. I looked for a 4-star hotel in the Times Square area and bid. My first bid was rejected, but there was a suggestion that 'maybe' I'd get it if I upped the amount. I did, but in retrospect, I don't think my Priceline deal was that hot.

I called the hotel to make sure the room would have two king size beds (we were taking Stefanie). No problem, but it would be a rollaway bed at $50 per night! And, of course, at this time my Priceline bid was locked in and non-refundable.

Helaine set out to get show tickets. Stefanie and I have gone into Manhattan on numerous occasions, standing in line at TKTS in Duffy Square and buying half price theater tickets. This would be different.

Helaine found pretty good seats for Six Dance Lessons in Six Weeks, starring Polly Bergen and Mark Hamil and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Ashley Judd, Jason Patric and Ned Beatty.

Six Weeks was in previews but had been well received pre-Broadway. Cat had gotten very good reviews, especially for Ned Beatty. We ended up seeing neither play!

Six Weeks was lambasted by every reviewer I could find. This was the kind of awful play that critics take particular pride in crushing. It wasn't long before we got a call from Telecharge saying the Thanksgiving performance had been canceled. Actually, the show closed.

Helaine set back to Telecharge and found Wonderful Town, a revival of a 1950's show about 1930's New York. I had been hearing radio commercials for this show and it hadn't appealed to me. Still, there wasn't much choice on Thanksgiving night, and I love the theater.

We set out for Manhattan on the morning of November 26. I had been up the night before writing a story for work and taking two tests for my courses at Mississippi State. Steffie got behind the wheel of the Explorer. Helaine got into the back and prayed for a safe journey.

Stefanie got a little highway time behind the wheel and taking us to Norwalk. We swapped seats and I took us the rest of the way into the city.

Traffic was unusually light, especially considering it was the day before Thanksgiving. I got in the wrong lane at a construction site in the Bronx and ended up having to double back though some side streets. Still, we made it to the Cross Bronx Expressway and West Side Highway without incident and breezed crosstown on 44th Street directly to the hotel.

The Millennium Broadway is an OK hotel in a great location. It is less than a block east of Times Square.

We knew parking wasn't included and now we found out it was $45 per day! We were reminded again that a rollaway bed was $50. We headed upstairs to our room, 1716.

In most hotels a 17th floor room would provide you with a commanding view. Not here. The 17th floor is only barely above the roof lines of the smaller buildings in the area and provides no view of the street or anything farther than a few blocks away.

Our room was as small as any hotel room I've ever been in. The king size bed took up most of the space. There was a small desk, color TV, microscopic closet with a moderate sized safe, and a few smaller chairs. One entire wall was windows.

The bathroom was normal sized with incredible water pressure. I have never seen a bathroom sink that could puncture your hand with its water pressure before this one. Towels were moderate in size. The tub/shower had glass doors and was a decent size.

Helaine discovered the drain in the tub was stuck closed. I'm not sure how the housekeeper didn't catch this. I tried to unstick it and it snapped off in my hand. I would later tell the front desk of this problem and it was repaired properly.

This being New York, we headed down to Canal Street. I've written about Canal Street before, so let it suffice to say, this is the place to go to get knock offs of all types.

There are a few very interesting points about Canal Street. First, how can the trademark/copyright holders not enforce their rights? Sales of Rolex, Movado, Luis Vuitton and a zillion other brands go on right in the open.

There is some ineffectual enforcement I believe, because from time-to-time, without warning, Nextel direct connect chirps will sound and black cloths will be quickly drawn over the display tables. In the small booths, metal rolldown doors will close. Essentially any visible evidence of knock off commerce will disappear.

The second interesting point has to do with the ethnic makeup of the business owners. Most shops seem to be run by ethnic Chinese. Canal Street skirts New York's Chinatown. There are book sellers on tables set up curbside. These folks are Southwest Asian - either Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan or Bangladeshis. I'm not good enough to make finer distinctions. From time-to-time lone black men will move through the crowd pulling out watches in small display boxes. These men are all African, based on their accents.

If sales tax is collected on Canal Street or if any paperwork is kept, I've yet to see it!

Steffie bought a few watches and a head band. Helaine and I watched.

For our 20th anniversary dinner, Helaine made reservations at Rocco's in the Flatiron District. Rocco's is the scene of the reality show, "Restaurant." We caught a cab after a few minutes of jockeying for the proper location and quickly moved uptown.

Our reservations were for 5:30, but we were early, so Steffie and Helaine popped into a local furniture store while I took some photos. From the Flatiron District the Empire State Building dominates the northern skyline.

In order to eat at Rocco's you have to sign a bunch of waivers acknowledging that a TV show is being taped here and that you give up all rights to the production company. I signed, but am unsure how AFTRA (the performers union I belong to) would react to this.

It's a moot point. I doubt I'll be on the show.

Rocco's is a nice Italian restaurant, undistinguished in most ways except for the camera crews running around, the cameras on the ceiling and the casting call fresh contingent of waiters and waitresses.

Helaine and Steffie had spaghetti and meatballs (the house specialty) while I had linguine with white clam sauce. Dinner was good, not great.

As we ended dinner, Helaine spotted Rocco's mom. She is actually responsible for the spaghetti and meatballs. With the TV show she had become a minor celebrity. Pictures were taken, of course.

We headed uptown by cab toward the Music Box Theater and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. We got to the theater and heard the news: Ashley Judd was sick. She would not be performing tonight. Since she was the big star, refunds would be offered. Helaine and Steffie decided to pass on the understudy, and I went along. We weren't alone. I believe most ticket holders walked.

There might be a back story here. Just the day before, in the New York Times, Ned Beatty had been less than kind toward Judd and Jason Patric. To paraphrase, they were working hard but didn't have the chops that many unemployed Broadway actors had. It was not a glowing endorsement.

Since the show would be dark on Thanksgiving, taking Wednesday off would give Ashley two in a row and some time to get over what Beatty said. Was she sick? Was she pissed? I just don't know. Ashley and I never did get together.

This left us without anything to do, but there was a possibility. We had heard the Thanksgiving Eve balloon inflation on the Upper West Side was very visual, so it was into a cab again.

Columbus Circle was already closed in anticipation of the parade, so we went far west and scooted up to the 70's before cutting back to Central Park West. We followed a crowd to what we thought was the one block line to the balloons. Nope. Once we got to where the entrance should be, we found out there was another 2, maybe 3, block wait.

Too much. We headed back to the hotel.

In retrospect that was a great idea because Thanksgiving Day was going to be quite full and begin very early!

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.

I grew up in New York City. OK, it was in Flushing, Queens, in what is referred to as a "two fare zone." Still, it's part of NYC.

I never attended Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Sure, I watched it on TV when I was growing up, but that was totally different. Well, I assume it's totally different. How would I really know? There was always the possibility that watching Macy's parade in person is like watching professional football in person. Professional football is much, much better watched on TV (Did I mention my friend Barry invited me to see the Eagles - Dallas game at Lincoln Financial Field in Philadelphia on December 7... and I'm going).

Helaine says she woke up around 4:00 AM. I was sleeping. I'll take her word for it. Steffie and I woke up closer to 5:00. We were out of the hotel before 6:00 AM, on our way to the Upper West Side.

At this time of day I felt better taking a cab. We walked to 6th Avenue and found a taxi within a minute or two. The trip uptown was uneventful.

Because of the parade, many streets were closed to traffic. So, we got off the cab at 72nd and Columbus and began to walk toward the park. At the corner, we saw an open deli and walked in for coffee, juice and some carbs.

As we walked up 72nd Street, you couldn't help but notice the police presence. They were everywhere. I'm not sure if this has changed over time, but it seems to me that cops are younger, and less athletic than they once were. Granted, at age 53, it's starting to become more and more difficult to find people older than me.

Central Park West was deserted. Across the street, we saw bleachers that we had spied the night before. Steffie thought they might be ours for the asking, but alas, they had been promised to folks with better connections and more pull than we had.

I had contacted Al Roker, asking him if he could help and he said he only got two! He hosts the telecast, for heaven's sake! I am way down the totem pole from where Al sits. I didn't have a chance.

We found a spot, at the curb line, under a construction scaffold, in front of an apartment building. We were right on the line of march. There would be nothing between us and the parade.

The 6:00 AM Central Park Temperature was 43°. As Thanksgiving Days go, this was incredibly balmy. Though the forecast had called for overcast skies, the sun rose into a sky of blue.

Overhead, four helicopters kept watch. The lowest flying, a blue police helicopter, made clockwise circles from the area around the Museum of Natural History, over Central Park, down to Columbus Circle and then back up to the museum, flying just west of us and over the apartments.

Even before the crowds came, the police (mostly auxiliary police) took their posts. I have seen police, in situations where they were constantly being challenged and pressed to yield something (like better seating) get surly. Nothing even close to that happened. These cops were in charge, secure, and happy to be there.

On either side and behind us, the crowd began to grow. It's possible that we could have come a half hour later and still found a good viewing spot, but it was worth getting up early to guarantee what we had gotten. Helaine and Steffie spoke with some people nearby who were visiting from Mississippi. I lied down in the fetal position and attempted to catch up on my sleep. It was futile... though sleeping on the sidewalk isn't as bad as you might imagine (though it is close).

If you watch the parade on TV, you see performances that take place in front of Macy's, on 34th Street. We were about 2 miles north of there. I'm not 100% sure, but I believe the floats, marching bands and balloons are shot at the parade's beginning. We never got to see the awful lip syncing performances that this parade is known for. But, all the marching bands and other 'mass' performers did do their thing as they passed us by.

The parade really is special. The balloons are as big, maybe bigger, than they seemed on TV. The bands were on key and in step. Everyone in the parade seemed to be having a good time.

Steffie and I enjoyed watching the balloon captains guide their teams down CPW. I had been a balloon captain in New Haven's St. Patrick's Day Parade. We're talking a much smaller balloon, going down streets that were often capped with power lines. It was up and down, up and down. We did see one captain get his group to raise the balloon by unrolling their lines a specific amount in unison. Nicely done.

The largest applause in the parade came when the NYPD Marching Band came by. It is obvious that the people of New York, and the rest of America, will always be thankful to the police and firemen for what they did during 9/11.

It's one thing to claim heroism and bravery. It's quite another to actually display heroism and bravery, under fire.

The line of march took nearly three hours to pass our vantage point. I took as many photos in as short a time as I ever have before. Before we returned to the hotel room, I had filled a 340 MB microdrive and a 512 MB compact flash card.

I am pleased with the pictures. Taking nearly 5,000 pictures over the last 9 months, has made me a better photographer. I have also benefited from the technical powers of my Fuji Finepix S602Z camera. There's not much it won't do. Coupled with Photoshop, this is one versatile camera.

It will show in an automatic mode, picking the best settings. I like to manually set the camera, so I can take pictures that are beyond the camera's capabilities. Specifically, I'll set the shutter fast enough to reduce shake problems and then shoot in areas without enough light to get clean photos. Then, with Photoshop, I'll bring up the light levels and try (not always successfully) to remove some of the noise that low light brings.

Digital cameras aren't yet at the point of film cameras when it comes to quality of the finished image. But, they are so close and allow you to shoot so many more pictures, that it makes no sense to shoot anything but digitally.

As the end of the parade passed 72nd Street, we got up to leave. There is a subway station right at the corner, across from the entrance to The Dakota (the apartment building where John Lennon lived, and in front of which John Lennon died). The line was long, but orderly.

Inside the station, transit workers and police wisely kept the crowd behind the turnstiles because the lower, southbound, platform was jammed. There was no sense overloading the platform and making a difficult situation dangerous. As the platform load lightened, they opened the gates and let passengers onto the train without paying fares. Again, this was a very smart move and helped with crowd control.

It only took a few minutes to get to the station at 42nd and 6th Avenue, near the NY Public Library and Bryant Park. We walked 6th to 44th Street and turned toward the hotel... only to run into a police line.

Because the parade was still passing through Times Square, and that area was overloaded, the police were keeping additional people from moving in. I said we were going to our hotel, and after I produced a plastic room 'key' we were on our way.

My first view looking down 44th Street was of Wild Thing passing between buildings. It's a totally different look from what you'd see on Central Park West. The confinement of Times Square makes the balloons seem even larger than they do in the wide open space adjacent to the park.

At this time I realized, we really didn't have to go to Central Park West and 72nd Street, we could have walked down to Times Square. But, we probably would have had to be there almost as early, faced a larger crowd and stayed longer because it is so much farther down the line. All things considered, I'm not unhappy we went uptown.

We all went back up to the room and crashed - but not for long. Soon, Steffie and Helaine were heading out to shop, under the false impression that stores like Macy's were open on Thanksgiving Day.

I slept.

For Thanksgiving dinner, we walked up through Times Square to The ESPN Zone. I know what you're saying, what could be less Thanksgiving than The ESPN Zone? Of course, you're right. But, Helaine had an ulterior motive, she wanted to see Miami vs Dallas (and was ecstatic when Miami beat the Cowboys, giving the Eagles the opening they took today to move atop the NFC East - but I digress).

We got on the list and Steffie and I started playing arcade games. I am impressed by the state of gaming today. I saw a woman boxing against a computerized opponent. I played a few holes of golf. Steffie and I raced on wave riders (she won) and drove sports cars (I won).

We went to the dining room, surrounded by dozens of TVs, all showing Miami at Dallas. Our waiter was Charlie. Whether it's an honor or not, Charlie was an excellent waiter. He was very attentive, informative and friendly. He Had a been working since early Thanksgiving morning when the Zone threw a breakfast for policeman working the parade.

Our night would end at the Al Hirschfeld Theater, about as far west as you can get on 45th Street and still consider it "Broadway." This theater used to be the Martin Beck, but I guess Marty doesn't have as much pull as he once had.

We had bought tickets for Wonderful Town before it open, while the show was in previews. I had been left cold by its radio ads. We were very lucky, because this show was very good.

Here's some of what Ben Brantley said in The New York Times:

Wow! Can you get a better review than that?

Still, the show started a little slowly... but then it built. The orchestra, instead of being in the pit, was on stage. This forced all the staging to be close to the apron. The sets were quite minimalist with good use of flown, transparent 'walls'.

To me, Donna Murphy was very reminiscent of the best of Lucille Ball. That's a hell of a compliment. She was able to go over her character to mug for the audience, but never went far enough out of character to not immediately step back in. And, it was always funny, never intrusive or self serving.

Jennifer Westfeldt, as the younger, hotter sister, had a beautiful voice. The rest of the cast was excellent. The audience was appreciative.

left the theater, exhausted, and walked back to the hotel. Part of our conversation had to do with the fact that we couldn't believe we had been here less than two full days.

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.