Tuesday, February 5, 2013

NYC

Last week I spent one night in "The City". It has been years since I have worked there. We were meeting the folks from Burlington, and it was a single appointment with all their buyers.
So I flew in the night before to LaQuardia, took a cab to 32nd and Broadway, checked into my hotel, then decided to go exploring. My rationalization was to walk the 6 blocks to the building where the meeting was going to take place and have it timed from my hotel to the appointment.

It was a drizzly, cold night. I had changed into jeans and pullover sweater, grabbed my heavy coat and just wandered around, watching the people, and seeing the sights. As I strolled up Broadway, crossing the numbered streets in ascending order, it occurred to me that there was something quite unique about New York. The more I watched the people scurry past me, the more it became important to decide what it was that made the city different.

As it relates to foot traffic, it was a lot like Vegas. People crowded on the sidewalk is a constant reminder that both New York and Vegas thrive without the modern convenience of cars and parking and traffic. But this is where the similarity ends. There was simply something different in these two cities.

Dinner was in a restaurant adjoining my hotel. My dining spot was at the edge of the dining room and the bar. Since I was by myself they put me at the smallest table, wedged into a corner, out of the way. As I sat and watched it occurred to me that there was a rich blend of languages flowing in eddys around my spot. German from a group just barely in my sight line to the right, English (as in England) right in front of me at the bar, and something else to my left, looked like middle Eastern, who knows. I was the only Texan in the area as far as I could tell. This simply added to mind strings of the evening. Was this the reason the city seemed so unique?

The next morning I rolled out early and walked to a Starbucks I had spotted the night before. It was raining, I was anxious toget there. When I walked into that wonderful aroma of coffee and pastries I looked around and realized there were no places to sit. Not crowded, no chairs. The only option was a stand-up bar running along the window facing out to the street. So at 6:30AM, I am sipping my Veranda and munching on my pumpkin cake slice watching the bundled up folks hurry along through the rain.

Then it hit me. The difference between Vegas and NYC is the way people walk. Vegas is a meandering sort of dawdle, gazing at the huge signs and billboards advertising Vegas shows with all the glitz possible. The NYC crowd had their heads focused in front of them and had places to go, people to see. It was the difference between a stroll and mission. New Yorkers are accused of being rude. I think they are less rude and more abrupt. They don't have time for anyone who doesn't know the system. Get moving or get out of the way. They live their lives having to negotiate a place and circumstance where there are millions of people trying to get from one place to another with as little interference as possible. I kind of like the pace and point of their efforts. It was nice to finally put that nagging insight into place.

I don't care for NYC, but I get it. I hate Vegas and I don't get it. I find Vegas to be sad and depressing. NYC is simply moving forward, with or without me.

Godspeed, the journey is a good one, but the journey with purpose is the better one.
Don