Invisible Alternate City

My budget is tiny and the ridiculously high subway fares are killing me ($4.50 for every round trip), so I have been walking farther than I normally would. I enjoy walking. I only perceive it as something like a punishment when the weather is poor or time is short.

In an age of perpetual distraction, it is a bit of a relief to simply walk. I rarely talk on my cell phone or listen to my ipod while walking, so I focus on the surroundings. Yesterday, it occurred to me that the commentary in my head as I walk is mostly an inventory of things that happened to me in the places that I walk past.

For example, as I pass Canal at Broadway I think fondly of the now defunct Bulgarian social club that used to occupy the second floor. I remember dancing in a sweaty frenzy to foreign versions of 80s pop songs, watching Sufis perform, and joining a belly dancer (she beckoned) in her floor show. As I pass Lafayette and White, I once again admire the beautiful home of the Downtown Community Television Center and recall seeing the screening of a friend's film there. Now I can't enter the courthouse at Centre Street without thinking about two more recent events: serving a remarkably pleasant jury duty and arguing an unpleasant Small Claims case.

As I walked, I wondered whether all of this reminiscing is a natural extension of so much walking or a warning that I am living in the past. If I were employed, I wouldn't have such ample opportunity to take these memory tours of Manhattan.

On the other hand, I could be strategizing about the future as I walk. The sad fact is, I don't feel hopeful about the future and I don't know what to do about it. Perhaps that is why I am not oriented towards it. Foolish, but true.

A friend in Washington, DC recently shared a blog devoted to documenting changes in New York. It appears I am not the only one focusing on the past. It doesn't make my fixation excusable, only less unusual.

Elevator Evesdropping

After tonight's dance practice, I shared an elevator with three young men: a tall African-American with dreadlocks and braces; a short latino with athletic bag, gold chain, and baseball cap; and a quiet, lanky African-American with headphones, gold chains, and fancy track suit. They appeared to be about 20 years old.

The outgoing Latino announced to all, "I'm making vegetables and tofu when I get home!"

The tall one looked at him and said, "Is there even a word in Spanish for tofu?"

The Latino smiled, "Nah!"

First, the homeboy look of this young man didn't suggest that he was tofu eater. It was evident from the expression of his friend that he thought the same. Second, as a vegetarian for over 20 years, I immediately recalled the repeated difficulty I had ordering vegetarian dishes at a popular El Salvadorian restaurant years ago. There doesn't appear to be a word for vegetarian in Spanish.

After a pause the Latino confessed, "I'm going home to vegetables and tofu. That's sad!" He shook his head and then said, "Well, I've got two cats." Pause. "I'm going home to vegetable tofu and two cats. That's sad!"

Finally, the quiet one said forlornly, "At least you have two cats. Some people don't have anyone to come home to."

We exited the elevator and all three stood at the entrance holding the door for me, which was super sweet. I was compelled to break the New Yorker's 4th wall and tell them I enjoyed their conversation. The smiled shyly, thanked me, and walked toward apartments with vegetable tofu, cats, or emptiness.

Detox

It's been at least a year and a half since I relinquished my television. It was old and very heavy. I didn't have a place to put it and didn't want to pay to move it, so I let it go.

I am not a devoted television viewer. There have been shows that I liked to watch, but television isn't important to me.

Antennas don't work well in New York, so it is difficult to get any reception without cable. Regardless, I am amazed that most people spend a minimum of $40 a month to watch television.

So, it was a little perplexing to find myself avidly following Conan O'Brien's split from NBC. I read every New York Times article about it, and even watched numerous highlights from the final shows on You Tube.

Very little bores me, but I consider Jay Leno boring. His shtick might have been edgy in the days of Lawrence Welk; it is embarrassingly unfunny now. I am not a great fan of Conan, but his sense of humor is far move relevant than Leno's. Besides, Leno's new show bombed.

Therefore, NBC's decision to pay Conan to go away so Leno could take his spot seemed bizarre.

It wasn't until I was viewing the final show that I realized Conan's situation was similar to a lay off. Sure, he was paid handsomely to go away, but he was forced out and publicly humiliated like the rest of us cashing unemployment checks.

It was cathartic to watch him rant about NBC and his ill treatment. Many viewers probably lived revenge fantasies vicariously through Conan as he complained about his soon-to-be-ex-employer to a huge audience and performed skits in which he pretended to waste NBC's money flagrantly.

His severance package is enough to last him several lifetimes. I am using my nest egg to pay for rent, health insurance, and groceries. So, there is little similarity in our positions. Yet I appreciate that his situation highlighted another dumb decision by a big US corporation. How can anyone defend the notion of self-correcting capitalism when high-paid executives are making poor decisions repeatedly?

NBC's split agreement prohibited Conan from hosting a television show for 8 months. Network TV's audience is being leached away by the internet. Are TV executives the last people to understand that television needs to move to the internet to survive? The same cable companies carrying television signals also supply broadband internet service. It's flowing through the same hardware. When Katie Couric's interviewed Sarah Palin in September 2008, more people saw it on You Tube than CBS.

It seems to me that Conan could cause more "damage" to Leno/NBC by hosting an internet-based show rather than a television show. The average person knows television is not going to regain market share in its present format, but the big bosses at the networks seem unaware of it and chose to bet tens of millions of dollars that a has-been like Leno is going to lure viewers.

It's another indicator of the type of poor decision making that has lead to the topsy-turvy economic situation in this country.