Big Yellow Taxi

Why, hello! It has been frickin' FOREVER since I've written. I kept meaning to, but you know. Life gets in the way. I was finishing "Ragtime" and then suddenly it was the holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's, and my day job was obnoxiously busy. Besides, I'm pretty sure that not many people read this blog anyway, so I'm not worried that anyone was waiting with bated breath for the next one. Blah blah blah. Let's just get to the point of what I wanted to write about.

My new friend Katy posted this on her Facebook page in October, and I just read it and thought, "I completely agree." It's an article about something I frequently consider: how, in New York City, it's especially hard to keep a relationship alive if you live in separate boroughs. I've casually dated a couple of people from Brooklyn/Manhattan/wherever, and I've got friends all over the place. And I suppose that if the person is worth traveling for, platonically or otherwise, he or she might be worth holding onto. But ONLY if they're also willing to come to Astoria, too. Two-way street, my friends. Anyway, definitely read this article. Hopefully this link works, but if not, just Google the title: "When Love Is a Schlep". (Genius.)

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/18/realestate/18cov.html

One of the guys in this article likes to joke that he lives in New Hampshire and his girlfriend lives in Delaware--in actuality, it's western Harlem and Sunset Park, Brooklyn, but when you consider how much time and how many trains it takes to get from point A to point B, it may as well be another state. Anyone who is unfamiliar with the city is probably also unfamiliar with interborough traveling, and the reality of living in the "same city" as your significant other and friends and still never seeing each other. New York's New York, right? Yes and no. I always reference the "Sex and The City" episode where Steve wants to move to Brooklyn, and the fuss that it causes within the clique--Miranda says, at one point, "I can't move to Brooklyn! Even cabs won't go there!" I can't even tell you how many times I've heard/said, "Oh, no. I'm not going all the way to Brooklyn that late/I'm not going all the way home in between ______ and _______" etc. etc. It's a blessing that New York is so interesting, because the need for time-killers between important stuff is overwhelming. You can't just pop home for a quick few minutes unless you're in your own neighborhood, thus the need to carry around everything you'll need for that day (and sometimes an overnight bag). I think part of the reason New Yorkers are so amazing is because to live here, it takes an unearthly amount of energy just to plan and execute each day. Just to run your own life. We depend on public transportation to a degree that non-New Yorkers can't even fathom. If you're not "a planner", fine, but I most definitely am, and I've been known to plan my transportation days or weeks in advance, in order to ensure punctuality for important things. The mass transit option on Google Maps has been a complete lifesaver. I've lived here since '04 and on a weekly basis have still had this thought: "How the hell do I get THERE?!" I have panic attacks when I'm late, anywhere, and even the most careful planning can sometimes be derailed (pun intended). I've always enjoyed walking in the city; even though here it's pretty much a necessity doesn't mean you can't look around and take everything in. I know people who have walked from Manhattan to Astoria on a whim, people who regularly jog from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and so on. When I first moved to the city I remember walking from my dorm on 70th Street and Broadway to Times Square (roughly thirty blocks) and being amazed by the fact that it didn't seem that far. Because really, it's not--nor is it a difficult walk if you're accustomed to this lifestyle. One of the coolest things about walking (or biking) aimlessly in the city is that it's the only way to properly see how streets relate to each other, how neighborhoods and sections connect, and how close everything really is. You have lightbulb moments: "Oh, THIS is where that is! I totally know where I am!" or "I never knew _______ was near _______". A distance that would take less than twenty minutes by car can take over an hour via subway, which is not something you realize when you first move here. My first trip from Williamsburg to Astoria by car was a revelation.

I just visited North Carolina for Christmas, and was struck (as I always am) by the total relativity of the concept of convenience. The morning after I arrived, I had to go to the store for something urgent, and I was on something of a time constraint. The only logical choice was to jump in the car and drive there. Walking would have taken me over an hour and a half, as the store in question is five miles away. I just Google Mapped it, from our house in NC to the store, and according to that, the time it would have taken to walk there is within 5 minutes of the amount of time it would take me to walk from my doorstep in Astoria to my job in Manhattan. Now THAT is something to think about, right? But something that seems completely and totally ridiculous in NC (ie, walking anywhere) doesn't seem that farfetched here. I say this constantly: if a friend of mine in NC lived even 45 minutes to an hour away from me, I would see that friend maybe thrice a year, if that--unless they were so incredibly special to me that I was willing to make that drive. I'd be all, "Good luck, see you at Christmas." Why is that? Maybe because here, you personally are not in control of the actual physicality of getting to your destination, besides the walk to the train. Once you get on the train, you can zone out (to an extent) about what's happening, and even squeeze in some reading or work. When you're driving (if you're a good driver), you do need to pay absolute attention, all the way there. Living here, I allow for approximately 50 minutes to get to work on time, five times a week, if not more so. To get to friends in Brooklyn or Manhattan--and child, you would not BELIEVE how huge Queens seems when you're on the train. A close friend told me recently that he might be moving to Queens from Brooklyn, and while that might have inspired rabid excitement from someone who didn't know better, I'm remaining neutral until I know this: where in Queens? For example, said friend commissioned me to sing at a church in Queens right before Christmas, and from Astoria to Flushing (both considered to be within the same borough, mind you), it takes a little over an hour on a good day. On a Sunday? Longer. Via two trains and a bus. So even if he moves to Queens, I may not even see him any more often than I do now, therefore I'm not doing any cartwheels (or making any attempts at doing them) until he says, "Guess what? I just got an apartment in Astoria."

As I mentioned, no one walks anywhere in NC unless it's from the car to the door of their destination. Ever. Why would you? Everything is so spread out there. New York has shitty things about it, but on the whole there are millions of unique, fun things packed into a teeny, tiny area. NC is areas of mediocre-to-awesome things spread out across a whole state. (This is why I live here now.) Many people in North Carolina (and other states), while they are lovely, don't aspire to do much except eat at restaurants, shop, and go to movies. And, you know, go on out-of-town trips, where they will seek out the nearest chain restaurant at which to eat and a larger Gap at which to shop, because that's what's familiar. I'm not saying ALL the people in NC do only these things, I'm saying many of them. I like to visit there to see family and relax, but I tend to get bored and wonder, "Is this it?" whenever I'm home. It's a fine life if that's what you want and that's the only way you know. Knock yourself out being happy with what you've got, because New York is no picnic when it comes to simplicity and relaxation. But when I was in the backseat of the car, feeling carsick while stuck in traffic in the mall parking lot with my mom and stepfather, all I could think was, "THIS IS SO IRRITATING." I should also mention that we were stuck there after having decided that we wouldn't be able to catch the beginning of the movie we were trying to see, due to the unavailability of parking spaces at said mall. When they come to visit me in NYC and we have to walk everwhere, all THEY can think is, "THIS IS SO IRRITATING." Where you live has an effect on your concept of convenience. To me, it means being able to walk outside and find everything I need while on foot, or taking the train or a cab if I want to. To everyone else in my family, convenience means being able to jump in the car and drive wherever they need to go. Having to get in the car, drive, go home, get back in the car, drive again, then drive back home is just as alien to me as walking is to them. I'm thinking, "What about traffic/gas/mechanical problems/accidents/speed limits/parking spaces?" and they're thinking "What about the weather/your shoes/the long walk/the train getting stuck/getting lost/pickpockets (whatever else country folk worry about)?" Convenience is in the eye of the beholder.

I'm not going to recount the number of times I've had to direct cabdrivers to my apartment (the ONE job I ask them to do--get me home--is sometimes too much of a challenge, apparently). Even sometimes from LaGuardia Airport, which cannot be more than fifteen minutes away from my door. I've gotten out of cabs before due to my diminishing confidence about the driver's directional prowess. I'm not paying someone to give me an unguided, unwanted tour of the city, I'm paying them to presumably get me somewhere FASTER than I can take myself. I've been taken, mistakenly, to Brooklyn after having told the driver to go to the Wall Street area.

But to end this on a funny (and vaguely creepy) note, I've also been hit on in cabs before. Several times. And the weird part is this: I'm not in the habit of taking cabs unless I REALLY need to, so if I'm in one, I'm probably in some state of desperation/exhaustion/panic/lateness/combination of all four. In what way is that attractive? Your guess is as good as mine; the first time it happened, I was on my way home from an all-nighter in Brooklyn. This was a long time ago, but I distinctly remember that it was early morning and that I looked busted. Smeared makeup, heels--in short, a hot, tranny mess. And the driver, during the ride, asked me if I'd ever dated anyone Indian, wanted me to give him my palm so he could read it, and then gave me his number right before I got out at my apartment (only because I absolutely refused to give him mine). A saner person would have disembarked long before her destination, but he seemed pretty harmless and by that point I just wanted to get home.

More recently (and by that I mean last Tuesday), I jumped into a cab at LaGuardia, on my way to pick up my cat at an unfamiliar Astoria address. I'd been there only once before, so when the cabdriver asked me (twice) where it was, I repeated the info VERY clearly, and we were on our way. I was sans makeup, wearing a hat over my hair and my long winter coat and Converse. Pretty sexy, right? The driver asked me (before we'd left the parking lot) if I was traveling from afar, and I assumed he was just making conversation so I told him I was a local, but that I was coming from NC. About five minutes later, I saw that we were in the "straight only" lane, heading toward the Triboro Bridge when we should have been turning left onto Ditmars. I thought maybe he'd misheard me and said, "We're not going into the city, are we?" He replied, "Of course we're going into the city", to which I responded, "NOOOOOO! NONONONONONO--we need to stay in Astoria--" He said, "I'm just kidding." I let out a sigh and said, "DON'T do that to me, I've had an awful day already." (I had. My flight had been cancelled and I was missing work, which I don't like to do unless I have someone to cover for me.) He apologized and proceeded to turn left, and I curiously asked him why we were in the wrong lane. He mentioned that it was easier to turn from that lane. (?) Here is a general recap of our conversation from there.

Old, friendly Greek cabdriver, re: my bad day: When things happen that are not my control, I just relax. 'Cause it's not your fault, it's nothing you did. If it was my fault, then I'd be upset, but if not, you don't worry about it.

Me: vague "ehhhhhh" noise, thinking: "Yeah, not really asking you for advice, but thanks for the tip."

OFGC: It'll be okay. You go home, call your friends, call your boyfriend, relax.

Me: *rolling eyes in backseat* Well, I was supposed to work today, but it'll be nice to have a day off, I guess.

OFGC: Oh, what do you do? I think that you are a creative person.

Me: You are correct.

OFGC: Ahhhh, see, I knew you were a creative person. I had an idea but I wasn't sure, I think you are a designer?

Me: (wondering how he got that idea from my stellar outfit) No, I'm actually a singer/actress.

OFGC: Oh! Have you been in Broadway shows?

Me: (already exhausted by having to explain how the real showbiz world works) No, um, off-Broadway. (This is always the easiest answer when you're talking to someone who is not in show business, who will in turn act like they know what that means.)

OFGC: Do you wait tables, or are you okay now? (Meaning, "Do you make any money, you starving artist?")

Me: Um, I maitre d' at a restaurant, AND I sing and act.

OFGC: That's a hard life. A person like you, you know, intelligent, attractive, can probably make better money doing something else, but you do what you like.

Me: (Sensing where this is going) Yep.

OFGC: What about your boyfriend, is he an actor?

Me: (Now this is always the point where I have to decide whether or not to lie to a stranger about having a boyfriend. I've lied before and could have easily made something up, but in this situation there wasn't much reason to--it was broad daylight and I was tired from traveling.) Uh, I don't have a boyfriend.

OFGC: Ohhhhhh, great! I'm single too. *laughs*

Me: *confused laughter* Uhhhhh...

OFGC: Well, in the performing world, you must always be around attractive men and women.

Me: (thinking, "Straight men, you mean? No.") Um, yeah, I guess.

OFGC: (conspiratorially--apparently he was more knowledgeable about my world than I would have guessed) Well, some of the men...not all man, you know? Or all man, but they don't act like men.

Me: (mildly offended but mostly amused, and in agreeance) Yeah...(but also thinking, "Even the straight men don't always act like men.")

We arrived at my destination and he offered to wait downstairs to take me home after I collected Elsa, which was an offer I should have taken him up on, considering the hike I had to subsequently take while toting my extremely heavy bag, Elsa's bag, Elsa in her carrier, and my purse. I ended up having to take the bus, because there aren't many yellow cabs in Astoria and a gypsy cab would have been extravagantly expensive.

Anyway, I still tipped OFGC at least 20%. He got me where I needed to go, and again, was harmless. Even though I get frustrated with cabdrivers, we're all in the service industry. I take care of my own.

And you? You take care of yourself. Happy New Year.

xoxo