Recently I wrote a blog article about Manhattan losing its soul ... and now I am here to say I changed my mind. I just hadn't seen enough of the borough to find what I was hoping was still there. Walking up Broadway on the Upper West side, it is disheartening to see chain stores replace small businesses. It meant to me that Manhattan was inadvertently encouraging us all to conform to the ways of the rest of America. Well, who in NYC wants to do that?! I saw the main artery of the Upper West side experience the ugliest spiritual transplant.
But last weekend, I experienced a lot that changed my mind about Manhattan. I could just delete my old blog post and write a new one, as if I never saw things differently ... but then it would not present both sides of the same story to readers. Besides, changing one's mind or admitting to being wrong is a rare but very valuable quality in a person. So I am here to say, Manhattan's got soul!
Last weekend, I explored past Broadway onto Amsterdam and Columbus Avenues -- smaller but ever-developing avenues that run parallel to Broadway. There, on less crowded avenues, I still found many small businesses that sold unique items. The difference between now and once upon a time is that rent has gone up. These store owners sell more expensive items, but they are still independent stores. Strolling up Amsterdam and Columbus, taking a two mile walk without even trying, you can see fancy baby clothes, street vendors selling gloves, the site of a Farmers Market and Crafts festival, small bakery/cafe stores, a catch-all pharmacy, and much more. I had to look more closely than I once did, to find Manhattan's soul underneath the money, but it was there.
I did not yet have the benefit of finding the perfect little gift for someone as I did as a child for my mother; but more than once I saw the potential. My fingers itched for the wallet, but refrained so close after Christmas. I saw the purple fake fur scarf that I thought my niece would love; I saw whimsical and retro gifts for my smaller niece and nephew; and I saw small boutiques, one of which could sell my sister her new favorite jacket. I saw these stores, and made a mental note. Manhattan's soul didn't get sold, it moved!
Ten years ago, a popular book came out called Who Moved My Cheese. It is a book that uses mice in the cheese maze as a metaphor for people finding happiness. The general message is, if what you want isn't in front of you, move. Your cheese moved, and instead of asking who moved my cheese, just move with it. That is the lesson that I forgot when Broadway became commercialized. It was my loyalty to Manhattan, though, that allowed me to find my cheese anyway.
I've also heard tourists say that what they once heard about Manhattan isn't there. Well, the next one who says that to my face is going to get handed Who Moved My Cheese and a walker's map of Manhattan. Because the good news for us is, Manhattan's still got soul.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Friday, September 17, 2010
How Paris Isn't French
The last time I was in Paris, the biggest disappointment I experienced was that it didn't really feel French. There are two reasons for this: first, all the French people had left for vacation (it was August); and second, the city had become so international that American fast food chains and other signs of internationalism were everywhere.
You don't know how strange it is to visit a nation's capitol, and feel that you could be anywhere in the world. I was saddened by the sensation, and suddenly understood why Parisians are know for being hostile to visitors. Foreigners are taking over their city!
One distinct circumstance was that when Mom and I went to a French cafe for coffee and a snack (at least in Paris a snack is still a French goody), I noticed that the only other customers there were from Scandanavia. Even more of a surprise, they were ordering Coca-cola and pizza! I couldn't help wondering why anyone would visit a Paris restaurant to have soda and pizza.
I would not have noticed the distinct lack of French people and culture in Paris if I had not been to other parts of France, throughout the south, that had their own ways of maintaining culture and language. In fact, the differences among the French cities are so enchanting, I intend to write a travel article about it. French cities are as similar yet different as American cities. But they are much closer together!
It has come as a relief to me to visit Toulouse, Nice, and Lyon, to find the French culture intact. I thought that I would love Paris, but it is really the more southern cities that I enjoyed, with their better weather, better humor, and stronger grasp on national identity.
Nevertheless, as the French say: vive la difference!
You don't know how strange it is to visit a nation's capitol, and feel that you could be anywhere in the world. I was saddened by the sensation, and suddenly understood why Parisians are know for being hostile to visitors. Foreigners are taking over their city!
One distinct circumstance was that when Mom and I went to a French cafe for coffee and a snack (at least in Paris a snack is still a French goody), I noticed that the only other customers there were from Scandanavia. Even more of a surprise, they were ordering Coca-cola and pizza! I couldn't help wondering why anyone would visit a Paris restaurant to have soda and pizza.
I would not have noticed the distinct lack of French people and culture in Paris if I had not been to other parts of France, throughout the south, that had their own ways of maintaining culture and language. In fact, the differences among the French cities are so enchanting, I intend to write a travel article about it. French cities are as similar yet different as American cities. But they are much closer together!
It has come as a relief to me to visit Toulouse, Nice, and Lyon, to find the French culture intact. I thought that I would love Paris, but it is really the more southern cities that I enjoyed, with their better weather, better humor, and stronger grasp on national identity.
Nevertheless, as the French say: vive la difference!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The Fall of Manhattan
When I was growing up, Manhattan stood for family-owned stores that carried unique merchandise, small restaurants with inexpensive and cultural food, and creativity and individuality.
Some of my best memories of New York include the small hardware store that had every widget you could wish for, and the ease of the corner store that had milk, bread, band-aids, and laundry detergent. I used to love the walk down Broadway because there were so many unique stores. One Mothers' Day, I was desperate to find my mother something unique that she never knew she needed. I went into a store called Lion Antiques, and started browsing. The store did have antiques, but they also just had things that antique buyers might like. With a child's allowance money in hand, I knew my budget. I was hoping desperately that they had something for my mother that I could afford. After a few minutes, I found a small jewelry box with shell decorations on the exterior, and I could afford it. My mother spent many of her younger summers sailing and near the beach, so I guess that's why the jewelry box felt right. My mother was delighted and surprised at the gift, and that event sparked an interest in me for finding the right unique gift.
There was also a fantastic candy store in our neighborhood. It wasn't M&Ms or Hershey's like mid-town has now. They sold bulk amounts of gel candies, peppermint strips, button candy, and a variety of chocolate and non-chocolate candy. This store was perfect for Christmas, when we built gingerbread houses -- every door handle, roof shingle, and window frame was represented by the right shaped candy. Building a gingerbread house was an unforgettable exercise in imagination for us -- which occurred because someone had the right candy.
I love New York City the way a native does -- with its warts and all. But over the years, when I visit Manhattan, I am saddened to see that it has become a chain store borough. Where there were stores that sold the unique clothing for women or the perfect Mothers Day gift, I now see a Gap, a Banana Republic, or even a Bed, Bath & Beyond. Although my mother, who still lives there, embraces some of the convenience of having some stores like that so close by (saving her a trip to Macy's), I can't help remembering her trip to these stores for a certain sized pie tin. My mother is a master pie maker, and she has tweaked her recipes over the years to make them just right. In addition, she has learned to use a pie pan in a certain shape and size. So mom went looking for this pie pan at two of her nearby kitchen chain stores. Not surprisingly, neither of them had the tin -- and especially not surprisingly, they had the exact same pie tins.
All of this reminds me of a conversation I had with a store clerk the other day. She worked in a boutique close to me, and I was expressing my love of the store's unique clothing and how it helps me create my own look. The clerk said, "exactly ... if you want to look like everyone else, you can shop at the Gap." Manhattan used to be a place where you found boutiques like the one I use in Alexandria (VA). Today, if you find them, they don't have the youthful style they once had, they cater to wealthier women looking for their own style. And the younger crowd is stuck with the Gap.
I understand that Manhattan is an expensive borough. What I see there these days is that people like me and the stores we want are pushed into Brooklyn, Queens, and other boroughs that are a longer train ride away from where a lot of people work. The reason why this represents the Fall of Manhattan to me is that the borough is losing its soul and identity. Instead, it is becoming a home for corporate chains. I recently heard a story about a young man in his 20s searching for the city to create a new business for himself the way he just did in Alexandria. He went to NYC, and left, not finding the legendary vibrancy and creativity he always heard about. I think he went to Seattle instead. That never used to happen, but its happening now. I'm sorry, Manhattan, but you sold your soul -- and I have to say although I hate it -- I saw this happening 10 years ago when I was in law school. I even wrote a poem about it. Manhattan has fallen.
Some of my best memories of New York include the small hardware store that had every widget you could wish for, and the ease of the corner store that had milk, bread, band-aids, and laundry detergent. I used to love the walk down Broadway because there were so many unique stores. One Mothers' Day, I was desperate to find my mother something unique that she never knew she needed. I went into a store called Lion Antiques, and started browsing. The store did have antiques, but they also just had things that antique buyers might like. With a child's allowance money in hand, I knew my budget. I was hoping desperately that they had something for my mother that I could afford. After a few minutes, I found a small jewelry box with shell decorations on the exterior, and I could afford it. My mother spent many of her younger summers sailing and near the beach, so I guess that's why the jewelry box felt right. My mother was delighted and surprised at the gift, and that event sparked an interest in me for finding the right unique gift.
There was also a fantastic candy store in our neighborhood. It wasn't M&Ms or Hershey's like mid-town has now. They sold bulk amounts of gel candies, peppermint strips, button candy, and a variety of chocolate and non-chocolate candy. This store was perfect for Christmas, when we built gingerbread houses -- every door handle, roof shingle, and window frame was represented by the right shaped candy. Building a gingerbread house was an unforgettable exercise in imagination for us -- which occurred because someone had the right candy.
I love New York City the way a native does -- with its warts and all. But over the years, when I visit Manhattan, I am saddened to see that it has become a chain store borough. Where there were stores that sold the unique clothing for women or the perfect Mothers Day gift, I now see a Gap, a Banana Republic, or even a Bed, Bath & Beyond. Although my mother, who still lives there, embraces some of the convenience of having some stores like that so close by (saving her a trip to Macy's), I can't help remembering her trip to these stores for a certain sized pie tin. My mother is a master pie maker, and she has tweaked her recipes over the years to make them just right. In addition, she has learned to use a pie pan in a certain shape and size. So mom went looking for this pie pan at two of her nearby kitchen chain stores. Not surprisingly, neither of them had the tin -- and especially not surprisingly, they had the exact same pie tins.
All of this reminds me of a conversation I had with a store clerk the other day. She worked in a boutique close to me, and I was expressing my love of the store's unique clothing and how it helps me create my own look. The clerk said, "exactly ... if you want to look like everyone else, you can shop at the Gap." Manhattan used to be a place where you found boutiques like the one I use in Alexandria (VA). Today, if you find them, they don't have the youthful style they once had, they cater to wealthier women looking for their own style. And the younger crowd is stuck with the Gap.
I understand that Manhattan is an expensive borough. What I see there these days is that people like me and the stores we want are pushed into Brooklyn, Queens, and other boroughs that are a longer train ride away from where a lot of people work. The reason why this represents the Fall of Manhattan to me is that the borough is losing its soul and identity. Instead, it is becoming a home for corporate chains. I recently heard a story about a young man in his 20s searching for the city to create a new business for himself the way he just did in Alexandria. He went to NYC, and left, not finding the legendary vibrancy and creativity he always heard about. I think he went to Seattle instead. That never used to happen, but its happening now. I'm sorry, Manhattan, but you sold your soul -- and I have to say although I hate it -- I saw this happening 10 years ago when I was in law school. I even wrote a poem about it. Manhattan has fallen.
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