My First Full Day in NY:

The next morning was Saturday.  I had purchased two tickets to "John Gabriel Borkman".  One was a cheap-seat ticket for the Saturday evening show, and the other was up-close for the Sunday matinee.  By the way, isn't that a hideous promo picture in that link?  What were they thinking?

Since I had most of the day to kill before going to the theatre, I spent it exploring, of course.

The first thing I did was walk to and from the BAM Harvey Theater to assure myself that I could do it, and that it looked like a safe place to walk alone at night.  If it looked too seedy, I'd have to work out transportation plans.  As it turned out, that was not a problem.  Brooklyn is a little worse for the wear after the snow storm of a few weeks ago, and there are still some piles of trash around from when trash pick-up was neglected, but I understand that isn't the norm.  There were piles of old snow around, and people were industriously shoveling sidewalks. 

There were lots of people around, going about their business and interacting with one another, but no one seemed scary.  A comparable area in the Bay Area would have had people lying on the sidewalk or mumbling loudly to themselves, or wandering into the street with a baseball bat.  I didn't see anything like that at all on my entire trip.

Like I said before, I had studied Google Maps street view in depth, so getting to and from the theater was pretty easy and familiar.

Once I had satisfied myself that I'd be able to not get lost, I ventured down into the nearest subway station (which you can't miss, because they are everywhere) and purchased a MetroCard.  The signs are self-explanatory, and even though I don't know New York, I did know that I wanted to head towards Central Park in Manhattan, because that's where the Guggenheim Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art are. 

It was a longer ride than I expected, but I enjoyed it.  Mostly people just sat quietly, but one guy came in and did a magic trick or something.  I would later find that this is a regular occurence.  Someone comes into the car and gives a little performance.  One lady sang a praise Jesus song, and another time a couple of guys came in and did a little mariachi number.  It was kind of fun, but I didn't give them any money. 

Speaking of money, I'm still working on my $8 glass of chardonnay.  (Remember, I composed these posts while waiting for my flight home.)  The lady who tends bar says we're the first customers she's had all day, now that her shift is over.  She says she gets so bored and sleepy, and that the planes coming in to land every 30 seconds are like sheep, trying to lull her to sleep.  The one other person here just ordered a Bloody Mary, and he can't possibly be a day over 17.  Good on him, I say.  He seems to know a lot about Bloody Marys.

Anyway, back to Saturday.  I found the Guggenheim Museum, and walked inside, but they were installing a new exhibit, so only part of it was open.  I spent a little time inside, but it was a bit of a bore.  You look up into the giant skylight thingy, with it's interesting architecture, and go, "Ooh, that's nice."  But that's about all.

So I left and walked several blocks to the Met.  And here, let me digress a bit once again and take a moment to say that I can see why so many rich and famous people live in this area.  It's about as nice and convenient as you can get.  Heck, I wouldn't even mind being one of those doormen for those fancy apartment buildings.  Of course, they probably have to take the subway home to Brooklyn at the end of their shift.  But I think I'd enjoy standing there and watching the people walk by. 

The Met was interesting and enjoyable, except for the fact that, like every other public, indoor space in New York, it is heated to about 85 degrees.  New Yorkers seem perfectly content to bundle themselves up in their great winter coats, and wrap giant woolly scarves around their necks, in a big slip knot under their chins, and keep all that gear on when they are indoors, where the temperature is like an Arizona summer.

I can handle the cold sting on my cheeks outside--I kind of like it, actually--but I don't like to be roasting indoors while carrying a bunch of bulky winter outerwear over my arm.  You'd think they'd want to save energy, but no.  Apparently they'd rather get heatstroke.

It was neat to see some of the familar, famous paintings up close.  There are a few that I always thought were a bit ho-hum when seen as a little print, but which are are absolutely breathtaking in their real life full glory.

 Speaking of being absolutely breathtaking in one's real life full glory, it was time for me to go back to Brooklyn, for my first showing of JGB.  To see Alan Rickman on stage. Squeeee!!!