Sixty Degrees of Separation

It came ever-so close to seventy degrees in New York City yesterday. A new temperature record for the date was established—at sixty-nine—surpassing the previous high of sixty-three. The latter record, by the way, occurred in 1975, which triggered a memory. Just like January 11, 2020, January 11, 1975 occurred on a Saturday. I remember that unusually warm winter day because it was—well—so unusual. It prompted my younger brother and I to throw caution to the wind and dash out into the great outdoors—spaldeen in hand—without seasonal outerwear. This impulsive act of ours inspired a scolding from the wise elders, who reminded us that it was still January and wintertime. The consensus was that—even if it felt like early May—we should still be bundled up in deference to Old Man Winter. Besides, playing games with the seasons was a sure-fire way to catch a cold.

Fast-forward forty-five years to another balmy January day. I’m sitting in a subway car gazing up and down a diverse group of straphangers. Some of them, I noticed, made absolutely no adjustments at all for the abnormally mild winter weather and were wearing hats, scarves, and gloves. On the other hand, a young guy with his girlfriend sported only a short-sleeve T-shirt, shorts, and no jacket. I, at least, had on a windbreaker, which came in especially handy yesterday.

The subway car itself also reflected the atypical weather, alternately feeling like it was air- conditioned then heated. Isn't that a recipe for catching a cold? But then again, it appeared that half the passengers in eyeshot were either coughing or blowing their noses—a catch-a-cold breeding ground if ever there was one! Fortunately, I already had a cold and was among the givers and not the takers.

So, it's 2020, not 1975. In 1975, this newly-opened McDonald's restaurant was a neighborhood novelty. No breakfast was served back then and Chicken McNuggets didn't yet grace the menu. Recently, through Grubhub, I ordered from the place several times. I hadn't eaten McDonald's food of any kind in ten years or more and was initially overwhelmed by the taste sensation. Wow...what have I been missing? But just as the 1975 novelty eventually wore off, so has the 2020 equivalent. 

The 1970s were considered a very grimy time in New York City. But that was then and this is now: household trash is still not allowed to be tossed into public waste baskets...

Sadly, it seems to me that we are slowly but surely regressing back to the Iron Eyes Cody era.

And that seriously steams me!

I encountered a meme on New Year's Day that noted how we are closer now to 2050 than 1990.

I wonder if we will all be wearing space-like attire and driving around in Jetson-style cars by then.

Probably not, but we will still be producing mounds of garbage.

In life you can either have a ball or not, it's your choice. Well, not always...

Time definitely passes...it really does. I recall when Dunkin' Donuts was "worth the trip." Now, all roads lead to one.

Free continental breakfast with each park?

If I've learned anything in life it's that you can't rush things.

Ninth Avenue in Manhattan, where vestiges of old 1975 dirty New York co-exist with...

The new unaffordable 2020 New York.

Your days are numbered.

There have been increasing numbers of seemingly random attacks in New York City of late, with individuals getting assaulted and knocked down for no particular reason. So, in 2020, being afraid of some people is probably a good idea.

And this is supposed to be a bargain? Not even in today's New York.

Long live the hot dog wagon, which transcends time.

And the convenience store with the beguiling window display.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)