Turning the Tables on Halloween

It’s Halloween time in the city. Despite fewer trick-or-treaters going door-to-door than in the past, the day is bigger than ever around here. In my youth, a smattering of locals decorated their front doors—and/or put carved pumpkins out on their stoops—but nothing as elaborate as what I see today. There seems, too, to be lots of Halloween parties in various venues and trick-or-treating on business thoroughfares, which gets trick-or-treaters the best bangs for their bucks. That is, less wasted time in ringing doorbells of people who aren’t home or who don’t bother answering like me.

In my day, trick-or-treating commenced immediately after school unless, of course, Halloween fell on a weekend. Typically, we had two solid hours to reap our harvests of candies, spare change, and apples with razor blades in them. Back then, daylight savings time—fall back—occurred before October 31st, so it got pretty dark by the end of our adventures. And that’s when the hooligans emerged from their holes and the serious mischief began. Home and counting our Halloween booty when the day turned to night was the place to be.

Presently, the clock change occurs in November, the Sunday after Halloween. This timely fact supplies a little more light for the little ones. And while there was ample crime in New York City in the late-1960s and early-1970s—my trick-or-treating heyday—it was nonetheless commonplace to venture about exclusively with our peers and no adult chaperones. But that was then and this is now. Statistically, the city is a lot safer than when I was growing up. Still, you’re not about to see kids as young as I was trick-or-treating without a parent or chaperone. Crime statistics don’t tell the whole story. Halloween is spookier than ever.

If I were a tourist visiting New York City at this time of year, I'd attend the annual Village Halloween Parade. It sure beats waiting on a long and winding line to get on an overly crowded boat to see Lady Liberty up-close. 

If New York City parks have these, I don't see why Facebook can't have them.

"Marley?"

Yes...with Halloween approaching, it's beginning to look a little like Christmas.

"Always move forward in life, but wait for the paint to dry." Hey, that might just be the stuff of an oversized Facebook box.

From the Tale of Two Cities file. Chanced upon various Bentleys on display at the Battery Park City marina this weekend. Later, I  encountered a deranged man turning over a restaurant's outdoor tables and raving all the while. Fortunately, no diners were sitting at them. He then dropped his pants for good measure.

There are plenty of nice views of the Statue of Liberty from the shoreline. No waiting required.

If you happen to be in this neck of the woods, be prepared to be accosted by countless men and women trying to sell you on a trip to Liberty Island. Heard one fellow telling tourists about a no-waiting-on-longer-than-long-lines alternative water taxi. I suppose it costs a lot more, but I'd jump at it.

Say it ain't so: another icon falling by the wayside? Has the venerable Colgate Clock in Jersey City run out of time?

Had a Nor'easter this past week. Look what the tide dragged in.

Look closely: There's that Indian again in a canoe with a tear drop streaming down his face.

Here's a very small part of that line from Hell. Three people on a supermarket checkout line is too many for me.

Halloween is the perfect time of the year to reflect...

And contemplate whether or not we want to slam doors shut.

Recently, I purchased twenty bars of Irish Spring soap on Amazon.com for under ten dollars with free shipping. Now that's a sale!

I always thought that Dairy Queens were the ice cream artisans.

Home is where the Stop & Shop seagulls are.

They've got supermarket garbage in which to forage and a subway station all their own to roost. It's an urban seagull's nirvana.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)

They're All Nuts, Alice...They're All Gone

In one of my favorite episodes of The Honeymooners, “Dial J for Janitor,” Ralph assumes a second job as his building’s superintendent. As part of an efficiency program he installs a house phone—a direct line to the janitor—for the tenants. But after getting a couple of calls on it—one from Mrs. Fogarty, who complained that somebody was "taking things" from her "ice box," and another from Mrs. Schwartz, who wondered if she could get Jersey on the house phone—Ralph grumbles to his wife: “They’re all nuts, Alice…they’re all gone!”

This is precisely the way I feel when observing contemporary American politics, with its beyond nutty commander-in-chief—poised to do God knows what in his remaining fifteen months as president, if he makes it that far—taking us to a lower low with each passing day. But then, too, there is the pathetic pandering of the main opposition party, which doesn’t appear to appreciate candidates who actually accomplish things and take thoughtful positions on issues. You know: reasoned stances based on actual facts, practical reality, and long-term feasibility. 

Okay, no more political talk: It’s autumn in New York—a rather nice time of year with comfortable temperatures and foliage to boot. Unfortunately, the season also comes attached to the ratcheting up of leaf blowers. Sadly, these contraptions blow year-round nowadays, but in approximately two weeks time, their full fury will be unleashed around here.

This morning on what was a pleasant and quiet start to Columbus Day, I rested for a moment on a bench in Van Cortlandt Park. However, it turned out to be one too close to Broadway and a nearby apartment building. Too close for comfort, I guess, as I was interrupted by a ubiquitous leaf blower, who cast asunder what was—until then—relative peace and tranquility.

Once upon a time the old Putnam Railroad passed through Van Cortlandt Park. It has since become a nature trail steeped in some controversy. Seems that the powers-that-be have green-lighted paving the thing over.  Apparently, bicyclists are a more potent lobby than garden-variety environmentalists.

Well, the very same powers-that-be recently filled this recurring puddle location with rocks. I suppose they know what they're doing.

Yes, New York City's Department of Parks and Recreation also employs leaf blowers. At the tail-end of my journey today, resting once more on a park bench, I was again blown away. No, not by a leaf blower this go-round but tree trimmers sawing away several yards from me.

Came upon this wreck near the local police precinct. I always hated driving. Can't think of any good reason why. I just did.

If expansion is any barometer, my old alma mater appears to be doing quite well.

My first semester at Manhattan College, in 1980, cost a whopping $1,750 in tuition. That was in fact considered a lot to me and mine back then. I was able to secure a $2,500 student loan for the year, which left me with a $1,000 shortfall to make up. My student loan payments were $77.77/month for a decade or so, which is paid in full with no help from Elizabeth Warren or Bernie Sanders.

Last week I encountered numerous panhandlers on the subway and a never-ending stream of homeless men and women on the streets as I walked from 14th Street to Penn Station.

I carry single dollars and give to as many of them as possible. But my supply just didn't meet the demand. Sad spectacle.

Many businesses in this area were forced out by eminent domain. They tried valiantly to win support, but the powers-that-be weren't too interested in these small potatoes entrepreneurs. Columbia University and its deep pockets drove many long-time businesses away. Doesn't seem fair to me.

Saw this bus yesterday morning: the Alfred Hitchcock Express?

As far as I'm concerned the free can of soda or water is the deal breaker here. So, is it or isn't for students only?

When I was a youth, we were initially told to curb our dogs, then we were asked to both curb and pick-up after our four-legged friends. Not too many people are walking their canines in the streets in the New York City here and now, which explains why these mums are fenced in.

The most exciting little piece of park in New York City can be found in Battery Park City.

Not even any benches to sit on. Like Robinson Crusoe, it's as primitive as can be.

"Those who give up essential liberty, to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety." Ben Franklin said that, which is why he is one-hundred dollar bill caliber.

Really, we have to do a little more than march for climate change action.

One of my favorite TV detectives of the 1970s, Jim Rockford, quite often searched for phone booths while on the highways and byways. He would pull over and make a call, often utilizing the phone book therein. That was then and this is now.

Finally: Can you remember when you toured a strange metropolis without a smartphone? If you really want to see all that the city has to offer, it still can be done.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)