WTC

So, I knew this day was coming for a long time and I wasn't really looking forward to it. Though we didn't go until late afternoon, the event was the largest of the day and I don't feel like I can dive into other trivialities without sharing this first. My first, and only, trip to New York was early September 2001. I remember looking up in wonder at the World Trade Center towers as we rode by in our open-air tour bus. At the time we decided not to go in because of all of the crowds, which I don't necessarily regret, but it still feels odd to have developed even a remote relationship with the place so close to the attacks.

The "Events of September 11" have reached near cliche status and I have to admit that was in the back of my mind as we approached the site. I felt very uneasy and confused, both skeptical and sad, and like I was walking towards something that I didn't really want to see. As we neared, the scene was not at all like I expected. I thought I would be walking up to a gaping hole surrounded by chain-link peppered with flowers. Instead, there seems to be quite a separation between the actual site and the fences defining the end of general public access. The area itself has very much taken on the look of any normal construction site. The only difference is the general somber attitude of the crowds and brief placards describing both the history of the WTC and memorials of the big day.

I felt heartened to share the experience with many different types of people from all over the world and felt inspired that so many others were simply taking time to slowly wander and contemplate the area without the need to speak. I tried to put aside my feelings of skepticism and distrust, instead trying to remember how I felt that day, the countless personal stories I'd read, and searching for faint glimpses of what it might have felt like to have been there that day. Laurie and I circled the site taking the time to read the occasional sign and simply stopping to look. As I glanced around I saw the occasional tear, but mostly people were just slowly walking along the fence. Regardless of background, nationality, or ethnicity I felt a sense of emotional solidarity with those around me. Not really knowing what to do, I'd stop and try to repeat and remember one of the names etched in the memorial signs.

Near the center of the site, there is a major subway stop that I found a welcome break. It was nice to feel the injection of energy and the casual emotion of the people that pass by every day. I don't know much about what life here was like before, but I imagine things are much like they are today. Stressed-out financial types rushing to the evening train, hordes of tourists, and even the occasional knick-knack stand. It's nice to see the rebirth of the area, though it's weird to witness the normal trivial stresses of those so close to such a powerful site. I would imagine that living and working next to such a place is quite a burden and I can't really fault those pushing to catch their train and shouting about the next big sale into their phones. I do worry that the "what's really important to me?" changes that individuals made in their lives is slowly fading away. On the other hand, it is comforting to realize that life and time move on and in the end even the largest events of our day will simply be a footnote in history. Regardless, make the time in your life to do the things that you enjoy, challenge yourself, and remember that your time here is short and fragile.

Whew! That's a lot to get off my chest and I know I can't really put into words the intense feelings I had today.

So . . . the peanut butter place. Ever since I read about this I'd been wanting to go and today was finally a good opportunity. My expectations were quite high and I didn't feel that any place could do one of my favorite (and daily) foods justice. Unfortunately my skepticism was correct. Though the sandwiches were good there wasn't anything served on a tortilla and the menu was really centered among a few items. Maybe I needed to ask for the "addicts" menu, but I was not impressed. The service was fine, but it took quite awhile to create a peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich on two slices of toast (Laurie got the PBLT). My tortilla and peanut butter (with honey in the morning, jam in the afternoon) concoctions take little more than a couple minutes to make and I usually throw them together as I'm running out the door. I know with a little time and elbow grease I could revolutionize the New York peanut butter culinary experience.

NYU seems like a pretty cool place. I can imagine it would be quite easy to get caught up in the energy of the area.

From there we headed back to the South Street Seaport to try to get Yankees tickets for the final opening series game against the Red Sox tomorrow. We sucked it up and bought some expensive tickets, but our general low-level of enthusiasm seemed to slightly annoy the ticket girl. It'll be interesting to see where we wind up as I wouldn't be surprised if she put us directly behind a column.

While downtown we decided to take a walking tour of the area. There was a lot to see and the depth of the man-made canyons is astounding. I really enjoyed the history of the area, which Laurie and I would occasionally pause to read in our guidebooks -- fully meeting the tourist stereotype with open guidebooks and Yankee hats. My favorite was the Customs House and Bowling green. Bowling Green is the site of many famous events, the best being the sale of Manhattan to the Dutch by Indians that didn't really own the place. The guidebook wittily states "no doubt both parties went home smiling". The statues on the Customs house itself are really cool with differing images of a female "America" taking over the land and her time in history. The top of the building is lined with large detailed figures dressed in the fashion of the day representing various important financial centers in history.

We made our way to Battery Park (which we briefly ran through yesterday though I only vaguely remember the place from the out-of-shape haze I was in) and a few more cool sites. I really enjoyed the Merchant Marine memorial -- a full-size boat sculpture with several sailors reaching down to pull someone out of the actual New York harbor. There's also a memorial to September 11th here -- a large broken sphere that was pulled from the wreakage of the towers. The original sculpture was meant to symbolize world peace and it's final placement, in its damaged state, to symbolize our country's enduring strength -- multiple levels of irony that were not lost on me or hopefully the countless people throughout the world that will come to see it. Another highlight of Battery Park was watching a kid break his skateboard trying to pull a double kickflip off a four-stair -- pretty cool stuff, ask around.

The problem with a touristy area is that I instantly get my guard up. I assume that anyone local looking and willing to talk to me is trying to con me into something. The first guy simply came up to us sitting on a bench, made a little small talk, and asked me if I knew where the #4 train was. My lack of knowledge immediately identified me as an outsider and he asked if we were going to the Statue of Liberty . . . and when. "I don't know, maybe tomorrow." "Really, when?". "Next week." "Oh well, if you get out there I work in the food court. Stop by and say 'hi'." He was genuinely being a nice guy and despite my hesitation was looking for nothing more than friendly conversation. The next experience was a short 5 minutes later when an older gentleman on a bench looked up and told me to have a nice day. This caused me to quicken my stride and veer wildly away from him. I tried to save face and offered him a tight close-lipped (you know, elevator-style) smile. He smiled back and said "Where are you from?". My short reply of "Colorado" brought an even wider smile accompanied with "Oh cool, I just love Denver." What's up with these people? Don't they know the code? I've been spending the past four days learning to avert my eyes and under absolutely no circumstances make conversation. I'm staying uptown where it's safe.

We found a cool Mexican restaurant right under the Brooklyn Bridge for dinner. Two bowls of chips too many and we decided to make the long walk home instead of hopping back on the subway. Walking up Broadway was quite interesting -- each section has it's own style of shops and shoppers. It's really hard to fathom how many people live here and how active and involved they are in the daily goings-on of their city. Each time I venture out I find myself returning with a deep ache in my legs . . . and a sheepish grin.