Seattle to New York

There isn't much going on this week.  I am just packing, and cleaning, and packing.  I move to Brooklyn on Saturday.  I have to take the train so I am trying to cut down to one suitcase and a bag.  

But I was looking through pictures and I thought I would put a couple of NY so far and of Seattle.  There are actually a lot of similarities.  Unless, anything eventful happens, I may stay off the blogosphere until I move on Saturday.  Til then,  

Green in New York

Sunday brought a terrible thunderstorm.  Now, normally I love these storms.  It is a great excuse to grab a book and cuddle up and spend the day inside.  But this one hit a little too close to home. When it goes from a low rumble to a snap and flash outside your window, it gets a little unsettling.  So I decided to check online to see what was going on.  Here is what I found:

"Severe Thunderstorm Warning:

...this is a dangerous storm.  If you are in its path...prepare immediately for damaging winds...destructive hail...and deadly cloud to ground lightning.  People outside should move to a shelter...preferably inside a strong building but away from windows."

I think the "deadly" is what caught my attention. I read on to read, "if you feel the hairs stand up on your body, duck and cover immediately, as you are in the line of the lightning's path."  I looked down at my hairy arms and decided to move away from the window.  

It was a great storm which took up most of the day.  It was fun to listen to the thunder. Sometimes just a normal rumbling.  Then sometimes it seemed as if it was distant and rolling closer to me.  Then there were the snaps which followed within seconds of the lightning.  This was not fun.  But it reminded me of being a kid, counting the seconds in between strike and sound.  

Today- I decided to take my recyclables to the closest depot, for the sake of this blog.  It is located at the Stop-n-Shop grocery store, a little under a mile away from the apartment.  As I walked, holding three bags of paper and two bags of glass containers, I thought of the absurdity of this system.  In Seattle apartments are forced to recycle or get charged.  This means there is recycling everywhere.  But more importantly, it is convenient.  A bin is never too far away.  But here in NY I get to lug my stuff to the depot.  But being from Seattle, I have been trained to care for our green world.  

When I got to the the "depot" I began to insert my bottles just to find that it was full.  After 2 bottles and a whopping 10 cents, the machine began to send the bottles back to me, asking me to come another time.  I then moved to the paper machine and was greeted with an electronic, "out of service, please visit another center."  Well, I had quite the dilemma.  But alas, I wasn't about to make the trek back to my apartment full handed, and I wasn't about to throw the items away.  So I placed my items on top of the machines, satisfied that it was someone else's problem now and I had no monetary gain to show for it.  If that isn't Seattle, I don't know what is.

A New Yorker watching the whole ordeal stated as I left, "You know they will probably just end up throwing that away."  I thought to myself, Fuggeaboutit.  

Romancing the Phone

The picture is of a very romantic setting just behind the New York Public Library in Bryant Park.  Some time ago, I decided to treat myself to a romantic dinner... alone.  The meal was delicious and it allowed me the precious opportunity of eavesdropping.  An animated couple sat next to me discussing the plans of a fundraiser and the name George Clooney was uttered among those in attendance.  Only in New York...or L.A. :-)  

I am cleaning my apartment in Bay Shore because next weekend I will be moving to Brooklyn. A sort of sentimentality always hits you when you are moving.  Maybe it's the thought of leaving something behind or the feeling of comfort you developed by being surrounded by familiar places and things.  So in this moment I was reminded of leaving Seattle.    

People speak of the beauty and despite the rain, they are right.  But New York is its own beauty, in different ways.  You think of your surroundings, but most of all, you think of your friends and family.  In truth, it is always a matter of time. They grow up and start their own lives.  So friendships of convenience are tested and only those that truly care about you remain.  This is life.  

So friendships are maintained over the phone.  Some days it seems like this is my only contact with the human race, as I sit reading and writing in my apartment, forgetting there is a world right outside my window.  But through the phone, we stay connected.  Today I was relieved to hear over the phone that my mother and grandfather are both healthy.  There were some concerns.  But even through these calls, our emotions are expressed, our triumphs are told, and our concerns are met with a loving voice and listening ear on the other line.    

Romancing the phone (if you don't get the reference, please see IMDB.com) is sometimes the only way to stay in touch with the ones you love.  And it's the place where you build the deep bonds that we often can't afford in the busyness and chaos of the daily grind.  So wherever you are, don't forget to pick up the phone.  For me, it has become a bit of a salvation.  A way of reaching those that sometimes seem so far away.  And until there is someone special across that table from me, we always have the phone.  

Running Around the New York "Ditch"

While going on my run, I thought I would snap a few photos of the area right on the water.  The pictures don't tell the whole picture, cause trespassing is a no no, but I think you get the point.  The area is beautiful and the houses are amazing.  I think I might be able to afford the place in the last picture.  This is right next to the canal and is on the estate of a house that makes it look like the kid's playhouse.  

  So I got to thinking about something I have seen a lot here so far.  The New York ditch.  So you meet someone and they want you to come out with them.  Then, at some point in the evening, they completely disappear.  At first it was a little unsettling.  But then it seems like the philosophy is that if you are surrounded by people you should be fine.  It's just a little weird because when you go out with someone in Seattle, you expect to at least talk to them for a portion of the evening, mainly so you know if you want to ever hang out with them again.  

   I guess it's something I am going to have to get used to and thanks to the iphone, I will be able to find my way home.  Cheers New York.  

Things Happen For a Reason

As I am forced to finish my business plan for class in the late hours of the night and likely continuing into the wee hours of the morning, I flipped on the t.v. to CNN and found the series Black in America.  Watch this program.  That's it.  For a glimpse of what I want to do with a non-profit, here is part of the business plan:

1.01  Purpose.  The purpose of Community Building Services is to research policy options to study the causes, the effects, and solutions to eradicate poverty through empowering communities and community-based organizations.  CBS will use this research and work with existing community organizations and community members to build communities that reflect the values, culture, and successes of the members. 

1.02   Goals.  CBS will use a multi-disciplinary approach to include small business formation and business contracts, basic health care analysis and policy advocacy, and arts educations and advocacy.  CBS will write policy briefs and articles educating governments, non-governmental organizations, and individuals regarding poverty.  CBS will provide resource support to existing non-governmental organizations focused on eradicating poverty.  CBS will host educational seminars and one-on-one meetings for community members interested in community building, whether it be through advocacy, forming a small business, increase attention to basic health needs, or expanding arts programs.  CBS will increase support over time to cover additional fields including education, government, law and cultural advancement. 

Not Terribly Eventful in Bay Shore

I am busily working on a business plan for my CUNY law class.  I am conducting a plan for starting a non-profit that works on policy issues for community building in poverty areas.  This is due Thursday.  For more information, wait until Thursday as I am a paying member for the procrastinating scholars association.  

So I thought I would take a little time to talk about Bay Shore.  If you want the Bay Shore chamber of commerce perspective and history thereto, look it up on Wikipedia.  My perspective is as follows.  Bay Shore is a confused community that hasn't decided if it is a suburb, a summer get-a-away or a retirement community.  First problem: isolation.  Bay Shore is the 10th stop on the Long Island Rail Road leaving from downtown Manhattan's Penn Station.  This takes a little over an hour, if you are lucky enough to happen upon an express train which only has 4 stops.  But that's not enough.  It is also one-stop past the last stop, which is Babylon, on this line.  So you then get to wait for another train that goes out to the Hamptons.  Getting to just about anywhere on this train costs $9.50 each way (off-peak) and $14.50 each way (peak).   

The closest real source of employment, or a city, is Jamaica Queens, which is about 45 minutes on the express.  So trying to determine what people do out here is almost an impossibility.  There are a fair number of hospitals in the greater county (Suffolk) and three within 15 minutes of me.  One is across the street.  This means that I get to hear the sweet sounding chirping of the sirens.  Which brings me to a question: when did they change the sirens sound?  This is not within my childhood memory.  

After determining that I wouldn't be able afford the transportation costs of working anywhere other than Bay Shore, I took a stroll to see if there were any prospects here.  What I found was funny and depressing.  One block south of my apartment is Main Street.  Yes, they have a Main Street.  And heading West on Main Street, you find exactly what you expect to find in a Mulberry type town.  There is (A) coffee shop.  There is a hardware store.  There are a few littered attorneys who, of course, specialize in personal injury cases.  There are bars (that are crosses between taverns and pubs.) and there are random convenience stores, "specialty" stores, and craft stores.  

What was depressing was the number of vacant store fronts on this street.  More than half of them are under construction, out of business, or for lease.  Heading east on Main, you get a different economic "model."  There are 3 strip malls.  These consist of your familiar fronts: Chain grocery stores, Blockbuster, independently owned "restaurants," a nail shop, and a dry cleaner.  So where does everyone work?  

The community is highly segregated.  To the South of Main, lay enormous properties with pre-Industrial Revolution houses, though sadly some have been modernized, and boats.  This leads me to believe that these may be summer houses or long island get-a-ways.  On the north side of Main, near the rail road tracks are mostly minorities with Brooklyn accents.  I live in an apartment near the tracks.  Most of the residents are families pushed away from the city due to rising costs and gentrification.  Yet there are clearly few jobs here that support family wages. This encompasses my community building concerns.  Bay Shore neither provides the economic structure for the community nor does it reflect the culture of the community that resides here.

There are many hospitals but how many residents are getting there basic health needs met or even have health care?  There are small businesses but the lawyers focus on torts.  There are real estate offices, but the real estate consists mostly of million dollar plus estates.  Finally there are comparatively few universities considering the large population.  Visiting wikipedia and the chamber of commerce, you learn that this town used to thrive.  Then crime and economic deterioration drove wealthy residents away.  The community is rebuilding but the signs of unity and community building are hidden.  Who is doing the building?     

 

Summer Time and the Living is Brooklyn

 I will be moving to Brooklyn soon.  I will be living very near Prospect Park and the Park Slope area.  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Park_Slope%2C_Brooklyn).  The pictures here are Grand Army Plaza and the actual street in front of my apartment.  So how did I get here?

I have been casually looking at apartments in Brooklyn for a while now.  Most of the ads I responded to were not of the highest quality.  For example, I showed up to an ad that said "railroad style- looking for fun roommate."  When I got there, the place was a sty, and these two 30-something hippies told me they played in a band but didn't usually play past 4 am.  Also being a railroad room, they would need to go through my room to get to the kitchen and bathroom.  I said I would get back to them.  Another option included sharing a bunk-bed with a 20 year old.  I think I may be too old for that.  

So I found an ad in a great area asking for a quiet, considerate student.  I first came and looked at the apartment 2 weekends ago.  When I got outside the apartment, the lister's phone wasn't working and I sighed another, here we go again Craigslist.... While I was waiting, a woman who was running stopped and asked me if I would help her bring up a night stand from the street.  It turned out that she would be one of my new roommates.  This was Marnie.  She is a 29 year old film student at NYU, originally from the D.C. area.  She is in her last year of the M.A. graduate program.  The other roomie is Yael.  She is 29 as well and is originally from France.  She moved to California and went to Berkley and then moved to New York.  That day, we talked for about 2 hours and I also met the woman moving out who asked if I would help bring down a couch.  I could see I was being used...but I needed to make a good impression.  Yael called the next day and offered the room.  Then she wanted to meet one more time to be sure.  

So we met at a little bar about 200 feet from the apartment.  The bar is fantastic and I met the owner who is steadily making improvements here and there.  It is a jazz/latin style place and has music from time to time and a back porch.  Great place to meet.  So after a little while talking, it became clear that was going to be a good fit.  Yael is going into her 2nd year of law school, I am going into my 3rd so I understand the stress and time she will need to study. Which is great for me.  I have a lot of little projects I want to get done and I think this is the perfect neighborhood to get the inspiration I need.   

So, the apartment is an old brownstone, on the 4th floor, and I'll try and get pics up after I move in.  I have a very small room but it's got a bed, bookcase, air conditioner, and closet so I am set.  It feels good to find a place in Brooklyn.  I really love it there.  Manhattan is so surreal, Brooklyn is just real, manageable.  So the adventure continues...moving to a new location.  

  

2nd Month in Review

There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.  There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.  You feel it, don't you? 

-Rumi

My mother asked if I would read a book with her, the book, "Three Cups of Tea."  After reading a few chapters, I put down the book, and realized things somehow come together.  This summer I am taking a class on how to manage your own small law firm.  Each of us must complete a personalized business plan and had to work with a guest speaker to conduct a presentation to the class.  I chose the topic of a non-profit on the first day of class.  As someone who does not want to be a traditional lawyer but wants to use the degree somehow and just plain wants to help people, a number of things started to hit home.  

The book is about a mountain climber who, by chance, happens upon a small village in the Himalayas and finds an overwhelming need for help.  The children needed to be educated. Alone and broken, literally, this man started an uphill battle but in the end succeeds in grandiose fashion.  After a few weeks of class, I had found a goal.  I want to start a non-profit while in Grad School.  I want to develop policy in poverty stricken areas, nationally and abroad, and work with non-profits who provide direct aid.  Then I met the guest speaker I was to present with.  She had done exactly what I want to do, in a different focus area, and it all came together.  I started to think if I hadn't come to NY this may not have come to me.  I wouldn't have taken the class and I wouldn't have read the book.  And at this moment things started to look up.  

Wenarto urged me to see the production of Viva La Diva, a pop opera show by former Opera great, Dorothy Bishop.  Wenarto had met her and the show's director, J. Jensen, via his now, world famous youtubes.  After several emails from Wenarto insisting, I agreed.  It was a great experience.  I met the cast (photo above) and then went a met a friend of a friend who worked as a bartender in the area.  

On the way to the bar, I was caught in a thunderstorm and had to find the first umbrella available. When I arrived at the bar, in the W hotel, I was drenched, holding a golf-size, umbrella, and at our introduction I did my best Charlie Chaplin impression to which she laughed.  We had about a ten minute conversation over the course of 3 hours, as she had to wait on customers, forming 10 second intervals.  In the meantime, I met a fascinating couple, in their 40's, who were originally from Italy and now lived in Michigan, but were here for their son's recital at Carnegie hall.  I was relieved to find two people who didn't share a brain and we discussed Italy, NY, cooking and music.   

The bartender, Anastasia, invited me to come watch the fireworks for the 4th from the top of her and her friend's art studio at the Brooklyn Naval Shipyard.  It was an amazing view and great company.  Her art can be found at Anastasiazielinski.com.   I had been to Brooklyn for a job interview and fell in love immediately.  Although the job turned out to be a 3 hour commute (costing close to $400 a month) from the isolated township of Bay Shore to Long Beach at a kids summer camp.  My only other interview was a 2 hour bus ride (with 3 transfers) which I also had to refuse due to travel.  I concluded I would not be working until I got out of Bay Shore and I HAD to get a place in Brooklyn.  

Class ended and on the last day, we all enjoyed an outing, paid for by our teacher.  I was very impressed with the commitment to public service by my CUNY classmates.  These students knew far more about the world, and actually cared, than most other law students I had met. This seems to me to be the key to the public service model, not curriculum at a law school.  

As the month ends, I am looking for a new apartment in Brooklyn and have one lead which hopefully gets taken care of tomorrow.  I am battling with the decision of whether to stay or go back to Seattle, and if so, when?  I came to New York to see if I could.  To meet new people.  To give things a chance.  To get away and spend some time in thought.  The candle still needs to be lit, the void still needs to be filled, but it's hard to say when and where that will take place.  

One final thought.  New York City is a cold place so New Yorkers, listen up.  I went to a bar and gave a solid attempt to be friendly, engage in conversations, and enjoy myself with a friend from class and his friends, all locals.  They laughed at my jokes, asked questions but I kept feeling like something wasn't going right.  Then I observed them interacting amongst themselves.  They seemed to be suffering from collective A.D.D.  No conversation went very long, nor revealed a thing about them or their point of view.  As I was talking to one girl, the bartender sneezed and reflexively I said "bless you."  Two minutes later, she delivered a beer to me, free of charge, and said, "thanks for looking out for me."  Maybe it's the naive Seattleite again but what?  Are people so rude, so cold here that a common courtesy gets a reward?  I am starting to think so.  It's a cold, cold city.   

1st Month in Review

Most men, the herd, have never tasted solitude.  They are never alone, they never commune with themselves.  But blessed be he who has found his solitude, not the solitude pictured in painting or poetry, but his own, unique, predestined solitude.  Blessed be he who knows how to suffer.  To him comes destiny, from him comes authentic action. 

Herman Hesse

When I first came to New York, in the moment when I looked around my apartment, and out the window at the Union sign, highlighted in white against the blue background, I realized I was alone.  I didn't know a single soul.  There was no one I could call for a coffee, a beer, or for a brief word.  

On the flight from Seattle, I was destined for Baltimore, Maryland, to stay with a friend for a few days and soak in the new adventure that lay before me.  On this flight, I sat next to a nurse from Washington D.C., who was politically active and we discussed politics for nearly 3 hours.  I landed fully energized and anxious for what lay before me.  Driving into the city I felt this same sense of energy.  My first taste of the city came in the form of a romantic dinner in a dimly lit Italian restaurant, exchanging in broken Italian, with a good friend.  We then went to a comedy show in the village which was New York.  

But following the comfort of a friend in a big city, I was left with the reality that I was an hour away, in a small town, without a friend.  At first, I wrestled with the excitement of being in a new place, wondering what was in store for me, and this feeling of isolation.  For those first few days I wandered around the township of Bay Shore, trying to get a feel for the place I would call home for a couple of months.  As I took inventory I noted the Blockbuster, the Stop-n-Shop, and the gas station with a man, Ahmed, that would greet me every time I walked by with a "hey Jason...see I have a good memory."  

Soon after, my class at the law school began downtown Manhattan in the Graduate School building across from the Empire State Building and just blocks from the New York Public Library.  My first friend came by way of an email from a girl who was interested in me because "I was the only other student without a CUNY email."  I agreed to meet up with her the following Sunday and she was to show me the sights.  I had asked to see Central Park and after a mere 15 minutes walking, she complained of the heat and asked that we sit down.  She began a rather boring monologue about herself, namely her status as a Georgetown Law student, her posh internship at a major firm, and her story of her family.  Shortly after, she asked that we get drinks.  To that point, I had seen all but 15 square feet of the park.  

After drinks at a couple of lackluster joints, she was fairly intoxicated and made a rather crude sexual advance followed by a worse question.  I rudely bid her goodnight and made my way back to the train for the hour ride back home to Bay Shore.  On the train I wondered what had happened.  Was I just a naive kid from a way too laid back Seattle?  Was this what I was to expect?  Later that week I made friends with a guy from class and asked if he wanted to watch the basketball finals at a bar.  He said yes and took me to the equivalent of Beltown in Seattle, where "greek row" meets the "meat market."  Watching this 22 year old and his friends gather phone numbers, I felt old.  I remembered those days, what seemed like ages ago and took a seat and watched the game.  A number of young ladies came up and after about 3 minutes each asked for my number to which I declined.  I was wondering how anyone could be this forward, or this desperate, asking but not knowing the slightest thing about me.  I went out with him the following week to similar bars and after another disappointing night, I decided this wasn't for me.  

I then dedicated myself to trying things out alone.  Although my friends back home encouraged me to meet people, I felt I would meet the right people at places I wanted to be.  I knew I had not come to NY to party.  Later that month I visited the New York Public Library and Bryant Park.  To be honest, I liked the feel of the library but was disappointed to find most of the rooms locked for private reservations, security guards constantly asking to see my bag, and the wonderfully boring sight of clouds on the top floor ceiling mural.  I looked out the window and saw a skyscraper being built next to a 5 story scaffolded relic.  Maybe I had come too late.  

Bryant Park was a different experience.  Behind the library was an urban oasis.  A beautiful park with outdoor seating, a merry-go-round, a theater and a cafe.  Sadly the cafe was mostly littered with yuppies coming for happy hour.  But in the corner, sat an array of characters, listening to a folk singer bang out tunes in the garden, an event that happens daily.  A little bit of the New York I had romanticized came out that day and encouraged me to press on.  

After month 1, I had made only two friends, lived in a broken down suburb, had not heard back from a single employment possibility, and was suffering from heartbreak of numerous causes.  But something kept me fighting on.  It may have been that every time I came out of Penn Station I felt a rush of energy.  It may have been that I had not seen all that I could see yet.  It may have been friends and family from home reminding me to be patient.  But mostly it was because that I had been wrong.  I had assumed that things would come easily.  I had assumed I could not be disappointed.  I assumed I would not be alone.  When I read Hesse's words, I realized it was ok to be wrong.  But now I must embrace the choice.  I had left Seattle behind.  I had come on an adventure.  And words of wisdom from my childhood came back to me.  "It's hard to grow alone.  But that's when you have to grow."  

So It Begins With a Visitor

  A good friend came to New York yesterday and asked if I would come with her and her 19 month old son to the NY Children's Museum.  Instantly, I went from "newbie" to "tour guide."  Beginning with the arduous process of finding her in Penn Station, the only place in New York where I feel mildly comfortable getting around, to getting around the city by foot and stroller (over 6 miles), to entertaining a toddler in a chaotically run "museum," and ending with a beer back in Penn Station, sitting in exhausted awe of the beer man who seemed to be making approximately $10 a minute handing tall boys out to white, white-collared, business men.  I wasn't the best tour guide but I was a lot cheaper.  

  After talking with her over the refreshingly cold beer, she suggested I start a blog about being a new "New Yorker".  Truth be told, it is a good idea.  At the very least, it is a good way to describe the oddities of New York, of which there are many, to friends, family, and the ubiquitous "other" that may come across the blog that have never been here.  So here's the intro: the most common question I have gotten since I got here is, "Why are you here?" Surprisingly, at least to me, there have only been a few, rare instances where that question is followed by, "how do you like it?"

  Let me start with why I am here.  A friend joked that I had taken Senator Obama too seriously when he said it was time for a change.  All jokes aside, there are a lot of reasons, mostly romantic and lofty but, first off, I was about to turn 27.  Not necessarily old by any standard, except by the 22 year olds I have been out to the bars with, but an age where you look at your life and decide where to go with it.  I am going into my 3rd year of law school and am not just unhappy with that choice, I am disappointed and needed a fresh start.  So I decided what I really want out of life is to be a Political Science professor and will have to attend graduate school, which will be on the east coast, so why not come and see if I can handle it first?  By popular opinion, it was more logical to finish my law degree first so I took advantage of the opportunities to study away.  

  I am also single and was pretty much fed up with that life in Seattle.  Don't get me wrong, Seattle had many endearing qualities (which I will no doubt recount when talking about NY) but I needed to get out before I felt like I was locked in.  So I am a visiting student at City University of New York Law School, the first solely Public Interest law school in the country, and in most respects the model that Seattle University follows.  Despite the logical reasons, the biggest motivator was to begin an adventure, to take a journey into what I can do and to push myself.  I hope that while that is a serious endeavor, this blog shows that I don't actually take myself that seriously.  When I think about it, I probably wouldn't be here if I did.  

  So really I am in NY to see what happens.  Answering the second question is more difficult because it takes time.  But I hope both the first question and the second come out in these blog entries as an answer.  I predict now that it will not be coherent.  But such is life.  

 The layout will be quite simple and will of course include a gimmick.  For the gimmick, I will lure you here with a picture of the day.  It will have been taken by me and will correspond with whatever seems relevant from that day's entry.  On Saturday and Sunday, I will re-cap anything that I may have missed in the daily entries and this weekend I will try and catch you up on the last two months- my first impressions here.    

 I begin with the assumption that only my mother and the voice whom inspired me will read this.  That said, I intend to entertain you and encourage feedback.  I was told not to do this unless I was ready and willing to open up.  I shall do my best.  If anything this can simply be documentation that a guy from Seattle went to NY.  Maybe one day I will look back and remember what it was like.